Traverse The Fog

"That was fast."

Outside the scene of the arrest, Cyrus watched the thief immediately give up without a struggle. There and then, an immense sense of dissonance washed over him. It's been two weeks since he woke up in a forest surrounded by an everlasting fog and static silence. Soon after, he found that hamlet, and with it, The Weeper.

Slowly, gently, his fingers clutched against his camera. Cyrus died that day. A meaningless death in a cold, brutal world. Yet here he was on that very same earth, watching a group of guards neatly cuff a magical thief like it was just another day. Such was the life in Avalorn—the baker plied her trade, children played on the streets, two sisters argued as their husbands watched in dismay, and food and security were abundant. Even the now-unmasked thief appeared unafraid of repercussions.

…Like they live in a separate plane of existence. Cyrus' shoulders hunched, gaze widening. Never once looking beyond Avalorn.

It was subtle. But Cyrus had nearly forgotten the time he spent outside these walls. There were no monsters and no fog. The time he spent in a cell was even pleasant. However, Cyrus wondered: Would he have buried his head in the sand just like the people around him if he had woken up here?

Ridiculous... right?

Slowly, subconsciously, his fingers swept over his abdominal muscles, then slightly recoiled at the stinging phantom pain. A forest, a chase, the weeping, and those black pits for eyes emitted rays of death as it ever drew closer—memories that dwelled in the back of his head.

Cyrus took a deep breath. The experience left a kernel of trauma inside his mind, so much so that he has experienced nightmares since.

This world wasn't safe. No matter how these people pretended otherwise.

She must know the truth as well. Cyrus secretly glanced at Lady Dílis, who was toying with the large cyan crystal. Wayfarers lived in two separate worlds: One in here and one out there. With that thought, Cyrus helplessly chuckled and could not help but feel a tiny bit closer to her, even if it was not intentional.

I must be insane to want to go back out there. With a shake of his head, Cyrus then hardened his expression. But the idea of staying here all my life. It's unbearable.

There had to be more than just... this. Right? The thought brought him into a steady silence throughout the proceedings. And as always, he melded into the backdrop and simply watched. It was peaceful.

After ten minutes, Dílis finished her exchange with the patrol leader. But once she turned to meet Cyrus' paling visage, she paused, concern etched in her person. "What's wrong? Are you ok?"

Quickly recovering from his stupor, Cyrus masked his emotions with a practiced smile. "It's nothing." He pointed at the crystal in hopes of changing the subject. "Tell me. Why risk everything to steal that?"

She maintained a lingering gaze on him, trying to discern his thoughts, but eventually gave up.

"This is a mana crystal, more specifically, a runic mana crystal," she explained, handing it over for him to examine. "These crystals form when an area becomes saturated with enough mana and are a swifter energy source than merely absorbing it through the air."

The crystal felt light in Cyrus' hands, and there was a slight tingle where the skin met. "Fascinating." He cradled it in his hands and jostled it. "I think I feel its energies."

"That's a common feeling." Dílis chuckled at the sight of his infatuation. "Mages use mana to create runes, but runic crystals contain tiny traces of law. Those who share the same domain can gain insights by absorbing them."

"I see..." Cyrus muttered, flittering his attention from the crystal to the captured thief. "I guess he stole it because it carried insights of wind?" Watching her nod in agreement, Cyrus clutched at the crystal in his hands. "Could you share the basics?"

"Sure," She said before pointing at the patrol leader. "Let me inform the guard that we're returning it to its proper owner."

Soon, they left. And once they turned around the corner, Dílis began her explanation. "A living being requires months of conditioning called 'introspection,' to awaken an ability called 'mana sense,' which helps you absorb mana from a source—"

"Months?!" Cyrus yelled, cutting her off. "Just to sense mana?!"

How slow! Such a crawling start would push him to lose his sanity. However, the sight of Dílis' dourness at being interrupted shut him up.

"—Yes." Slowly, Dílis rolled her eyes and continued the lead. "It's why people flock to the departments and academy. To awaken their mana sense and domains." She went further into detail, describing that mana sense is required to do just about everything. Through it, one could absorb mana and discover which laws they are attuned to. "Only after absorbing enough insights of their attuned crystals, would they be able to activate the process of 'Coalescence.'"

"What's that?"

Dílis smiled and revealed another green rune on her palm. "It's, uh, hard to describe." A pause. "Imagine suddenly pulling water from your body, a lot of it, and the 'knowledge' on breathing to make something new. Equate that with mana and insights to create a rune, and you'll be an official, aspiring mage."

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An official mage. Cyrus liked the sound of that. But how long would it take? Months? Years? The thought made him shiver in despair. But he squashed it by mulling over the information.

Even if I tried to hide my attempts. He subtly glanced at Dílis. Her father would always keep an eye on me because of what I am—what I represent.

Then, there was no other path to take.

Forward they went. After retracing their steps and rounding a few corners, they arrived at their destination. There it was: The Arcanum Emporium. In front of the store was an old, scrawny man in formal wear sweeping up broken glass. Wrinkled and white-haired, he appeared to mutter under his breath before sighing in defeat. Then, with a huff, he placed his broom on the wall and hurried back inside.

"Come on, let's give Mr. Carlan the good news." With a smile as bright as the glowing crystal in her hand, Dílis picked up her step.

But Cyrus wasn't as enthusiastic. His attention fell upon the flimsy store sign, which depicted elements from a water drop to a fiery ember.

Dílis followed his gaze. "Those depict the most common domains— fire, earth, life, wind, water."

"What about the gray rune, black cloud, and white ball?"

Dílis pointed as she spoke. "Those are order, darkness, and light."

So many laws, Cyrus thought. Do I have any? How long would it take to obtain a single rune? His attention returned to Dílis, who, in turn, was about to open the store's entryway. "Wait." —Cyrus reached out to her but quickly flinched at the idea— "How long did it take you to become a mage? I mean—" Cyrus rubbed the back of his head for asking such a question so plainly. "—are you powerful?"

She tilted her head, lost in thought, a dazed, far-off look softening her face and a faint smile tugging at her lips. "I've been training since I was a small child."

Cyrus' heart lurched in dismay. Years? Should I just say, 'to hell with this?'

A foolish thought. One where he quashed immediately. There was no escape. But was he really to cage himself in these walls for years? Decades?

"—and I'm not slow!" Cyrus blinked and turned to Dílis, who flushed and tugged at her cuffs.. "I'm actually about to reach specialization soon, which is leagues stronger than adept and apprentice."

Cyrus blinked again, dumbstruck. Specialist? Adept? Apprentice?

"Wait—you call yourself a novice, but you're allowed outside?"

Dílis sighed, holding onto the storefront's handle. "Yes, and we could even travel far distances if it weren't for our team leader." —She paused before flushing again— "I-it's not that she's awful or anything. Just that she cares a lot about us."

"I see," Cyrus began, appearing to listen. "Sounds like a great leader."

Dílis bloomed into a smile. "Anari is. She's taken care of me for as long as I can remember." Then, with a silent gesture to follow, she stepped inside with Cyrus in pursuit.

As much of a lavish name as The Arcanum Emporium, the interior did not match up in grandeur. Its interior was simple, more like a family-run shop with magical crystals of various colors displayed on wooden shelves and no protective measures. There were no guards or mystical protections. In fact, the only source of protection seemed to have come from the rickety old man and his solid... wooden broom. The sight made Cyrus wonder why that thief robbed in broad daylight.

"Thank you, Lady Dílis," Mr. Carlen shook Dílis' hand with such withered vigor. "There was nothing I could do—I-I might have had to close down the shop for the month."

On the other hand, the smile on Dílis' face slowly shrank until nothing remained. "It's no trouble, Mr. Carlan. The thief has been caught, and there will be no more issues..." —She breathed deeply, her eyes scanning around the store— "But haven't you spoken to The Guard? Surely, they would have offered protection for a small fee."

A sudden weakness gripped the old man, and he looked away from the broken window before sheepishly returning her gaze.

"It was on my to-do list. But you know how it is." A pause. "I've got the shop to run, a family to take care of, and I haven't had any trouble ever since your father became lord."

Seeing his excuses not working on the young Wayfarer, Mr. Carlan hurried to one of the display cases and pulled out a rather dimly lit green crystal before handing it to her.

"Take it," he said, forcing it into her palms. "A thank you for your hard work—"

Meanwhile, Cyrus boredly watched the two argue. Soon, his gaze drifted around the storefront. There were plenty of luminous crystals of different colors in various shades, but they all looked pitiful, fractured, and faded. Rather, it appeared to him that the cyan crystal was the pièce de résistance.

Wait. What's this? His attention soon singled out the pale yellow crystal on a display table. It was exactly like the others. Yet, something called to him within its dim, pale yellow hue. Cyrus then glanced at the arguing duo, noting their distraction before drawing his face closer to the faded crystal.

There. Slowly, He arched his brows at the sight. Cyrus could barely witness tiny, almost indistinguishable motes aimlessly drifting within, frowning at the sight. Are these runes? Insights? How can anyone learn from this?

Gradually, Cyrus focused on the crystal, no longer hearing the sounds of the argument. They were... rather beautiful. The more he stared into those aimless specks, the more he lulled into a trance. With it came a subtle change to his mind space. A tiny, pale white light flickered into existence, ready to be snuffed out at a moment's notice. Dazed and confused, Cyrus attempted to move closer to the light, but no matter how hard he tried, he could not move forward.

But Cyrus did not give up. To boldly go into the light and bathe in its radiance. At least, he tried to. At that moment, two weights pressed onto his shoulders, keeping him grounded forever. And the frustration welling deep within him bubbled and broiled. It was so close, just out of reach.

"Cyrus?" A soft tap from Dílis brought him back to reality. With that, the light disappeared.

"Oh." Cyrus swallowed a glob of thick saliva, holding back his disapointment. "What's up?"

"You want to head back to the manor?"

Slowly, He blinked and looked around before moving his gaze onto her face, scrutinizing it. Had she noticed what had happened? Evidently not, for she expressed nonchalance.

"Sure, it's getting late anyway," Cyrus said with a smile, masking his thoughts.

As the two stepped outside, he was lost in thought. Despite being unable to do anything, it was a step toward something new and grand, something he had never seen before. And he yearned for more.