It happened during a conversation about nothing.
Vellichor's essence had long since stopped expecting anything to happen, either important or unimportant, while he was speaking to Endrith.
He had been explaining why he had always disliked royal courts.
Not because of royalty itself, he had decided, but because of the expectation that every person in the room needed to pretend they were considerably more important than they actually were.
Endrith continued staring toward the vortex.
"As though wearing a crown somehow makes a man wiser," Vellichor said. "It doesn't. It merely gives him a heavier hat."
He paused.
"I suppose you would know."
Endrith did not answer.
Vellichor continued.
"I've always wondered whether you enjoyed being king. I wouldn't-"
And then something happened.
He stopped speaking.
For a moment, he did not understand what was happening or what he was feeling.
It had been a long time since he had felt it, and he needed to remember it first.
Power?
Not the vague potential he had gradually discovered within himself.
Not the strange energy that seemed to exist naturally within this realm.
This was something else.
A sudden, tremendous surge.
It rushed through him without warning.
His thoughts accelerated.
For one brief moment, the realm seemed to become sharper around him.
The vortex, which had always been little more than an incomprehensible mass of power, suddenly became something he could perceive.
Not fully, but more than enough.
He stared at it.
He had power.
He did not know where it had come from.
He did not know why it had appeared.
He did not know whether it would disappear again.
Those questions could wait.
There was only one thing that mattered.
He could do something.
But he did nothing at first.
He simply felt the power inside him.
It was strange.
He had forgotten how satisfying it could be.
There was substance to him now.
Weight and purpose.
He existed more firmly than he ever had before in this realm.
He reached inward, and there it was.
A reserve.
Small compared to what he remembered possessing in life, but vast compared to what he had had before this moment.
He did not need to philosophize about it.
There was no need to think about how to use it.
What to cast, or shape, or construct.
Vellichor's essence reached toward the vortex.
His own power was real.
He could feel it moving through him, more than he had possessed for what felt like an eternity.
Yet this was not enough.
He remembered that an immense amount of power had sent him here.
Whether on purpose or by accident was of no matter.
So he did what he thought was necessary.
He wasted no moment.
He reached for the vortex and opened himself to its power.
The response was immediate.
Power flowed into him.
It was like a gentle river flowing from an ocean into him.
There was no resistance.
No struggle.
No pain or price.
Just power.
An endless amount.
It flowed into him as naturally as water filling an empty vessel.
This power required nothing from him.
No knowledge, effort, pain, time, or blood.
Even the simplest spell had rules.
This, instead, simply gave.
The more he took, the more his form expanded and refined.
If there was any part of him that remained undefined, he no longer knew it.
His thoughts became clear.
He could sense the structure of the realm.
Not everything, but far more than had seemed possible before.
Vellichor drew in more.
The vortex responded willingly.
It was almost frighteningly easy.
He had never experienced anything like it.
And then, something moved behind him.