Dream Walk

Darkness pressed on Robert's mind, but Snow's healing magic glowed soft, easing it back. She knelt beside him, her steady hands working over his cuts and bruises. Pain dulled, and a faint tug pulled at his thoughts, like slipping into a dream he couldn't shake.

The temple formed around Robert, details coming into focus piece by piece. Cool air carried wildflowers and damp stone. He sat cross-legged on a smooth granite slab, one of many in a temple with open walls, carved into the mountainside. The view struck him. Albion sprawled endless—green forests, bright rivers, rolling hills. Villages were scattered across it, flickering like distant campfires, and far off, a Celtic city's spires caught hidden light.

The temple hummed with power. Carvings of knots and symbols pulsed on every surface, a beat he felt in his chest. Pillars propped a roof that let the breeze through. Benches, cushions, rune-scratched tables, and a fire pit with a steady gold flame tied nature to magic, close enough to touch.

Moira sat across from Robert, her presence vivid. Auburn hair fell in waves, catching light like flickering flames. Golden eyes held warmth and wit, framed by a soft smile. Her pale green dress flowed, tied with a silver-thread belt that shimmered. A crescent moon pendant with shifting gemstones hung at her neck.

"Robert," Moira said, her voice warm with a teasing edge, "you look like you've seen something incredible." He blinked, caught staring, and gave a small grin. "I'm pretty sure I'm sitting in it, Moira. This place is unreal," he said. She let out a soft laugh, her warm hand settling over his. It pulled him back to the here and now. "Welcome to my home," she said, waving at the land beyond. "This is Albion as it was, how it ought to be. You're seeing it through my memories."

Robert gazed at the horizon, taking it in. "It's beautiful," he said quietly. The thought stirred—power enough to protect it. He let it go and looked back at her.

"It is," Moira said, her eyes softening. "And you're part of it now, Robert. Albion's magic runs through you, same as it runs through this land. But you're only starting to get it." Her words held him, pride in her face tinged with worry. "That fight with the creature," she said, her smile fading a little as she shifted tone, "was a test, whether you knew it or not. You pushed past what I thought you could do."

He opened his mouth, but she raised a hand, stopping him gently. "Before you say anything, hear me out," she said. "You've earned a bigger step. Your control of the basic elements with earth, air, fire, and water has hit its limit. They've answered you so strongly they've blended into something new called Basic Elemental Mastery." Her gaze held steady, catching a flicker of ambition he tried to bury. The thought tempted him—more power might fix things.

Robert sat up, her words heavy. "Basic Elemental Mastery?" he asked, voice low. She nodded, her eyes bright with approval. "It ties the four elements together, letting you use them as one," she said. "Your spells will bend easier, hit harder. Mix one element with another, like a fireball pushed by storm winds or an earth shield washed clean by water. The possibilities are huge."

He paused, his expression caught between awe and hunger as the idea took root. Power like that could make him unstoppable. He swallowed, shaking it off. Moira leaned closer, her voice quiet but firm. "But bigger power needs tighter control," she said. "That's why we're here, so you don't lose who you are to the magic."

Robert nodded slow, excitement and caution mixing in his chest. "I get it," he said. "I want to learn, Moira. To do this right." She smiled wide, her hand resting on his chest where his Aetherium Core sat. "Good," she said. "Let's start."

Her hand lingered, eyes locked on his. "Robert, your Aetherium Core is something rare," she said. "It's not just a power bank but a bridge to Albion's magic. Bridges need care." He looked down, seeing its faint glow in his mind. "I tapped it to refill mana in that grub fight," he said. "If I hadn't, I'd be done." The memory bit, raw and sharp.

She nodded. "It kept you alive," she said. "It'll do it again if you need it. But its M-Power doesn't last forever, and using it comes with a price. Spending it to survive means you lose what it could do for your growth." Her words landed, and that pull stirred again—more power means more fights won. He clenched his fist, letting it pass.

He thought back, still feeling how the crystal had drained him. "How do I use it the right way?" he asked. Moira leaned back, hands in her lap. "The crystal holds M-Power you earn through fights, smart magic, and wins," she said. "You can burn it to stay alive, like you did, or build yourself up over time. It's about balance."

She waved a hand, and glowing glyphs lit the air, floating symbols shaped like carved runes. They showed spells, stamina, agility, strength, laced with glowing veins of power. "This is what you could be, Robert," she said. "Each glyph is a piece of you. With the crystal, you can pour M-Power into becoming the mage you want."

He reached out, fingers brushing the fire magic glyph. It flared hot against his skin. "So I can boost spells or get stronger?" he asked. "Right," she said, smiling. "Your elements grow with practice, but the crystal speeds it up, sharpening skills or unlocking new ones." Her voice softened. "Picture tougher stamina for long fights, speed that carries you through a fight, or mana for bigger spells. Pick carefully—once you use it, it's gone."

He glanced at the Light Magic glyph, barely touched before. "What about Light Magic?" he asked. Her eyes lit up. "Your healing spells jumped up a level in that fight," she said. "It came in strong, sharper than before. Light's about fixing things, truth, keeping safe. Put more in, and you could shape shields to block hits or beams to cut through shadow."

Her voice turned serious. "But Light's got a twin named Dark Magic," she said. "They balance each other. Light builds, Dark breaks. It's not bad, just risky. Use it knowing what it's for." He frowned, a cold knot twisted in his gut. "Breaking things, twisting them, when's that ever me?" he asked.

She touched his cheek, her hand warm. "Think of healers killing germs, burning out sickness to save folks," she said. "Dark Magic's a tool, and its right or wrong comes from you." Her words eased him, but the craving stirred again. Dark could crush anything in his way. He turned it aside, harder than he wanted to admit. "I'll think about it," he said. "For now, I'll stick with what I know." She smiled, bright and proud. "Smart choice, my vessel," she said. "Let's get to it."

The glyphs lined up in rows. "Pick where to put your M-Power," she said. "Your fights have filled the crystal up. Make yourself stronger since Albion needs you at your best." She leaned forward, eyes warm. "You've shown what you're made of, Robert," she said. "Let me give you something for the road." The breeze died down as her palm glowed bright. She touched his forehead, and a jolt shot through him, warm from head to toe.

"Your mana's doubled," she said, "flowing as strong as it's deep. This Blessing of Mana Mastery sets you up for what's coming." He felt it, the air charged, responsive. More mana meant more he could do. He shook his head, steadying himself. "Moira, thank you," he said, meaning it. "This changes everything."

She tilted her head, watching him close. "Something's on your mind," she said. He nodded, running a hand through his hair. "Yeah," he said. "After getting the elements down and touching Light, I want to change how my magic works." "Change it?" she asked, a spark of curiosity in her voice.

He paced the temple's stone floor. "I want every mage to make magic their own," he said. "For me, Light's the base, the start of every spell." "Why Light?" she asked. "It feels right," he said, turning to her. "Light's my core for fixing, shielding, boosting. But I want it bendy, mixed with elements for whatever I need. Like Light and Fire could be a fireball or a warm heal, depending on what I'm aiming for."

Her smile grew. "You're turning magic into your own voice," she said. "That's rare." He kept going, fired up. "Light and Water for stronger healing," he said. "Light and Earth for a shield that won't budge. Light and Air for speed, like Minor Haste. What I want shapes it for attack or fix, and it's all there to use."

She clapped soft, her eyes shining with respect. "Bold, but it fits you," she said. "What about Dark Magic?" He paused. "Dark balances Light," he said. "Light heals, Dark breaks. It's not evil since doctors kill germs and stop disease. Dark could hit enemies, hide me to keep safe, stop harm cold."

Her voice went quiet. "A tricky road, but it could be huge," she said. "Not many try that balance." "It feels like me," he said, firm. "Light for healing and shields, Dark for fighting and breaking. Just a tool, shaped by what I mean to do."

She leaned back, her hair catching the breeze, pride clear in her face. "You keep surprising me, Robert," she said. "It's possible, even brilliant. But it takes focus, grit, imagination." He nodded, set on it. "I'm ready," he said. "I want this power to be mine."

She held out her hand, a golden spark floating there. "Hold on, this'll feel wild," she said. The light of Albion poured in as she pointed to his Aetherium Core, its beat steady. "It's time," she said soft. "Use its power smart. Balance is everything, in magic and you."

He nodded, the grub fight still raw—magic had saved him, but his body lagged. He set his hand on the crystal, its warmth sinking in. "Let's make this right," he said. "Focus on what you need," she said, her voice steady but kind. "Pull the energy and fix what's weak."

He shut his eyes, grounding himself. The crystal's power buzzed, like pouring cold water on a parched throat. He pushed it into his body for Strength, Dexterity, and Constitution, feeling the fight's aches, stumbles, burnout. His arms grew solid, ready to swing. His hands steadied, quick now. He could last longer, no doubt.

She watched, a proud glint in her eyes. "Good," she said. "Now your mind and spirit." He turned to Intelligence, Wisdom, and Charisma, letting lessons, quick thoughts, and heart flow in. His mind sharpened, answers coming fast. He could talk smoother in tight spots. He opened his eyes and flexed his hands. He felt ready.

She smiled. "That's what balance looks like," she said. "How's it feel?" "Like I could take on anything," he said, grinning. "But more, like I'm all here." "That's magic's true trick," she said quiet. "It ties you together, inside and out."

He glanced at the crystal, its beat fainter. "There's still power left," he said. She nodded, her face serious. "More fights are coming," she said. "Rest now. Let this sink in." He leaned against the temple wall, Albion's hills rolling out ahead. The wind tugged his hair, but his mind held the power inside, solid and his.

He leaned back with a half-grin, speaking as if to folks not yet born. "Alright, let's break this down for the number lovers, just in case some historian's taking notes." A memory jolted him. "You're seeing my past," he said, "like that kid saw the Warlock's. Right now, I'm talking to myself, knowing students of history might catch this one day. Don't worry since I'm not grabbing your soul like the Warlock tried. You're good."

He chuckled, a bit sheepish. "If numbers bore you, tune out," he said. "For the curious, Strength, Dexterity, Constitution, Wisdom, and Charisma are all 18. Fortune's still 30, waiting for a nudge to climb." He took a deep breath. "Before, I had 270 HP, 270 Stamina, and 540 Mana," he said. "Now, with the crystal's boost and Moira's gift, I've got 420 HP, 390 Stamina, and 1084 Mana. Not bad, right?"

He looked at Albion's hills. "Funny," he said. "People dodge math, but feeling these numbers in your bones? That's something else." He closed his eyes, hand brushing the crystal, tied to Albion's pulse. The thought crossed his mind; more power could make him untouchable. He let it go, steadying himself. "Spells, though…" he gave a half-smile. "That's where it gets real."

He stood straighter, eyeing his hands as a faint golden light danced between his fingers. "Now, I just think what needs doing, and the magic goes there," he said. "Light's my base, mixed with elements for whatever I'm after. I've tried a couple already." He held out a hand, and a tiny fire spark spun up, wrapped in a gold glow. "Light and Fire," he said, "warmth to heal or a blaze to hit, depending on what's needed."

He waved, and the spark melted into mist, water drops hanging in the air. "Light and Water," he said, "healing that cuts deeper, feels solid." The drops fell, pooling into a small, glowing earth barrier at his feet. "Light and Earth," he said, "a shield that holds fast." He breathed deep, letting the spell fade with a slow exhale. Moira's gaze lingered, knowing, but she stayed quiet. "This setup's wide open," he said. "Every spell, every move, shaped by what I'm trying to do for attack, defend, and fix. It's all there, waiting."

He stood and stretched, eyes caught by the horizon where Albion's sun spilled gold over everything. "It's a lot," he said, "but I can handle it. I have to." Moira stepped closer, her voice low. "It is well you guard human greed for power," she said. "The Warlock did not. And while powerful, it cost him his soul." He nodded, her words sinking in, cooling that craving inside. "I hear you," he said. "I'll keep it in check."

"More importantly, I need to wake up now," he said.