The campfire crackled, throwing trembling shadows across the damp tree trunks. Tharion was taking care of Thalen, who remained trapped in a strange sleep. His hands moved almost automatically, but his mind was somewhere else, obsessed with one question: why had Thalen’s eyes changed like that? It wasn’t natural… magic, or something else… something that was transforming him.

  A shiver ran down Tharion’s spine. The forest, dense and silent, felt like it was holding its breath. Beyond the circle of light, a shape moved in the darkness — the monster. But at that exact moment, it froze, as if paralyzed by the mystery radiating from Thalen. Was it fear… or something deeper?

  Thalen took a deep breath. His trembling wings brushed the leaves beneath him. Tharion’s magic began to ease his pain, like warm air over a burning wound. His hands moved over Thalen’s face, and under a faint surge of magic, his eyelids slowly opened.

  “— His eyes… brown again,” Tharion murmured, his voice low, almost unbelieving.

  He stayed frozen for a moment, unable to look away. There was something there he didn’t understand. The forest around them seemed to breathe with them — silent, almost welcoming. The damp air carried the smell of fresh earth and soaked leaves, and the spongy ground softened every movement.

  “— Thalen… can you stand up?” Tharion whispered, his voice firm but gentle.

  Thalen blinked and slowly sat up, Tharion supporting him. His wings stretched out, revealing the deep brown shine of his feathers.

  “— What happened while I was unconscious?” he asked, still dizzy. “I know I did something… with the earth… but what exactly?”

  Tharion exhaled softly and shook his head.

  “— Before you passed out, you awakened your magic. Normally, that only happens when someone comes close to death… or in extreme circumstances. And you… you used it to save yourself.”

  Tharion paused, weighing every word.

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  “— I can’t tell you exactly what your magic does… it’s complicated. But I saw the environment react to you. The rocks, the ground… everything moved as if the place was obeying your thoughts. Every gesture looked calculated, precise. I don’t know if you could do the same with water, fire, or air… but what you did was… incredible.”

  Thalen frowned, trying to understand. If I understand correctly… magic is linked to the soul… His mind raced: Maybe my soul is connected to architecture… not just buildings, but shapes, lines, balance… like I can hear the whisper of walls and recreate their logic.

  Inside his head, instinct growled, sarcastic:

  “— Oh, so now you’re asking for help… after getting yourself wrecked.”

  “— Ugh… thanks for the advice…” Thalen muttered with a bitter laugh.

  “— Next time, I’m letting you die,” the instinct added, dry and mysterious. “For once, you might be right… but I can tell we’re missing something.”

  The fire cast orange light across the wet ground, cutting the forest into unsettling shapes. The wind barely touched the leaves. The crackling flames and the whispering woods seemed to be the only witnesses to this fragile moment.

  Tharion continued, his voice calm but firm:

  “— Magic, Thalen… there are two forms. The first is soul magic: Soularys. It comes from your essence, from what you truly are deep inside. It reflects your strength and your fears, your desires and your wounds. It’s unique.”

  Thalen nodded, absorbing every word.

  “— So my magic depends on me…”

  “— Exactly. The more focused and determined your soul is, the more stable your magic becomes. But if your mind wavers, it can become dangerous for you. It can protect, heal, attack… or influence the environment.”

  Thalen smirked, a little ironic in his head:

  “— Well… I must be so strong I used Soularys without even noticing.”

  The instinct laughed, mocking:

  “— So strong you don’t even know how to control it.”

  Thalen shrugged, secretly pleased anyway:

  “— Thanks… I guess?”

  “— And the other type?” Thalen asked.

  “— External magic,” Tharion said. “It draws energy from the world: elements, runes, artifacts… spectacular, but demanding. Every spell has its rules. One mistake, and the effect can turn against you. Unlike Soularys, you can reach a high level even if your soul isn’t exceptional. But it stays logical. Technical.”

  Thalen, suddenly excited: “Thank you, Tharion… honestly, you just made me want to learn magic.”

  Tharion replied, slightly embarrassed: “No problem… I should’ve told you sooner.”

  Thalen thought to himself: I love magic… especially the way he explained it. It’s almost like architecture, or science.

  Exhausted, Thalen fell asleep almost immediately, lulled by the crackling fire. Tharion kept watch over him in silence, his eyes fixed on his sleeping friend. The wind and the forest seemed to respect the quiet of that fragile moment.