Chapter 14:

  Eli started his testing with the basics. These were the building blocks all mages would be instructed and evaluated on in those first days at the academy. He had known how to cast the basics since he was six years old in his first childhood. He was as familiar with them as he was with his own name. So why begin there? Because he could acknowledge that while he was a phenomenal mage when it came to his affinities, he was merely good at the rest. That was absolutely unacceptable.

  For most awakened, the basic four were the most common elements. Almost 93% of all mages had a water, earth, air or fire affinity. They were fundamentals for a reason. The more a mage formed a specific weave, the more ingrained that weave became. When that weave was foundational to one of the most prolific elements then it was imperative that he was better than just ‘good’ at manipulating it. Familiarity bred complacency, and because the academy basics didn’t really cover his personal strongest affinities, he hadn’t paid them the attention they deserved the first time around. At least not in more than an academic sense, and that was not something he could tolerate.

  The last time he’d gone through school he had been top of his class in everything except physical combat and mana control. As he was now, he would thrash even the instructors at pure mana control or using his affinities. What he couldn’t guarantee was that he would be as outstanding with the basic elements. It was unacceptable. Especially considering that he would not be primarily using his affinities this time around. Instead, he would need to become just as proficient in Earth, Water, Fire and Air magic as he was with spatial or ‘pure’ mana. He needed to appear exceptional, not unique, but strong enough to dominate. To do that he he had to be able to beat those scions who were born with core-four elemental affinities. Pehaps not with raw power, but at least with speed and control. It had to become effortless.

  A spark of fire formed in his palm, burning uniformly without flaring up or sputtering. It was controlled heat. Within the spell he could feel the fluctuations and tiny inconsistencies. Was the spell beautiful, certainly, did it look perfect, definitely, but Eli knew, and anyone strong enough to sense external mana would know that there were tiny flaws everywhere. From inefficient ignition, inconsistent distribution, and overcomplicated spell weaves that attempted – and only somewhat succeeded – to manually fix the flaws.

  It was like the magical equivalent of poorly cooking a steak, then adding sauces and spices to mask the flavour instead of just becoming a better cook. Both were edible, sure, but one was clearly superior to the other.

  Eli summoned a small spatial distortion for comparison. A tiny sphere bent the space around his outstretched palm, and he couldn’t help but deflate at the difference. Despite the spatial spell being significantly more complex than the fire one, there was a clear and appreciable difference in efficiency, simplicity, stability, and structural integrity. Had he truly neglected the primary elements so much? No, he realized. He’d simply been that much more dedicated in pursuit of spatial mastery.

  He dismissed both of the spells and moved on to water. He pulled water from his surroundings, careful to exclude all forms of life – it was a mistake he’d seen a poorly trained colleague make only once, to horrifying, if predictable, results. A blob of water hovered above his palm. He played with the forms of water for a bit, smushing it into a disc, then rotating it, then splitting it into little blobs before thinning them out and forming a dozen little needles of ice. The structure was sound, if overly complicated.

  One of the most basic tenets of spell craft that mages were taught was that the most effective spells weren’t the ones with complex weaves, and casting patterns, but the simplified ones that could consistently produce the same effects. Simplifying a spell was often just a matter of time, and familiarity. The extra bits were like a training saddle for a mount. First time riders would benefit from the extra help, these redundancies were meant to correct for errors. They were the inbuilt fail-safes and protections from catastrophic failure.

  After a while however, weaving a spell became as instinctive as keeping balance on a mount, except instead of swapping saddles, a mage would pare down their weave bit by bit until they had only the threads they required to cast and nothing more. It was an intensely personal, and often lifelong process for a mage.

  It is why Eli’s ice spikes were not nearly as elegant as the water discs. However, they were packed with more than enough mana to do some serious damage. The efficiency was a nightmare, but that was something he could work on. For now, he was getting a benchmark of his power he reminded himself as he cycled through earth, and finally air before circling back to fire.

  Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road.

  In his last life, people had always found it funny how he could be so good at light magic, but so mediocre with fire.

  ~

  Hours had passed as he cycled through each element again and again. Every time he re-cast an element he tried to do it better, cleaner, more refined. Each cast was an exercise in restraint. Efficiency, efficiency, efficiency, once more became his motto. There were no grand arcs of flame or lances of ice, instead Eli worked on using the fewest possible patterns to the greatest possible result. No wasted power.

  When the sequence was complete Eli reached into the spatial pouch he had secured inside his clothes and pulled out a small but thick leatherbound notebook. It was a tome he had unofficially dubbed ‘Thoughts and Plans for how to Prevent the Hostile Annexation of the World, and the Enslavement of All the People Living in It’. Okay, so the name was a work in progress, and it was definitely a mouthful, but it felt the most accurate, so he kept it.

  Pulling out one of his favourite enchanted pens he scribbled out the formulas for his weaves; his estimated output, efficiency, and any other relative metric he could think of. He used his distortion sphere as a baseline to measure the other elements against. Pages filled quickly with his shorthand. There in his neat, tight script were notations on circulation speed, mana drain, dexterity of execution, weave complexity, associated output, and a ‘notes’ section meant to account for variances or weave specific commentary.

  He was careful to never put obvious hard numbers in his notes; he wrote in coded language that only he could decipher. His hand moved easily across the page. This code had been born in war, a system he could recall years later with a glance. The thought that he was currently the only person who could read it sent a jolt of melancholy through him, but that emptiness was chased by stubborn hope.

  He wasn’t na?ve enough the think he’d never need it again, but the idea of why the shorthand might need to survive this time around made him eager to push harder.

  He repeated the drills again, then again, and than again still until the pathways in his body became familiar enough that by the end he was casting almost automatically. Each repetition reinforced the basic pattern and helped to build some of the reflexes that would help him further refine his casting.

  Each time his mana dipped below half Eli would stop, record any progress in the notebook, and wait until his mana was mostly full before continuing.

  Once he hit a point of stagnation with his basic manipulation practice, it was time to truly push himself. He could see his level of proficiency (or lack there of) with each element of mana, but just what could he do with it?

  Eli ran, boots digging into earth, a steady stream of mana flowing through him, reinforcing his body and bolstering every movement. His stride lengthened and his speed quickened, he could have gone even faster if he’d dipped into his spatial magic, instead he drew upon the wind, allowing it to bolster him from behind and streamline the path forward. At a turn he pivoted sharply, moving the earth beneath his anchoring foot instead of simply twisting his body. The abrupt directional change nearly threw him to the side as he quickly used the wind to once more steady him. Something to work on for sure.

  He shifted to strikes and defences. Punches, kicks, sweeps, guards. He pressed mana into each punch; he began with infusing earth into his skin in one of the few elemental techniques he’d used greatly in his past life. It not only let him hit much harder, but it also reinforced his defences. His blows were deadlier, and he was much more durable. The only downside was the slight stiffness he felt wherever the spell had been cast.

  What if he used a cage of air to help move his limbs? No, at least not yet. It was still too jerky and inefficient. He was much more likely to hurt himself that way than increase his agility. Besides, unlike his affinities which felt like manipulating his own limbs to use, working with earth and air took up a significant amount of his mental energy. It was something that would get better as his body and channels developed, as well as with time and practice, but for now, it was incredibly taxing.

  Instead of using wind to supplement his movements, what if he used it to create resistance? Mana pressed against him with each move he made. His body strained against his own magic, training both his mana manipulation and his muscles and mobility at the same time.

  Efficiency, sweet, glorious efficiency. Could he achieve the same outcome with less mana invested? What about targeting only the part of his body that was moving, as it was moving. He would push and push until it was second nature. What he lacked in talent, he would make up for with control. What he lacked in affinity, he would make up for with precision. What he lacked in force he would supplement with finesse, and what he lacked in refinement he would supplement with overwhelming power.

  He certainly couldn’t do it all, but he could practice until what he had was better than enough. Everything else would come down to mana; mana control, mana refinement, mana quantity, mana channel development and reinforcement, and just how much his body was could handle. All of that would take time, but he was starting early. It had to be enough.

  By the time he stopped training sweat darkened his tunic, and his chest heaved with effort. Still, there was a faint, satisfied smile on his face. The room for improvement was obvious, but so was the arduous path forward. This body would adapt, his capacity would grow, and his foundations would be stronger than before. He rested for only as long as it took him to cool down and replenish his mana pool before he was off again.