Traverse The Fog

The book before Cyrus remained open. And despite rereading the passage several times, it did nothing to alleviate his misgivings. Were light mages so rare that even books carried so little information? Or was there something else to all this?

Sighing, Cyrus looked inward toward his light runes.

Should I ignore it for now? Cyrus inclined his head back to stare at the ceiling, lost. Maybe not. Better to have something and not need it than need it and not have it.

Still, he hadn't taken this domain seriously. To him, it wouldn't make a difference if he had equaled the distribution of allocations and each of his domains held the same amount of runes. The light domain was the weakest in both power and utility.

Cyrus then furrowed his brows. Should I tell Lord Dílis of my eighth rune?

Was it that big of a deal? Maybe not. Then again, given his obviously strange circumstances and the piling of mysterious happenings behind him, it would be a good idea to appear less enigmatic. After all, if it were Cyrus on the other side, he would assume that something was afoot and nip the problem in the bud.

Shaking off the slight guilt, Cyrus returned his attention to his light runes. "Light. Light. What can I do with my light runes at this level?"

Purification? If so, how? Achieving the speed of light? Laser beams?

"Let's try something simple..." He channeled his mana onto his light runes, which emitted a soft hue in his hand. Yet, despite his efforts to channel more mana into them, the runes' properties remained unchanged except for the glow's intensity. An hour passed. And with nothing to show for other than a drain of his mana crystals, a frustrated Cyrus abruptly stopped. And here he was: Cyrus, the walking lightbulb.

I'm not even an apprentice, Cyrus thought, reassuring himself. Don't lose your mind yet.

However, a small part of his mind wished and prayed that he'd suddenly transformed into 'Cyrus, the master of magic.'

"I should get back to practicing." Cyrus glanced out the window, taking in the stale light before shaking his head. "Too bright."

Quickly, He then stood up. Channeling his mana, Cyrus strode into the bathroom and stood alone in the darkness. More testing came. And despite his efforts to remain calm from the lack of progress, Cyrus' frustration began welling up again.

"Ugh, I can't see." Cyrus abruptly cut off his mana. "And even if I were to fight with this ridiculous light on my hands, still blind me––wait."

An idea sparked in his mind. With a thought, he allocated his few light runes to his eyes, one in each.

"Here goes nothing," Cyrus muttered, channeling his mana.

One second. Two. As the mana poured into his light runes, what unfolded shouldn't have surprised anyone: two broad but soft rays beamed from Cyrus' gaze, filling the dark room with a gentle white glow.

Cyrus hummed, rubbing his chin. "Rather helpful." He began surveying the bathroom, illuminating the area wherever he looked. "My hands are free for whatever I want."

It's not exactly earth-shattering, but baby steps. He then directed more mana to his eye to the utmost limits. What came next was a shining glare that would no doubt blind anyone within its path. Cyrus looked around, eliminating every shadow in sight.

"I could use this." A moment's blindness could mean the difference between life and death. And even better, his own sight remained unaffected. "But What if I lowered the dosage?"

Cyrus then channeled his mana to a negligible point, forcing the once-blinding rays to dim into nothingness. And despite being left in a world of darkness again, Cyrus' vision revealed something else. Before him was the room, which was unveiled in a yellowish tint yet utterly revealed to him.

"I can see?" Cyrus tentatively touched the sink's countertop, expecting to miss it entirely. "I can see!" He then moved about in the large bathroom, effortlessly navigating without so much as a stumble. "Should I call this night vision?" Cyrus turned on the sink faucet. "Or is it light vision?"

Yet he paused as he caught his own reflection.

There he was—the same disheveled-looking man who hid his face under a bramble of hair. However, that judgmental and self-disparaging steel-blue gaze that forever followed every reflection was now replaced by shining golden eyes.

"Oh?" Cyrus moved closer to the mirror, occasionally angling his face. "Not bad."

And another plus to the list. No longer was Cyrus just a walking lighthouse, but he now considered himself handsome because of the change.

"Light vision it is," He muttered, scrutinizing himself once last time.

A step forward in the right direction. The next few minutes were spent manipulating his mana channeling until ad nausea. But the time spent brought new questions. If he were to apply runes in different locations, would there be more abilities unlocked? The remembrance of that strigoi spewing miasma flittered across his mind. So many questions, so little time.

"Maybe I should ask Lord Dílis if he has light crystals harvested from spirit beasts," Cyrus muttered, stepping out of the bathroom and heading toward the desk.

If he learned an ability so easily from a life crystal, why not light?

However, his thoughts dashed at the sounds of fluttering near the window.

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"You came back?" Cyrus frowned at the sight of the canary.

Really. It came back.

Surprised, he watched it fly back into the guest room and back into the cage, nestling within a small cushion.

"I thought we had a deal, bird." —Cyrus pointed toward it— "You leave." —He pointed to himself— "I stay."

The canary remained silent. But what did he expect? It was a bird, after all. Despite this, Cyrus tried to have it leave, as it would ruin his plans to search for another pet. Not that it helped, as his attempts at communication were met with silence.

"Fine. You win," he said tiredly, moving the cage to the desk's corner. "For now. But don't think this is a place you could just stay here."

Then, without hesitation, he ignored the canary and opted to resume his studies. It wasn't like it was going to teach him about this world anyway, nor would Cyrus pretend to be best friends with the snowball.

Time passed, and evening went as quickly as it came. A tired Cyrus glanced at the white canary perched on top of the cage, staring at him. In these past hours, it had taken flight repeatedly. And every time he expected it never to return, he'd be proven wrong.

"Sleep over for tonight, then."

He then closed his eyes and looked inward at his runes. Coiled together near his heart were the fifty-six Cyrus had created so far. And now was the time for eight more.

Yet, instead of creating the life and fire runes, Cyrus hesitated. He had just obtained a new ability. Why not make more runes to supplement its strength? More runes might mean more abilities with it, not to mention it would speed up his channeling, albeit in minuscule proportions.

Why not? Cyrus sighed. What's a day in all of this waiting?

He then closed his eyes, channeling his mana from his original life rune to his light, creating eight more life runes for a total of fifteen. Having finished his work, he stood up and went to bed, paying no mind to the canary silently watching him. Another night. Another chase in that hamlet.

Tap Tap Tap

Cyrus abruptly woke. Tired and rather annoyed, he turned to the noise source.

"Oh," he muttered disappointingly. "It's early in the morning. Why are you doing this?"

Who else could it be other than the canary? And there it was, standing by the window, endlessly tapping it as if the barrier would magically disappear. Despite Cyrus' best efforts to stay in bed, he eventually got up and opened the window for it.

"And don't come back," He said tiredly, watching it fly out.

Would it come back? Hopefully not.

Time for more training. There would be many more obstacle courses and sparring sessions with Yogi, which served as a constant reminder of how inexperienced Cyrus was. Yet he took it in stride, practicing to will his life runes to where he needed them. If required to strike, he would line them up to his arm. If Cyrus needs to run, then his legs. The effects were no doubt minimal, if there were any, but that wasn't the point.

Once the training passed, a battered and sweaty Cyrus drank a health potion before returning to his room to freshen up. Then came breakfast, where the real show would begin.

Cyrus sat before the dining table, watching the staff set plates on the table.

Oh great. More vegetarian meals. What a surprise.

So far, there had not been a single serving of meat within the Dílis household. The thought reminded him of when Lord Dílis offered a place for him to stay, and he was half-tempted to remind them of it. At least then, there would be meat on the table.

Not that he was ungrateful to the warm welcome of the Dílis family. They had offered him more than he would have ever believed in a few short days. But Cyrus felt he was intruding on them. In the end, he sucked it up and decided to ask if Avalorn carried light crystals that could grant him special abilities, particularly purification since it would suit his long-term goals.

Lord Dílis clasped his hands in thought.

"I admit, having our own purifying mage would no doubt improve Avalorn's situation," he said, voice wistful. "But unfortunately, we don't have such crystals." His sharp brown eyes landed upon Cyrus. "And I'm sorry that no light mage would willingly travel out of the central states to train you, even if I offered a large sum."

Lord Dílis spoke without much disappointment, and Cyrus mirrored his feelings. It was too much of a long shot. However, Cyrus masked a smile and changed the subject.

"That is a shame. But I understand," he said, heading to the main topic. "But there is something else I wish to mention." A pause. "I plan to travel to Avalorn and explore a bit. I'm sort of becoming stir-crazy."

He laughed, yet his gaze never left Lord Dílis' countenance. This was a test—one where Cyrus chose his words carefully, neither requesting time to leave the manor nor implying a need for supervision. In the end, the steward's response would determine the course of their ever-evolving relationship.

"Of course," Lord Dílis responded, that ever-friendly smile on his lips. "You're free to do as you like."

Well, at least Cyrus wasn't a prisoner.

"Thank you."

Meanwhile, Lady Dílis, who savored her fruit jam-covered pancakes, froze mid-cut, surprised.

"You're going out?" She asked, words spitting as quickly as bullets. "I'll join you."

Cyrus waved his hands quickly as if trying to extinguish a fire. "No, no. It's okay. I wouldn't want to take your time following me around."

Please don't ruin his opportunity. Thankfully, after some coaxing from Cyrus and her father, she was convinced. However, she still followed him even to the carriage, watching over him like a mother hen.

Cyrus shrugged at her.

"I'm just going to get some supplies and take pictures," He said, ignoring the dismay on her face. "How much trouble will I get into?"

Dílis pouted, crossing her arms. "Fine. I'll feed your companion while you're out. Have you figured out a name for him yet?"

Oh right. Cyrus had forgotten about the bird. "Well, you see..." Cyrus scratched the back of his head.

But as he was about to lie, in comes the feathered snowball, rising up from the sea of white lilies and circling above the two.

"Wow, Cyrus," Dílis exclaimed, her emerald gaze lighting up at the sight of it perched on Cyrus' shoulder as if it were natural. "You work fast..." She stepped closer, further scrutinizing the duo. "I've never seen him take to anyone before," —her voice lowered to a mumble— "And here I thought it would fly away the moment it had the chance."

She was right in a sense. But Cyrus would never admit to his earlier actions. Rather, he was equally shocked that it was following him around. Didn't it want to be free?

"Maybe it's my natural charisma," Cyrus answered, faking a smile. "That's why it landed on my palm in the first place."

Dílis playfully rolled her eyes, scoffing. "Okay, Mr. Charismatic. Have fun in Avalorn." She then turned around, heading towards the manor, speaking out loud. "Oh, and Cyrus?"

Cyrus, who had climbed onto the coach's steps, turned to her. "Yeah?"

"You should really head to a barber while you're out there," Dílis teased, gifting him a smirk before closing the door.