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With a grin, Zevemar settled into his familiar position on the floor beside his father. Many happy hours had been spent in this position during his childhood, just the two of them and their books, maybe with a hot drink or two to stay cosy. This was how Zev learned Draconic and Celestial, through long hours on the smooth wooden floor, under the gaze of the warm Illio sun and his father's approving eyes. So too had he learned his first spell, Friends, casting it over and over on a pair of hamsters until it was easy as breathing.

That memory, though, was bittersweet, as the mastering of his first spell had been the day that Andrimar had decided he was ready to be sent to The Spire. Before that time, Zevemar had assumed that he would simply learn from his father, staying with him in Alanla and studying every spell that Andrimar knew. It had been a childish expectation, he knew that now, but sometimes he missed those days, when the world outside was so much vague rumour and the world inside was a space of safety, books and education.

Not that he regretted going to The Spire, obviously, he'd met Io there and learned spells that he knew his father had never bothered with; evocations, illusions and, of course, Divinations. Sometimes he missed this house and its comforts but now it seemed he had the best of both worlds. He could wander the world with his best friend and still stop off at home to do what Io never wanted to, spend hours slaving over a single incantation.

It took time, hours and hours, to copy out the component lists, the historical usages and then much more time to get the casting down to an exact science. Illusory Script was fun, Zev concealing more and more sarcastic texts behind the illusion, and Knock was easy if irritating to test, Zev unlocking the front door with it and both of them covering their ears to drown out the booming sound that followed.

But after no more than six or so hours, the two spells were safely nestled in Zevemar's book, each carefully blotted and painstakingly inked. The father and son were happy, flushed with the triumph of learning the spells, until Zevemar looked up and frowned.

"Uhm... Where is Io?"