Morning sunlight filtered through the stained-glass windows of the church, casting soft colors across the prayer hall. Lulu knelt before the altar, her hands clasped and her eyes closed. Her voice was gentle as she whispered her morning prayer—an old habit that grounded her each day.
When she finished, she stood and exhaled slowly.
Today would be another day of effort.
Another day of learning.
She stepped outside into the crisp morning air and headed toward the training grounds behind the church. Though she had been immortal for a century, Lulu refused to let her body grow complacent. She believed that every priestess should be able to defend herself—and the world—should danger ever return.
The training yard was quiet, dust drifting lightly across the floorboards. Lulu tied her hair back, grabbed a wooden practice sword, and took her stance.
She began with sword drills.
Slow, controlled swings at first—downward, sideways, diagonal—each movement clean and precise. Her form was still graceful, but she could tell she had not practiced enough lately. The wooden blade vibrated in her hands each time she struck the dummy.
"Again," she murmured to herself, adjusting her footing.
She trained until sweat dampened her forehead. Then she switched to the bow. The tension of the string pressed against her fingers, the arrow humming each time it sailed through the air. Some shots hit perfectly. Others missed just slightly. Lulu's lips tightened.
"Still not good enough."
Finally, she practiced with the spear, spinning it through the air, shifting her balance from foot to foot, thrusting forward with force that cracked against the training post. Her arms trembled from exertion by the time she set the weapons down.
Hours passed.
When the sun reached its peak, Lulu returned to the church for her afternoon prayer. She lit a small candle, whispered softly, and let her mind settle.
Only then did she return to her room, pull the ancient book from her drawer, and place it gently on the table.
The spell.
The one that would let her create an avatar—
The one that would let her travel the multiverse through consciousness—
The spell that had been hidden for centuries.
Lulu opened the book to the first page of the incantation. Strange symbols spiraled across the parchment, twisting together in ways she had never seen before. She traced her finger along the lines, trying to understand how the magic flowed.
Minutes passed.
Then hours.
She read, reread, and reread again, trying to understand the structure. Every line of the spell seemed to contain a second meaning, and every symbol required deeper interpretation. This was far beyond the simple cleric spells she had mastered in her youth. This… was something ancient. Something closer to the Priestess's level of magic.
Her head began to ache.
She took a breath, rubbed her temples, then continued again.
The sun shifted through the window. Afternoon became evening. Evening crept toward dusk. Lulu remained hunched over the book, stubborn and silent.
Finally, after struggling through the same paragraph for the twentieth time, the pattern clicked faintly in her mind.
Not completely.
Not perfectly.
But she understood enough to move forward.
Lulu leaned back in her chair and let out a long, tired sigh.
"That was… just one page."
She glanced at the thickness of the spell section. Thirty pages remained. Thirty detailed, complex, merciless pages.
And she had only managed to decode the first one.
A small smile tugged at her lips—not of frustration, but of determination.
"It doesn't matter. I'll learn it. No matter how long it takes."
She closed the book gently, placed it beside her bed, and extinguished the candle.
The night settled in.
And Lulu, though exhausted, felt a small spark stirring within her—
the beginning of a long, difficult path…
toward mastering a power no ordinary human had ever reached.