Two Letters burned above the grove, and Noah was not finished.
The backbone held capacity for more, and the truths of him stood in a line he had known since before he had words for them. He raised his finger into the falling mana and began the third character, stroke by stroke, cerulean light turning back through itself in the lemniscate way.
The word it translated to was the center of everything he was.
QUINTESSENTIAL.
He finished the final stroke and spoke the compound truth aloud, three Letters now bound into one declaration.
"I AM OSMONT. I AM... QUINTESSENTIAL!"
BOOM!
The grove answered with light that had no color at all for a moment, existence itself flinching down to its essentials, and then the blue returned deeper than before.
