Book 7: Chapter 6: A Restless Night

The machines hummed on, undisturbed by his silence.

Zeke remained seated at the edge of the worktable, his sisters’ old drawing still clutched in one hand, the flicker of warm lamp lights catching on the charcoal lines. A flower—unevenly drawn, hastily shaded, a dozen petals too many.

He let the paper fall.

Across the chamber, Akasha’s illusory form turned to watch him.

He turned toward her.

“You could have warned me,” he said flatly.

The silver-haired illusion beside him blinked once, her expression unreadable. “Specify.”

“The ceremony.”

“The ceremony is scheduled for tomorrow morning,” she said calmly. “Technically, you are not late.”

Zeke stared at her.

Akasha tilted her head, as if awaiting praise for her scheduling accuracy.

He closed his eyes and exhaled slowly through his nose. “That’s… not the point.”

Silence stretched between them.

Akasha’s gaze did not waver.

Zeke rubbed his temple. “I’m not planning on just attending, Akasha. I’m hosting it.”

The Spirit’s brow furrowed slightly. “That is illogical. There is a central event held for all qualifying youths. It is being organized by the Council.”

He shook his head. “She can’t attend. None of them can.”

“Why?”

“Why else?” Zeke sighed and walked to the nearest workbench, clearing a small patch among the clutter of enchanted glass and copper coils. “All the kids awakening tomorrow have been part of my meditation research group. Maya. Lue. The rest. We’ve been experimenting on their mana absorption habits for years now.”

Akasha nodded once. “I am aware.”

“And I have no idea what’s going to happen when they awaken.” He looked over his shoulder. “But what I can say with utmost certainty is that it will not be a regular awakening. Tell me, do you think it would be a good idea to have that happen in front of a crowd?”

Akasha’s eyes narrowed ever so slightly. “Point acknowledged.”

Zeke continued tidying without speaking, movements sharp but measured. After a moment, Akasha walked to his side, materializing a list in midair—a projection of all registered participants within the mansion’s records.

“Do you wish me to cancel the public attendance officially?”

Zeke shook his head. “Our station is high enough that we don’t have to explain ourselves anymore. If anything, it would likely draw more attention if we did. Let them think of me as an eccentric instead.”

Akasha folded her hands behind her back. “There is no need for concern, Host. We still have more than enough time to prepare.”

She took a step closer. “The procedure of awakening is mechanically simple. A steady infusion of unaligned Mana until the aspirant’s Core activates. There is little variance. The use of a tool such as an awakening crystal is optional.”

Zeke looked up from the workbench, brows raised.

“Yes,” he said dryly. “But if I just shove mana into them in a dark room like some cultist, they’ll never forgive me, nor should they.”

Akasha blinked again.

“You forget,” he added, “these are kids. Important ones. Lue is Jett’s granddaughter. Maya is my sister. The rest? Children of people who’ve worked for the estate longer than I’ve been alive. Subjects of Maximilian who volunteered their kids for our experiments out of sheer faith and loyalty. Trust me, they’ll be watching closely. I can’t afford to half-ass this.”

The Spirit paused. “You believe it will affect morale?”

“I believe,” Zeke said slowly, “that they deserve better than a basement ritual and a pat on the back.”

He leaned on the table and stared down at the bare surface. For a moment, his thoughts drifted to his own awakening. The vast circular room of the Elementium. The crystal. The pressure. The awe. The way the crowd had gasped when his Core flared to life. It had meant something. It still meant something.

For a moment, the memory swelled. How small he'd felt beneath the crystal’s radiance, how proud he’d been when the verdict came. A perfect affinity. It was the first time he’d believed the future could belong to him.

“I want them to have that,” he murmured. “Maybe not the crowd. But the feeling. That this is a moment that matters.”

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Akasha was quiet for a moment longer. Then she said, “Understood. What do you need, Host?”

Zeke straightened.

“…A plan.”

Akasha’s gaze met his, her full attention locked on him, ready to be his hands and feet. The sight gave him back a measure of confidence.

For anyone else, organizing a proper ceremony with so little time left would be impossible. For him and Akasha? There might actually be hope.

“How many are attending?”

The Spirit responded without pause. “Twenty-five. About half are turning fourteen this year, the rest are older but delayed the ceremony to prolong exposure.”

Zeke nodded, vaguely recalling that he had given such an order.

“We need a crystal,” he said after a moment. “Even if it’s not strictly necessary for the awakening itself. The visual impact is worth it.”

Akasha nodded, the earlier dismissiveness gone. Though she likely still didn’t fully grasp the human obsession with ritual, she trusted his judgment enough to now consider it essential.

“I have never seen an awakening crystal in person, but I am confident I can create something that serves the same function. It will not be cheap. Do I have permission to proceed?”

“Do it,” he ordered, without hesitation. If Akasha claimed confidence, it meant she was certain of success.

As soon as the words left his mouth, one of the workbenches whirred to life. From the corner of his eye, he saw enchantments begin to carve themselves into a large affinity crystal. It had likely cost several hundred gold, if not more, but Zeke didn’t mourn the loss.

He would have paid ten times that amount to slightly increase his chances of making the ceremony a memorable experience for the kids and his sister.

“Next: We need to think about clothing. At my ceremony, the older students wore official Elementium robes, and I remember how jealous and eager I was when I saw them. I want something similar.”

Akasha remained still while he considered what exactly he needed.

“…There was that magic weave we bought during the auction,” he mused aloud. “Would it be possible to use that technique?”

“Yes, Host. Depending on the quantity and quality of your requirements, something like that would be possible.”

Zeke thought it over for a moment. He wanted something that would make an impression on a fourteen-year-old. He tried to recall what would have thrilled him at that age.

“…Can you weave an enchantment that adds a self-cleaning function to the robes? While still keeping them durable enough for combat?”

Zeke had assumed the request might be too ambitious, but to his surprise, Akasha nodded without hesitation.

“Simple enough. Shall I begin?”

Zeke nodded, tempted to dive into the specifics of how she planned to meet his request, but he knew now wasn’t the time.

A moment later, he felt a significant draw on his Core. This time, the Spirit was using a substantial amount of Mana to complete the task. A quick glance over his shoulder gave him a glimpse of her progress.

The robes were being woven from elven silkweave, ensuring both comfort and durability. As for the enchantment, from what he could discern, it involved a Water-based effect.

Dehumidification?

That was... rather clever.

Without moisture, nothing would cling, especially not to silkweave, a material already resistant to stains. If the enchantment worked as he suspected, the robes would be nearly impossible to soil while worn by a Mage.

That reminded him of something important.

“I’ll need an outfit,” he said, eyes drifting to the rapidly moving needles that spun golden thread into the forming robe. “Something that commands presence.”

“Specify.”

“During my awakening, the host, Victor Windtänzer—curse him—carried a staff that looked more expensive than the village I grew up in. I didn’t fully understand its value at the time, but I remember being awed by its appearance. I want something like that.”

This time, Akasha remained silent, not answering immediately.

“I... am not confident in my fashion sense, Host.”

Zeke shook his head, suppressing a wry smile. He hadn’t expected her to design it on her own. His thoughts flicked through a few designs he had been considering, fully aware she would pick up on them.

“What do you think?”

“…Ambitious,” the Spirit said. “I could likely manage it. However, only if there are no further requests. The rest would be up to Host.”

Zeke nodded slowly. There was one thing left on his list, the most important one. But even if Akasha were free, it was unlikely she could help him.

“Do it.”

At his command, Akasha flickered out of existence, the work around him intensifying. She had likely decided she couldn’t spare the extra Mana to maintain her illusory form.

That was fine with him.

He needed time to think anyway.

The last thing missing was a location to hold the ceremony.

The Elementium had used a grand banquet hall, with the cardinal directions divided by the four elements. It had been a breathtaking sight. Unfortunately, Zeke couldn’t leave his estate without risking being watched. Here, within these walls, he could guarantee some level of privacy. Anything beyond them was a gamble he wasn’t willing to take.

The problem was, no room in the entire mansion could even come close to the majesty of that banquet hall. No matter how he looked at it, the ceremony would suffer because of it.

If only he had a chamber for such occasions. A place for important rituals and...

He ran a hand through his hair, muttering a curse. “There has to be something.”

His eyes flicked across the chamber walls, ceiling, and the mess of half-finished projects.

And then...

He froze.

Sitting on the floor was a cube, its presence a constant hum in the back of his mind. A few steps away, a doorway hovered, a seamless portal leading to a vast plane.

Could he? Should he?

The idea was preposterous. And yet, infinitely intriguing. Naturally, he could never reveal the existence or nature of the World Anchor, not even to his closest allies. But was there a way to use it without exposing its secrets?

With a flick of his thought, Zeke connected to the cube, reshaping the location and structure of the portal entrance.

The oval shimmer warped, resisted briefly, then stretched into a rectangular doorway. A moment later, after a bit more mental coaxing, it aligned perfectly with the frame of his chamber door.

Zeke blinked, then a slow smile crept across his face.

From the outside, the door looked unchanged—just another entryway. But now, it opened into a verdant paradise, the stone floor of his room giving way to a lush green field with one step. The transition was as seamless as it was surreal, a scene that didn’t seem to belong.

And yet, despite the jarring shift, his mind struggled to pinpoint what felt wrong. The world beyond the door seemed just as real as the one he stood in.

This... could actually work.

Zeke took a step toward the portal, then another. A moment later, he crossed the threshold. The world inside the cube began to transform even before his foot touched down. When it finally did, it landed not on soft grass but on a floor of polished marble.

Zeke looked around, his smile widening at the sight.

Oh, this was going to be awesome.

With a racing heart, Zeke began to reshape the world inside the cube. Marble columns rose from the floor, opulent tapestries wove themselves into existence, and an altar emerged from the intangible stone.

A chamber of unparalleled splendor was beginning to take form. In this world, there were no boundaries to what he could create. The only limit was his imagination.