Will.

  Or, the Arcana of Will, Spirit, and Soul. Among the Three Great Arcana’s, this Arcana possess the broadest and most indefinable scope.

  It encompasses the myriad esoteric arts conceived across diverse cultures and races of different planets. Each creating its own approach to the mysteries of the Kosmos.

  Any form of magic unbound by rigid systems or codified structures finds its place within this Arcana. Even the discipline known as cultivation, first introduced by our Chinese counterparts, is a branch of this ever-shifting, ever growing, domain.

  This is a path of incredible fluidity and flexibility, unrestricted by the conventional hierarchies of power or the rigid structure of levels. Yet this very openness is a double edge sword, a trait that makes the path difficult to master.

  Progress demands not merely repetition or diligence but an intrinsic resonance between will, spirit, and soul. Many practitioners, no matter how perseverant, no matter how many hours toiled, simply fail to advance beyond mediocrity.

  The greatest limitation of this Arcana lies in the necessity of innate talent. In other words, talent is paramount.

  Hard work alone cannot guarantee success. Even the most gifted must apply themselves, yet their true advantage lies not in the hours they devote themselves in, but in their ability to comprehend the extraordinary. As previously noted, no amount of labor can compensate for the inability to grasp these subtleties. Without comprehension, effort is rendered meaningless, and failure is expected.

  In short, this Arcana, demands everything what an individual can give and more.

  At first glance, the sole advantage of this Arcana appears to be its boundless potential. Those rare few who reach even near its summit wield power sufficient to unmake worlds. But that notion is simply not the case.

  Following the Great Cataclysm and the subsequent fracturing of Order, the balance of power shifted towards this Arcana, for a reason.

  We chose the one governed not by luck nor external systems but by the measure of one’s own effort and essence, even though it is the most difficult path simply because this Arcana holds a strength the others two lacked.

  Some, like our Japanese brethren have carried this philosophy to its extreme, making strength and perseverance central to their very way of being.

  To tread this path, one must grasp its core principle: Phenomenon.

  The essence of this Arcana lies in the bending of Phenomenon itself. Belief, conceived in the mind and enacted by the soul, gives rise to power. Through the exertion of will, channeled by the spirit, and the resonance of the soul, Phenomenon may be bent—or even utterly destroyed.

  This is why instructors are indispensable. Every follower, at some point, requires a teacher capable of transmitting not merely techniques, but the very ability to comprehend. To put it differently, a practitioner needs someone to teach them a way of perceiving and understanding the world.

  Conversely, an incredibly power person who fail to even explain simple foundations or articulate the most intricate concepts inevitably produce students of poor caliber.

  Essentially garbage in the eyes of the Order.

  The vitalness of instruction underscores one of the Arcana’s hidden strengths: it magnifies potential.

  A great teacher does more than convey techniques or just comprehension. They impart insight, intuition, wisdom, way of thinking and the passion necessary to awaken a student’s latent talent. And with these teachings, come camaraderie, brotherhood and bonds that will live on into the next generation.

  Through this transmission, the Arcana perpetuates mastery across generations, amplifying the abilities of those who can grasp its subtleties, and passing that fire along to the next.

  Thus, greatest strength of this Arcana, lies not just in its capacity to cultivate minds capable of bending and reshaping reality itself, but to shape thought, form ideas, and exert influence over the world not through force, but through dialogue.

  A practitioner who has fully harmonized will, spirit, and soul are not just teachers, they are leaders that can guide beliefs, inspire actions, and subtly or overtly, reshaping societies, and even events.

  This is the ultimate expression of this Arcana: the power to affect not only reality but the perceptions and convictions of all, even those who do not follow it. Through this, the adept moves from mere manipulator of phenomena to a shaper of minds and of history itself.

  They become the guiding hands of this world by mere thought alone.

  -excerpt from, Magic: Our Lies, Our Secrets, Our Truths, Volume 4, by Ursula de Martine, Teacher, Historian, Mentor, and member of the Order.

  Editor’s Note: The following excerpt has been translated from the original manuscript dated 1075 CE.

  ========================================================================

  I feel like cracking a world apart. With my head.

  How did this happen?

  Ayo, J.C. help ya boy out real quick? I’ma need you to slide through and humble this fool.

  …No? Nothing?

  Figures.

  This person won’t stop talking. I have no idea what she’s saying anymore. My brain clocked out five minutes ago, leaving sight and smell as the only survivors. Thank the gods for this power, because if I didn’t have it, I would have gone through a very, very long, agonizing, excruciating don’t-know-how many-minutes long minutes.

  I think the first parts was something like this.

  “So, you’ve come here to talk about my daughter, haven’t you?” she said, eyes sparkling with the smug satisfaction of a queen who already knows the ending.

  “Actually,” I replied, confused. “I came because there was an event, and I was promised free food. And you’re the one who casually sat down at this table.”

  “You young men always find their way here eventually,” she continued, completely ignoring my comment.

  “They—do?” I sent an inquiring glance at Shizuku who vigorously shook her head, her face a new shade of crimson.

  “You’re his childhood friend, yes? Oh, don’t be shy! I’ve seen the way people look at her. She’s a remarkable young woman—though not top of the school but bright enough to be top 10 in class. She’s thoughtful, far too patient for her own good. She’s also a champion, a high achiever. She takes after me, of course. But I also taught her more than a few things. I’m her mother after all.”

  “Are you—praising her—or yourself?” I asked carefully, like someone poking a wild animal with a stick.

  “But you must understand,” she continued, “kindness alone doesn’t make her easy to win. She has standards. I’ve taught her to value sincerity above charm, depth above flattery.”

  “Don’t you mean, you, have standards?” I retorted.

  “If you wish to court her, you must show consistency. Flowers wilt, dear boy, but integrity does not. We also have rules and traditions we follow in my family.”

  “Ri—ght,”

  “I suppose you’ve already started, giving her that gorgeous scarf she wouldn’t stop talking about!”

  The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.

  “No, I do not talk about that!” Shizuku snapped angrily, both hands slamming on the table. Her face possibly bright enough to guide ships through fog.

  “I think there’s a misunderstanding here—” I tried.

  “Nonsense! You wouldn’t be here otherwise. Every suitor begins this way—hesitant, polite, uncertain. Of course, you have to lose weight first but that can be done slowly—”

  Honestly, I zoned out after that. Then minutes crawled by, before her mouth stopped moving and she went for a drink. I lifted the mental seal I’d placed on my brain then.

  “So then, Vi-kun,” she said after taking a sip of water. “Did you understand what I said?”

  “Hmm? Ah, no,” I replied as lightly and truthfully as I could. “I wasn’t listening.”

  As anyone who would receive an answer like that, after they were talking nonstop, she looked offended. Unfortunately, she looked far from discouraged, in fact, she looked more determined.

  “Luckily for you,” she said confidently, smiling like a teacher announcing a pop quiz, “I already made a summary.”

  I was about to ask when she found the time to do that, but that would likely encourage her to talk more, so I remained silent.

  “First, lose weight. Second, get a high-income job. Third, if you fail at the second, learn to cook,” she said, raising a finger with each demand. “And fourth—most important of all—you must defeat every single one of us in the Childrenguard Brigade.”

  The what now? So many questions.

  Childrenguard brigade—did she made that one up? When did she made that up? Then again, I am talking to a member of the house of crazy so I suppose I should—wait—this is confusing.

  I don’t know whether to lower or raise my expectations.

  “Uhm—Childrenguard Brigade,” I repeated slowly, scratching my neck and glancing between mother and daughter. “Doesn’t—exactly roll off the tongue.”

  “There is no such thing!” Shizuku growled slamming her fist on the table.

  “Yeah. Right. So, uh, who’s in this—‘brigade’—of yours?” I asked, half curious, half confused. “Not that I’m interested in joining your family or anything — just wondering who I’m supposed to not fight.”

  She looked mildly offended, though I’m still not sure which part of my sentence was she was offended by. Regardless, she straightened proudly and said, “Myself, my husband, and my mother and father. But be warned — we are not easy opponents.”

  Right.

  I’ve already beaten Kuuko baa-san. That was one of her conditions when she personally taught me. Even now, just looking at pictures of waterfalls is enough to give me panic attacks.

  ========================================================================

  I accelerated my thoughts—faster and faster—until time itself faltered, struggling to keep pace. My mind blazed beyond mortal limits, and in the space between heartbeats, the world receded into silence and shadow. I could still sense the air, the pulse and breath of existence around me, but to my perception, everything stood still—frozen mid-breath.

  If someone was connected to me, I would have sensed their auras immediately, however I had none, and that left me blind for a frame of reference.

  So, I shifted to mana sense, and the void erupted into a storm of color—light veins of blues, reds, greens, and yellows, interwoven like the pulse of the living Kosmos.

  Next, I overlaid soul sight and the sea of colors dissolved, leaving only the radiant, shimmering spheres, the souls of the people around me. Like miniature stars they stood out from the dark expanse.

  My brother’s essence burned a pale blue, with a core of molten gold and red. Shizuku’s was a bright azure, with threads of purple and gold coiling at its heart. Tsukiyo’s mirrored her daughter’s, but hers crackled with chaotic, lightning—dancing arcs that whispered of volatility, barely restrained.

  Oh, I know that lightning anywhere. But why is she happy when I am being rude to her? No never mind—best not to dwell on it.

  Instead, I turned my attention upward—to the vast, veritable, blazing sun that loomed above.

  To link minds is one thing: two voices brushing against each other, faint echoes reverberating within the skull. It will be subtle but it will be there.

  But to enter another’s mind—that is an entirely different matter. It is to walk inside a world not your own, molded by another’s will and soul. The minds of the members of the Order are shaped, guarded, weaponized. The strong forge fortresses of thought potent enough to crush and shatter; the cunning weave labyrinths of illusions to trap and deceive.

  And to step uninvited into the mind of a powerful being, much less that of a crownholder—especially one bound to an Emperor-class spirit of fire—is to tread the threshold of annihilation.

  The mind I entered was a realm of flame, of magma and ash, of such intense heat, that metals would flash-boil in an instant. A field of eternal conflagration stretched beneath a burning dark sky, one that was inscribed with runes, glyphs, and scriptures that spun and reformed faster than the mortal eye could track.

  And from above, an ancient presence judged all trespassers. At its zenith, a great Mitsudomoe blazed like a sun, its tri-fold spheres ever-present, ever-brilliant.

  It felt like the day after term exams—when your parents ask if you did well.

  In contrast, my own domain was one of tranquil night—a boundless sky veiled in countless starlight. At its zenith, another Mitsudomoe shone, vigilant, watchful, and protective, its calm pale light, gentler than moonlight, spilling and reflecting across the darkness of tranquil crystal waters.

  Our two domains met, contrasting like light and dark, then slowly, ever so slowly, intertwined softening until night embraced flame, and fire and starlight breathed as one. Then, without hesitation, I stepped onto the threshold and into her domain.

  There, suspended between that hell and inferno, sat Nana-baa-san eyes still closed, yet with a serene expression on her face. She sat in quiet serenity, one leg crossed over the other, the remaining foot suspended loosely. Untouched by the fire, her form outlined in soft azure-crimson light.

  I walked across the molten expanse towards her easily, the flames licking harmlessly at my projected self. The heat that washed over me, instead of burning, filled me with comfort—like stepping into a cherished memory, and welcoming me home.

  “What?” she asked softly when I stopped in front of her.

  “Ah, yeah—quick question,” I began lightly. “I, uh, met—Kuuko-baa’s daughter. There’s apparently this thing called the Childrenguard Brigade?”

  At the mention of that absurd name, one of her eyes snapped open, the ember inside it burning like a miniature star.

  “What in the hells is that?”

  “That’s why I’m here,” I admitted, genuinely perplexed. “I was hoping you’d know.”

  “Hold on a bit,” she said and concentrated.

  A few seconds later, I felt it—another presence, vast and undeniable. Another mind and power equal to Nana baa-san’s, pressed gently against the edges of the realm.

  In a split second, another domain, one of lightning and storms, of crashing waves and relentless thunder, manifested. Waves rose, as tall as mountains, and crashed down beneath a sky split by crackling lightning followed by a boundless roar. At its heart hung a third Mitsudomoe, each rotation pulsed and timed with the echoes of great drums.

  Across that tumultuous, turbulent firmament, coiled a dragon of gold and jade that danced freely, its form immense, its roar wild and unrestrained. Lightning arced across its scales in erratic patterns, even as its master strode forward, her grin wide.

  Fanfare much? I thought dryly.

  Both women smirked in response.

  In the realm of minds and soul, nothing is hidden, nothing remains unspoken. Even what we wear is reflected, though we can change it at will. But most people don’t bother too much, because all who enter another’s domain doesn’t do it while they’re in the nude. That would be just weird.

  Kuuko-baa-san swept in—fast as the lightning that crowned her domain—wrapped an arm around me, and pulled me down, nuzzling her face into my hair with affectionate glee.

  “So, what’s the problem?” she asked cheerfully once she finally released me.

  I breathed in and out. My domain responded, expanding outward until the starlit night consumed everything—the storms, the flames, even the echoes of their realms. The grand dragon and the ancient presence settled into slumber, content with only listening.

  The two matriarchs, utterly unbothered by the shift, took their seats across from me as if it were the most natural thing in the world. Their movements made small ripples across the otherwise clear surface.

  Then I began to explain. I would say that it barely took a few minutes, but inside this dimension of mind and soul, time is non-existent. And when I finished, Kuuko-baa-san—

  “HAHAHAHA!”

  Was on the metaphorical ground, bawling her ass off.

  “It’s not funny,” I grumbled, crossing my arms.

  “To you, perhaps,” Nana-baa said evenly. “To us, however, it is exceedingly amusing.”

  “Humph. Then how do I get her to stop?” I asked sullenly.

  “Oh, you don’t,” Kuuko-baa-san replied at last, having regained her composure.

  I blinked. “What?”

  “If you’re asking why,” she continued, her voice bright and full of mischief, “it’s because this is the first time someone has come even close to proclaiming a ‘romantic’ relationship or any form of relationship other than a friend, with my little droplet.”

  “That’s—” I paused and thought for a moment.

  “—Sad,” I finished flatly.

  The old storm goddess nodded, her grin softening into something caught between sadness and mirth.

  “Changing topics,” Kuuko baa-san said, her tone shifting from warm to formal. “I’m glad that both of you are there. I can at least somehow rest easy, should anything happen, I can rely on you both.”

  “Do not worry, they’ll be safe with us,” Nana baa-san replied firmly before pointing at me. “I had him inspect the two before we spoke last night.”

  “Really?” Kuuko-baa-san arched a brow, glancing between the two of us. “And how did that go?”

  “Both of my uncles are clean. I simply talked with them, not like this, just normally,” I answered, choosing my words carefully. “It’s true they were the ones who orchestrated this event, but for what purpose—that remains—uncertain.”

  Kuuko-baa-san fell silent, deep in thought. When she finally spoke, her voice carried quiet conviction.

  “Then, at least, they are not our enemies,” Kuuko-baa-san said calmly, her voice steady as iron. She glanced towards Nana-baa-san, who answered her with a silent nod. Then her gaze returned to me.

  “However, what are your thoughts on why they orchestrated it?”

  I took a deep breath.

  “I believe they arranged this event to protect us, primarily my family, but it also ties to the Japanese side. On my end, the participants were chosen from across the entire country. The problem is on your end. It’s—too specific.”

  “True,” Kuuko baa-san murmured in agreement.

  “The common denominator I could see,” I continued, “is Reika.”

  At that name, Nana baa-san’s calm expression shattered into fury. The very fabric of my domain dissolved, starlight collapsing as the world was swallowed by her inferno. Above us, the Karura stirred—one burning eye opening, its gaze descending like judgment itself.

  “I think they caught something, but, have no proof of it,” I went on casually. “Considering, what happened last time, they wouldn’t risk spreading panic. They also couldn’t risk alerting our enemies. I believe, that is why they invited me and you, Nana baa-san, in case things go sideways.”

  The fires blazed higher, the air thick with heat and wrath, but I continued, because it was not directed at me.

  “So, they chose instead to control what they could: the situation, the location, the flow of information.”