The nature of rune magic was similar to normal magic, with some differences, as Valarie explained. Damon let the fire die down. The air was damp, heavy with moisture, and soon enough, night would fall. Evangeline and Sylvia moved around the clearing, casting the nightlight spell on everyone—except Damon, who could already see in the dark. Even Sylvia's self-made night vision spell was unnecessary for him. He had once considered using that spell in battle. His version, enhanced by his shadow attribute, could cause temporary blindness—an edge in close combat. But it wasn't practical. His battles were far too fast-paced for spells that needed time to cast. He shook off the minor distractions. Valarie waited patiently, her ghostly lips laying on the ground until everyone had adjusted to the light. "Rune magic was created by the Unknown God, as I already mentioned earlier. However," she paused, her voice soft and serious, "I didn't tell you that without reason." Damon gave a quiet nod, eyes drifting toward her lips as the temperature dipped slightly, the chill seeping into the air. "The Unknown God is… the god of names, right?" Sylvia asked hesitantly. "He's the god who named everything…" Valarie's lips pursed. "Yes. He is the god who blessed names. But he is also the god of many things—wrath, despair, dreams, void, death, life, nothingness, law, time, reality… karma, imperfections... and all else." Leona rested her cheek on her hand, blinking in surprise. "Wow, that's a lot… And here I thought the Goddess's domain was already massive…" Valarie sighed faintly. The pale lips seemed to carry a weariness—a deep knowing. "That's not even all of his domain," she said softly. "But that's not the lesson we're learning tonight." She gave them a moment before continuing. "Rune magic is the art of invoking the name of something through a written inscription to draw out its power. Names have power…" Each rune symbolized a primordial force or idea: fire, silence, binding, growth, motion, fear. On their own, they conveyed simple commands—but in combination, they could form complex effects. "Think of them like a magical programming language." Sylvia tilted her head, confused. "What's a programming language?" Valarie paused, realizing the concept was foreign to them. Her voice came out thoughtful. "…I see." She sighed again, then explained the concept—relaying ideas and systems the outsiders had brought to their world. By the time she was done, they seemed to understand… mostly. "Now then," she continued, tone sharpening, "let's not get sidetracked. When creating a rune, you must have a strong intent and the will to shape the world." She gave them a moment to absorb her words. "For that reason, rune magic is built upon the same elemental foundation as normal magic, with one addition—mind. Though, mind is technically still an extension of the fifth element: spirit." The group watched her, eyes focused. She went on to explain the strengths and weaknesses of rune magic. The difficulty was high. In the beginning, runes had to be carved into objects or written on scrolls. But at the advanced level— —you could write them in the air itself. Each rune was unique. Dangerous. One wrong symbol, one incorrect amount of mana, and the results could be catastrophic. At higher levels, you could even form complex sentences, full structures of meaning and command—syntax, Valarie called it. With the right strings, you could manipulate the world. Having laid down the theory, she instructed them to begin memorizing the basic letters. Rune magic could be expressed in any language—what mattered wasn't the language itself, but the intent behind the rune. The name of fire was different in every tongue, yet the meaning, the essence, was always the same. Damon couldn't help but remember the time he had used rune magic—with her help. Turns out that spell had been far more advanced than he'd realized. It would take years of study to reach that level on his own. "Now then… I've told you the limitations," Valarie murmured. A faint glow shimmered around her. A rune appeared, hovering before them. She spoke its name. "Ignis." Flames burst from the rune's center—brief and bright—before she casually snuffed it out. "Whoa… that was impressive," Leona whispered. Damon didn't seem too impressed. "Isn't your attribute solar… or light?" he asked flatly. Valarie's smile curled with amusement. "Yes. It is." He sighed, unimpressed. "Then that's just normal magic." Valarie scoffed. She had expected him to say that. "Yes and no. I can use light magic—but I cannot conjure fire directly. Now pay attention." Her tone turned serious. "I can create elements closer to my base attribute. But for an element like ice, which is its opposite, I would need to carve a rune and let the world fill it." Damon listened intently as she continued. To use a rune of an attribute far removed from your own, you had to carve the rune and let the world provide the magic. The world itself responded. "This is a restriction placed on us—those of us bound to a single attribute." "Is there another way to break it…? To use runes with opposite attributes?" Evangeline's voice was low, cautious. Valarie let out a slow breath. She was only a pair of lips now, but her knowledge was undiminished. "Yes. There is a way." Her tone was resolute. "Create a rune with no attribute of its own. Fill it with raw mana. Then transfer that mana to the rune you want to activate… we call them neutral runes. " The earth beneath her shimmered. Despite having no physical body, the lips summoned power. Two runes formed on the ground. Mana surged into the first rune—then flowed into the second. She whispered: "Tenebris." Darkness bled from the rune. "This is the opposite of my attribute. But with this roundabout method—I can cheat the rules of this world. Runes can be invoked… so long as you possess the intent." Her smile turned sly—tinged with defiance. "When there is a will… there is a way." She spoke coldly now. "Who needed the Goddess's permission—when man could carve their own path to the heavens?"