Azel had spent three more days in Rochel City.
The days had blurred into a rhythm that was both strange and comforting.
In the daylight hours he divided himself between Edna's quiet grace and Medusa's sharp humor, and even little Lillia often demanded to be carried on his shoulders, giggling as if the world itself bent for her joy.
At night, however, when the city slept, he found himself drawn into the Plane of Light, where the goddess Nyala waited.
It was tiring a bit but it took a day to get used to it.
Those nights were filled with lessons and mischief.
She drilled him endlessly on aura, mana, and the delicate balance between the two, her divine hands guiding his until he could feel every current within himself.
Yet she also laughed easily, poked fun at his stubbornness, and made him build sandcastles like a child beneath the golden skies of her realm.
On the beach of the plane, they had perhaps built over a hundred sand castles or more.
