"Arcanist, Guardian, Striker, fucking Tactician—none of it matters if you want to truly master runes." Jason paced around the classroom with predatory grace, his massive frame commanding attention from every student crammed into the circular stone chamber. "Magic doesn't give a shit about your preferences, your specialties... or even your limits."

  He shot a pointed look directly at me, and I suddenly realized he'd been hovering around my desk for most of his lecture.

  "Now, I know I'm not some Oathbound Enforcer or Rune Lord sitting atop the Worldspire," he continued, claws clicking against the stone floor with each step, "but you can be damn sure some of those bastards carry items I forged with these very paws."

  I'd seen a map of Ark on the viewing tables last month, and no one had mentioned anything about a Worldspire. I'd heard World Trees mentioned by the Florans—were they related? The question burned in my mind, but Jason was already moving on.

  "The secret to becoming a great Runebinder?" His whiskers twitched with amusement. "Forget everything you think you know about runes."

  I barely knew anything after the last month, anyway. Runes gave off concepts of things that, when properly channeled, could perform magical effects. Throw two together and you’ve got something more powerful. Three magical concepts were where the real power started, but that rabbit hole went deeper than I'd ever imagined. Malcolm casually tossed arcs of plasma around like party tricks, Cass could probably outrun a sports car without breaking a sweat, and I... well, I hadn't really sorted all of it out yet. Which I guess was the key to advancing to Adept—assuming I'd even recognize it when I got there.

  "Runes are just a means to an end," Jason continued, and this time he did something that made my eyebrows raise. He poked at the air itself, and a fire rune materialized on the tip of his claw, spinning lazily as he spoke. The thing looked real in a way that made the hairs on my arms stand up. This was the first time I'd seen a rune appear in the air like that except for the bracers.

  A Floran near the back raised her delicate hand, her bronze skin glittering. "How are you manifesting those runes without a bracer? A grimoire can't possibly do that."

  Jason's grin showed every one of his razor-sharp teeth. "Aha! Now that's a proper fucking question." The rune pulsed brighter, casting dancing shadows on the walls. "Because the tower exists within a spirit realm, and magic is inherently spiritual. But that's exactly my point—don't think of the rune as the magic. Think of the magic as the rune."

  He held the spinning symbol higher, and I could feel its presence like heat from a campfire. "What you see on the tip of my finger isn't just a symbol. In fact, I'd happily wager that every single one of you sees and senses something completely different. The rune is simply your soul's method of interpreting raw magical force." His golden eyes swept the room. "Tell me what you see."

  Jason pointed the rune at a Gaian man, who stared at it for a long moment, his face bathed in flickering orange light. "It reminds me of... a bonfire on a scorching day. Too much heat, everything ready to ignite."

  "Good start," Jason nodded approvingly, then shifted to another student. "And you?"

  "A raging inferno," the second student said, almost hesitantly, "desperate to consume more fuel."

  "Shit, that's badass," Jason said with a genuine laugh. "But you're getting closer to the truth. How about our Breaker here?" His predatory gaze locked onto me. "Show me some of that wisdom I've heard so much about."

  He swiveled his massive paw toward me, and suddenly the rune filled my entire field of vision. The classroom, the other students, even Jason himself—everything faded away as I stared into that spinning symbol. I could feel Dawn stirring in my soul, singing recognition of what this rune truly represented, whispering of impossible concepts hidden within its deceptively simple form. It felt like what I had done to Malcolm's illumination spell, but cranked up past safe levels.

  The vision hit me like a physical blow, leaving me breathless and slightly dizzy.

  "Star fire?" I said, though it came out more like a question. My voice sounded strange in my own ears.

  Jason pointed the rune at himself and laughed, the sound echoing off the stone walls. "You got all that from this little thing? That might be reaching a bit too far, Breaker. But it's very close. This is Sunlight."

  I shrugged, still feeling the aftershocks of that cosmic vision. "Same thing, isn't it?"

  A ripple of murmurs spread through the classroom, students turning to stare at me with expressions ranging from confusion to awe. Jason, however, nodded with obvious satisfaction.

  "Now then," he continued, "perhaps you can tell me what Runic Roots this Sunlight draws from. Light is in the name, so that doesn't count. What else feeds this flame?"

  "Life!" The first Gaian shot his hand up eagerly. "Sunlight makes plants grow, keeps people warm and healthy."

  "Excellent! Two concepts that work beautifully together." Jason's tail swished behind him. "But what about something you might not immediately think of?"

  "Death," said the student who'd seen the raging inferno, his voice carrying new confidence. "Fire can be indiscriminate in its destruction."

  "Now we're talking!" Jason's grin turned feral. "You definitely have a fire affinity, don't you?" He didn't wait for an answer. "Can anyone tell me exactly how Sunlight brings death?"

  "Spend a few days in a desert without shade?" I offered with a chuckle, trying to lighten the suddenly intense atmosphere.

  The silence that followed felt heavier than before.

  "More or less," Jason confirmed, then snapped the grimoire on his desk shut with a decisive thud. The rune winked out of existence, leaving spots dancing in my vision. "Now, instead of just looking at it, I want you to recall everything we just discussed. Take a stylus from one of those cups and draw what you think the rune looked like—to the best of your recollection. You'll find paper in the desk drawers."

  I was completely ass at drawing the rune I'd seen. It was a cruel disconnect between what I could picture perfectly in my mind and what my actual hand would produce on paper. At first, I blamed the strange fountain pen-style stylus I'd grabbed—I didn't have much experience with fountain pens, and this one was bleeding red pigment everywhere as I made increasingly desperate attempts.

  A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

  Swapping to a different pen and fresh paper only made things worse. Each new attempt looked more like a toddler's scribble than the elegant, powerful symbol that had filled my vision just minutes before.

  Frustration built in my chest as I sighed and leaned back into the plush chair. The memory of the rune itself seemed to fade, like my mind had sprung a leak and all the important details were draining away.

  My exhaustion wasn't helping. Every time I blinked, it took effort to open my eyes again. The comfortable chair was actively working against me, its cushioned embrace suggesting that drawing runes was optional and sleeping was mandatory.

  "Good to know the Breaker has a weakness," one of the Gaian students murmured behind me, clearly thinking I couldn't hear him. Another student promptly smacked his arm.

  I ran a hand down my face and glanced around the room. Jason prowled between the desks like the predator he was, examining everyone's renditions with varying levels of scrutiny and commentary. Most students seemed to have better luck than I, their papers showing elaborate symbols that actually resembled something artistic.

  The concepts Jason had taught made perfect sense. Runes were my soul's way of rendering magical concepts into something tangible. So if I was an Eidolon—pure soul made manifest—why the fuck couldn't I draw what had been right in front of me?

  "Well, that's disappointing," Jason said as he appeared beside my desk, gathering up my collection of failed attempts. His golden eyes held a mixture of amusement and genuine regret.

  I stared at the stone ceiling, defeat settling over me as he spoke. "I had hoped Runesmithing might be a path for you, especially based on how you modify lantern orbs."

  "I modified Malcolm's Illumination spell yesterday too," I said, still not looking at him. "Made it a lot closer to that rune you pulled from the book, I think. I just... can't seem to draw the damned thing."

  He gathered up my papers and tapped them flush on the desk with methodical precision. "Interesting."

  Jason's voice suddenly boomed across the room, making me jump slightly. "So, most of you in here are Seekers. Those of you who aren't should find this next part illuminating."

  A handful of students leaned forward eagerly, clearly hungry for knowledge. When I let Valor focus on them, I could feel my aura clinging to them longer—Initiates, I realized.

  Jason strode to a stone pillar near the front wall and began untying a thick rope that had been wrapped around an iron pinion. "Pay attention, because this is the foundation of everything."

  WOOSH. THUNK.

  The sound exploded through the room as a massive fabric tapestry unfurled from the ceiling, weighted ends pulling it taut with dramatic finality. The thing was absolutely enormous—easily the size of a large building's wall.

  My jaw dropped.

  The tapestry depicted a colossal circle divided into intricate sections, with hundreds of symbols, glyphs, and runic scripts scattered throughout. Some I recognized from my limited experience; others looked completely alien, their meanings dancing just beyond my comprehension.

  At the top, a simple word gleamed in silver thread: Light. Behind it stretched a pizza-slice section showing alabaster towers rising through white clouds, everything pristine and radiant. Directly opposite, another slice plunged into darkness—a deep cave with waterfalls of purple energy cascading through shadow, labeled Darkness.

  The left side bloomed with life: lush forests, vibrant flowers in reds and purples, berries clustered on branches, and abstract creatures that seemed to dance even in their woven forms. Life proclaimed the golden lettering.

  To the right, brown and gray dominated—scenes of rot and decay, fallen trees and crumbling stone, all under the stark label Death.

  At the center sat a golden diamond in its own perfect circle, clearly marked as Spirit. But what really caught my attention was Time and Space, surrounding the inner circle in overlapping arcs like some cosmic Venn diagram, their symbols seeming to have been woven with extra care.

  "The Runeforged Realms," Jason announced, his voice dropping to something almost reverent. The entire room fell into stunned silence as we all struggled to take in the sheer amount of detail woven into this masterwork. "The very roots of reality itself, mapped by the Arcadians in the last age."

  The tapestry seemed alive, and I leaned forward despite my earlier frustration, completely captivated by the intricate beauty. My exhaustion retreated slightly, pushed back by genuine fascination.

  "The primordial pillars of magic and everything around us," Jason continued, gesturing toward the magnificent display, "laid out plain as day for anyone with eyes to see. It's all spelled out for you to understand—just learn something about a few of these concepts, as long as they're not antipodal, apply some mana, and you'll have a Seal candidate. Something powerful enough to bend your soul to your body's will and set you on a Path." His golden eyes gleamed. "Especially simple for Arcanists."

  "What about the Spirit in the center?" I asked, raising my hand while still staring at the golden diamond. "I'm told it makes magic a lot more unpredictable."

  Jason chuckled, a sound like distant thunder. I couldn't tear my gaze away from the tapestry—the detail was almost hypnotic, reminding me of staring into Valor itself. The more I looked, the more patterns emerged, symbols within symbols, meanings layered like sedimentary rock.

  "You'd probably know better than most," he said with obvious amusement. "Spirit can act like a helper, combining two runes that are diametrically opposed. But because of the unpredictable nature of one's soul, it can make things exponentially more difficult—usually at the benefit of a much greater payoff." He gestured toward the Guardian section of the room. "There's a reason most Guardians have spiritual runes in their Seals. Giving your soul the ability to manipulate reality, even in small amounts? Makes getting their asses kicked on the regular almost worth it."

  He paused for dramatic effect, and I couldn't help thinking about how Light seemed to act as the mediator in my Seal, somehow shoving a Spirit rune and Life rune together into something coherent. Though Light and Life were right next to each other on the tapestry—hardly opposing forces.

  "Seals aside," Jason continued, beginning to pace again, "you might be locked into your Path as a Seeker, but all of that magic is still out there waiting. You're just going to forget about it?" He motioned toward the student who'd seen the raging inferno. "It's why Arcanists use their bracers—sometimes fire might not solve a problem, much to your disappointment. You can study other runes enough to remember flashes of how they work, catch glimpses of their potential."

  The classroom had grown completely still, every student hanging on his words.

  "But how many of you could draw that rune we saw earlier again, right now?" Jason asked.

  An awkward silence settled over us as the students finally looked away from the mesmerizing tapestry and considered the question. I certainly couldn't, and judging by the uncomfortable shifting around me, neither could most of the others.

  "And what if," Jason said, his voice dropping to something almost conspiratorial, "instead of relying on paper and memory, you could carve that rune into something permanent? So it was there, doing what it does, beyond your understanding or study. That's Runesmithing—it's remembering that magic still exists even when you're on another Path."

  Jason began pulling the rope he'd untied, and the massive tapestry started rolling itself up on the enormous log above, disappearing with the same dramatic flair it had arrived with.

  "That was incredible," a student across the room breathed. I was definitely inclined to agree, but something about Jason's explanation was clicking into place as I considered my own abilities.

  "What are the limits?" I asked, finally raising my hand again. "I know it's magic, but... what's stopping someone from making a weapon that can cut through reality itself? Or a Runebinder becoming so powerful they can snap their fingers and obliterate half the multiverse?"

  Several students started murmuring—clearly thinking I was asking stupid questions based on the eye-rolling.

  "Mana, Breaker," Jason said, his voice taking on that serious edge again. "Regardless of what Path you're on, a Runebinder's sole purpose is the pursuit of more mana. Your journey to Adept is about finding your physical limits. Past that? It's about discovering new ways to store and use mana, finding innovative applications for it." His golden eyes locked onto mine with uncomfortable intensity. "There are no limits when you're dealing with the unified field of reality itself."

  Eight gentle chimes sounded through the air as I stared back at the massive Tianar, his expression deadly serious, like he was trying to drive home a point that I needed to know.

  Then, like flipping a switch, his entire demeanor changed.

  "Graceful Gods, I thought this would never end!" he shouted, all traces of that grave intensity completely melting away. "Get the fuck out of my office—I've got shit to do!"

  Students scrambled to gather their things, the sudden dismissal catching everyone off guard. I stood up, my exhausted body protesting every movement, and Red stretched beside me with a jaw-cracking yawn I felt in my soul.

  , Red sent through our bond as we headed for the exit.

  “Yeah,” I agreed, glancing back at where the tapestry had hung. “Really good.”

  My exhaustion was catching up to me again, the brief surge of interest fading as we climbed the stairs back toward the main hall. But damned if I wasn't already thinking about the sunlight rune, or more accurately, Star Fire

  And with Dawn’s help, if I could figure out how to make it do something awesome.