“So your Discipline allows you to create entirely new spells?” Jonah asked, arms folded across his chest as he leaned against a tree, the rays of the setting sun in the west spilling across his scarred features. “From scratch?”

I sat cross-legged on the ground, having cleared a patch of dirt where I could sit. I’d also laid out a blanket my mother had given me—though mostly for Nimbus’s sake. Nimbus refused to lie in the dirt ‘like a common animal,’ so I’d dug an old blanket out of the caravan for him.

I found that kind of amusing. Before he synced with me, Nimbus had been perfectly content living in the wild away from humanity with no creature comforts. I guessed even Codex Beasts could barely stand the idea of lowering their living standards once they’d gotten used to a certain level of comfort.

I looked up at Jonah and answered his question. “Yes. Well, it allows me to create new spells by filling Custom Entry Slots. I just haven’t dared to try that yet, even though I currently have four Custom Entry Slots available.”

Ruth was sitting on an overturned tree that looked like it had been felled quite some time ago, mixing ingredients together in the small cauldron from her Potion-Making Kit. She gave me a curious expression. “You do realize how unheard-of that is, right? Creating entirely new spells from scratch?”

I looked over my shoulder at Ruth and raised an eyebrow in confusion. “I mean, I figured it’s a rare ability, but I didn’t think it was necessarily impossible—”

“By impossible, Ruth means it never happens,” said Jonah, cutting me off without apology. “And I mean ever. Never, ever, ever. Nobody just makes new spells for themselves. That’s not how learning new spells works.”

Nimbus yawned on the blanket before rolling onto his side. “Let it never be said that Aaron understands normality. For if he did, he would ask far fewer questions than he currently does.”

I gently tapped Nimbus in the back with my foot before looking up at Jonah. “You mean nobody has ever made a new spell before?”

Jonah rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. “The only way to learn new spells is to get them from the Arcane Codex—Quest rewards, the Spell Library, Node Fragments. That’s it.”

Ruth nodded. “That’s the way most Codexers usually learn spells, yes. And it’s a lot less limiting than you think because there are thousands upon thousands of known spells, with new ones being discovered every day by researchers and adventurers alike delving into the Codex or going on new Codex Quests. Quests, dungeon delves, and Achievements are the main ways most Codexers gain spells—besides Node Fragments.”

I frowned deeply as I considered what Ruth and Jonah had just told me. “Okay, but surely someone at some point had to make all of those spells, right? I mean, every spell has a Glyph Structure that was obviously designed by someone. So logically, what I’m doing shouldn’t be impossible, even if it’s really rare.”

Jonah gave me a rather annoyed look. “Nobody made spells because nobody made the Arcane Codex. If anything ‘made’ them, it was the Codex itself.”

Jonah wasn’t entirely wrong. The general consensus among Codexers—and people in general—was that the Arcane Codex, along with its physical Nodes in the real world, had always existed in some form or fashion for as long as the world itself had existed. Even if the Arcane Codex hadn’t always existed in a literal sense, it was thought to have naturally come into being in the same way other forms of life had evolved over millennia. Nobody had built or created it. That was silly.

But when I thought about that, I frowned even more. “What about portable Nodes? Those are made by humans. We also can repair Stationary Nodes.”

“Portable Nodes are made by humans—by Node Makers, using knowledge the Codex permits,” said Ruth. She pulled out a wire whisk and began mixing the foul-smelling ingredients in her potion bowl together. “That’s also why Node Makers are authorized to repair Stationary Nodes. We don’t know how to make new ones, which is why we focus on locating, reactivating, and maintaining existing Nodes rather than building new ones. The Codex simply does not allow humans to have that knowledge. Don’t ask me why, though. No one knows the answer.”

I furrowed my brow as I tried to wrap my mind around that concept. “Okay, that makes sense. I wonder what would happen if someone did build a new Stationary Node, though. Would you even be able to make it part of the Node Network? Or would it be the start of its own Node Network? Can you even have a Node Network with only one Node? Or—”

Jonah shook his head. “Aaron, let’s focus on one impossible thing at a time—creating new spells. What makes you think you can do that, and why haven’t you tried before?”

Jonah’s insistence on pushing me about my Discipline’s unique ability wasn’t surprising. The whole reason Jonah and Ruth had joined me for this exercise—even though both of them had already finished their training for the day—was because they wanted to see if I could successfully invent a new spell. I’d originally intended to go into the woods by myself, perhaps with Nimbus tagging along, but both Jonah and Ruth had wanted to see me try to create a new spell—probably because of its utter impossibility.

I had to admit, that made me feel a little anxious, but at the same time, it was probably a good thing to have them around in case something went wrong. While I doubted I’d seriously injure myself, I distinctly remembered what happened the first time I tried to modify Splinter Glyph without supervision—and how I’d nearly turned Nimbus into fried rabbit bits with the spell.

Speaking of Nimbus, he sat up and stretched. “Probably because he doesn’t want to hit random poor rabbits who’ve done absolutely nothing to deserve such poor treatment. And by ‘poor rabbits,’ I am, of course, referring to myself—though I mean ‘poor’ in the innocent sense, not in the wealthy sense, as I am much wealthier than the average rabbit.”

I scratched the back of my head. “Nimbus isn’t wrong. Part of the reason I’ve delayed crafting new spells is because of what happened when I merely modified an existing spell for the first time. I figured that merely modifying spells would be safer, though I have to admit, I’ve always wanted to try creating one. I just haven’t felt confident enough to try until now.”

Ruth finished whisking her ingredients and lifted the bowl to sniff it. “If you do get injured, you can be the first to test out this new potion I just brewed. Though if it works the way I think it does, it’ll do more than merely heal you.”

I cast a curious look at Ruth. “What are you making over there, anyway? I thought you were done training for the day.”

Ruth shook her head. “I’m done training my Support and Healing Skills. I’m trying to increase my Alchemy Skill, and the best way to do that is to make potions—including new ones. This particular potion was inspired by you, actually, Aaron, though I don’t want to tell you what it does until we get a chance to test it.”

My face grew a bit warm when Ruth said that. “Really? I inspired you to make a potion?”

Jonah sniffed the air loudly. “Smells like my grandma’s cooking. And my grandma was an awful cook. I don’t know why she never let the servants handle the meals when we visited her—that’s literally what we hired them for.”

I snapped out of my fantasies about Ruth and looked at Jonah in confusion. “Your grandma has servants?”

Jonah snapped his fingers. “Back to you. New spells. Why do you think you can do it?”

I looked down at Inkwyrm, my Codex Stylus, resting in my hands. “When I first got my Inscriptionist Discipline, the description mentioned that I could create, edit, and even hybridize spells by coming them together to make a new spell.”

“You can combine spells?” said Jonah in disbelief. “Even without a Party?”

“Spell Hybridization isn’t unheard of in certain other Disciplines,” said Ruth as she transferred some of the potion into a bottle. “Though it’s different from Combo Spells—like what we did back in the Verdant Seal. Combo Spells only exist as long as a particular Codex Party and its members do. They stop being available when that Party ends. So if our Party breaks up, for example, then Jonah and Aaron won’t be able to cast Shattering Shield anymore unless you guys form another Codex Party.”

I frowned. “Really? But Shattering Shield is so useful.”

“Don’t worry,” said Jonah with a wink. “We’re going to be together for a while, so that spell isn’t going anywhere.”

Ruth continued her explanation about hybrid spells. “But hybrid spells are spells created when an individual Codexer combines two—sometimes more, though that’s much harder to do—spells together to create a new one that has the features of both but is greater than either. These types of hybrid spells are sometimes called Gestalts, though most people just call them hybrids.”

I tilted my head to the side as I listened to Ruth’s explanation. “Wow. If hybrid spells are so much stronger than normal spells, then why doesn’t everyone use them?”

Ruth sighed as she put a lid on the bottle containing the mystery potion she’d brewed for me. “For one, it doesn’t always work. Not every spell is compatible with every other spell, and it’s almost impossible to know for sure unless somebody else has already done that particular hybrid before. If you try to hybridize two incompatible spells, you’ll almost certainly burn both of them in the process. And even if you’re successful, it’s impossible to separate a hybridized spell back into its individual components once it’s created. Losing two spells for one is a big ask—even for powerful Codexers—and it’s really only worth it if you know the result will be better than the individual parts. Otherwise, you might end up with something weaker or just not very useful compared to its originals. Or you just lose two powerful spells you worked really hard to rank up.”

I bit my lower lip as I imagined myself hybridizing two of my spells and learning they were incompatible. “Okay, I can see why people might be hesitant to do that. Though I’m surprised you know so much about spell hybridizing.”

Ruth shrugged. “One of the classes I was required to take back in healers academy was about Spell Hybridization and the risks and dangers involved. It’s a common area of research for the Harbingers of Health because sometimes hybridizing two existing healing spells can create a new healing spell that’s either stronger than the originals or capable of treating specific conditions current medicine can’t. I’ve never hybridized spells myself, though, so don’t ask me how it’s done. I just know that for normal Codexers, you need to use a Stationary Node to do it and it costs both mana and Words. Though I suspect it works differently for you, given your Discipline, Aaron. It sounds like you can do it without a Stationary Node, which is fascinating in itself.”

I nodded. Hearing Ruth’s explanation about Spell Hybridization made me eager to try it out, but it also sounded even riskier than creating a new spell from scratch. The odds of hurting myself while making a hybrid spell might have been lower, but it also sounded like I would risk losing the few spells I already had if I accidentally hybridized two that were incompatible. Maybe I’d test out that feature later, when I had more spells to spare and could afford to experiment. Either that, or I’d find a guide of all known hybrid spells and follow that instead.

Ruth then looked at Jonah with a questioning expression. “I’m not surprised Aaron hasn’t heard about hybrid spells before, but I am surprised that you haven’t, Jonah—seeing as you seem to have gotten a similar Codex education to me.”

Jonah folded his hands behind his head and looked away from Ruth with a slightly embarrassed expression. “I’ve heard about hybrid spells before, but I keep getting them confused with Combo Spells—like the kind you can make in a Codex Party. Unlike you, I didn’t take any specific classes or lessons on hybrid spells. Though I kind of wish I had, because now I’m curious about what kind of hybrid spells I could make with my own spells. Another thing to try in Hebron, right after I complete my Chapter Two Arcane Simulation.”

Ruth shrugged again. “If you want to risk losing some of your spells, then be my guest. Personally, I think it’s too risky unless you already know ahead of time whether your spells are compatible—but that’s just me.”

Jonah shot Ruth an annoyed look while I chuckled—but then I realized the sun was already starting to set, and I didn’t want to spend more time out in the woods than absolutely necessary. Though we were safe for the time being, I still didn’t want to risk it if I didn’t have to. I still remembered the False Codex Wolves we had encountered earlier and didn’t want us to get attacked by them.

Or even worse, by more Nullifiers like the guy in Greenwood.

I raised my Codex Stylus into the air, gripping it tightly. “All right. I’m going to try to make a new spell now. If anything goes wrong, I’ll let you know.”

Nimbus suddenly thumped his foot against the blanket and teleported into the upper branches of the tree Jonah was leaning against. He winked at me. “Don’t worry, Aaron! As your ever-loyal Codex Beast, I shall maintain a safe distance from your work zone so you can become one with the Logos and focus intensely on your work—without my levity offering a tempting distraction to your tired hands.”

I groaned. “If you’re afraid I might accidentally hit you again with a new spell, you can just say it.”

Nimbus wore a mock-offended look on his face. “I have full faith in your ability to create new spells without needlessly endangering innocent rabbits such as myself. If you need a practice target, however, I can heartily recommend Jonah. He has thick barriers and an even thicker skull.”

Jonah slammed his fist into the trunk of the tree, making it shudder violently for a moment—but Nimbus had already teleported onto the upper branches of the tree next to it. He stuck his tongue out at Jonah, who just glared up at the mischievous rabbit in obvious annoyance.

I chuckled at their antics before opening my Inscriptionist Console. Normally, with my Console, I’d select one of the spells I already knew and be given the option to modify one or more of its attributes—but this time, I wanted to create a new spell entirely. The only problem was, I wasn’t sure how to enter that particular mode. It wasn’t like the Inscriptionist Console had come with a guidebook or instruction manual, after all.

Then I remembered that I had four Custom Entry Slots, so I overlaid my Codex sheet on top of the Inscriptionist Console, toggled over to the Spells Tab, and selected one of the four Custom Entry Slots listed.

As soon as I did, the following window popped up:

You have attempted to cast an empty Custom Entry Slot!

Because this slot has no assigned spell yet, it cannot be cast.

Would you like to create a new spell to fill this slot?