"So you really are... me," Spes whispered, now fully convinced with all the facts laid before him.
"Doesn't that make us twins? I've never had a brother." Spes smiled. Not only was he relieved that he had not gone mad, but instead, was gifted with a sibling.
"..." The distorted voice sighed deeply.
"Just get stronger... I don't want to die along with your foolishness."
"You're no fun," Spes snorted, before finally targeting his focus back to the almost-forgotten Tome of the Magician sitting quietly on the mat.
He unfastened the leather strap that was keeping the large book closed and opened it, his eyes no longer containing shame or fear, but filled with newfound enthusiasm. Still, despite his vigor, the young man went slow, ready to read the tome page by page without skipping through anything.
And so his fingers passed the one page that had caused his recent breakdown, re-reading each word carefully:"The mage seeks not power, but knowledge. Power is merely the means to reach it."
"Don't worry, Master... I shall not forget your teachings," he whispered, before resolutely turning the page, where the index was listed. Reading through it, a drop of sweat rolled down his cheek as he smiled wryly. The index itself was already ten pages long. There was no way he could ever keep up with his slow, detail-oriented reading method.
"Heh, I think I can help with that," the distorted voice chuckled, seeing Spes visibly stunned without even getting through the index. As the voice spoke, Spes felt a spiritual sense leaving his body. He raised an eyebrow as that spiritual sense was completely identical to his—but he could feel something off about it.
"The Seeing Wound..." he whispered, recognizing the energy emitted by the spiritual sense as similar to the feeling when activating the Seeing Wound.
"Seeing Sense..." Spes's eyes brightened, finding the perfect name for what he had just discovered.
"Idiot..." the voice snorted, ignoring Spes and directing his Seeing Sense to the tome, making it slightly levitate, emitting a light blue aura. That blue aura flickered for a few breaths before completely dissipating, making the tome fall with a small thud.
"Interesting..." the voice mumbled upon the Seeing Sense returning back to Spes's body, its tone shifting—no longer mocking, but rather thoughtful.
"W-what did you just do?" Spes asked, his eyes brimming with anticipation. The small stunt the voice pulled off earlier had got him reeled up good.
"That... was not a very good idea..."
"I just retrieved every 369 pages of the tome... and they're all in my... head?" The voice's statement turned into a question as it realized that it did not have a head.
"How is that a bad idea? You literally don't have to go through all these pages!" Spes raised his voice, confused as to what his other self meant. Of course, he was referring to the matter of the bad idea—not the voice's confusion about its head.
"It's true that the Tome of the Magician is now in my... head... but each page is fragmented, as if a single cloud was torn down into thousands of pieces, and each piece constantly flying away from each other under the vastless sky."
"You couldn't have worded it any better," Spes said, slightly amazed at his other self's wording. The young man could immediately understand why cramming the tome into the voice's "head" was such a bad idea.
"I guess I'll just have to go through each page..." Spes sighed as he reached for the tome, smiling wryly at the thought of the 369 pages. It's not that he didn't want to, it's just that the time and effort it would take him to do so was unimaginable.
"Wait... I think something can be done... but I'll be needing your help."
"I think I'm good... I'll just go with the old-school way." Spes said, opening the tome and continuing where he had previously stopped.
"Oh no you won't!" the distorted voice shouted as the tome shot away from Spes's hands. Spes's hands shivered, feeling the remnants of the Seeing Wound's aura around. His eyes widened—both in anger and surprise—as he witnessed the voice's Seeing Sense power display. Spes's spiritual sense—no, every spiritual sense—could definitely not affect the physical world! Yet, the voice could definitely lift the tome away from Spes with his strange spiritual sense...
"Hey! Why would you do that?!" Spes shouted, setting the thought aside, questioning the voice on its aggression.
"You MUST get stronger. I do not want to wait ages for you to do so! If you die, I die. MY survival completely depends on you! So will you keep being foolish, or will you listen to me?!"
"I... You're right. I'm sorry. I did not consider that..." Spes closed his eyes, realizing he was wrong.
"Let's do this. What do you need my help with?" he said, resolutely opening his eyes.
The voice cooled down, seeing that Spes was willing to help. It grunted approvingly before starting to explain:"The thing between your eyebrows—I need your help to pry it open."
"The thing between my eyebrows?" Spes raised his hand to feel what the voice was talking about but felt nothing.
"What are you talking about? There's nothing there," he frowned.
"What have you been doing these past few days to not notice..." the voice spoke, dejected, wondering if it would survive long with its fate tied to Spes.
"Just... direct your spiritual sense to your forehead," the voice weakly said, obviously restraining the anger in its tone.
Spes did as instructed, directing his spiritual sense to his forehead. The young man jumped, sensing something in the area.
"You're right! There IS something there!"
"How could you not have known... That was the first thing I noticed when I gained consciousness..." If the voice had a head, it would be shaking it in disappointment, seeing Spes playing with his spiritual sense, feeling the "thing" between his forehead.