Twilight had just started, the sun’s gentle light preceding its rise painting the sky purplish pink, when Elian returned to camp from his daily Tribulation. He planned to practice Varmisal’s teachings from yesterday and so did his Tribulation early. It shouldn’t have bothered the pilgrims because he was far from the camp when he called for it, standing inside a ravine that he found just today. A really good spot. Not only did the sides of the narrow gorge lessen the force of the descending strike, but it also dampened the noise.

  It was his fourteenth Tribulation, but it felt stronger than the one he witnessed Thorren call for on Vigor Hill. Of course, he hadn’t experienced Thorren’s Tribulation. He just saw it. The Stage of Devotion removing much of its force probably made it look weaker.

  Elian expected most of the camp to still be asleep and was surprised to see people already up and about, gathering around a person who turned out to be Priest Thalman. Too early for a visit. But Thalman explained he had many things to do for the day, official functions and whatnot, so he went to Borlen first before he’d forget.

  “A good day to you, brother,” said Priest Thalman when he saw Elian join the group. “I see that you’re unscathed. Borlen here told me that the early morning rumble is your Tribulation.”

  They could still hear it? Elian sheepishly scratched the back of his head. “I thought I was already far enough. Sorry if I woke up anyone.”

  “Don’t fret, brother Elian. My hearing is just keener than most.”

  How keen exactly? And what did the priest hear? Elian started to explain, “I was inside a ravine. The echoes—”

  But Thalman continued on, “My arrival is what disturbed your camp. It is I who should apologize.”

  “There’s nothing to apologize for, gracious priest,” Borlen instantly replied. “You’ve brought us gifts!” He pointed to a couple of crates stuffed with armor pieces. A smaller chest beside them had its lid open, revealing enchanted protection trinkets inside.

  “To wear so you can protect yourselves,” said Thalman. “We’ve doubled the guards to prevent any unrest, but I’m also aware of the enmity between your group and Naamon’s group. There will be times when guards aren’t present. It is best that you can defend yourselves.”

  Elian peered into the crate. The green steel and the distinctive etching told him the pieces were made by blacksmiths of the Merl Kingdom. Thalman probably had a special connection to that place. Elian estimated each piece could have a couple thousand Armor points each. And that didn’t include their enhancements and enchantments, hinted at by the different colored pulses as if the metal was a beating heart.

  “You might even try for a Tribulation again, brother Borlen,” Elian said.

  “I’ve been meaning to suggest that before I left,” Priest Thalman said. “With Elian’s help, you might be able to overcome your twenty-fifth Tribulation with no issues.”

  “I dare not dream of such…” Borlen said, trembling hands picking up a helmet from a crate. “But it might be possible now. I’ve mostly recovered from my injuries fighting Naamon three years—Ah, no. I don’t want to dwell on that memory. All my focus will be on supporting Penitent Tharguras and furthering my journey. I will try again.”

  “I’ll help you,” said Elian. He wasn’t sure how—his low-level Aether constructs wouldn’t do much—but he’d find a way, even if it meant hugging Borlen.

  As the pilgrims fawned over Thalman’s gifts, Elian left the group. Time to practice inscribing seals on his constructs. He turned around to find a person standing behind him.

  “Priest Thalman?” Elian checked behind him. The first Thalman clone was still beside Borlen. He turned to face the second clone that seemed only he could see. “Is there anything I could help you with?” He was prepared with excuses if the priest did notice the double strike of his Tribulation. It wasn’t like he committed any crimes against the Hundred-Armed Magistrate. Thalman was there, right after Elian met with the deity, and would know that.

  Fortunately, Thalman wasn’t interested in his Tribulation. “Brother Elian,” said the priest. “Relief fills my heart that you volunteered to aid Brother Borlen in his Tribulation. Brother Yonnik shared that the costrahastans only scratched you with their spears. I pray of you to protect Brother Borlen.”

  “I will do my utmost,” Elian said. “Although… I only have my sturdy body. My Aether Magic is severely lacking to make more durable constructs.” He didn’t explain more. Helping him was helping Borlen, was his message.

  Priest Thalman adjusted his glasses as he looked over Elian. “I’d love to share my knowledge of Aether Magic with you and many others. Alas, my time won’t allow it even though I can be in many places at once. One would think I’d be freer with my abilities, but no, even my real body can’t move.”

  Are you at the Forbidden Temple doing human experiments? Elian thought. It was always the quiet and unassuming ones who held the darkest secrets. Though it was unfair to think this. All he had heard were rumors, and he had no plans of visiting the Forbidden Temple to confirm them.

  “Here’s an idea,” said Thalman. “I’ll tell Marielle to allow you access to certain lower tiers of the library. I’ll also leave a list of helpful books that could be found there.”

  And with that, Elian decided to skip school for the day.

  He was the first inside the temple library as soon as the Three Gates of Acuity clicked unlock. Marielle still hadn’t fixed her hair into an elaborate stack, its wavy locks cascading like a waterfall over her shoulders. She shot him an annoyed look, wordlessly handing him a paper with a list of books and an amulet that permitted any floating disc he’d use to go down the lower tiers.

  “Thank you,” Elian said. “Your hair looks good this way too.”

  She rolled her eyes at him and shooed him away. “None of that. Just ask me about books.”

  Several minutes of searching later, Elian had gathered a pile of ancient books on the table. He was inside one of the smaller caves carved into the side of the deep hole that was the library—books from there weren’t allowed to be brought above. He copied everything he thought useful, having brought several notebooks with him.

  You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

  The books on this level almost crumbled with age, written on some sort of thinned animal skin. This was expected because controlling Aether was the first magic learned by humans. Without restorative magic, these books would’ve been long gone.

  “This looks complicated” Elian traced the illustration with a finger, trying to decipher the functions of the individual components of the layered seal.

  In his haste and businesses, Priest Thalman must’ve forgotten that he listed books unquestionably not for beginners. Without Elian’s knowledge from past life, this would be all gibberish to him. But since he had plenty of experience with magic, though it was mostly with Energy-based spells, he could understand the books with not too much difficulty. And they were immensely helpful, giving his mind paths that someone steeped in Energy Magic could never even consider.

  Thinking of trying out the protection seal detailed in the book, Elian concentrated on gathering Aether. The tiny ball of solidified Aether disintegrated like a melting snowball. He tried again but the same thing happened.

  “A comprehensive suppression ward?” Elian looked around to find it but couldn’t. Likely, it was embedded into the rock.

  The ward stopped all manner of skills from being used, be they powered by Vigor or Energy or whatever. A necessity given the fragile and possibly priceless books stored here.

  Elian shrugged and went on copying from the books. If he had Thalman’s powers, he could write on several notebooks simultaneously. He could even practice different techniques with each clone. That’d probably work because Thalman’s clones seemed to operate independently of each other while sharing memories. It was all connected to his original body.

  “Look on the bright side…” Elian hummed as he copied the helpful parts of The Sworn Scrolls of Domara.

  Plenty of mishaps had happened to him. Mishaps were a light way of putting how much nonsense forced him to deviate from his original plans for his second life. Aiming for goals never did seem to work. Thinking more, he noticed that he performed better reacting to the unexpected and making the best of it. Just accept what life throws and always look on the bright side—he believed in this but couldn’t always apply it to himself.

  But his current situation had many bright sides.

  He couldn’t have accessed this wealth of knowledge if he wasn’t cursed by the Elder Giant and instead went to the War Monastery. He didn’t even know there was such an extensive library here. Many libraries were destroyed in the original timeline, dozens of great scholars and teachers dead. He couldn’t even properly research for a way… home.

  Elian stopped writing. “I can try asking Marielle.”

  “You want material on traveling across worlds?” Marielle had a confused face. Her hair was up to challenge gravity. “What do you mean?”

  It took Elian an hour from thinking of finding a way home to force himself to ask her. Difficult to admit to himself but only a third of his heart wanted to return to Earth. Another third was set on remaining on Fellenyr, and the last third was of the mind to wait until after defeating the Giants to decide. After all, the Timekeeper had promised to return him to Earth if he won. Why try to find a different way before then?

  It was more to prevent himself from settling on Fellenyr that he forced himself to search for another way to return to Earth. He had an obligation to his family and friends to do so.

  And… he didn’t belong here. Shouldn’t even be here in the first place.

  “Us humans came from another world,” Elian said. “I was thinking of maybe going to those other worlds.”

  “No one has succeeded in doing so,” Marielle said. “That we know of, anyway. Maybe someone did succeed but hasn’t returned to tell us. Many have attempted and, as far as we can tell, all have failed. This library doesn’t have books going beyond the general knowledge of such topics. You ask the oddest questions as if forgetting you are on the Temples of Tribulation. Why are you interested in finding our home world?”

  “Aren’t you curious where we came from? What’s it like there?”

  “Never crossed my mind. I’m quite happy and contented in this world. I barely know anything of Fellenyr to bother thinking about other worlds.”

  Elian slowly nodded, eyes staring blankly at Marielle’s hair. “Ah… that’s true.”

  “If you find this fabled gate to our home world, are you seriously going to jump through? There’s no assurance you can return to Fellenyr. You’ll be leaving everything behind here.”

  That’s true, he answered in his mind. But if he stayed here, he’d be leaving everything behind over there too. Why was he puzzling over this now when he had other things he could research? Shaking his head, he said, “It’s only for curiosities’ sake. I’m just looking for a break from researching Aether Magic. Anyway, are there more books about the catfolk in the new area I’m allowed to enter? Just curious.”

  Unfortunately, Elian didn’t find anything that could help him break the catfolk seals on the ring from the Dark Forest. A couple of books gave detailed descriptions of the ritual sacrifices of the catfolk, but nothing beyond that. No clues as to the mysterious black obelisk with hand carvings either.

  For hours and hours, Elian copied charts, seals, and other kinds of illustrations. And as he did, he internalized their structures, falling into a mild trance while meditating on them in his mind.

  A master Auric Blademaster once told him half of his practice was in the mind. Back on Earth, Elian read that playing a musical instrument mentally helped hone actual skills. It wasn’t just philosophizing nonsense. For Aether Magic, it did work.

  With an hour and a half till library closing time to go, and very much bored of writing, Elian turned to research more Divine Bestowals he should aim for. The restricted area had detailed information about a possible Boon to meld with that from Protector Konshari. It was a book from thirty-three years ago, he wasn’t too sure of its accuracy—it was normal for deities to change their mind and residences—but it was worth a shot. He also looked up Blood Arts, brainstorming possible synergies with the enchanted catfolk ring.

  Even if he stayed at the library every day until the Giants arrived, his excavation of knowledge wouldn’t put a dent in the mountain of books here. Tempting to skip classes, but it was beneficial to have an actual teacher on the subject. Also, Elian would skip classes on the day of Faridar’s Tribulation, so he kept his absences to a minimum.

  Two days later, Elian was prepared to go to the wide clearing where Champion Penitents did their Tribulations when Borlen threw a spiked mace at his plans.

  “What? You’re going to do your Tribulation today?” Elian asked, his voice rising toward the end. “It’s so sudden!”

  “It is not an impulsive thought, brother Elian,” Borlen replied. “I have decided on this when Priest Thalman came with his gifts. And I also set it on this date, hours before Penitent Faridar’s Tribulation, to show that I too, personally, am working on my goals.”

  “You should’ve told me back then. I would’ve helped you prepare.”

  “We have been preparing.” Borlen gestured to the rest of his group. “We haven’t told you because you were busy with your studies and own Tribulations.”

  “Uh, yeah, I guess I was busy.” Elian returned to camp past sunset for several days now. “But I’m always willing to help. I’ll help now. When are we heading to the Stage of Devotion?”

  “I’m not going there. I will do it by the open area next to the ruins outside the northern gate.”

  “But why? The Stage of Devotion makes it safer.”

  “Because Naamon had never stood on the Stage of Devotion to meet his Tribulations,” Borlen firmly said. “And never will I.”

  Elian raised a brow. “Wait, what has Naamon got to do with this?”

  “I’ve invited him to witness my show of faith.”