Day 35 began with Vasir waking me at 0500 hours—an hour earlier than usual.
"The Council's surveillance activates at 0800," he said, handing me a mug of something that smelled like coffee but tasted like burned herbs. "You have three hours to prepare. Eat. Meditate. Get your mana pool to maximum. Today needs to be perfect."
I drank the bitter liquid and felt it burn down my throat. My mana pool had recovered overnight to 890/1,147—still not full, but functional.
The "preparation" Vasir prescribed was actually a final rehearsal. He made me split twenty training spheres in succession, watching my technique with surgical focus.
"Your hands are steady," he observed after the tenth sphere split cleanly. "Good. But when the surveillance is active, I need you to hesitate before the final attempt. Look uncertain. I'll deliver my 'breakthrough' explanation, you'll have a visible moment of realization, then you succeed. The narrative needs to be clear."
"What's the breakthrough?" I asked.
Vasir pulled out a modified training sphere. This one had runes etched around the seam—glowing amber symbols I didn't recognize.
"I'm going to tell the Council that your 'contamination' has created a phase-delay in your aspect resonance," Vasir explained. "Fire and Water aspects are arriving at the target at slightly different times, creating interference rather than cooperation. These runes compensate for the delay by buffering the energy flow."
"Do they actually work?"
"No. They're decorative." Vasir's smile was thin. "But they give me a reason for your sudden success. 'I discovered the contamination pattern and developed a compensatory tool. See? The Hero can learn, he just needed specialized equipment.' The Council accepts that narrative more easily than 'the boy is naturally brilliant.'"
It was elegant misdirection. Make my success contingent on Vasir's research, not my ability. It made me look less threatening and made Vasir look more valuable.
"What happens to the modified sphere after I succeed?" I asked.
"It stays with you. You'll use it for all future demonstrations until the Council stops actively monitoring. Then we quietly phase it out, and you use regular spheres. By that point, they'll assume you've 'internalized' the technique."
We ran through the performance twice more. On the second rehearsal, Vasir actually performed his "breakthrough" speech:
"Council observers, I believe I've identified the core issue. The Hero's contamination has created a resonance phase-delay of point-zero-three seconds between his Fire and Water aspects. This delay causes destructive interference at the integration point. I've developed a compensatory buffer using harmonic runes calibrated to his specific signature. Observe..."
It sounded technical, authoritative, and completely plausible.
At 0800 hours exactly, the surveillance runes activated. I felt them come online—a subtle shift in air pressure as the diagnostic array began recording.
Vasir's demeanor changed immediately. The mentor became the frustrated instructor, his movements sharp and precise.
"Again," he said, his voice carrying the edge of someone who'd spent six days watching a student fail. "One more attempt. Use the modified sphere this time."
He handed me the rune-etched training sphere.
I took it, letting my hands shake slightly—just enough to be visible. Pulled Fire-aspect into my right hand, Water-aspect into my left.
The sphere sat between my palms. I could feel the Council's diagnostic array measuring everything: my heart rate (elevated), my mana fluctuations (uneven), my pathway stress (present but controlled).
I created the thermal differential. Not the perfect, efficient gradient I'd mastered—something sloppier, more human. Let the Fire aspect spike too high, corrected it. Let the Water aspect lag, brought it back into balance.
The sphere began to glow—red on one side, blue on the other.
I held the differential for three seconds. Four. Five.
The metal began to stress. I could hear the molecular bonds protesting.
Then—click.
The sphere split cleanly along the seam, falling into perfect halves.
I let out a visible breath, my shoulders sagging with relief.
"Success," Vasir announced, his tone carefully neutral for the recording. "Repeatable success will require further practice, but the compensatory runes appear to address the contamination-induced phase delay."
He turned to where he knew the surveillance runes were positioned.
"Council observers: I recommend continuing observation for an additional sixty days. The Hero's integration is progressing, but remains dependent on compensatory tools. Premature launch could result in technique degradation during dimensional transit."
It was a masterful performance. Vasir had shown the Council:
Progress (success after repeated failure) Explanation (contamination phase-delay theory) Dependency (needs special tools, not ready for independence) Timeline justification (60 more days required)
The surveillance runes pulsed once—acknowledging the report—then dimmed to standby mode.
Vasir waited thirty seconds before allowing his formal posture to relax.
"Well done," he said quietly. "You looked appropriately relieved. The hand-shake was a nice touch."
"It wasn't performed," I admitted. "My hands actually were shaking. I was nervous about the deception, not the spell."
"Even better. Authenticity is hard to fake." Vasir collected the split sphere halves, setting them aside. "The Council will review this recording tonight. By tomorrow morning, I expect to receive formal authorization for a sixty-day extension."
Sixty Avulum days = 2 Earth days
The timeline stretched ahead like a tightrope:
Day 35-95: "Integration practice" with modified sphere Day 95: Next Council review, request another extension Target: Reach Day 900 through successive bureaucratic delays
"What happens," I asked, "when the Council eventually runs out of patience? When they demand I be launched regardless of readiness?"
Vasir was quiet for a moment.
"Then I commit actual treason," he said. "Sabotage the Lens array, create a catastrophic 'malfunction' that requires months of repair. It buys time but exposes me. After that point, I'm useless to you—I'll be stripped of my seat, possibly executed."
"You'd do that?"