[The Secret of Change]

"Knock, knock, knock!"

The three-short, two-long pattern echoed through the empty corridor. Horn waited patiently in the chilly draft, and after confirming that no unfamiliar footsteps were approaching from inside, he took a deep breath, pressed his finger against the keyhole, and called out from the depths of his consciousness.

[--Fire]

The flames came as promised.

As always.

"Click."

The lock sprang open with a crisp snap. With the Six Letters of Instruction tucked at his waist, Horn first pulled the door open a crack and scanned the room. Only then did he slowly step into the little apartment he hadn't seen in so long.

"The Prevention and Suppression Bureau did a thorough job cleaning up the place."

Thinking of the upstairs door, now fully repaired, Horn sighed. He had no idea what the landlord thought about losing a tenant and gaining a haunted house, but such rental concerns were a distant thing for someone who'd been allowed to stay at the Alchemy Academy.

Ah, this is Birmingham. If I don't rent it, plenty of people will. I doubt tenants in the Lower District would care about a little thing like this.

Life always found a way.

Feeling at ease, Horn brushed the thin layer of dust from the desk, flicked on the incandescent light, and took a deep breath amid its unsteady buzzing. By its faintly flickering glow, he opened the Six Letters of Instruction and gazed at the introduction on the title page.

The remaining silver-white candle on the [Secret Atmosphere] card began to burn. An inspiration suddenly struck, and Horn understood.

[Studying the Formless Arts is enough to exhaust ten lifetimes.]

Even in neat, orderly ink, the emotion carried by those words was still chilling. The next moment, thick black phantom flames climbed over the page, staining line after line of text as he read. They grew more and more vigorous as Horn delved deeper into the book.

[Fire consumes knowledge... but fire also gives light. Understanding is rooted in this paradox.]

[--Gaze into the light!]

On the screen, the [Six Letters of Instruction] card was placed in the [Study] slot. The progress bar slowly advanced as his spirit burned.

--Time passed.

Lines of text appeared one after another. Under the flames' searing heat, their tangled, distorted strokes gradually settled into clear characters. Knowledge with real power was smelted out like gold from ore, and cast into the outline of another card.

[Corselli's tone was urgent--as though he believed he had little time left.]

[If you wish to rise higher, change is inevitable. Danger, too, is never far behind. Casting aside your mortal nature is an impulse, perhaps even a pleasure. But what I have always wondered is...]

[I have never visited Broceliande, yet I have always felt afraid: afraid of the endless night in those cedar woods, afraid of a chance encounter with the Blood-Red Cup, and afraid of the sound of moths beating their wings...]

["Even the sun can be split apart, though it requires the Sun-Forging Furnace to do it."]

"Click."

Only when he closed the book's final page did Horn emerge from the intense focus of something like a "flow state" and feel his body again... along with a powerful wave of weakness.

His spirit, which had been steady before, had plunged by nearly two-thirds as he read. The heat surging through his blood had also begun to subside. As a Blood Scorcher, Horn found himself shivering in the cool breeze for the first time in ages.

"...Is this book really that mentally taxing?"

He closed the window, tugged at his collar, and couldn't be bothered to write any reading notes. Horn shut his eyes, let his consciousness sink to the desktop, and got right to the point.

Let's see!

The Six Letters of Instruction, whose card face had been a jumble of manuscript pages, had vanished. In their place were two purer, orange-red cards.

One depicted a marble staircase ascending upward, with brass railings whose polished, spherical knobs showed how familiar they were with the touch of a hand.

[Memory: Foresight]

[Foresight: Some things can be understood before they happen.]

[Aspect--Memory: Perhaps what is remembered is what is understood. [Certain memories will strengthen your state of mind, helping you complete recipes or master skills.]]

[Aspect--Ember 2: ALITUR PROPRIIS IGNIS CINERIBUS (Fire is nourished by its own ashes)]

[Aspect--Candle 1: Candlelight dispels darkness, candlelight guides the way, candlelight... casts shadows?]

Like the series of temporary influence cards he'd obtained before, the [Foresight] card was slowly fading with time. But at least in the short term, Horn didn't have to worry about running out of time to use it.

Besides, [Foresight] was at most a byproduct. His real gain was an indisputably genuine piece of occult knowledge.

In other words, Secret Lore!

The still-warm words rose before him, explaining the nature of this Secret Lore.

[Secret Lore: Secret of Change]

[Secret of Change: On the five continents, blacksmiths whisper the same words to steel. Murderers are also known to whisper those words. Apprentices do the same, of course. Reciting them in the proper language during a ritual can trigger ruthless change.]

[Aspect--Secret Lore: Knowledge of the Formless Secret Arts. I can use it to construct spells, perform rituals, open a path to the Dream Realm, or seek out more... [Secret Lore can be leveled up by studying it alongside compatible Secret Lore.]]

[Aspect--Ember: ALITUR PROPRIIS IGNIS CINERIBUS (Fire is nourished by its own ashes)]

[Aspect--Can Be Reversed: It has the potential to transform into another form of existence.]

[Aspect--Knowledge Required: This is a puzzle with a missing piece. Perhaps I'll find the missing piece in some remote corner of the sea of knowledge.]

Horn pressed his lips together to keep from laughing. Struck by the absurdity of it all, he could barely keep his expression in check.

Julian Corselli had devoted a great deal of the book to warning his apprentice away from the dangerous and impractical Formless Secret Arts. He'd even cited two great beings whose names he dared not speak. His concern had been unmistakable.

Yet his student, whether deliberately or through a complete misunderstanding of his mentor's meaning, had revised and reorganized this despairing "testament" until it was unrecognizable. He'd even led Horn to discover Secret Lore of the Aspect of Ember, concerning destruction and transformation.

Perhaps Horn had misunderstood it. But looking at the faintly glowing [Foresight] on the desktop, he still had a feeling he'd guessed right.

How strange.

Feeling the knowledge newly lodged in his mind, Horn looked out at the nearly black night, rubbed his aching temples, and breathed out in satisfaction.

--"Next, your task is to finish this book, understand its mysteries, and organize them into a piece of [Secret Lore]."

"That should do it, right? It's so late. I'm exhausted. Time for bed."

Dragging his listless steps, Horn had no intention of keeping the room tidy. After managing to wash up, he climbed into the bed he hadn't slept in for so long, its familiarity already fading.

"Bzzzt."

The old incandescent light flickered, brightening for a moment before dimming. Exhausted as he hadn't been since his promotion, Horn drifted off to sleep.

He fell fast asleep.

On the desktop, a gray card quietly slipped into the [Dream Entry] action slot. Dark patterns spread across it, writhing like a living thing as they formed a line of barely legible text.

[Sleep usually lets the body rest and the mind grow calm; however, there are always exceptions--yes, always exceptions.]