Though he had made progress with the words, Ansel was still unsure how to translate these letters into the intricate shapes and lines that would form the sigil's final design.
"Then, what's next?" He asked Rhea. He sought her for guidance.
Rhea responded by introducing him to ancient Latin archaic letters. She guided his hand as he began to weave the consonants into elegant, mystical shapes. Together, they formed a sigil that pulsed with latent power, a symbol both ancient and alive.
Having received such invaluable help from Rhea, Ansel felt a deep sense of gratitude. He looked at the Simurgh and said sincerely. "Thank you for helping me. So, I will give you one request."
Rhea's eyes gleamed with curiosity. She asked. "What is it?"
Ansel smiled warmly. "It's whatever you want. I promise to grant it."
The promise Ansel made was solemn and heartfelt. It meant only for Rhea, his Guardian Spirit. It was a vow born from gratitude and respect, a pledge to honor the bond they were beginning to forge. Yet beneath his calm exterior, a swirl of curiosity and apprehension churned within him.
What could Rhea possibly want? Ansel pondered this question deeply. He knew that the desires of an immortal being were likely far beyond the reach of ordinary mortals.
The needs of the Immortal Realm were mysterious and often unattainable by human hands. Yet, despite the daunting nature of such a promise, Ansel was determined to try.
Ansel hoped fervently that Rhea's request would not be something impossible for a human to fulfill. The thought of failing her weighed heavily on his mind. But no matter what she might ask, Ansel resolved to accept it without hesitation.
Still, a quiet uncertainty lingered. Could he truly give Rhea what she desired? This question haunted him, but he pushed it aside. He instead focused on the promise he had made.
As the night deepened, Ansel sat quietly, waiting for Rhea's response. The Simurgh's eyes gleamed softly in the dim light, reflecting a wisdom that spanned centuries.
The air between them was thick with unspoken words. Though Rhea remained silent Ansel could sense a storm brewing within her.
Although they had just met, but Ansel seemed to know her for a long time. And he knew well that when she was quiet like this. It meant something important was weighing on her mind.
Minutes stretched into what felt like hours. Ansel's mind raced with possibilities. What could she possibly need something that she hadn't yet voiced?
Hence, he wanted to help, to ease whatever burden she carried. However, she held back, her lips sealed tightly as if guarding a secret too precious or too painful to share.
Finally, breaking the silence, Rhea's voice was soft but firm. "No. I don't need anything."
Ansel's heart sank a little. He hadn't expected her to deny her true feelings so easily. He knew better than to accept her words at face value.
There was always more beneath the surface with Rhea. Gently, he pressed again. He asked, his eyes searching hers for a flicker of truth. "So, what do you truly want?"
Rhea hesitated, her gaze dropping to the ground. When she finally looked up, her eyes held a mixture of longing and sadness. "I wish I could turn into a human ... Can you grant it?"
The request hit Ansel like a sudden gust of cold wind. He had anticipated something difficult. But this was beyond what he had imagined.
To grant such a wish was no small feat. It was a transformation that defied the natural order. It crossed boundaries that few could achieve.
"It was so difficult. How can I possibly grant it? How about the others? I'm sure that you have another wish." Ansel said. His voice was heavy with the weight of reality.
Rhea said nothing. Instead, she turned away. Her claws brushed against the hilt of her sword.
The weapon gleamed faintly in the dim light, a symbol of the life she led a life bound by duty, battle, and sacrifice. But her silence spoke volumes, louder than any words could.
Ansel watched her. He tried to understand that this was more than a mere wish. It was a dream of belonging, of feeling flesh and blood. It was the experience of the world as immortal did, with all its fragility and beauty. But it was also a dream fraught with danger and uncertainty.
How hard he thought Ansel couldn't understand what Rhea was thinking at all. Her silence felt like a wall between them. And the more he tried to reach her, the more distant she seemed.
He sensed that his earlier words though meant to be gentle had somehow offended her feelings. The subtle shift in her demeanor told him she no longer wished to talk. The realization stung more than he expected.
Yet, despite the coldness that had settled between them, Ansel felt a deep gratitude for Rhea's kindness. Beneath her quiet strength was a heart that had shown him compassion time and again.
That was why he knew, without a doubt, that he had to treat her with care and respect. More than that, he had to protect her, no matter how.
His mind churned with thoughts about Rhea's wish to become human. The concept was foreign to him. After all, he did not know the life of the Immortal, nor the mysteries that surrounded their existence.
But he knew one thing clearly: Rhea must have understood the process well enough to attempt it herself. The only explanation for her failure was that something had gone terribly wrong.
Ansel wondered aloud. His voice was barely a whisper. "Why does she want to turn into a human? Immortals can do it, can't they? Did something happen to Rhea? ... That's right, I'm sure."
His gaze shifted to Viorenving. Ansel could feel the vulnerability that Rhea carried. It was hidden beneath her stoic exterior. It was a vulnerability that only a few could see, and he was determined to be one to see.
Taking a deep breath, Ansel spoke with quiet conviction. "Rhea, don't worry I will definitely help you. I will find a way to be able to grant what you want."
Though Rhea said nothing in response, Ansel could see a flicker of hope in her eyes. A fragile spark that told him she believed him, even if just a little. And in that moment, he vowed silently to himself that no matter how impossible the task seemed. He would not rest until he had found a way to make her wish come true.