The throne hall was as silent as ever when they returned.
Caelum stepped forward first, posture straight, wings faintly luminous.
"The escort was completed without incident," he reported calmly. "The irregular remained within permitted boundaries."
High above, upon her elevated throne of suspended time fragments, the Goddess of Time regarded them.
Her expression did not change.
"Understood."
That was all.
Arin shifted slightly behind Caelum.
He cleared his throat — quietly.
"My Lady," he began, lowering himself to one knee.
"If it pleases you… thank you for allowing this flawed existence to briefly remove himself from your immaculate domain."
He kept his gaze lowered.
"I am aware my presence is… less than ideal. Yet you permitted it regardless. For that mercy, I am undeserving — but grateful."
A pause.
He added, softer:
"I shall strive to minimize further inconvenience."
Silence settled.
The Goddess' gaze lingered on him a fraction longer than usual.
"You are… perceptive of your position," she said at last.
Her tone was unreadable.
"Do not misinterpret tolerance as indulgence."
Arin bowed slightly deeper.
"Yes, My Lady."
"Dismissed."
The air shimmered faintly.
They withdrew.
—
The moment they entered the adjoining divine corridor, Arin straightened and exhaled.
"…So," he said carefully, glancing sideways, "about that magic lesson you promised?"
Caelum did not look at him.
"Did I not explain that your mana reserves are extremely limited?"
"You did."
"Then you should also understand that your magic will not resemble the 'flashy lights' you admired earlier."
Arin clasped his hands together dramatically.
"But even so."
He tilted his head slightly, eyes sparkling.
"Pretty please?"
Caelum stopped walking.
Stared at him.
Exhaled.
"…I suppose I do not have a choice."
Arin's face lit up instantly.
"You are the finest being in this universe. Truly unmatched. A paragon of kindness. Hip hip—"
"Enough."
They moved toward an open training terrace — a wide circular platform suspended above a sea of drifting clouds.
Caelum turned to face him.
"Magic," he began, "is not solely determined by quantity of mana."
Arin listened carefully.
"In Heaven, most beings naturally align with light affinity. Their disposition, emotional composition, and spiritual frequency resonate with it."
"So personality matters," Arin said.
"Yes."
"Kind people, light magic."
"In simplified terms."
"And dark magic?"
"Rare," Caelum replied. "Not inherently evil. Merely… uncommon here."
He folded his arms.
"Mana quantity determines scale. But quality determines structure."
Arin nodded slowly.
"Feel your mana. Do not force it. Imagine its shape. Let it manifest naturally."
Arin inhaled.
Closed his eyes.
For a moment—
Nothing.
Then—
A faint sensation stirred in his palm.
Like cool mist gathering in one point.
A thin wisp of darkness formed above his hand.
Small.
Barely the size of a candle flame.
It did not flicker wildly.
It did not crackle.
It simply existed.
Dense.
Contained.
Arin's eyes snapped open.
"Wooo—"
He stared at it like a child discovering fire for the first time.
"So this is magic?"
The small dark flame rotated slowly above his skin.
"This is amazing."
He looked up at Caelum eagerly.
Caelum was not smiling.
He stepped closer.
Studying it.
The flame did not waver under his presence.
It did not leak mana.
It did not distort the air.
"…Did I mess it up?" Arin asked, the excitement dimming slightly. "Is it supposed to be bigger?"
Caelum's gaze narrowed.
"No."
He leaned closer.
"The volume of mana is extremely low. That remains unchanged."
"…As expected," Arin muttered.
"But—"
Caelum's voice shifted subtly.
"This structure… is abnormal."
The dark flame remained steady.
Contained within itself.
No waste.
No instability.
"It does not disperse," Caelum murmured. "It does not erode its surroundings. It does not behave like conventional dark affinity."
He reached a hand slightly toward it — carefully.
"It is refined."
A quiet pause.
"…Beyond reason."
Arin swallowed.
He could hear the difference in Caelum's tone now.
This wasn't teasing.
This wasn't mild surprise.
This was genuine confusion.
"Is that… bad?" Arin asked cautiously.
Caelum did not answer immediately.
"This magic…" he said slowly, "…I do not fully understand it."
"Because you are not meant to."
The voice came from behind them.
Calm.
Close.
Both of them froze.
The dark flame in Arin's palm trembled slightly.
Caelum turned instantly and dropped to one knee.
"My Lady."
Arin turned more slowly.
She stood only a few steps away.
There had been no sound.
No distortion.
Her presence had been concealed entirely.
The Goddess' gaze rested not on Caelum—
But on the small darkness hovering in Arin's hand.
Arin felt the weight of that gaze.
His excitement faded.
Something about the air felt… heavy.
She stepped closer.
The dark flame did not lash out.
It did not shrink.
It seemed… aware.
"I wondered when it would awaken," she said quietly.
Caelum's eyes widened almost imperceptibly.
Awaken?
The Goddess extended a single finger toward the hovering darkness.
She did not touch it.
Yet it subtly responded — drawing inward, becoming even denser.
More refined.
Her expression shifted by the smallest fraction.
"…Though I did not expect it to appear so pure."
Arin's heartbeat quickened.
Pure?
He looked at his own magic.
Then at Caelum.
Caelum looked unsettled.
That unsettled him more than anything.
"My Lady," Caelum said carefully, "what is this affinity?"
Her eyes did not leave the flame.
"It is not darkness born of corruption," she replied.
"It does not seek to spread."
She finally looked at Arin.
Directly.
"You truly are inconvenient."
The words were not harsh.
But they carried weight.
Arin swallowed.
He understood enough to know—
This was not normal.
His mana was weak.
Yet she had come personally.
Why?
The dark flame flickered once.
Still stable.
Still contained.
The Goddess lowered her hand.
"For now," she said calmly, "continue."
She turned slightly.
"And Caelum."
"Yes, My Lady."
"Do not attempt to dissect what you cannot perceive."
A faint distortion shimmered around her form.
Then she vanished.
Silence returned.
The clouds below drifted lazily, unaware.
Arin stared at his small dark flame.
"…So," he said slowly, "…that was not a standard beginner result, was it?"
Caelum remained kneeling for a moment longer before standing.
His eyes lingered on the darkness.
"No."
A pause.
"…It was not."
Arin looked at his hand again.
The flame rotated gently.
Small.
Weak.
Yet somehow—
Important.
He didn't understand it fully.
But he understood one thing.
This magic—
Had made the Goddess come personally.
And that could not possibly be normal.