Flameheart, Part 1

[You leveled up!] appeared twice on my status bar after I'd successfully attuned to my new grimoire. This included a new title too.

[Flame Heart: Fire spells and effects are 20% more powerful, all attacks have a 5% chance of igniting a target for 2 seconds, 20% increased resistance to the fire element, and potions or poisons you make are 20% stronger.]

"Two levels in one go… groovy," I whistled.

Liara raised an eyebrow at me. "You leveled up twice…?"

"You didn't?" I asked.

"My level only rose by one," she sighed. "I guess it takes a lot more to grow when you're as strong as me."

"Wow, are you bragging right now?"

A playful smirk flashed on the she-elf's face. "Maybe a little."

Another ping from our status bars interrupted our banter, and we both looked at our glowing screens to check on what other boons we received from our grimoires.

"You ever get the feeling that this status bar's creepy intuitive?" I wondered aloud.

"All the time," Liara answered. "What did it show you?"

It's not what the bar was showing me, but how it was able to list down the exact details of what my new grimoire had just taught me that made me feel in awe of this gadget's all-knowing powers.

Here's the thing about grimoires. Whether they're the more common tomes you might find at an arcane library or extremely rare swords and rings you could only get from slaying a dungeon boss, they all had the same essential function; they were vessels for the accumulated wisdom, knowledge, and experience of those mages who came before us. That experience wasn't exclusive to the original author either because anyone who has ever possessed a grimoire was sure to leave their mark on it too. That meant new spells, styles, philosophies, and even the desires of past wielders were eventually shoved into the new wielder's brain.

Also, magic in the realmsverse wasn't just about memorizing incantations in a spell book. It was more like deep diving into the past and communing with our ancestors—learning from their experiences and allowing their philosophies to reshape our inner magic and our minds. Kind of like how my experiences with Extra Life helped me do better with each new cycle of my undying existence.

For example, as soon as I picked up the Flame Heart, it sent heat and warmth into my palms so I could experience the effect of its unique magical aura while it was wrapped around my hand. This then led to my epiphany for a new first-tier spell I've decided to call Fire Fist, a close-range attack with a low magic cost that transforms my winning punch into an explosive grenade that'll possibly knock the tusks out of a half-orc's face when I smash them with my glowing fist.

No, it wasn't the same spell as the one I'd just shown Liara. That impressive feat of magic was a third-tier spell called Nova Stella which I learned after fully attuning to the Flame Heart's magical energy kind of like that movie where Keanu Reeves suddenly learned Kung-Fu after a computer program downloaded it into his brain.

Then there was the spell I received while in the middle of the attunement process.

The second-tier magic, Volcanic Step, was something I learned within a minute or less. At least in real-time. Inside my mind, however, I'd listened to the whispers of my predecessors for what felt like an hour of brain-time—visualizing the key components of this complex spell with my mind's eye while a ghostly drill sergeant yelled suggestions at me from beyond the grave—before the magic was finally mine.

More importantly, the new magic I learned was just the tip of the proverbial iceberg. Over time, the 'Grimoire of the Flame Heart' would share more of its secrets with me and I was all giddy inside just thinking about the possibilities.

Admittedly, learning from a grimoire can be disorienting, and all those voices in your head can lead to mental fatigue. Or worse. Especially with grimoires as old as the one I now possessed. Most people aren't able to hack it, which is why there are so few mages in the realmsverse. As for those who do reach the heights of masters, well, Dwalinn wasn't exactly the poster boy for sound mental health, was he?

Hopefully, Liara and I will manage better.

Speaking of Liara, she was being pretty tight-lipped about her new spells, which was fine with me as I was also keeping my new toys under wraps for now. Still, I could tell from the cold aura wafting out of her shoulders that Liara had gotten considerably stronger since the day began.

"Want to spar?" I asked excitedly.

"Maybe after we've figured out our grimoires some more. Wouldn't want to accidentally turn you into a popsicle with an overpowered spell," she reasoned.

"It could go the other way around," I countered.

"You wish." Liara's taunting stare lasted about a second longer before her gaze drifted away from me to take in the rest of the vault. "Do you hear that?"

My brow creased. "I don't hear anything."

"Exactly." She tapped a finger against one of her pointy ears. "I don't hear them anymore… the vault's become as quiet as—"

"A tomb," I finished for her.

We'd only belatedly noticed it, but the other grimoires inside the Vault of Glass had stopped whispering to either of us, and the silence that filled this large space was unexpectedly unsettling.

"Divah did say we could only choose one relic… Maybe the other grimoires lost interest in us because we've already made our pick," I reasoned.

"That's a pity…" Liara's gaze zeroed in on the Sword of Damocles in its jeweled rack. "Would have been nice to see what these other treasures could do."

"You regretting your choice?"

As if in answer to my question, she stabbed the 'Ice Sword' she'd summoned earlier into the glass floor, and then a sheet of frost spread out of the point of impact to spread around Liara in a five-foot radius.

"Whoa"— I jumped out of the way before I was caught by the ice spikes that exploded out of the now frozen floor—"you are trying to kill me, aren't you?"

"Sorry, I didn't know it would do that." As she let go of her sword, both it and the spiky barricade surrounding her shattered into thousands of icy shards that disappeared into the air like sand on the wind. "And no, I don't regret my choice at all."

"I can see that…" I couldn't help glancing at Liara with just a bit more admiration than before She was the definition of cool which was weird as I thought most elves were uncool. "Now, how about we get out of here and see if we can't get into more trouble?"

Liara flashed me a warm, appreciative smile. "Lead the way, Wisdom." Then she frowned. "Just… no more stripping."

"No promises," I chuckled.

Our adventure in the Vault of Glass ate up most of our day, but the night was young and there were still one or two more treasures for us to claim.

According to Divah's journal, there was an apple tree deep within the garden at the center of campus that grew unusually large apples you could only pluck on the night of a full moon. Luckily for us, one of the Realm Ethereal's three moons—the pale blue Mother— was out in full this very night.

"We should hurry…" Liara cast a wary glance around us. "We don't want to run into any of the night classes on a full moon."

"We talking shapeshifters?" I guessed. "Were-bears, lowenmensch, werewolves, kitsunes or—"

"Berserkers."

"Ah… yeah, okay. Let's hurry it up then."

We strolled over to the one apple tree near the very middle of campus's expansive garden that had these unusually large fruits hanging from its branches that were reflecting the pale blue light of the Mother moon like they were lights on a Christmas tree.

I plucked an apple from the lowest-hanging branch and spared a few seconds admiring the magic leaking out of its skin before finally biting into it — and it was more than just delicious. It was... A bite of this magic apple was transformative.