Oddly, the spell found nothing wrong with Narlond's health. Aside from being hungry and tired, the Rezar appeared to be completely fine.

"Maybe it's because you ate my lunch, you made me wish to blow my own eardrums, and then you used my clothes as a towel. Again!" Nalrond's voice was a low snarl.

"What a crybaby. Unlike you, I didn't spend the whole morning sitting on my ass. I was hungry and that soup hit the spot just nicely. I'll cook you up something delicious in a jiffy." Morok replied.

"Gods, no! I'd rather drink a nutrients potion." Nalrond whined.

"As for the lack of towels, it's not my fault if we have to say here for so long and I didn't pack enough. Besides, after a shower, I'm as clean as a baby so no harm no foul. You can still wear your clothes after drying them a bit."

Morok showed Nalrond a crumpled shirt with several water stains and several hairs. Some long and straight while others suspiciously short and curly.

"See? It's as good as new."

Nalrond groaned, wondering if darkness magic would suffice or if only by cleansing the shirt with fire could such evil be destroyed.

Later, that afternoon, Quylla and Morok went back to the cave and double-checked everything before starting the second attempt at communing with Mogar. This time, all the magic circles had been drawn with Quylla's method and glowed with an emerald light.

"Are you sure you don't want Friya to be here as well? If you end up like Nalrond, I might not be able to save you on my own." Quylla asked.

On the one hand, she wanted to try the ritual just to see Mogar with her own eyes and learn what the planet thought about her. On the other hand, just looking at her own Soul Projection made Quylla doubt she would survive the experience.

"Don't worry, I'm not going to take unnecessary risks. The moment I understand I'm not up to the task, I'm going to get out of there. I just want to understand how much of the ritual depends on Mogar and how much on the mage."

Morok sat cross-legged in the middle of the formation, to shield his mind from external influences.

"Why are you doing this? You've got nothing to gain from asking questions for others." Quylla said.

"Because if I'm right about the nature of the ritual, I'll learn a lot about myself anyway." Morok said, leaving her flabbergasted.

She had expected some cheesy pick-up line or a heroic speech intended to be a pick-up line, not an answer that actually made sense.

Morok then went over his strategy with her for the last time before closing his eyes and opening his mind.

The mindscape was exactly as Nalrond had described it. A white empty space with only two people: Morok and Mogar.

The former was dressed in his old Ranger uniform and even had the Baby Fangs hung to his hips instead of the weapons that Ajatar had crafted for him. Morok had his human appearance, which surprised Mogar quite a bit.

"Don't you think you're trying a bit too hard for someone you know so little?" She said while waving at her body that looked exactly like Quylla.

The only difference with the original was the hair streaked with all the six colors of the elements rather than just silver.

"Not really. You've got no idea how hard it is to find someone who's even more messed up than I am, but in a good way. Besides, I wanted to look you in the eyes and tell you to mind your own business!" Morok snarled, losing his carefree attitude for a second.

"Oh my. Did I strike a nerve?" Mogar giggled in a cruel way that Morok found both scary and charming.

"A lot of them, actually." He honestly replied. "Enough chit-chat. You know why I'm here."

"What are your questions?" Mogar sighed.

"So much for being omniscient. I want to know how to heal the girl called Solus, how to heal Lith, and how to make Quylla Awaken without losing her life." He said.

"Not a single question for yourself. Are you that generous or just that stupid? You don't know anything about them. Why do you put your life on the line for them?" Mogar's eyes shone with interest.

"I'm just that stupid. As for your second question, I'm not doing it for them so much as for myself. I want to understand who I am and what I want, or I'll end up wasting my life like my father. No pain no gain." Morok said.

"You could've just asked me. Didn't you think of that?" Mogar asked.

"I did, but that kind of answers only makes sense if you find them by yourself otherwise they sound just like the ramblings of a fortune teller."

"Wise words for someone so simple-minded." Mogar snapped her fingers, making three spheres of light appear.

Remembering what Nalrond had told him, Morok closed in to each one of them, to make sure that the nature of their trial was the same. The first sphere summoned the battered figure of Menadion, the second the chained Mad King, but the third took him by surprise and almost snapped his neck with a single flick of the wrist.

Another Quylla stood in front of him, wearing the deep violet robe of a Magus and with Bloodbind slithering out of her sleeves like twin angry snakes made of Adamant.

"Does the answer look like Quylla because it's about her or because I like her?" Morok asked, wondering if three Quyllas were more than he could handle.

"Are those your questions?" Judging by her grimace, Mogar didn't seem to have liked his attentions.

'Now that I think about it, if this is taking place inside my mind, talking or thinking is the same thing.' He thought.

"It is, you creep." Mogar replied. "Now answer my question."

"I'm not going to waste my time on such a trivial matter. I'm more intrigued at the idea of how much control I have in here." Morok squinted his eyes as he focused and the white space around him suddenly turned into the garden surrounding a small cottage.

A square fence of wooden stakes held together by wooden planks separated the house from the rest of the world that was still white and empty. The cottage was a one-story building made of wood with a sloping roof and a door painted a deep green.

He could smell the eggs and bacon that his mother prepared him for breakfast on his birthday, but there was no trace of his mother or the food. The smell of the soap she used made the memory even more painful.

"How can you still long for the same woman who kicked you out of her life even though you were just an innocent child?" Mogar asked.

"She's still my Mom and I hoped to see if she's alright. Now that I've understood the ground rules, there only one question left." Morok delicately massaged his temples while focusing more than ever while staring at his opponents.

"You're a remarkable man, Morok Eari." Mogar said. "You accepted your past and the scars that it inflicted upon you without letting it ruin your life. It's no wonder that your soul is at peace."