"All right."

He sits down and studies Kastimund, with his hand on an empty page.

The drawing that takes shape is startlingly realistic, but... it doesn't look alive. It lacks the vibrant shimmer of perfection. The only hint that it's not an ordinary drawing made of ordinary ink is the touch of fiery red-orange light glimmering from behind the iron disc that covers the drawn spirit's heart.

"I see what you mean about noticing the—"

And the ink finishes blooming in the page, and his mind fills with fire. For a moment, it's like he can sense all the heat in the world, from the magma in the core of the continent to the sun climbing the surface of the sky. The intense, precise knowledge fades almost as soon as it arrives, but it leaves behind a deeper understanding of the element of fire.

He blinks a few times.

"—contrast," he finishes.

"And also why you should analyze me, I imagine," says Kastimund, a little ruefully.

"Yes. That too."

"The other spirits will offer similar benefits. You should analyze them all, at least a little."

He folds up the paper he was writing on, and carefully tucks it into his jacket. He floats to look at his page in the book.

His drawing is expressionless, looking away from the reader, towards something unseen. The body language is casual, relaxed, but something in the visage looks terribly empty. Like someone that's terribly lost, or too empty to be lost. The deep black drawing of the chain stands out against the careful shading.

"You know," he says, reaching out to trace the chain with a finger. Before his finger touches the page, it's stopped by a thin, fiery barrier, the same color as the light emanating from behind the disc on the drawing. He traces the shape of the swirling chain, leaving a dissipating red-orange trail. "I always found it terribly petty that our representations in the book come with our shackles. It's already chained us, it doesn't need to rub it in." His finger reaches the disc, and he puts pressure on the finger. The barrier's light brightens, but he gets absolutely nowhere.

He removes his hand. The glowing barrier fades, leaving only the glow from behind the disc. "It's downright tacky."

"I have a lot of complaints about the design sense of whoever came up with this system," say Riale.

"'They were desperate people under the ultimate time crunch, and they came to the wrong conclusions about several very important things and handled all of them badly, but they did ultimately allow a chance for there to be a balanced world,'" recites Kastim, sounding very much like he's quoting someone else.

"Fair enough. I still think I would've done better," says Riale.

"Yes, well. It's not like we could go back."

"Yeah. So, onward."

He pulls out a map of the continent and lays it on the desk and stares meditatively at it.

Kastimund sits floating in the air, looking at the map contemplatively. Waiting to be addressed.

"...Highpoint has to be it for Air," he says, pointing it out. "It gets the most air traffic of any city in the empire, because it has three continents sitting on top of it. And Wood's bound to be somewhere in Wildwood province... maybe Glittering Meadow, it's definitely the prettiest forest town available... Not sure about Twilight. Nightwatch or Gloaming, maybe? No, I bet Nightwatch is Shadow, which leaves Gloaming for Twilight. Water is definitely somewhere on the Laughing Lake, either Little Island or Brightwater... probably Little Island. Ice will be in Glass Lake somewhere, probably on or near the actual Glass Lake... and that leaves the Earth site, which could be anywhere in either of our two enormous mountain ranges... but I'm tempted by Sunset Ridge because it's such a neat counterpart to Dawnbrook and it's right in between the two sets of mountains."

"As the spirit gets closer to waking up, the book will point towards where they'll be located. If you're not sure. Otherwise - it all sounds rather easy, won't that be novel. Perhaps we'll even manage to wake some of them up early."

"It's possible to wake them up early? That sounds like a good idea," he says. "Straight to Dawnbrook it is."

"It's tricky, but possible, if you don't mind the ever so charming mix of guesswork and a bit of wandering. Lucky for you, I've got some measure of practice with both."

"I feel very lucky."

"You are. Your predecessor was very dedicated, usually this is a bit more - well. Typically it's less clear where to go."

"What was he like?"

"I don't believe I would know, the man threw everything he was into making this world. There was little left for him to have or me to witness. Ranelin took one metaphorical look at him, and decided to take care of feeding him. He was grateful, and spent the extra time also working on the book. Dedicated and brilliant, is perhaps all I can truthfully describe."

"Huh," says Riale. "Well. I'm grateful for his dedication and brilliance, then."

"I might be mistaken, my memory is hardly faultless, but I believe this is the oldest world yet. Grateful, indeed."

"Grateful and impressed."

And packing. No reason to waste time.

"I should take Kanero's swoop," he muses. "Nobody's going to have a better use for it than I do."

"No, but do please remember that writing the next world will not be made easier if you're a fugitive from the law. If that should be likely to be a result of taking the Emperor's expensive toy shortly after he dies."

"No fear of that. Vira will sort it out."

"Hm. How reliable is the 'swoop'?"

"Very. Did they not have those in the last world? Soars are big and slow and expensive and they move people and cargo between faraway locations, usually on different landmasses. Swoops are small and fast and expensive and they move rich people and government employees between whichever places they are and want to be."