For a week after we moved, I tagged along with Al on his pig operations, ag as his pacifier. Every day, I put on a cert for the s’s inhabitants. The haunting notes of my musifused with the Are Lulby, echoed through the misty air, blending with the natural sounds of the s. The restless creatures seemed to calm, their usual rustling fading away. Within the heart of the s, the resonance of the music reached deep, its magic extending to touch every er. By the end of the week, my Are Lulby had leveled up to 7, and my violin pying had reached level 3.

  Floating a couple of meters above the ground, angled as if reing on an invisible chair, I let the music flow through me, holding the music sheets with telekinesis, my voice humming in harmony to weave the magito the melody. The surreal sensation of merging music with magic brought an odd sense of peace. The soft, muted sounds of the s mixed with the hum of the violin, creating a tranquil atmosphere that felt almost sacred. I’ve always loved music, even the cssical pieces that others might find too formal, so this was the perfect opportunity to indulge one of my deepest passions while tributing to Al’s safety.

  As the days passed, I noticed something peculiar—the attacks on the house stopped entirely. At first, I wondered if it was just because we had elimihe shat cimed the hill as their territory. Their former domain now y quiet, devoid of any creatures willing to challenge us. But there was something more to it, I realized. The s itself seemed to respond to my music as if it had been waiting for someoo speak its nguage. Perhaps the creatures had been listeniertained, or soothed by the certs. A wry thought crossed my mind—maybe they don’t wao stop eaining them?

  Each day, we ventured farther from home, moving in an ever-widening circle around the hill. The deeper we went into the s, the more the ndscape ged, with dense foliage and murky waters being familiar panions. We no longer o push directly into the depths; instead, we made our way around the hill in a methodical pattern, expl every inch. Even so, after a week, the journey back took longer and longer, stretg to two hours as we moved farther afield. I hoped that Al had gathered enough pnts, or at least that we would sooo sider moving to another spot.

  On the seventh day of harvesting, the s threw us a curveball. Out of nowhere, a thick fog rolled in, sm the entire area in a matter of mihe air grew heavy, and visibility dropped to nearly nothing—I couldn’t see half a meter ahead. The s’s usual sounds faded into an eerie silence, swallowed by the dense mist. I couldn’t even see Al, though I felt him nearby. I flew by feeling through the fog until my hand found his shoulder. The mist g to us, damp and unnerving, muffling every attempt to speak. I tried to shout over the fog’s oppressive presence, but the fog swallowed my voice whole. Telepathy was our only option. “We o go back,” I sent the thought to him.

  “How? I ’t see anything,” Al’s reply came back, tinged with .

  “Store the jet ski, get on my back, and I’ll fly us home.”

  “How do you io locate the house?”

  “I always feel where Rue is. I’ll fly slowly to avoid running into trees, heading toward Rue.”

  “I didn’t sider that. Very well.”

  With Al on my back, I took to the air, flying low and slow to avoid the trees that loomed out of the fog. The journey was tehe mist swirling around us like a living thing. Several times, dark shapes loomed out of the whiteness, f me to swerve to avoid crashing into the thick trunks. Each time, the fog parted just enough to show the obstacle before closing in again. It took us nearly three hours to reach the house—I didn’t dare fly any faster—but we made it back, the familiar outline of the porch a wele sight in the gloom.

  After settling Al on the porch, I stepped bato the mist, curiosity gnawing at me. There was something unnatural about this fog. It wasn’t just thick; it felt alive, pulsing with energy that tugged at my mana senses. I closed my eyes, letting my mana spread out, searg for the source of this strange phenomenon. The fog carried the faint essences of water and wind, a bination that should have felt familiar, but there was something more, something deeper that I couldn’t quite pce. I had once reached oneness with water oh, but sihen, I hadn’t reached that same e. Now, standing in the heart of this magical fog, I let go of my thoughts and allowed myself to sink into the sensation.

  The fog wasn’t just arou was an integral part of the s, a blend of elements that had merged in perfect harmony. I started by uanding its pos: the cool, damp essence of water and the subtle, flowing currents of wind. As I attuned myself to these elements, I felt a deep sense of acceptance wash over me, a reition of how they iwined, her overp the other, creating somethiirely new and banced.

  Gradually, I ected with the fog on a deeper level. It wasn’t just abnizing its presence—I allowed myself to sink into it, to feel the way the water and wind melded together, f a unified whole. Drawing on my experieh wind trol, I extended my influence, and the e deepened. It wasn’t merely oneness I felt; it was something more profound, a true Unity with the fog.

  As I focused, the boundary between myself and the fog blurred. I wasn’t just in the fog—I was the fog. Every shift in the air, every ripple of moisture, I could se all as if it were a part of me. With this newfound uanding, I moved with it, guiding its flow with a thought. I slowly moved my hands to the sides, and the fog parted, following the motion of my hands as if it were a curtain being drawn aside. The mist obediently split in two, revealing a clear path before me, as though the very air was bending to my will.

  It wasn’t like my trol htning, which had e from repeatedly feeling it course through my body and deeply uanding its nature. This was different—more anic, more innate.

  I lifted my arms higher, palms fag upward, and the mist rose from the ground, swirling gracefully toward the treetops. Then, with a slow, deliberate motion, I lowered my hands, palms fag down, and the mist desded, settling back over the s like a curtain at the end of a performance.

  I knew I wasn’t yet capable of creating fog on my own—not on this scale, at least. I might manage a small patch if I infused mana with the aspects of water and wind, but full trol would take more time and practice. Still, something drew me deeper into the s, an instinctual pull that told me the fog was ing from a specific point. Closing my eyes again, I let my senses reach out, fog on the faint traana that seemed more trated in one dire. Not that the fog was thicker there, but the mana was denser, more substantial.

  I flew toward that point, the fog parting before me as I moved. The jourook nearly three hours; the mist ging to me as I navigated through the s’s byrinth of trees and marshes. When I finally arrived, what I found was something I never expected to see. There, at the heart of the s, was the vent I had sensed earlier, the one I detected when searg for a pce to pce the house. From this vent, mist poured out like steam from a geyser, but it wasn’t just any mist—it was green and pulsing with mana.

  I focused on the mist, feeling the rich currents of water and nature mana swirling within it, along with a faint touch of wind. It was as if the fog had gathered the wind as it spread out through the s. The mana was so dehat I felt a slight it my els, a sign that the energy here was far more trated than I was used to. It wasn’t unfortable, just a reminder of the power that y beh the surface.

  I extended my mana sense, sing the area around the vent. The pnts here were different, their mana signatures s that they felt almost like dungeoions rather than natural growths. After watg Al collets for nearly two weeks, I felt fident enough to gather them myself. Using telekinesis, I carefully lifted the roots along with the surrounding mud, preserving their iy as I stored them away. I worked methodically, expanding the circle around the vent with each pass, colleg as much as I could. Eventually, the itg in my els faded, but the vent tio release a steady flow of mana, enrig the surrounding area.

  As the sky darkened, I k was time to head back. I took o look at the vent, then turned and flew home, the fog parting before me like a curtain. About halfway back, I noticed the fog thinning, as if it were retreating to its source. The phenomenon intrigued me, but there would be time to explore it further iure. And now I had Mist under my wizard abilities. As always by this point, only Mist, nothing beside it, but I was used to it.

  When I returned, I showed Al the pnts I had gathered. He ied them, his curiosity piqued. “Where did you find these?” he asked, gng up at me with i.

  I expined how I had tracked the fog to its sourd discovered the vent. His expression shifted as he absorbed the information. “We should returomorrow.”

  “They’re that good?”

  “They are better than good. Exceptional is how I would describe them.”

  “Okay.”

  The day, I took Al to the vent area. The journey by jet ski was slow, taking us nearly five hours, a far cry from the speed of flight. Once we arrived, I helped Al collect the pnts using the same method I had the day before. He mentioned nothing about my teique, which I took as a sign that I was doing it right. After we had finished, I offered him a ride back to the house on my back—I wasn’t eager for another five-hour trek by jet ski, aher was he.

  That evening, as we sat together, Mahya suggested, “If you found such a good cluster of pnts by log that vent,” she said, “maybe it would be a good idea for you to fly over the s and see if there are more vents. There could be mood things there.”

  Al’s face lit up, and I could tell he was already pnning. “That’s a splendid idea,” he said, his enthusiasm clear. “I already have ideas for the pnts we collected.”

  I nodded in agreement. “Sounds like a pn.”

  We tinued our discussion, and Al’s excitement remained undiminished. “I’ve been pting a few different potions I could craft from the pnts we gathered today,” he expined, his eyes gleaming with anticipation. “One could be a potent healing draught, anht serve as a stamina enhancer, and if I blend the correct herbs, I believe I could even formute a potion to enhance mana regeion.” His mind was clearly engaged, filled with many possibilities.

  Mahya listened ily, nodding as Al spoke. When he finished, she added, “Sounds like you’ve got some promising ideas there.” She then shifted the versation slightly, sharing her own progress. “I’ve been making some headway on verting the first Jeep into Magitech. There’s still a lot of work to be done,” she admitted, “but I’m making steady progress.”

  She paused, then added with a smirk, “Or at least, I’m steadily dismantling the Jeep—I haven’t quite reached the stage of starting the blueprint and rune work yet.”

  The day, I took to the air, flying above the trees, and started a bad-forth search pattern, tuning in to my senses. It didn’t take long before I located the vent we already knew about, which retty good sign that I was on the right track. The s was huge, and after a whole day of flying, I’d only covered about thirty pert of it. I could have flown faster, but I wasn’t sure if I’d still be able to sehe vents at higher speeds. Unfortunately, I found nothing new on that first day.

  But on the sed day, things started looking up. Not too long after I set out, I caught a faint pulse of mana—something different from the usual s vibes. I zeroed in on it, and there it was: another vent, hiddeh the thick opy, releasing its magito the air. That I found it so quickly gave me a boost of fidence, so I picked up the pace, figuring I could sehe vents even while moving faster.

  I kept sing the s all day, c mround, and as evening approached, I felt another surge of mana ing from a different dire. I followed the trail and found a third vent.

  H above the s, a thought struck me. The location of the vents wasn’t random at all—they created the s. Looking at the Map, the s looked like a boat with a sail, and the vents lined up perfectly: the first one was in the “front” half of the boat, the sed in the “back” half, and the third in the “sail.”

  It made sehe vents were the heart of the s, pumping out the magic that shaped the nd, fed the pnts, and maybe even influehe creatures that lived there. The s wasn’t just some wild patch of nd; it was a living, breathing ecosystem, and these vents were the lifeblood that kept it all going. Realizing that made me see the s in a whole new light—it wasn’t just a pce we stumbled into; it was something much more iional, something shaped by the magic deep within it.

  I got home te that night, h above the s and thinking profound thoughts.

  Happens even to the best of us.

  “The problem with the vents I found is their distance,” I informed them in the m. “There’s no way we reach them with the jet skis.”

  Mahya frowned, sidering the issue. “So what do we do?”

  “We’ll close up the house,” I suggested, “and I’ll fly both of you to the vents.”

  “ we nd directly above the vents?” Al asked.

  I shook my head. “No, the vegetation’s too dehere. But I’ll get us as close as possible, and from there, we use the jet skis.”

  “Good idea,” Mahya agreed.

  Once we were all on the same page, I gave the core an order to close the house. Al and Mahya each ed an arm around my shoulders, and I hugged their waists iurn. As we lifted off, I couldn’t help but feel relieved Rue had learo fly on his own—I definitely didn’t have enough hands for everyone.

  When we arrived at the vent area, I found a spot open enough to safely get everyone off. H above the water, I watched as they took out the jet skis, and then carefully lowered them onto the surface. Rue joined us, bang fidently on his ow ski. He had more than enough mana to keep flying, but I knew he just loved riding the jet ski.

  They advaoward the vent o skis while I flew overhead, singing to calm the numerous creatures stirring in the s below. There were more of them than usual, but my song seemed to keep them at bay.

  As roached fifty meters from the vent, a swarm of leeches suddenly jumped out of the water and tched onto them with arming speed.

  Mahya jumped up into a nearby tree, and shouted, “They absorb mana.” frantically pulling the leeches off herself.

  “Al, hang on!” I shouted, swooping down to grab him and lift him into the air.

  Rue, thanks to his thick fur, was mostly ued—until a leech tched onto his nose. With a quick lick, he spat it out aally shouted, “Yikes!” making us all flinch.

  The minute I was low enough, some leeches jumped on me, and I could feel them sug the mana out of my body. The sensation was like the time I had to cast Exude Mana on myself to get rid of an awful curse in the UK.

  I flew toward Mahya, who reached out and pulled Al into the safety of the tree. Once he was secure, I nded beside them, and we all worked together to remove the leeches that had tched onto him ahe little parasites had drained a signifit amount of mana, leaving us all feeling slightly weakened.

  As we rested iree, trying tee the lost mana, I noticed the leeches beginning to climb up the trunk, drawn to us like mags.

  “Not again,” Mahya muttered, her eyes narrowing.

  “We o move!” I urged. Without hesitation, Mahya jumped to aree, and I took to the air once more, flying with Al over to join her. We repeated this mawice more, but with each leap, the leeches seemed to follow, relentless in their pursuit.

  I finally had enough. H above the water, I gathered my energy, and with a sharp fliy hand, I unleashed a bolt of lightning into the s. The electricity crackled and danced across the surface, and in an instant, the water below us boiled with energy. The bolt of lightning I unleashed into the s fried every lee the water, causing their bodies to float lifelessly to the surface.

  “We’re clear,” I called out, nding in a nearby tree where we could catch our breath. Al sed the ground below.

  “Nothing iing down there except more leeches,” he announced.

  “Let’s get out of here, then,” I decided. ing an arm around each of them, I flew us back to where we had left the jet skis. Once we were safely ba them, we sped away, leaving the leefested waters behind.

  When we reached an area with less dense foliage, I picked them up again, and we headed back to our hill. I flew with my profile open, monit my mana levels—the leeches had drained a lot out of me. Luckily, my regeion was good, and the proximity to the vent helped, as we nded orees, I recovered most of the mana they had siphoned from me. Still, it was a very unpleasant experiehose leeches were vicious.

  Whe home, I asked them, “As I was flying back, something occurred to me. The leeches orees survived the lightning strike. Do you think they might be useful for something? Their ability to absorb mana is off the charts.”

  Mahya and Al looked at me like I’d lost my mind.

  “Don’t look at me like that. I really think the leeches’ ability to absorb mana is iing.”

  “Iing, maybe,” Mahya replied, “but what exactly are you pnning to do with them? Throw them at someone? And where would you keep them? You ’t put living things in Ste. No matter how hard you try, it won’t work. Are you going to fly around holding them in your hand?”

  Fair point.

  “You’re right. Fet it.”

  After dealing with the leeches, I felt an overwhelming need for a long bath. My spell was amazing, but sometimes only water truly do the job. As I soaked ih, I found myself hoping with every fiber of my being that Al had gathered enough pnts. I was getting thhly fed up with the s. It was great for my Are Lulby, and the fog was intriguing—but I was still pletely doh the s.