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He scrambled to his feet and moved closer to examine them.

They seemed relatively simple—a large circle with three triangles, the heads pointing in different directions, one up, one left, and one right, along with large dots in the spaces between each triangle, and one under it. If there were other markings, he could not see them due to how faded the etchings were.

“It seems you’ve found something most interesting now, Devol,” the older Magi said quietly and startled him when he stepped close beside him.

“Uh, yeah, I assume so.” He traced his fingers along the grooves. “They look like some kind of symbol but I can barely make them out.”

“You wouldn’t be able to see them at all if it weren’t for the fact that you’ve kept your Anima up the whole day,” Vaust told him.

Devol looked incredulously at the mori, then at his hands. Sure enough, his Anima was still present, albeit at a much smaller scale. He had not meant to maintain it but he felt almost no drain on his Mana. It lingered on him almost like a subconscious thought.

His companion folded his arms and looked at him, his expression somber. “I’ll keep this brief as we have another challenge awaiting us. As I explained, the trinity has to do with the control and use of Anima and Mana. Anima naturally enhances one’s abilities, including those that cannot be normally targeted using Vis.” He pointed at his nose. “You seem like a curious boy, Devol. Have you ever tried to increase your senses? Smell, taste, touch, anything like that?”

He nodded. “A few times, I used Vis on my tongue to increase the taste of a roast my mother made but all I accomplished was to bend the fork.” He frowned at the slightly embarrassing story. “I tried other things like increasing my hearing or smell to help at hide and seek but it never worked.”

Vaust nodded. “Using Mana to try to target such pinpoint areas isn’t an easy task, even for experienced Magi, but Anima surrounds the body, internally and externally, and makes this process easier.” He pointed toward the etching. “Focus on those marks. You can barely make them out due to the residual increase in abilities your Anima grants you. Now, increase your Anima and focus on your sight.”

Devol drew a breath, straightened, and looked directly at the symbols as he let his Mana pool in his eyes. In moments, the symbols became clearer like the ages of dust that had made the markings fade began to blow away. As they became more prominent, he could even see faint shimmers surrounding them. “There’s Mana on the symbols!” he cried in surprise.

“Indeed,” the mori confirmed, his arms folded over his chest as he watched him. “This is what is known as an anchor point.”

The boy remained focused on the sigils and the Mana that continued to flow through them. “What are they?”

“It is in the name,” his companion told him, stood in front of the rock, and held a hand out. “Since you told me as much, your familiarity with the other realms is rather limited. But I’m sure you’ve wondered at least once how one travels from one realm to another.” He balled his hand into a fist and placed it at the center of the point, and the symbols began to glow red. “There are a few ways to do it, but anchor points are the most prominent, at least in your realm.”

Devol watched in fascination as the triangle pointing upwards glowed brighter than the others. A faint image appeared above the mori and displayed what appeared to be a city floating above orange clouds. The man began to rotate his fist to the right and the bright glow moved to the right dot between the triangles. The image changed to an ornate-looking house that stood on a hill of purple grass. “They can also be used to travel to individual dimensions—rifts as some call them—that are created by Magi for their personal use, although most are protected by wards that can only be accessed by them or with their permission.”

Vaust continued to turn his fist and the glow moved to the right triangle. This time, a lone tower appeared, backdropped by a sky of black and dark purple and surrounded by what appeared to be a forest of blackened trees with white lights or leaves covering them. “This leads to my home realm, Avadon.” The mori chuckled and continued to move his fist until it pointed to the single large dot at the bottom.

An image of a large castle appeared, seemingly on top of a mountain or other rocky area. It gleamed white with a large drawbridge drawn up, and fires burned on the tops of two large spires on either side. “And this is the domain of the Templars.”

“This is their hall?” Devol asked with a grin. He had made it. Thoughts raced through his mind. What he would say when he finally met one of the Templars and from there, what would he do? He had come to get help and training, but after that, could there be more?

“It is,” the older Magi stated and moved his fist away from the rock. The picture vanished as the symbols lost their red glow. “I hope you get to see it soon.”

“Wait. What?” the boy shouted and leaned closer to the symbols. “What happened?”

“I closed the gate. It should have been obvious,” Vaust said flatly and strode out of the rock formation.

“But why?” he asked as he followed. “I came here for the order.”

“I’m quite aware,” the mori acknowledged and registered the impatience in the boy, which reminded him how young he was. “Think about it like this. If you and I had not met, how long would it have taken until you noticed your error with the map?” He spun and stared at him. “Would you have been able to decipher the instructions on the side of the map that explained the

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