The sun slowly disappearing over the horizon, Spes had a warm feeling in his chest, finishing reminiscing over the past. He set away the blue ring and now focused his attention on the black spatial ring.
Just like Vota taught him, he closed his eyes and directed his spiritual sense towards the ring, revealing its content clearly to him. Inside were lots of alchemy ingredients, tomes, magic books, and manuals.
Since it wasn't the first time he had laid eyes upon the items within the ring, nothing was too surprising to him. He quickly skimmed through everything, as each second examining the spatial ring exerted his spiritual sense.
"Found you!" Spes exclaimed internally, upon recognizing the items sitting at the corner of the ring. He had purposefully laid the items there the first time he had examined the ring. These were the only items he knew were within his expertise as of now.
With a small thought from Spes, these items would materialize on top of his griffin. The entire process was no easy task on his part. He smiled wryly as he ended up in the same situation as last time, his head slightly hurting him. Despite that, the idea of making something appear out of nowhere still made the young man's eyes brighten in fascination.
He picked up the first item in front of him, it being a large tome. It had thick pages slightly yellowed from old age and was entirely covered by a grey-colored leather, with strange magical inscribing engraved on it.
Spes unfastened the leather strap that kept the tome from opening and, with eyes full of anticipation, slowly turned to the tome's first page. The title would immediately glare grandly at his face, giving him a glimpse of what awaited him. It was no other than: The Tome of the Magician.
Just as what the Archmage Vis told Spes as he wished him goodbye, inside the ring had all he needed to become a fully fledged official mage. And that one book he just opened represented about more than half of what the Archmage mentioned.
Turning the next page, a single line of words was all that was in the middle of the dried-out page. Words Spes already knew too well, the voice of his old master resurfacing in his mind, as if leading the phrase out calmly:
"The mage seeks not power, but knowledge. Power is merely the means to reach it."
Spes chuckled, as memories of his master would flash by. The old man would sneer, passing by the fat mages who were garbed lavishly. He would whisper angrily at the young Spes how these mages strayed far from the Mage's Truth. They instead chose power as the endgame.
His master did not speak out of jealousy, as Spes truly knew that the old man was fueled only by the passion for knowledge. It was to the point that he was so reputed that even despite being a mere commoner, the old mage could land his feet within the Royal Capital itself.
"The mage seeks not power, but knowledge. Power is merely the means to reach it." Spes whispered the words again with a frown on his face.
"Power... H-have I become like them?"
That simple phrase would, out of nowhere, make the young man question himself. Almost his entire life, his master had indirectly taught him to favor knowledge over power. And just recently, he went on a zealous spree of doing whatever it took to make himself strong. Spes's gut felt worse, as he knew that he did not do all that for the sake of the pursuit of knowledge.
So he closed the tome, staring at it intently, his hands nervously tapping the unlocked leather strap. That nervous hand would close into a fist, as he grunted and finally decided to lock the tome, putting it back in the black spatial ring, along with everything else he brought out.
It wasn't that he didn't want to go through the tome—on the contrary, the urge to continue turning the pages and acquire its magic knowledge was way too irresistible to him.
Unfortunately for him, upon reading that one phrase, teachings that were shrouded by the past sequence of events would finally resurface. Teachings that materialized in his head as an old man, sneering at him for all those power-seeking quests of his, just like he did with those fat mages.
"It's already getting dark anyways..."
Was Spes putting the blame on the ever-so-innocent dark sky that slowly took over the horizons, so that he could re-open the tome again when he felt clear of conscience? Or was it just an attempt at reconciling himself, so that he could escape the chaos that would invade his mind were he to not let go of his guilty thoughts?
He did not know. Maybe the latter, as he just wished to get over whatever was troubling him at once—hence, the pushing away of the magic tome.
The young man sighed deeply, going from enjoying the sunset to lamenting under the dark sky.
"Weak little Spes... No matter what you do, you'll always come back to where you started." He chuckled bitterly, making fun of himself.
He thought of the Necronomicon, how it could've made him truly special. Yet, he would let go of it, going back to the usual weak Spes again. And the same was with the magic tome from earlier. Letting go of it—and back to that Spes again.
"What am I doing here?" Spes slumped on his back, pulling anxiously at his hair as despite trying to clear his mind, what he feared the most caught up to him: himself.
That chaos would slowly invade him as questions upon questions passed constantly through his mind, itching him to the point of madness.
"WHAT AM I DOING HERE?!" Spes whispered loudly, realizing he truly did not know what he was doing there. He knew he was on a quest but... why was he there?
"You're to retrieve the artifacts to save the Kingdom idiot." A voice very similar to his, but slightly distorted spoke in his head.
"And what makes you think I wanna do that..."
"You've always wanted to be a hero, did you not!? Isn't this the right opportunity for you?! You have the Seeing Wound! They can't find the artifacts without you!"
"Opportunity to be a hero?! I'm no different than a dog searching for a bone! What's the glory in that?! What's the glory in that...?"
"Glory?! Is that what the GREAT Spes seeks?" The distorted voice chuckled, making Spes go silent. He kept quiet as he did not know what to answer. And under the dark night, silence prevailed, a young man slumped on his back, the cold wind blowing on his face.