At the summit of the mountains.
An easy place to observe the stars.
An Ancient Aristocratic Family had once maintained a cultivation sanctuary here.
But as time passed, the family declined and its descendants dwindled, until it was finally swept away in a great calamity.
No one had lived here for nearly two hundred years.
But Dilia liked it here.
She settled herself in, laying out various Divinity-side Spellcraft, cleaning the entire abandoned building, setting warning spells, and installing defensive Divinity artifacts.
Late that night.
The initial work was complete.
She could rest now.
Dilia stood beneath the eaves, gazing up at the star-filled sky for a while, and began looking forward to each day to come.
"Time to sleep..."
She spoke softly.
With a wave of her hand.
Various restrictions quietly activated, making the entire building private and impossible to spy on.
Returning to her room, Dilia lay on the large, soft bed and closed her eyes, soon on the verge of falling asleep.
One breath.
Two breaths.
Three breaths.
She slowly raised her hands, interlacing her ten fingers in a continuous series of motions as she began casting a spell.
It had little power and consumed hardly any Mental Power, so the shackles would not impede its casting.
-Recording Art.
This was her habit.
When she was very young, the other angels had told her to learn to record each day of her life.
Recording was sacred, a part of the commandments. Like a mirror, it allowed you to reexamine everything that had happened yesterday when you woke tomorrow.
Observation, repentance, asceticism, prayer.
These were the rituals of Divinity cultivation.
Her fingers slowly stilled.
The spell gradually reached completion.
It was a small orb emitting holy white light, floating above the large bed, recording all the important events