As the first rays of dawn pierced through the window, Julien was gently awakened from his sleep, the sun's light warming his face; He rose from the plain bed almost immediately, with sense of purpose stirring deep within. Wearing a more basic attire, leaving his armor behind - trusting that Count Arnau would have advised him otherwise if it were necessary - he prepared to face the day. With Robert silently following, Julien navigated his way through the dim corridors of the castle, heading towards the dining area.

Upon entering the room, he found Count Arnau already seated, clad in another set of his distinctly faded but once-elegant clothing; In front of the count was an empty plate, while across the table, another plate was set for Julien. It held a simple but delicious-looking breakfast: two boiled eggs and a very well-cooked onion, arranged where he had sat the night before. "I hope you don't mind that I prepared some breakfast for you," Arnau said with polite cordiality. "I trust it will suffice."

Julien, appreciative of the gesture, replied with equal politeness: "I am sure it will be, thank you." He took his seat, beginning his meal with a quiet gratitude.

The modest meal proved to be more satisfying than Julien could have had anticipated, a testament to Arnau's culinary skills; And the goblet of wine served afterwards was equally delicious. As they finished, Arnau led the way out of the dining room, with Julien and the silent Robert trailing behind him. They stepped into the courtyard of Mataplana, its neglected state perfectly reflecting the quiet desolation of the castle.

Standing amidst the overgrown yard, Arnau adopted a demeanor markedly different from the previously relaxed host: His expression turned serious, signaling the gravity of the moment. "Alright, Julien Mazars, the time has come to commence your training," he announced, his voice resonating with authority.

He paused, considering his approach, then suggested: "Let's begin by addressing your uncertainties; Understanding your doubts will help me better understand your current situation. So, please, ask away. What questions burn in your mind?"

Without a change in his tone, Julien simply pointed towards Robert and asked directly, "How can he still walk among the living?"

Count Arnau, seemingly unfazed by the directness of the question, responded in a manner strikingly similar to Gregorio: "That, my friend, is a result of your hagic energy," he said, echoing Gregorio's previous explanation.

Julien's internal exasperation rose to the surface as he braced for another round of cryptic answers. "Oh Jesus Christ… Here we go again," he thought, frustration already clouding his mind. He was about to voice another question when Arnau unexpectedly continued, delving deeper into the explanation.

"Every creature on this Earth possesses a living energy, an essence that gives life," Arnau elaborated, his tone becoming more instructive, "angels are endowed with what is known as hagic energy, which enables them to perform acts that we perceive as miracles. On the other hand, fallen angels, or demons, possess the antithesis of this energy – the iric energy. Do you understand so far?"

Julien's nod was hesitant, a sign of his effort to keep pace with the unfolding revelations. "I guess," he murmured, a hint of uncertainty in his voice.

“Great!” Encouraged by Julien's response, Count Arnau delved deeper into the lore: "In the eras predating the Great Flood, angels walked the Earth," he continued, his voice taking on a storytelling cadence, "among them, a group known as the Watchers succumbed to the allure of human women. This forbidden union gave birth to the Nephilim - monstrous, malformed beings, existing beyond the sanctity of God's design." He paused, ensuring Julien was still with him. "Do you understand so far?"

Julien found himself doing his best to delve through the deluge of information, each piece more fantastical than the last. Unlike his conversations with Gregorio, which had left him grasping at elusive threads, Arnau's narrative was rather vivid and detailed, albeit slightly overwhelming. "Yes… go on," Julien urged, his curiosity piqued despite the complexity of the concepts.

Count Arnau's eyes sparkled with a mix of pride and excitement as he delved further into the ancient narrative: "What a perceptive listener you are!" He exclaimed. "Now, let's continue. The Nephilim, being devoid of divine grace, are brimming with iric energy. This sinister force allowed them not only to corrupt the Earth but also to dominate humanity for a long time. Their overwhelming iric energy twisted other living beings into what are known as Elioud — unwilling victims of their vile corruption." He paused, gauging Julien's reaction. "God's response to this chaos was the Great Flood, a story I'm sure you're familiar with. Do you understand so far?"

Julien, now starting to get acclimatized to the bizarre nature of the information, nodded. The pieces were starting to fit together in a strange, coherent picture. "Sure, go ahead," he encouraged, his initial skepticism giving way to a cautious intrigue.

Count Arnau seamlessly picked up the thread of his tale: "The Great Flood," he said, "was a divine intervention that eradicated many Nephilim, but not all. In the aftermath, God imparted sacred knowledge to a man named Enoch - a name you might recognize. He was taught the divine art of converting iric energy into hagic energy, a method to continue the battle against these corrupted beings." Arnau's voice held a note of reverence as he spoke of Enoch's legacy. "This skill was passed down through his lineage, with Noah of the famed ark being one of his descendants. Throughout the ages, this extraordinary ability to 'purify' iric into hagic energy has been inherited by a very limited few. Julien, you are among these ones, Gregorio and I both are as well." He paused, ensuring the gravity of his words had settled upon Julien. "Do you understand so far?"

Julien's response was immediate and filled with a newfound eagerness. "Yes," he replied, his voice reflecting the excitement and anticipation building within him. The realization that he was part of a lineage stretching back to ancient times, entrusted with a rare and powerful gift, was starting to ignite something inside of him.

Arnau's explanation, then, went on: "The techniques we use with hagic energy, at least most of them, have been passed down since the time of Enoch, thus our name, Enochians," Arnau elucidated, "what you'll learn here is a part of that ancient wisdom. However, each Enochian has a unique ability, a personal manifestation of the Nineteenth Angelic Key, or Aethyr. In your case, I would say you can channel hagic energy into Count Robert’s corpse, animating his remains with a semblance of life, if I were to venture a guess."

Julien absorbed Arnau's words, a sense of clarity dawning within him. It like a puzzle with many pieces missing, but that was finally starting to come together. "Did he just answer everything Gregorio had left vague?" he thought, a mixture of relief and awe washing over him. Grateful, Julien warmly expressed his thanks, "Thank you! You've truly answered all of my questions..." His voice trailed off as he recalled one last lingering doubt: "...except one," he added, "what was that foul concoction Gregorio had me drink before I first resurrected Robert?"

Arnau started to laugh, his amusement clear as he shared his theory about the mysterious potion: "Ah, that is indeed the intriguing part," he said, still chuckling. "once again, I were to venture a guess, I’d say that Gregorio provided you with a potent dose of iric energy, likely in the form of Nephilim blood, or perhaps even a concoction made from their flesh and entrails."

His amusement seemed to grow as he considered the implications: "Such a concentration of iric energy would be lethal to most, or at the very least, transform them into a powerful Elioud. But you, Julien, are clearly not like most; Not only did you survive, but you also emerged without succumbing to Elioud transformation. Remarkable, truly. An Enochian through and through."

Julien listened, a mix of horror and fascination dawning on his face. The idea that he had ingested something so grotesque and dangerous was unsettling, yet it also underscored the uniqueness of his situation and abilities. Managing to suppress a sudden wave of nausea, he refocused on the matter at hand: "Alright, then," he said with a bolstered confidence, eager to move forward, "is there anything else I should know before we begin my training?"

Count Arnau, still wearing a hint of amusement, responded, "Oh, there's still much for you to learn, far more than what I've shared. My account was but a brief summary," he chuckled, clearly enjoying Julien's reactions, "but let's not dwell on the theoretical for now. I sense your eagerness to start the practical side of things. Let's proceed to your training, shall we?"

Without adding a word, Arnau led Julien to a small, fenced enclosure within the courtyard, its sturdy construction standing in sharp contrast to the surrounding decay. Inside, a solitary young goat meandered, its emerging horns hinting at its youth. Positioning himself between Julien and the animal, Arnau gestured towards the goat with a casual flick of his hand: "Tell me what you see," he prompted, his tone nonchalant.
Julien, taken aback by the simplicity of the question, answered with a hint of uncertainty: "A goat?" He said, stating the obvious, "a young one, perhaps a kid?"

A knowing smirk played on Arnau's lips. "Yes, a young one indeed," he acknowledged, his voice laced with a touch of haughtiness, yet not unkind, "but what you see before you is a young Elioud. It was once a mere goat before being twisted by corruption."

Julien studied the goat once more, his gaze searching for any sign of the corruption Arnau had mentioned; To his eyes, however, the animal appeared no different from any ordinary young goat. "How can you tell it's corrupted?" he asked.

Count Arnau's expression turned serious as he prepared to impart his first lesson: "This, Julien Mazars, is where we begin your education in the Angelical Keys," he announced. "The first key you will learn to use is Chazah, or True Sight." He gently tapped his own eyes to emphasize his point, "to perceive the true nature of things, you must learn to focus a small amount of hagic energy in your eyes. For most beginners, this is a challenging feat, but given your unique Aethyr, I believe you possess the necessary consistency and control to excel at it."

"And how do I imbue my eyes with this energy?" Julien's question was direct, reflecting his readiness to embrace the challenges of cotrolling hagic energy.

Count Arnau paused, a contemplative expression crossing his face: "There are several methods, but there is one in particular that I favor over the others," he began, his voice tinged with a hint of gloominess. Turning away from the goat enclosure, he slowly walked towards a pile of semi-dry leaves, his demeanor suddenly changed to a somber one.

"Come with me, Julien," he beckoned, a somber note in his voice. "I will show you my Aethyr, my unique manifestation of the Nineteenth Angelic Key. It will give you an insight into how one can channel hagic energy in different ways."

Julien's steps quickened with a mixture of excitement and anticipation as he approached Count Arnau. The opportunity to witness an Aethyr different from his own in use, was a truly promising moment. He stood beside Arnau, his eyes fixed on the pile of leaves, his body tensed with readiness. "I am prepared," he affirmed, his voice steady but filled with curiosity.

Count Arnau, his expression focused and solemn, extended his left hand towards the dry leaves; His palm faced the pile, and a silent intensity radiated from him. In the brief span it took Julien to take a breath and release it, a sudden and dramatic change occurred. The pile of leaves erupted into a fierce, bright blaze, the flames leaping skyward with a startling ferocity.

Julien watched, wide-eyed, as the fire rapidly devoured the leaves, the heat and light from the flames casting a glow on their faces. The display was both awe-inspiring and terrifying, showcasing the raw power of Arnau's Aethyr. In mere seconds, the fire extinguished as abruptly as it had ignited, leaving nothing but a small heap of ashes where the leaves once lay.

Julien's voice vibrated with excitement, the spectacle of the flames still etched vividly in his mind: "That was… amazing!" He exclaimed, "the power and intensity of those flames, it was extraordinary! How is such a thing possible?"

Arnau, maintaining his composed demeanor, turned to face Julien. "As I mentioned, that is the manifestation of my own Aethyr," he explained. "But now, observe the ashes more closely," he urged, indicating the small heap left behind by the blaze.

With a blend of trust and curiosity, Julien stepped closer to the remnants of the fire. The pile of ashes. "What am I supposed to see in these ashes?" he asked, his gaze intently scanning the charred remains.

As Arnau stealthily approached Julien from behind, there was a palpable shift in the atmosphere. "Your future, Julien Mazars," he spoke, his voice carrying an ominous weight that belied the calm of the moment before. His hand reached out, gently touching Julien's back.

In an instant, an eruption of deep, consuming flames enveloped Julien from head to toe. The flames seemed to materialize out of nowhere, wrapping around him in a fiery embrace. His cry of shock pierced the air, a harrowing sound that resonated beyond the castle walls.

At the same time, Robert's animated form succumbed to the sudden loss of Julien's control; The corpse collapsed to the ground, as lifeless as it was supposed to be.