For some time now, summer had settled over the island of Agnos with that slow gentleness found only in places surrounded by water.

  The rooftops gleamed beneath the sun’s rays, and the air carried the scent of salt and dry grass, borne by a light breeze coming in from the open sea.

  In the inner courtyard, students were taking advantage of the day off to stroll about in small groups. Some, discomforted by the heat, had removed their uniform jackets to lighten themselves. Laughter drifted amid the buzzing of cicadas. Here and there, the metallic clang of a training weapon could be heard, or the muted rustle of pages being turned in the shade of the galleries.

  The atmosphere had changed since the end of spring. It had grown calmer, more relaxed, as if the island itself were savoring the respite offered by the season.

  Atop the surrounding wall, Elwyn walked slowly, his measured steps betraying neither haste nor distraction. His jacket lifted gently in the breeze, and his hair—blue like a raven’s wing—caught the light with an almost liquid sheen. The bluish reflections, deep and shifting, seemed to absorb the sunlight as much as they reflected it.

  Since their return from the Chaos Lands with Loyd, nothing had truly changed on the surface.

  Their report, submitted to the Divinity Ogme and to Ezekiel, had been sealed under secrecy. Only they, along with Nalinaya, knew the details of that impromptu expedition.

  This silence surrounding the event was not a burden, but a precaution. For a Chaos portal opening on Agnos, even a harmless one, would be enough to shake the world’s confidence in the island’s safety, guaranteed since its founding by an ancient agreement between two Divinities.

  Since then, other news had spread. Various reports spoke of a portal opening near the border between Hercor and Aelynthi. Creatures of Chaos had sown disorder there, causing several deaths in a human village. Others, having strayed, had entered the elven forest before being eliminated. The portal had eventually been sealed by a group of adventurers, but one of them had lost their life in the process.

  The world thus continued to live with these fleeting ruptures, like an organism slowly healing its own wounds.

  When he reached the top of the Academy’s great gate, Elwyn paused for a moment to observe the main courtyard.

  Not far from the central garden, a small gathering caught his attention. A workshop had formed near the stone benches, where the trees provided some shade. An invited artisan, an ether engraver, was explaining his delicate craft to a group of students while working on a raw crystal to inscribe the element of fire within it.

  Elwyn stopped, silent, watching the instructor’s precise and measured gestures. The fine metal needle bit into the crystal, releasing a purple dust immediately carried away by the wind. He followed each movement, each turn of the wrist, mentally noting the regularity of the strokes and the sharpness of the characters. It was a demanding art, almost meditative, where the slightest mistake could distort the ether’s meaning and render the object unusable.

  — Elwyn! called a voice behind him.

  Loyd had just climbed the steps two at a time, his energy as overflowing as ever.

  — Looks like you’re getting lost in contemplation today, he said with a grin.

  — Observing is already a step toward understanding, Elwyn replied calmly.

  — Always the philosopher… but that won’t change the fact that you’ll never be a mage, Loyd sighed, crossing his arms.

  — I know. But understanding how an object works means knowing how to use it to its fullest.

  — And you think that’ll change the price of a crystal like that? Those things cost an arm and a leg. Come on, we’re waiting for you up there.

  He gestured toward the terrace of the Great Library, then resumed walking without waiting for an answer.

  Elwyn followed him, serene, his gaze still inhabited by what he had just observed.

  On the terrace, around a table, Nahira, Sylaria, and Arimélia were already seated.

  Nahira was writing in a small notebook, her brow bent over the page, while Sylaria flipped through a grimoire whose pages fluttered in the light breeze. Arimélia, for her part, was idly savoring a summer fruit, legs crossed, eyes half-closed, wrapped in the warmth of the sun.

  — There you are at last. We were wondering if you’d gotten lost somewhere on the island, Nahira said without lifting her eyes.

  — I was taking a walk.

  — Always so eloquent, Sylaria murmured with a smile.

  Loyd sat down across from them, set down a basket of food from the canteen, and began cutting into his still-warm bread.

  — There! I stocked up before everything got cleaned out.

  — You always prepare as if a war were about to break out, Nahira remarked without much teasing.

  — The one I’d start if I were left hungry too long, Loyd shot back.

  Soon, the air was filled with the scent of mint and lemon from the tea Sylaria had just poured.

  On this midday of a rest day, nothing seemed capable of disturbing the tranquility of Agnos.

  These days allowed students to breathe, to wander, to exchange, or simply to rest. Some professors—or even a few outside artisans like the one earlier—took advantage of them to organize small demonstrations for those wishing to learn in a different way.

  Summer on the island had that studious lightness, that living calm where everything seemed to breathe at its own pace.

  Elwyn took his seat in turn, listening without intervening to his friends’ exchanges. Nahira spoke of a movement-binding spell she wished to test later, Sylaria mentioned a romance novel she had just finished, and Loyd recounted—for the third time already—how he had defeated a fourth-year student in fencing without using his powers. Arimélia remained silent, but her attentive gaze betrayed a quiet interest in the conversation.

  The meal unfolded in an almost unreal serenity.

  The warm wind rustled the leaves, voices mingling with the murmur of the sea below.

  Everything seemed to be finding its balance once more.

  When the meal ended, Nahira closed her notebook, Sylaria put away her book, and Loyd turned toward Elwyn.

  — Free training this afternoon. You coming?

  — Not today.

  — That an excuse to avoid sweating?

  — No. I have something to do in town.

  Loyd shrugged and stood up.

  Elwyn bid his friends farewell, then headed toward the stairs of the Great Library.

  The air there was cooler, heavy with the scent of ink and old leather. A few students, seated among the shelves, read in silence. Others exchanged theories, notes, or muffled laughter in low voices.

  The place felt outside of time, suspended between light and silence.

  Suddenly, a small scarlet bird appeared from the Ethereal Plane. It circled before Elwyn, then dissolved into a mist of ether.

  “Summons from the Divinity Ogme…”

  The young nephilim immediately went down to the ground floor and knocked on the door of Nalinaya’s office before entering.

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  The sylph was busy with accounting, assisted by an abacus on her desk. The steady clacking of wooden beads, moved by subtle currents of air, filled the room with a soothing rhythm.

  She barely glanced at Elwyn as he closed the door behind him, then returned to her papers.

  — You may go. Ogme is waiting for you, and it’s important.

  — Very well.

  Elwyn then entered the Divinity’s office.

  The place, vast and orderly, was bathed in diffuse light filtered through tall tinted windows. The familiar scent of old paper mingled with the subtler smell of fresh ink. Stacks of books and reports lined the shelves with almost geometric precision, bearing witness to the methodical mind of their owner.

  Ogme, seated behind his large desk of solid wood, slowly lifted his gaze from his documents. In his full-moon eyes, where fragments of a starry sky shimmered, there was a tranquil, almost cosmic depth that seemed to examine Elwyn without a word.

  — You sent for me? the young nephilim asked.

  — Close the door, please, Ogme replied calmly, in that measured voice that never allowed haste.

  The soft click of the door echoed briefly before silence settled again, dense yet soothing. Ogme took the time to set aside the quill he was holding, placing it on a crystal stand, then rose.

  — Some time ago, I learned that an old specialist and master of magical engraving had fallen ill.

  Elwyn frowned slightly.

  — What exactly is he suffering from?

  — Internal ether crystallization.

  The young nephilim straightened. Ogme’s tone alone was enough to convey that this was no ordinary case.

  — Crystallization… inside the body?

  — In the lungs, the Divinity specified.

  He paused and turned his gaze toward the colored stained glass at the back of the room.

  — This individual spent years manipulating ether crystals. Over time, by breathing in residual dust day after day, it accumulated in his lungs.

  Elwyn stepped forward slightly.

  — I see… So over time, the ether density gradually increased in his lungs. When the concentration exceeds a certain threshold in a confined space, the ether reaches saturation and begins to aggregate, slowly forming an ever-growing crystal.

  He crossed his arms, gaze lowered, absorbed in thought.

  — These crystals reform with each new saturation caused by breathing ether, creating new hardened points… Gradually, the internal structure of the lungs stiffens, trapping ever more ether. A vicious cycle, sustained by the very act of breathing.

  Ogme nodded slowly.

  — Indeed. And given his current condition, you are the only one capable of intervening.

  Elwyn raised his eyes to him. Ogme’s tone held no flattery—only a weighed, undeniable certainty.

  — I don’t doubt it. His lungs must be quite rigid for you to call on me.

  A brief silence followed.

  — He is a stubborn man. Obstinate, even. He never wanted to be examined, claiming it was a waste of time. It was his disciple who brought him here, after I informed him that a competent healer was present on Agnos.

  — You told them about me?

  — Not directly. I simply mentioned the passage of a Life Entity on this island. And to spare you trouble, you may use the mask and cloak you received from Zyrenth.

  — Oh… very well. I’ll make do. I suppose it would be best to avoid crossing paths with anyone from the Academy.

  — Preferably. In fact, his disciple is currently at the Academy. He is participating in a magical engraving demonstration.

  Elwyn raised an eyebrow slightly.

  — I saw him earlier. He’s truly impressive.

  — That is correct. But he has not yet reached the same level of aptitude and efficiency as his master.

  Ogme paused, then opened a drawer in his desk and removed a small brown leather pouch, closed with a braided cord. When he placed it on the desk, the leather gave a faint rustle.

  — You will need this.

  Elwyn stepped closer and gently pulled the cord.

  Inside, three pendants lay side by side on dark velvet. The first was bronze, the second silver, and the third gold.

  — Healer pendants, Elwyn noted, picking up the bronze one.

  — Bronze identifies apprentices and practitioners under supervision, the Divinity explained.

  He then indicated the silver one.

  — Silver is given to confirmed healers, recognized by their peers and by the Life Entities.

  Then he took the gold pendant.

  — And this one… is granted only to those who can heal what others do not yet understand. It is also a universal authorization, a safe-conduct.

  — These are mostly held by the Entities of my Domain, aren’t they?

  — Yes, indeed. But few of you can exist on the Material Plane.

  — At the same time, we are only an aid, not a solution, Elwyn replied, before fixing his gaze on the three pendants.

  — Only my mother’s is missing for the collection to be complete.

  — That is true, Ogme admitted after a brief silence.

  — But I must keep my origins secret a little longer.

  For a fleeting second, the Divinity Ogme allowed himself a very slight smile.

  — These pendants will help complete your disguise. And in the future, depending on the circumstances, you will need to choose the one that raises the fewest questions, for your peace of mind.

  He closed the pouch and handed it to Elwyn.

  — Very well. Thank you for this, Elwyn replied calmly as he slipped it into his jacket.

  After a short silence, Ogme spoke again.

  — The man you are going to heal is not merely an artisan. He has crafted tools, weapons, and ether crystals whose engravings have saved countless lives. He also made certain magical objects affordable for the people. His loss would be detrimental to many, he added, before sitting back down and resuming his quill.

  — Go see him as soon as possible, Ogme concluded.

  Elwyn inclined his head slightly.

  — Very well. I’ll go at once.

  He turned around and closed the door behind him. The warmth of Nalinaya’s office felt more intense—almost aggressive—after the coolness of the Divinity’s.

  In his pocket, his fingers brushed against the small leather pouch. The pendants chimed faintly, a discreet, clear, almost reassuring sound.

  Once in his room, Elwyn changed into simple, light clothing. A beige shirt, brown trousers, and a leather belt, concealed beneath a dark hooded cloak, completed his appearance. He placed a smooth, expressionless white mask over his face. Beneath his shirt, he slipped the golden healer pendant, storing the other symbols in his wardrobe.

  When his disguise was complete and his backpack secured, he shifted Planes to move with the utmost discretion.

  Thus, after manifesting a levitating ether plate beneath his feet—so as to avoid a four-story fall once the transfer was complete—Elwyn left the dormitory to reach the main courtyard.

  The engraving disciple, a young man in his early twenties dressed in a midnight-blue work tunic, was carefully packing engraving instruments into a leather case. His light brown hair, cut short, framed a focused face where pale gray eyes gleamed behind thin, round spectacles meant for precision work. On his fingers, traces of ether dust gave off faint purple reflections.

  — You are the disciple of the ill magical engraver, correct? Elwyn asked calmly, displaying his gold pendant after making sure no one was watching before changing Planes.

  The young man startled, stifling a small cry of surprise, then nodded vigorously.

  — Yes, sir. The carriage is waiting for us at the exit.

  — In that case, let us go, Elwyn replied, before shifting Planes again.

  Thus, each from their own Plane, they headed toward the Academy’s exit to take the road to Erana.

  _________________________

  The carriage rolled along at a good pace, and the sun, high and relentless, flooded the road with white light. Through the open hatch, the sea wind rushed in in gusts. Salvor, the young disciple, clutched his case to his chest, not daring to speak.

  Elwyn, motionless, watched the landscape pass by.

  It was Salvor who finally broke the silence.

  — It’s my first time coming to Agnos. People talk about it often on the continent, but I never imagined… this, he admitted.

  Elwyn turned his head slightly toward him, without answering.

  — The place is more imposing than I thought. Especially the Great Library. Even from afar it’s impressive, but up close, it’s something else entirely.

  — It is still an academy. A place of study and work, Elwyn replied calmly.

  — Perhaps. But it is still where the great figures of this world send their children, isn’t it? Salvor said with a somewhat awkward smile.

  — That is true. But the Academy remains a neutral ground. No political power holds sway there.

  The young man nodded thoughtfully.

  — I had the honor of meeting the Divinity Ogme upon my arrival. I… did not expect his presence to be so overwhelming, he admitted in a low voice.

  — He is a very ancient being. His mere existence commands respect and silence. Not to mention his power.

  — Yes. And yet, he spoke to me like a student. As if nothing truly separated him from us.

  — That is one of the wishes of the Divinities, and of certain Entities. To try to integrate into the world as much as they can, despite their nature and their powers.

  — And you as well? Salvor asked innocently.

  Elwyn paused briefly, his gaze lost on the horizon.

  — Me… I would say that applies to me as well.

  A short silence followed. The carriage continued on its way to the steady rhythm of hooves and wind.

  — In any case, I understand better now why Master Meren wanted me to see this place with my own eyes. He said that some phenomena cannot be described—that they must be observed.

  — He was right. Words often betray what they seek to explain.

  Salvor lowered his gaze to his hands, marked with faint traces of dried ether.

  — I’ll try not to be a burden, he murmured.

  — You won’t be. As long as you observe, everything will be fine, Elwyn replied.

  The carriage continued along the road in the vibrant daylight. The wind once more poured in through the hatch, carrying with it a mingled scent of salt and heated metal.