For the next six months, Leo dedicated himself to the breathing technique he'd inherited from his family. Each morning, he'd find a quiet corner of the cave, settle into position, and begin the rhythmic inhalation and exhalation that had become second nature.
To his surprise, Old Stone never criticized this practice.
"I expected you to tell me it was worthless," Leo admitted one day, opening his eyes after a particularly productive session.
Old Stone's energy pulsed contemplatively. "There are better techniques I could teach you—ancient methods that would make yours look primitive."
"Then why don't you?"
"Because this one suits you." The spirit circled Leo slowly. "Perhaps because of what you are."
Leo tensed. "What do you mean?"
"You think I can't sense the royal elven blood in you?" Old Stone's energy flickered with what might have been amusement. "I've lived too long to be fooled by trinkets and disguises."
Leo's hand instinctively moved to the artifact that concealed his true nature.
"Relax, boy. Your secret means nothing to me. But it explains why your technique works so well for you. Elves have always had... different relationships with elemental energies."
Over the months that followed, Old Stone focused less on teaching Leo new spells and more on refining his control. The spirit pushed him to manipulate earth with greater precision, to understand its properties more deeply, to command it with subtler intentions.
The results were remarkable. Leo's power grew steadily, his connection to earth deepening beyond what he'd thought possible. His advancement from seventh to eighth circle apprentice mage came almost naturally—not through learning flashy new techniques, but through this fundamental enhancement of his abilities.
"You've improved," Old Stone acknowledged one evening, his usual harshness tempered slightly. "A year and a half at this level of strength is not insignificant."
Leo nodded, feeling a quiet pride in his progress. Yet even as he took satisfaction in how far he'd come, he knew what lay ahead.
The time for the second test had arrived.
"Before we begin the second test," Leo said, watching the pulsing energy of Old Stone drift around the cave, "I need to ask you something."
The spirit's energy condensed slightly. "Speak."
"Why haven't you taught me more spells?" Leo gestured toward his small collection of mastered techniques. "Earth Wall, Stone Skin, Earth Bullet, Earth Spike... I've refined them, yes, but shouldn't I be learning more advanced magic by now?"
Old Stone's energy flickered in what Leo had come to recognize as irritation.
"The library directional ring contains every earth spell known to the ancients. Have your eyes stopped working? Your hands ceased functioning? The books are there for you to study whatever you wish."
Leo frowned. "But your guidance—"
"Is not to be wasted on what you can learn yourself," Old Stone interrupted. "Do you think I survived centuries to become your personal spell instructor?"
Leo held his ground. "Then what exactly are you teaching me?"
The spirit hovered silently for a moment. When he spoke again, his tone had changed.
"Listen carefully, boy. The spells you seek—the flashy, impressive magic you hunger for—those are not what separate an apprentice from a true mage."
Old Stone's energy expanded to encircle Leo.
"Basic skills and fundamental spells. These are what you master when you become a real mage. Not an apprentice playing with power, but a mage who understands it."
"But—"
"The difference isn't in knowing more spells. It's in how deeply you understand the few you have. Can you cast Earth Wall without thinking? Can you feel the difference between limestone and granite? Can you shape earth with the precision of a sculptor using only your will?"
"You need to become a mage to study my core spells. Mage apprentices are not worthy." Old Stone said.
"The second test begins now." Old Stone's energy darkened, condensing into a tight ball before exploding outward.
The cave floor trembled beneath Leo's feet. Earth particles swirled, gathered, and took form—not a hulking brute like before, but something sleek and predatory. A cheetah sculpted from stone and soil materialized, its body lean and muscular, eyes glinting with malevolent intelligence.
Leo dropped into a defensive stance, palms out. "Earth Wall!"
The barrier barely materialized before the cheetah was gone—a blur of motion that seemed to glide across the ground. The earth itself rippled beneath its paws, propelling it forward at impossible speed.
"What—"
Pain exploded through Leo's right arm. He staggered backward, his mind struggling to process what had happened until he saw his severed hand lying on the cave floor. Blood pulsed from the stump.
"Stone Skin!" he gasped, coating his body in protective armor while pressing his wounded arm against his chest.
The cheetah circled, a predator toying with wounded prey. The ground beneath its paws seemed to flow, launching it into another charge.
Leo tried tracking its movement, but it was too fast—earth itself accelerating its every step. He pivoted, raising another wall, but the creature leapt over it effortlessly.
Another flash of movement. Another explosion of pain.
Leo crashed to the ground, his left leg severed below the knee. Blood pooled beneath him as he rolled onto his back, vision swimming.
The cheetah paced, muscles tensing for the final pounce.
Leo's thoughts raced. He couldn't match its speed. Couldn't track it. Couldn't—
The beast launched itself directly at his throat.
Something snapped inside Leo. Not panic, but clarity. Time seemed to slow as he poured every ounce of his remaining strength into one desperate move.
"EARTH WALL!"
Not a barrier this time, but a massive slab that erupted from the ground, slamming upward into the airborne cheetah. The impact was thunderous, catching the creature mid-leap and sending it tumbling across the cave floor.
For the first time, the cheetah moved slowly, stunned by the collision.
Leo seized his chance. "Earth Spike!"
The ground beneath the dazed creature erupted with stone spears, massive and unrefined—nothing like the precise attacks he'd practiced. These were raw, desperate, powered by his fading consciousness.
The spikes impaled the cheetah from multiple angles, pinning it in place as it howled and thrashed.
Blood loss clouded Leo's vision.
Then darkness claimed him.