The discovery that what I had connected to that day was a complex system opened the door to interesting developments. At first, I spent several months testing it, learning its limitations and possible uses.
What I found was fascinating. My comparison to a computer was correct—but the programming language of this system is more intuitive. Instead of words, it operates through understanding. In other words, the more knowledge one has, the better it can be used.
The limitation I discovered is that I cannot access this system without focusing my entire mind. While connected, my body remains defenseless, as I enter a state of deep meditation.
With that in mind, I tried to create a script—in other words, a dedicated construct that executes multiple functions and returns what I want.
Test one:
A function that checks authorization, ensuring that only someone with permission can use the construct.A function that searches the world for what the user is looking for.A function that takes the result of the previous function and translates it into an image using light, like a hologram.A function that executes the first function and, if it returns true, executes the third.
With the construct created, I left meditation and spoke the word "Heuriskein." I used a word from Ancient Greek that no one in this world would likely know or be able to pronounce.
I waited two seconds. I felt the magic being consumed, but the image I expected did not appear. That was when I realized—I had created the function to generate the hologram, but I had not specified where it should be displayed.
Returning to the construct, I corrected the function and improved the hologram generation process. With everything ready, I took a deep breath and tried again.
"Heuriskein."
Thinking of Elena, I felt the magic being consumed, and soon an image appeared in front of me—Elena at the school, now teaching only two students, as the others had grown up or reached a sufficient level of proficiency in mathematics and writing.
It worked.
A laugh escaped me, deep and genuine. If this test worked, then many of my projects could now become reality. This method of spellcasting is far superior—I can now create complex spells.
I spent the rest of the afternoon testing the new spell.
Unfortunately, I could only generate a static image—like a photograph. No continuous monitoring. From what I understood, magic in this world depends on connection: I need to have already seen the place or person. Without that, the spell simply fails.
I decided to keep that limitation… for now.
It was almost night when I decided to head back.
But first, I wanted to test one more thing—the limits of distance… and whether beings with magic could sense my observation.
With that in mind, I cast the spell again.
I thought of an elf… holding a dragon egg.
The image formed.
And I froze.
My heart sped up—not out of fear, but recognition.
I cast the spell again.
Confirmed.
Arya.
Surrounded by flames.
Saphira's egg in her hands.
On the second attempt… something changed.
She was looking directly at the image.
Not at me.
But in the direction.
She sensed it.
I exhaled slowly.
So that's it.
It's not invisible.
I remained silent for a moment, observing.
I had been so absorbed in my testing that I hadn't noticed time passing.
And then… it began.
Eragon's story.
From a simple farmer… to a Dragon Rider.
I cast the spell once more.
Arya… fallen.
Again—the egg.
And then—
In Eragon's hands.