I wandered into the Ponpti Families' library and started idly walking among the shelves, hoping a title would jump out at me. It was the same thing that I have been doing for the last couple of days. I know there is only so much time in the day. People often complain about never having enough, a gripe that I myself have voiced on an occasion or two.

Making it somewhat ironic that I now find myself in a situation where I have all the time in the world… Perhaps that isn't exactly right. I spend my mornings with the scouts, sparring and maintaining my fitness for the inevitable looming disasters. And I have a meeting with Kanieta, where she probs me and I recharge the depleted amulets.

It's just those other fourteen hours of the waking day that I find myself walking around searching for anything to spark my interest. Okay, it wasn't that bad. Honestly, walking around the estate, soaking in the culture, and the elaborate dinners with the senator, his wife, and two sons were much more enjoyable than being trapped on the deck of the Splash.

I was just at the end of a month of being useless and not steadily progressing in my casting techniques. It was the longest period in my life since my father first returned from his last tour, where White's father was killed, that I haven't been actively training, on a mission, or recovering. I just wasn't used to not constantly doing something.

Rounding a shelf, hefting a book titled "The Political Folly Leading to the Yellow Bay Massacre," I found myself in a small lounge area, where Kanieta was seated on a bench nestled next to a wide window, sipping on some tea while flipping through a book. Her tails were splayed out to her sides and back.

Ignoring how the morning light caressed her form and ignited her red hair, I walked up and slid into the seats facing the small table positioned before her. Fingering my way through the tray of snacks, I finally grabbed a hard cookie and popped it into my mouth. I savored the sweet flavor of vanilla and only looked up at the woman glaring at me after I finished chewing and swallowed.

"You know, some of my people might consider it rude to walk up and take their food. A challenge to the death, even." Kathren said, glaring at me while scooting the tray of cookies away from me.

"Really?" I asked, lifting my hand from under the table, holding another cookie that I bit into, smirking at the Foxkin. "Good thing I never wanted to get close to Franklin while he was eating. But you aren't such a person, right?"

Head snapping down, Kanieta gaped at the empty tray as the last cookie slowly slid off its edge to join the line marching over the far side of the table from me. Hands jerking down, she managed to grab two, but the rest disappeared from sight. By the time her head snapped up to unleash an even darker glare at me, I was turned to the side, my head hovering over a little pyramid of neatly stacked cookies resting on my casting.

Releasing a huff of annoyance, Kanieta turned back to her book, tossing her two remaining snacks into her mouth a little too forcefully and chomping down on them. Snickering to myself, I claimed my prize before depositing the rest of the cookies back where they belonged. Her posture relaxing, the woman took a sip of her tea, but not before she snatched another to place on the saucer next to her cup.

"What are you reading?" I asked, as her attention shifted back to her book.

"Hmm… I guess a diary of an old Ponpti patriarch describes it better than anything else. I have been spending most of my free time here, soaking up the history of your people, and I came across it in my search. It has proven to be… enlightening." At the last part, she looked over the book's edge, her eyes scrutinizing me like she was looking into my soul. It was decidedly unsettling, so I broke eye contact, glancing past her, letting the conversation die.

"Is there a particular reason that you came to bother me?" Kanieta asked after a couple of minutes of her flipping pages as I silently stared out into the garden.

"Do I need one?" I instinctively snapped back, causing her body to go rigid, with only her ears frantically twitching and turning. Feeling like the air between us was starting to shift in a way I wasn't sure I was comfortable with, I hastily continued, "But actually, I did come over because something has been bothering me."

After a moment, I saw her body relax, and she raised an eyebrow, indicating that I should continue. However, her attitude toward me seemed colder than a moment before. "Umm, well, I have been thinking about your magic…" I paused, expecting her to say something, but when she didn't, I continued hesitantly, "Ehem… So, uhh, why does the spell structure matter?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well, you make these complicated geometric diagrams filled with symbols and materials to cast specific spells. We know that psy and mana are basically the same, so why can't you know…" I waved my arm in the air half-heartedly, gesturing randomly as I said, "Will it to happen?" After all, knights didn't have to create complicated diagrams to throw around fireballs.

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I flinched when she released a long-suffering sigh, knowing instantly that she was irritated with me. What I just heard was the type of expression I usually associated with Franklin, either after or right before he did something idiotic, and Kanieta would have to deal with the consequences… It wasn't nearly as amusing being on the receiving end of the exasperation.

"That is a hotly debated question among mages. The short answer is yes, we need the symbols, lines, and items to cast spells. We can't just wave our hands to make stuff happen." Kanieta mimicked how I waved my hand, emphasizing her point.

"Can you be a little more specific?" I prodded, genuinely interested in the topic.

The woman sighed again, as if what I was asking made her the most put-upon person in the world. However, she did set her book down and turn to face me. "Describe a rock," Kathren ordered, abruptly redirecting our conversation.

"Umm, it's rough?" When I paused, she motioned for me to continue, "It's hard, heavy, jagged."

"Yes, a rock can be all those things, and a few more words can describe it. Ask anyone what a rock is, and they will probably throw out something that you just mentioned, but they won't say it is, let's say, wet. While we all perceive the world slightly differently, there are core concepts and ideals that we can all say the world functions by. Kin magic relies entirely on such collective principles." Kaneita held out her hand, and the shadows of the room writhed, multiplying and collecting around her hand to create a foxkin waving their hands to rip chunks of the shadow ground and throw them around. Then other figures appeared, supposedly wielding the other elements, though it all looked the same without any color… not that I was going to say it.

"In the distant past, our mages were little different from your knights, though they lacked the physical capabilities. Over time, mages started working together and created standards by which they described the process of casting their spells. The styles and systems that made the most sense took root, and eventually, people began to notice that their spells were working more effectively when they followed them. Not only that, but formulas that aren't created correctly by a mage are nudged by the world's support to better reflect the standard. But that wasn't the only thing that happened. The raw casters, as we call them, those that wielded elements, found their gifts lessening until they became all but unable to cast without following the spell structures."

My eyes narrowed as I guessed in disbelief, "So the world took notice?"

"Yes. Or so we believe that is what happened, as only a few tattered documents remain from that time. What is known is that as we create and use diagrams representing the flow of mana, runes representing aspects of the physical world, and objects to convey symbolic meaning, our spells become stronger, more condensed, and increasingly flexible. And as a side note, the older the mage, the stronger their spells are. It has been tested as best as two people can be, but when casting the same spell with the same amount of mana, the older one has a more powerful result."

"Do you know why?" I asked. By this point, she had set her book down and seemed to be enjoying explaining the topic. It was, after all, a discussion on her favorite subject.

"My belief is intent. The world… or whatever gives us our powers, has a memory. It helps us cast our spells, empowers them, and in doing so, it briefly interacts with our intent, learning from us. As we craft our spells, we start to believe it will work better and be more efficient if we arrange them in specific logical ways. The better the spells work, the more we believe, and reality slightly shifts to accommodate the belief. It's a cycle that reinforces itself."

"I assume that is your theory," I stated, smiling as I earned a scowl. "So what do most people believe?"

She scoffed and waved a dismissive hand, but she still answered, "They think the world has some inherent properties and fundamental rules in the manipulation of its energy. It is basically the reverse of my superior theory. They think every time we cast a spell, the world tries to impart the perfect spellform to us, guiding our development."

"Do you have any logic behind your idea, or is it because of a gut feeling?"

"Two that I believe you will appreciate." Holding up her right index finger, she began speaking, "If there were some universal laws we are slowly deciphering, then any Kin who embraces the world and starts to dissolve their personality to be one with it, should have some understanding of those rules. But neither the Enlightened we save from the Lost, nor those who have delved into deep meditation to connect with the world, have provided any kind of deep, unheard-of principles. They do have an instinctive understanding of spells, but it is at most a slight twist of what we have already discovered, something that many were already hypothesizing."

I nodded at the point, as while it wasn't guaranteed to be true, it was unlikely the logic didn't track. It was just that Kanieta didn't have a way to prove or disprove her speculation. Then she held up her second finger, "This one is less reliable as I lack an in-depth study of an old elven city, but they do not appear to use anything close to our magic in their great achievements." Frowning with annoyance, she waved her hand dismissively in the air, "Everything they seemed to be capable of was done like you Olimpians without a care in the world or moment of preparation. If there were some underlying principles to reality, I would think they would have discovered and used them."

I wanted to object that we had to train for years to develop our skills, but I knew what she meant. In my recent travels with Kanieta, I had learned exactly how long she took crafting all of her devices to cast her spells. Once an Olimpian learned how to do something with psy, they needed nothing more than psy and the occasional puddle or flame if they were a knight.

"I would have to a—

"Excuse me, Lady Kaneita… And Scout Green," Said Kanieta's Olimpian maid as she bowed near the book shelves, "the Senator has just returned, and requests that you both dress in your formal clothing, as he received permission to bring you before the Senate later this evening."

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