“Once we are not pressed for time, I would love to give you a proper tour of these gardens.” Sentence said, reaching out and caressing the long and waxy leaves of a small tree with blood red fruits with pink spots. “But we are pressed for time, so rush we must. The arena is just beyond this next turn.”

Sentence walked the length of a large wall of plant life before coming to a wide arch that led to a clearing with stone flooring and a scant few decorations off to the sides. He beelined towards a large circular stone slab that had a thin triangle of stone sticking out of it, casting a shadow downwards onto numbers that had been carved onto the outer ring of the slab. He gingerly put a finger on the tip of the triangle and pushed until Elach felt Issi leaving Sentence on a scale he couldn’t even begin to grasp, running down the triangle and into the center of the slab before it was dispersed to the numbers at the edge.

“Have you never seen a sundial before?” Sentence asked when he caught Elach staring.

Elach shook his head. “What does it do?”

“It tells the time.” Sentence said, tapping the triangle once more. “The sun casts a shadow on this triangle that falls on one of the numbers.”

Elach looked to the sky, where there was no sun to be found. Light streamed down from perfectly above them, his shadow gathering in a puddle at his feet. And yet this sundial cast a shadow as if the actual sun was shining down on it.

“So this is how you slow down time?” Elach surmised, leaning over the sundial. Flow hopped off of his shoulder and landed on the tip of the triangle, yet the shadow did not change.

“Yes. I don’t quite know how it works myself, and since the god who built it has been dead for millennia, I doubt I ever will.” Sentence said. “It either slows down the flow of time itself to one tenth of its standard flow, or greatly increases our perception of time and increases our bodily processes to be able to keep stride with the change.”

Sentence shrugged. “Either way, the sundial allows us to stretch the limited time you will have to the maximum.” He called a copy of his axe to his hand as he walked to the center of the clearing, slamming the blade down at the single stone that lay there. “Just in case I forget, know that the ring has a rather steep recharge time. For every minute you wish to spend connected to me, you must not use the ring for one day.”

A few quick mental calculations later, Elach whistled. “Two months for one hour of time here. Not a very good return.”

“No, it is not, and that is why the sundial is vital.” Sentence agreed. “But anything more than that, and the ring would attempt to draw on something other than ambient Issi. Your growth would be stunted to the point it would be fruitless to attempt to teach you. One last thing; the ring consumes all its stored Issi on initial contact. You cannot build up an hour worth of time, and spread it out into six ten minute periods.”

“The ring always uses the full charge.” Elach confirmed with a nod. “I’ll make sure I’m somewhere I won’t be disturbed whenever I try to use it.”

“With those pleasantries out of the way, we can begin.” Sentence cracked his knuckles, then his neck. The sounds didn’t come from his body, but from everywhere around him. “We’ll start by crafting your focus, so that it may germinate while we work on other things. Bring out the coin Prisoner gave you.”

Elach reached into his pocket, grabbed Prisoner’s coin, and held it out in front of him between two fingers.

“Since your coin is a rather abstract item, I’ll use something else as an example.” Sentence slid his right thumb against his left palm, and a grey feather that constantly bled ash appeared.

“This is a feather from an ashen phoenix. It holds emptiness, destruction, and ash Issi. But the ash phoenix is not known for any of those; it is known for the medical properties its ash and feathers have when mixed into salves and balms.”

Sentence crushed the feather in his hand, revealing to Elach a pile of ash. After a moment of waiting, the ash began to tremble, reknitting itself into the feather it had once been within seconds.

“When someone attempts to create a focus out of one of these feathers,” Sentence continued, “they are working with both the knowledge of the beast’s Issi and their preconceived notion that they are beasts that heal; though ashen phoenixes have no Issi that can heal on their own. How do you expect that might affect someone with, say, recovery Issi if they tried to make a focus out of this?”

Sentence placed the feather in Elach’s other hand. It was far heavier than he’d expected, like it was made out of iron, and it was cold as the grave. Not warm, like he’d expected a phoenix’s feathers should be. Nothing of it spoke to him of health, life, or anything of the like.

“It wouldn’t work.” Elach said confidently.

Sentence shook his head. “Incorrect. Try again.”

“Really?” Elach asked, eyeing the feather with far less confidence than a moment ago. “It would do something they didn’t expect?” He tried.

“Incorrect again.” Sentence said, crossing two scarred fingers in an ‘X’. “There is one place you have yet to go.”

“It would work perfectly?” Elach said with disbelief.

“And there is the correct answer.” Sentence chuckled. “But there is a caveat; it would grant the practitioner a technique approximately what they expected, but it would be terribly weak. The perception of an item has a small additive effect, and an additional small multiplier. Someone with ashen Issi would most likely be able to create ash that fills in for flesh, but someone with recovery Issi might only be able to add their Issi to a balm to replicate the effects crushed ashen phoenix feathers have. Without the annoyance of having to keep the mixture in constant motion so the feathers do not reform.”

“Alright. So what does that have to do with the coin?” Elach asked, placing the feather back in Sentence’s outstretched hand.

“I haven’t gotten to that part yet. Patience.” Sentence tutted. “The difficulty comes in transforming the object into a dual existence; the physical object in your container, and a manifestation of the technique in your headspace. An ashen feather has known effects, and that makes it far simpler to derive a technique from it. Ashen practitioners have used them for centuries as a foil to their offensive techniques, and as such the process for transforming a feather into a focus is well documented and essentially foolproof.”

“But this thing is unique.”

“Exactly. There is no precedent for transforming that exact coin into a focus.” Sentence agreed. “The original was a coin from Cavress, the gold from a nearby river and silver from the city’s own mines. They were used for currency so that the small city’s currency would be valuable no matter where it was spent. But Prisoner replaced the gemstones that denoted the coin’s true value with small existential bleed crystals, which transforms a coin that would make an earthen Issi focus into something different altogether.”

“So you will have to go through the process of creating a brand new focus.” Sentence continued, snapping the feather between his fingers. It blinked out of existence. “You have Flow to aid you, so the risk you will destroy the coin is minimal. But if you wish to wait and use the coin when you are more experienced, I can provide something else for you to use as a focus.”

“No, I think I’ll use the coin.” Elach said.

“Very good.” Sentence chuckled. “Prisoner will be elated to hear that. Flow, take the coin and hold it in your beak. You and Elach will work together to make this a focus that calls from both of you.”

Flow chirped confirmation, flapping up to Elach’s hand and snatching the coin from it. They then landed on his shoulder, tilting their head to the side as they waited for more instructions.

“Be ready for Elach to saturate you with Issi. If it hurts too much, simply dig your talons into his shoulder and he will stop.” Sentence said, half to Flow and half indirectly to Elach. “You will relay back to him what the coin is willing to become, and he will give it the necessary Issi for it to put that transformation forth.”

“Do you understand, Elach?” Sentence asked.

Elach nodded. “Give Flow Issi, they tell me how to change what I’m giving them.”

“It will be a little more complicated, but that will do.” Sentence said. “Prepare yourselves.”

Elach nodded and tried to reach into his container, then remembered that the only thing he knew how to do with his Issi was make anchors.

“Uh, how do I pull Issi out of my container?” He asked sheepishly.

“Act like you are making an anchor; focus your will at one point outside or inside of you. But when you have a hold on your Issi, do not attempt to shape it. Let it flow as it wishes.” Sentence said. “This is the basics of using Issi for anything but your base function. Powering a focus is exactly as I just said, only the target is inside of your container. Or your headspace, if that is simpler to visualize.”

“Alright. Call me off if it hurts.” Elach said, and Flow ruffled their feathers in agreement. “Here goes.”

Elach visualized making an anchor right where Flow was standing on his shoulder, but did not actually push the Issi into its proper shape. After a few seconds of concentration and discomfort, Elach felt his Issi flowing out of his container and up to his headspace. Not exactly what he was looking for, but it was different at least. The Issi did not stay in his headspace for long; something else took control of it and Elach felt it disappear into nothing. Flow’s talons gripped him just a little bit tighter, and Elach felt his muscles growing taught.

“Won’t need a signal if it starts hurting too much.” Elach muttered, and Sentence cocked his head in questioning. “I feel what Flow does.”

“Good, that makes this safer for the both of you.” Sentence said with a nod. “Keep going.”

It took a handful of minutes for Flow to gather enough Issi to saturate the coin, and by that time it felt like everything in Elach’s body was on the verge of cramping. Flow constantly tried to retract their talons that were unconsciously gripping tighter, until Elach felt something come back at him through their bond.

It was cold and unwelcoming, like a sudden winter storm in the middle of a week-long journey. But no, that wasn’t quite right. It was more like listening to someone explain that they’d just survived a horrible day in a winter storm, and were begging for a place to stay and rest for the night. A plea for warmth and comfort. For a hot drink and a soft blanket, bartering with what little they could spare for a room at an already crowded inn. And he was the innkeeper.

With a shiver, Elach reached into his headspace and dipped into the fountain’s amber half, mixing it with the Issi he was feeding into Flow. The sensation became one of relief and exhausted joy, before dissipating completely and the cramps returned stronger than ever. There was still more to come.

For the next ten or so minutes, Elach constantly altered the speed and amount of Issi he was feeding to Flow as they sent more feelings across their bond. A glutted feeling meant he needed to send less through the bond, while an overwhelmed feeling meant he had to slow down the flow of Issi. Whenever Flow sent over another cold feeling he mixed in more amber nectar, the cramps getting worse and worse as the minutes went by. Then the cramps hit a crescendo, Flow’s talons digging into Elach’s shoulder so hard he felt trickles of blood running down his arm.

Elach cut off the Issi he was feeding to Flow, and the cramps disappeared. Flow let out a short chirp in relief, letting Elach know that their beak was now empty. He tried to feel at his container and felt a tiny disturbance, growing glacially slow as he watched. He knew something would be different in his headspace as well, but that would have to wait until he left Sentence's headspace.