Chapter 173. Boring

Uncanny.

That was the only word that came to mind as Adom stared at the small boy standing in his hallway. Seeing Bennu in human form was deeply unsettling in a way he hadn't expected.

Even more uncanny was how the transformation had turned out.

"You look almost exactly like me when I was younger," Adom said aloud.

Ada clapped her hands together. "I told him! I said you two look like real brothers now!"

Bennu shifted his weight carefully, still getting used to standing on two legs. "I have been practicing with your appearance for weeks. I thought... I thought it would be easier to blend in if I looked like family." His voice carried the same articulate cadence as always, but coming from a child's throat it sounded strange. "Is that a bad thing?"

"Not really," Adom said, though he was still processing the sight. "Just surprising. Very surprising."

"Does this mean I can come on adventures with you now?" Bennu asked, taking a tentative step forward and wobbling slightly. "I could be useful in this form. People would not suspect a phoenix walking beside you."

"Oh! Oh!" Ada bounced on her toes. "And I could come too! We could all go together and—"

"Absolutely not," Adom said immediately. "Neither of you are going anywhere dangerous."

"But Brother," Ada whined, "Bennu learned to be people! That means he's ready for—"

The front door opened, cutting off whatever Ada was about to say.

Maria walked in with several bags of groceries floating behind her in neat formation, her [Levitation] spell keeping them organized and stable. She was humming quietly to herself, looking relaxed after what appeared to be a successful shopping trip.

She took three steps into the hallway, looked up, and froze.

Her eyes moved from Adom to Ada to the unfamiliar boy standing between them. The grocery bags wobbled in the air as her concentration slipped.

"Um," she said slowly. "Who exactly is this?"

This would take a while.

*****

Morning.

The sand was cool beneath Adom and Bennu's bare feet as they walked along the shoreline. Dawn colored the sky in soft pastels, and the beach stretched empty in both directions. Perfect for what they were trying to accomplish.

Bennu took another careful step forward and immediately stumbled, windmilling his arms for balance before falling sideways into the sand.

"This is ridiculous," he said, spitting out grit. "I should be training magic now. It has been three days since I mastered shapeshifting. I do not need to learn how to walk like a toddler."

Adom chuckled and weaved [Levitation], gently lifting Bennu back to his feet. "Come on, try again. This is training."

"This is not training," Bennu protested, brushing sand off his tunic. "This is humiliating."

"No, it really is training." Adom fell into step beside him as they continued down the beach. "You're maintaining this form even in your sleep now. Do you realize what that means?"

Bennu looked at him blankly.

"You're weaving a continuous transformation spell. Constantly. Without break. Even I would have a hard time doing that."

"Really?" Bennu's eyes widened slightly.

"Really. So when you say this isn't training, you're wrong. Just staying in that form is incredibly advanced magic."

Bennu considered this, taking a few more tentative steps. "It does not feel difficult. It is like... like holding water in a cup that is exactly the right size. The water wants to stay in the cup shape, so you just have to make sure the cup does not tip."

Adom nodded, though he didn't pretend to fully understand. Trying to explain innate magical talent was like trying to describe color to someone who'd never seen. You either had the instinct or you didn't.

"The walking will get easier," Adom said instead. "Humans balance differently than phoenixes. We lean forward slightly when we move, and we use our arms for momentum."

He demonstrated, jogging a few steps ahead and then turning to face Bennu.

"See? The forward lean helps carry you into the next step. And watch how I swing my arms."

Bennu tried to copy the movement, managed three wobbly steps, then face-planted into the sand again.

"This is impossible," came his muffled voice.

"Up," Adom said, levitating him again. "Try it slower. Just walking first, not running."

They spent the next twenty minutes working on basic locomotion. Bennu's frustration was obvious, but gradually his steps became more confident. The wobbling decreased. His balance improved.

"Better," Adom said encouragingly. "Now try a light jog."

Bennu attempted to pick up speed and immediately tripped over his own feet.

"Again, why do humans make this look so easy?" he demanded from his position in the sand.

"Because we've been doing it since we were one year old," Adom pointed out. "You've had this form for three days."

"I suppose that is fair." Bennu stood up on his own this time, determination replacing irritation on his face. "Show me the running motion again."

Adom demonstrated, keeping his movements slow and exaggerated so Bennu could see the mechanics. The forward lean, the arm swing, the way each foot landed and pushed off.

Bennu watched intently, then tried again.

This time, he managed a few running steps before losing his balance. Progress.

"Good. Keep at it."

They continued down the beach, Bennu's attempts growing steadily more successful. After what felt like an hour of practice, something clicked. His movements became fluid, natural. He was still concentrating hard, but the awkwardness was gone.

"I think I understand now," Bennu said, jogging beside Adom with only minor wobbles.

"Excellent. Want to try going faster?"

Bennu nodded eagerly.

They picked up the pace. The cool morning air rushed past them as they ran along the water's edge. Bennu's face lit up with delight as spray from the waves splashed over their feet.

He laughed. "The sand feels so different from talons. And the water is cold!"

He began running faster, his earlier clumsiness completely forgotten. His strides lengthened, became more confident. Soon he was moving at a pace that would have been impressive for an adult human, let alone a child.

Adom had to work to keep up.

"Bennu, slow down a bit—"

But Bennu was laughing too hard to hear him. He was running with the same carefree abandon as Ada when she played in the waves, arms spread wide, hair streaming behind him. His feet barely seemed to touch the sand.

Actually, Adom realized with growing amazement, they weren't touching the sand.

Bennu was running on the surface of the water.

Each step landed on the foam of incoming waves, and instead of sinking, his feet found purchase on the liquid surface. He wasn't using magic—at least, not consciously. This was something else entirely.

"Bennu!" Adom called, but his voice was filled with wonder rather than concern.

Bennu finally heard him and glanced back, still running on water like it was solid ground. When he saw Adom's expression, he looked down at his own feet.

"Oh," he said, sounding surprised. "I did not realize..."

The moment he became conscious of what he was doing, he began to sink. But instead of panicking, he simply laughed and bounded back toward shore, each step still impossibly light.

Adom followed, pushing himself to match Bennu's incredible pace. The beach blurred past them, and he found himself grinning with the same infectious joy that seemed to radiate from his young companion.

Then he saw the wings.

They appeared gradually, translucent at first, like heat shimmer. Phoenix wings sprouting from Bennu's shoulder blades, growing more solid with each stride. Bennu didn't seem to notice them materializing.

But Adom did.

And suddenly, he felt something responding within himself. A warmth that started in his chest and spread outward, following pathways through his body that felt both familiar and completely new. The bond between him and Bennu pulsed with shared energy.

Without conscious thought, Adom used his skill [Resonance].

The effect was immediate and overwhelming. He felt phoenix fire course through his veins, felt his human limitations fall away like shed skin. His strides lengthened impossibly, and suddenly he was keeping pace with Bennu effortlessly.

No, more than keeping pace. They were moving together, their steps synchronized, their breathing matched. Two beings sharing one rhythm, one purpose, one joy in the simple act of running faster than physics should have allowed.

Bennu's wings spread wide, catching the dawn light, and he lifted into the air without breaking stride. But instead of flying away, he stayed low, just above Adom's reach.

The [Resonance] skill pulsed with untapped potential. Adom could feel layers of power he hadn't even begun to explore, connections between human magic and phoenix fire that ran deeper than he'd imagined possible.

They ran together along the endless beach, one in the air and one on the ground, both moving far beyond what either should have been capable of alone.

The warmth in Adom's chest intensified, spreading through his shoulders. He felt something pushing against his shoulder blades from the inside, an pressure that was both foreign and oddly familiar.

Then wings erupted from his back.

Not physical wings—these were made of pure flame, translucent and shifting like controlled wildfire. Just like the first time he'd used them when Biggins was watching. They spread wide without his conscious command, catching the morning light and casting dancing shadows on the sand below.

Adom nearly stumbled in surprise. He'd used [Resonance] before, but never like this. Never with such intensity. The skill had always felt like borrowing Bennu's strength.

When had he become so cautious about exploring his own abilities?

The realization that followed was oddly unsettling.

He should have been experimenting with this months ago. By nature, he was drawn to new magical phenomena like a moth to flame. Always had been, even as a child. Show him an unexplained spell effect or an unusual mana signature, and he'd normally drop everything to investigate.

So why had he been treating [Resonance] like an inconvenience to be managed rather than a mystery to be solved?

The answer came to him with uncomfortable clarity. Somewhere along the way, between Council meetings, teacher duties, research deadlines and the weight of literally having the world's fate resting on his shoulders, he'd... stopped being curious. He'd started seeing new discoveries as complications rather than opportunities.

Magic had become work instead of wonder.

He was a Magus, one of ten in the entire Empire. He sat on the Council that advised the Archmage. He published groundbreaking research on runes and other magical concepts. Students hung on his every word in lectures. Colleagues sought his opinion on projects that could reshape magical theory.

And he'd become boring.

Not boring to others, necessarily, but boring to himself. He'd gotten so comfortable in his roles, so focused on managing his responsibilities, that he'd forgotten what it felt like to chase after something simply because it fascinated him.

"Bennu," he called out, his voice carrying easily over the sound of waves. "Want to go higher?"

Bennu's laughter was bright with delight. "You want to fly? This is excellent! Yes, let us see how high we can go!"

Adom had no idea how to properly fly with wings made of fire, but [Resonance] seemed to handle the mechanics for him. The wings beat once, twice, and suddenly he was airborne, rising to match Bennu's altitude with an ease that should have been impossible.

The beach fell away beneath them as they climbed higher into the dawn sky. For the first time in months, maybe years, Adom felt like he was doing something purely because he wanted to understand it. Not because it advanced his research goals or fulfilled his duties or served some greater purpose.

Just because it was interesting.

[Resonance] worked through his body, making changes he was only beginning to comprehend. His Axis core felt different—more refined, more responsive. Like the skill was temporarily evolving his magical foundation into something more advanced.

Spells formed in his mind almost as quickly as he could think them. He tried some, and [Levitation] became effortless. [Light] responded before he even finished the mental command. Magic flowed through him with none of the careful precision he usually required for complex workings.

And then he heard something.

Whispers.

Adom stopped mid-flight, his fire wings keeping him suspended as he looked around wildly. The voices were right there, as close as if someone were speaking directly into his ear, yet he could see nothing but empty sky and Bennu climbing steadily above him.

The whispers weren't coming from outside. They were in his head. A language with no words he recognized, yet somehow achingly familiar, like a half-remembered lullaby from childhood.

Bennu, he called mentally through their bond. Did you hear that?

The phoenix stopped his ascent, wings beating to maintain position as he looked down at Adom with concern. "Hear what? You stopped moving. Are you well?"

Adom strained to listen, but the voices had faded the moment [Resonance] lessened its intensity. "Never mind. Keep going up."

He pushed for more power into the skill, feeling his core respond with that strange evolutionary leap. The fire wings burned brighter, and immediately the whispers returned, stronger now. Multiple voices speaking in overlapping cadences, creating complex harmonies that seemed to bypass his ears entirely and speak directly to something deeper.

Bennu continued climbing, oblivious, while Adom flew beneath him and tried to make sense of what he was experiencing. The voices weren't threatening. If anything, they felt... welcoming? Like they'd been waiting for him to listen properly.

He tested his theory, allowing [Resonance] to fade slightly. The whispers dimmed. He intensified the skill again, and they returned with renewed clarity.

Whatever this was, it was tied directly to his use of [Resonance]. And Bennu couldn't hear them at all.

The voices grew more insistent as they climbed higher, speaking faster, layering meaning he couldn't quite grasp. But there was something hauntingly familiar about the cadence, the rhythm of the alien speech. Where had he heard something like this before?

Then it hit him.

The witch. During their battle in the fae realm, when they'd played that deadly game of magical words. She'd mentioned something about the original form of magic, spoken in tones that carried the same otherworldly resonance he was hearing now.

Had she been hearing these same voices?

There had always been fringe theories about mana having some form of consciousness. Academic papers he'd read years ago suggesting that magic obeyed those it had affinity with because it chose to, not because of any mechanical law. Most scholars dismissed such ideas as mystical nonsense.

But if mana was semi-sentient, if it could communicate with those it favored...

The implications were staggering. And launching himself into an entirely new field of magical research when he already had students depending on him, Council meetings to attend, natural rune experiments to document, and the small matter of preventing the world's destruction seemed like exactly the kind of thing the old him would have done without hesitation.

The voices grew stronger the higher they climbed, more urgent. Not threatening, but demanding attention. Like they had something important to say and were frustrated by his inability to understand.

Adom focused on them, trying to parse meaning from the alien harmonies while maintaining his altitude. The language felt ancient. Definitely predated human speech entirely, maybe even leviathans?

But the more he listened, the more [Resonance] seemed to respond. His magical awareness expanded beyond anything he'd experienced, even during his most intensive research sessions. The voices layered and shifted, building toward something that felt almost like...

And for just a moment, he thought he caught something familiar in the incomprehensible whispers.

Something that sounded almost like his own name.

The voices grew louder.

What had started as whispers became a steady murmur, then a chorus. The warmth between Adom's shoulder blades intensified with each passing moment, spreading outward like spilled ink on parchment.

At first, it was merely uncomfortable. Then it became hot. Then it began to burn.

Adom gritted his teeth and kept flying, fascinated despite the growing discomfort. This was clearly connected to [Resonance], and he'd spent too many months avoiding investigation to stop now just because of a little pain.

But the burning intensified. The voices grew from a chorus to a cacophony, overlapping and building until they filled his skull with alien harmonies that made his vision blur.

The warmth became heat. The heat became fire. And suddenly it felt like someone was pressing a red-hot brand directly against his spine.

"Bennu!" he called out, his voice strained. "Come down. Now."

The phoenix wheeled around immediately, concern written across his young features. "What is wrong?"

Adom couldn't answer. The pain was spreading across his back like lightning, following pathways that felt disturbingly familiar. Like rune patterns being carved into his flesh with molten metal.

He began to descend rapidly, [Resonance] flickering as his concentration broke. The fire wings sputtered and disappeared entirely, leaving him falling toward the beach with only hastily weaved [Levitation] to slow his descent.

Bennu dove after him, wings folded for speed.

They hit the sand hard, Adom rolling and immediately trying to reach behind himself to claw at whatever was burning him. But he couldn't reach the spot between his shoulder blades where the pain was centered, couldn't do anything but writhe in the sand while the voices screamed in his head.

"Take off my shirt," he gasped, the words barely audible over the alien chorus that seemed to be coming from everywhere at once. "Something's burning. Take it off."

Bennu's hands shook as he pulled at Adom's tunic, but the fabric came away easily. Adom rolled onto his stomach, pressing his face into the cool sand while the voices reached a crescendo that made his teeth ache.

"WHAT DO YOU SEE?" he shouted, hoping Bennu could hear him over the noise that only existed in his own head.

But even as he spoke, the voices began to dim. Slowly, gradually, like a flame being starved of air. As they faded, so did the burning sensation across his back. The pain receded from molten agony to sharp heat to mere warmth.

Adom became aware of his own breathing again. His heart hammering against his ribs. The sound of waves washing against the shore.

And Bennu crying.

"Are you alright? Are you alright? Please be alright, I do not know what to do if you are not alright—"

"Bennu," Adom croaked, lifting his head from the sand. His throat felt raw, like he'd been screaming. Maybe he had been. "Yes, I'm alright. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to frighten you."

He pushed himself up to his knees, wincing at the residual soreness across his back. "Is there anything there? Any burn marks or scarring? Something was definitely burning."

Bennu wiped his eyes with the back of his hand and leaned closer to examine Adom's back. His intake of breath was sharp and surprised.

"It... it looks like a rune."

"What?"

"There is a rune on your back. Or rather, an intricate assembly of runes. They are glowing very faintly, like embers."

Adom twisted around, trying to see what Bennu was describing, but the angle was impossible. "Are you sure? Not just irritated skin or—"

"I am certain. It is definitely runic. Very complex. More complex than anything I have seen before, even in your research notes."

The implications hit Adom like a physical blow. He'd been studying natural runes for years, documenting how they appeared. But they were magical phenomena, formed by ambient mana interacting with physical matter over long periods.

They rarely appeared on people. He'd only seen it once before—Eren had one in exactly the same location, between his shoulder blades. Eren hadn't known how he'd gotten his either, just that it had appeared one day during his infancy.

"Describe them," Adom said quietly.

"They are arranged in a spiral pattern, centered between your shoulder blades. The lines are very fine, almost like calligraphy. They pulse slightly with each heartbeat."

Huh.

A familiar text appeared in his vision.

[Resonance has reached Level 2!]