Traveling is a rare event, but on some level, it always requires the assent of the traveler. Some people think that means traveling can be controlled with will alone, but like most journeys, controlling where you end up is impossible.
-Traveler’s Guild analyst
After my audience, I was dismissed so that I could “rest and recover”. I’m far too amped up to go sit around and rest, so once the guards leave me in my room, I begin to go through my stuff. I have my training stones, my artifacts, and not much else. I would’ve preferred a room with more space to exercise, but I’m thankful I have my training stones to help develop my magic.
I start my involuntary rest and recovery by doing some light stretches and a few exercises to warm up my body. Nothing serious or anything that would give me stat gains, but just enough to get my blood flowing. Once done, I start training up my magical resistance skill. The Heartbran estate thinks they have me under their thumb, but I plan to have a few tricks to help me slip away if they put too much pressure on me. It’s not like I have anything tying me here.
As if responding to my thoughts, I hear the gentle ping of a quest.
I smile at the quest; this is just what I need to help me accelerate my training.
Looking at the quest, I pick the easiest to start with: I will level my skills. I find it strange that the quest also mentions learning a new spell form. Gaining spell forms has been quite rare up to this point. I look over at the bed where my training stones lie. They would make it far easier, but I’m unsure if I can properly use them in this environment. Would any spell form I channel be able to stand up to the mana disruption?
Shaking myself out of my introspection, I settle down on the floor and begin practicing my unstructured mana manipulation. I start with my ability to manipulate shadows. My hand raises and reaches out with my mana. I feel the mana begin tugging in all directions like it’s traveling amid an earthquake. I try to fluctuate how I channel the mana, making it denser, trying to thicken it or spread it out.
When I pour forth more mana into the shaded corner of the room, I feel like the quantity of mana stabilizes my grip on the shadows. Pouring out more mana is easy, but now that I’ve flooded the area with shadows, trying to control that quantity of mana with any finesse is difficult. Every time I try to concentrate on it, the mana forms a rounded blob instead of the tendril shadow. When I try to spread it out, the surface becomes turbulent before creating small ruptures that leak mana. Unwilling to give up, I ponder my dilemma.
An epiphany comes to my call. A flash of a lesson from the stolen memories. A classroom, academic robes, and a lecture on auras. The waking remembrance slowly starts to resolve.
---
A wizened elf stood at the front of the room, chalk in hand. He wore a flowing black robe, the epitome of elven academia. He drew the vague outline of an elf on the board as he lectured.
“A magi’s control of magic stems from the aura. The aura, its size, composition, and properties are determined by the affinities it is composed of. Those without affinity still retain an aura; however, it does not extend beyond the confines of the body. A mage with a large affinity will have an aura that radiates a greater distance from the surface of the skin. A larger aura not only benefits the owner with a greater control of mana in the environment but also reinforces the natural defensive qualities.”
As he continued to lecture, he drew a circle to represent the aura, followed by the symbol for the different mana affinities. “Unattuned mana can only exist within the aura. This is why those without a natural affinity but with items that give them a pseudo affinity will naturally convert a portion of incoming mana from spells into unattuned mana.”
He draws an arrow representing magic and has it branch off as it crosses the drawn representation of an aura. “All auras will naturally convert mana to their unattuned nature when replenishing the pool. The exception to this is those with affinity qualities in their aura. They naturally convert a portion of their mana pool to an affinity type. The mana pool will convert mana until it reaches homeostasis at the user’s system-designated affinity level. This indicates the maximum amount of that mana affinity an aura can contain.
“Those without an affinity or affinity users at equilibrium will naturally repel affinities with the exception of mind affinity mana, but we will cover the unique properties of mind mana in another lecture.
“It is common knowledge that affinities are determined from birth. The humans may be backwards animals, but their governance does have some benefit in its clumsy attempts to raise the affinity of its magi.
“In summary, a higher affinity correlates with a higher concentration of affinity in an aura, which is the fulcrum with which all magic is conducted. With enough affinity concentration in an aura, a magi can create an attuned aura or even the mythical domain, but we will cover those unlikely scenarios in another class.
“What is important to know is that spell forms are connected to the user but are modified by the aura. Cutting the mage off from the aura will cut control off the spell form, though there are a few insulated spell forms, like bolt spells, that will no longer require connection.”
---
The memory fades away as my mind buzzes with the implications of the lesson. My first thought is about my time on the wagon when the mana dissipated just above my hand. It seems my aura is not very large, but maybe the quest reward increasing my base mana affinities will help remedy that. The lecturer from memory said that all affinity is determined from birth, but that does not make sense.
I had been given a choice of three affinities after completing the dungeon, unlocked additional affinities by experimenting, and even acquired the blood affinity.
When I was in college, I had to take an intro biology class. We learned rule after rule that built the framework of the science, but then we were told there is an outlier case for every rule, a unique situation where the rule was wrong.
When asked about it, the teacher blinked owlishly before saying, “In biology, it is a rule that there is always an exception.”
It seemed like the biggest cop out ever, but that statement had held more truth than I would prefer. Maybe this was just another case of that? There is something else about me that is causing an exception to the rule. I will admit the idea of being a special case does inflate my ego, just a little.
I give up on changing mana density for now, and I resume shaping exercises. Turning to face the corner of the room, I reach out with my shadow mana and form the shadows into a dome. I shape the mana into a pyramid. With it stabilized, I try to morph the pyramid into a tower. It begins to elongate before it starts to wobble, my tentative grasp on the edge of losing control.
I concentrate on the feeling of being connected to the wobbling tower of shadow and feeling out the mana. I close my eyes to cut off other distractions. I continue to inject more mana in, feeling it grow like a balloon. I want to try to measure how much mana I can pour into the patch of shadows, but it will be a poor measurement with the mana interference. Deciding to try a different tactic, I begin pulling the mana into me.
As the shadow mana is sucked into my aura, a strange sensation overtakes me. I get a feeling of being full, but the fullness radiates across my whole body in waves. Accompanying the fullness is an impression between being cold or feeling insubstantial, but those words don’t do the sensation justice.
It feels somewhere between swimming underwater and that numb feeling when you first wake after a long sleep. I don’t feel weak; in fact, I feel lighter, stronger, and more agile. I realize my control of shadow mana is more stable. My mana sense is thrown off since some shadow affinity mana was absorbed into my aura. I stop pulling and push on the shadow affinity mana, the tower nearly doubles in height before it starts wobbling.
I repeat the process: infusing mana into the shadows, then pulling it back into me. It’s difficult pulling the mana back and forth. When the tower is three times its initial height. Taking a victory lap, I pause my efforts to review the notifications I got while practicing.
I can’t help the grin that creeps on my face as I see the growth in my resistance skill, but the next message sends my pulse racing with excitement.
I had made some major gains, but the last message really takes the cake.
The message is simple, but it’s by far the greatest jump in power. An affinity point means more mana to fuel stronger spells, a stronger aura for greater control, and a greater distance I can control spells. I’m not sure what the affinities are for other magi on this planet, but my affinities are too low for my standards. I want double-digit affinities!
Shaking off the awe, I take a quick glance at my stats. Next to my increased dark affinity is a “+1” that represents my temporarily increased affinity. I plan to repeat the same process with water affinity next. I want to try mind affinity, too, but I’m not sure how I’m going to be able to accomplish that task without a living creature around. I look at the door where I know guards are standing outside. Maybe I can use the guard to help train my mind magic? I immediately dismiss the thought as too risky.
It’s not just that I could alert the guards, or my training could be perceived as an attack. I don’t have a firm grasp on mind magic; most of my abilities work with broad applications of the mana. I need finer control if I am going to practice without the risk of harming others.
Darkness affinity resists motion, making it the perfect candidate to start my resistance training, but water magic is almost the opposite. Water mana wants to move and flow. Keeping it still makes it almost impossible to command in a normal environment. To make things simple, I decide to stick my hand in the water jar and swirl the liquid in a circle. This allows me to have the mana right against my aura to practice mana cycling.
I start with a finger-sized stream, gently pushing water mana out and then pulling it back in. The water mana is less cohesive and more prone to dispersing. I push a thread out, which immediately starts to shake, and right as it starts to break and dissipate, I wrap it around and pull it back, so it’s within my aura again. The water mana is much more conducive to the mana cycling. It could be because my aura is surrounded by water, the subtle increase in my aura with my affinity increase, or the natural properties of the water affinity.
I spin out one thread of water affinity mana, loop it back, and then, right as it’s coming back in, I spin out another. The water begins to spin as little eddies turn the water in circles. Slowly, gently, I’m able to connect a thread of water back and keep it moving. It wobbles and breaks after a few seconds, but after a dozen tries, I get another thread established.
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Concerned I might spill the water as it starts to spin faster in the bottle, I try to form a thread in the other direction and immediately fail. The water wants to go with the flow, and forcing it to go the other way isn’t easy. I can force it to go the other way by unleashing an overwhelming amount of mana. The amount of mana I’m using while training is far less than what I used in the shadows. It’s a couple of points, compared to the hundred points I sunk into the ball of shadows earlier, but I want to focus on control, not overpowering the problem with raw mana. The water mana threads are fragile, not like the elastic texture of shadow mana.
Too much weight from the spinning water will cause it to break apart. Then I have an idea to reinforce it. I begin to spin the water thread as I push it out of my aura. It spins with a screw-like motion as I move it within my aura before pushing it out into the water.
The water mana slips from my aura and cuts through the current with ease. Even the normal wobbliness caused by the mana interference is lessened. I continue practicing the strengthening method until I hear the door open, and a butler walks in with a tray of food. He looks confused when he doesn’t see me on the bed, chairs, or desk. When he sees me sitting on the floor, he scowls but doesn’t say a word. He puts the platter on the table and leaves the room.
I waddle over on my knees to see a plate with finger sandwiches and sliced fruit. As though remembering it’s hungry, my stomach rumbles. I dig into the food with gusto, making the sandwiches disappear before stuffing my face full of the sweet fruits. Once my stomach is appeased, I glance at my stat sheet again to see that my temporary increase in shadow affinity is now gone. Not surprising since it had been at least a few hours since I worked with the shadow blob.
I see a notification for another level in mana cycling and mana resistance. I look over the quest, seeing that I have completed the first condition, but no reward has been issued. It’s tempting to turn in the quest for the first reward, but I want to try to get all three. With a full stomach and plenty of time, I grab one of the training stones.
I try for the Constitution buff first. It won’t be as helpful as the other, which was reflected in the amount of gold it cost, but it should be the simplest. If the spell is contained within my aura, I’ll have an easier time learning it. I’m still having trouble controlling raw mana, so learning a new spell form outside my body is a long shot.
I grab the Constitution buff training stone and sit on the bed with my legs crossed. I fold my hands around the stone in a prayer position and focus on my unattuned mana. Despite learning how to manipulate unattuned mana, it’s still not as natural as the attuned mana. Slowly, I fill the channels in the stone. Though encased in my aura, my tenuous grip on unattuned mana and the mana interference in the room turn out to be too much, at least, at first.
With careful precision, I let the unattuned mana flow into the stone, filling the channels. I feel how the mana curves, following along the rune-like formation channels in the stone. Once I get the hang of the constitution mana form, it should be easier to create the pattern deep inside my aura, compared to the mana stone, where I have to battle the disruption effect.
The constitution formation has long sweeping curves that circle and entwine with itself. It looks almost like a flower with sweeping circular patterns creating petals that rotate in a circle. A sensation of mana locking into place solidifies the moment the Constitution buff is active. I continue to feed the completed spell form for a minute, memorizing the way the mana flows and observing the twisting three-dimensional shape of the mana construct before releasing it so I can try again. It's tempting to rush the process, but I move my mana as slowly as I can, beginning the process of filling the stone again.
After successfully using the stone a dozen times, I can consistently activate the spell form with my learning aid. On to the next step: creating the spell form without the training stone! I focus inward and begin to funnel mana into sweeping circles without the guidance of the stone. Despite the lack of interference, it’s much more difficult without the guard rails of the stone.
The pattern itself is not that hard, but keeping the mana in a tight, thread-like structure is hard. The first loop is easy as long as I continue to focus on it, but as I increase the complexity, adding in the additional loops and lines, the first loop starts to dissipate. Undeterred, I begin again from the beginning. I had a music teacher who once had a method called “rope” teaching.
The idea is that when you have a new technique or pattern of music you want to learn, you break it into pieces so small that it’s almost trivially easy to do. He would instruct us to play one note three times. Then he would have us play the first and second notes three times.
He would continually add one note at a time, each time having us replicate it three times. He mentioned some scientific studies about how repeating a thing three times is the key. I wasn’t sure about the study, but it is quite effective. So, I practice just the first curve until I can successfully do it three times, and then I add the next bend.
Once I have three circles and five bends, I stop adding. I look at the next segment and start the process with the first bend. I continue to build my understanding of each segment, and only once I can do them all consistently will I start to add the segments in the same method. I don’t progress to add the segments together; I don’t even get to finish learning each of the segments before I hear the butler open the door again. I look at the door to glare at the unannounced interruption, and it’s not the butler but a guard.
In a neutral yet stern tone, the guard states, “Lord and Lady Heartbran would like you to join them for dinner.”
Confused, I look up at the window to see the sun sinking below the tops of the trees, as dusk is settling in. I turn back to the guard and ask, “Now?”
The guard looks around the sparse room. “Did you have something else you were planning to do?”
I give him an incredulous look before hopping out of bed and grabbing my staff. The guard calls out, “You will not need that.”
I turn back to him and ask, “Am I barred from taking it with me?”
Keeping me caged in the room doesn’t make me trust them, and the idea that I might need it or need to run and leave it behind doesn’t sit well with me. I see the guard’s eyes flick over to the sword I hadn’t grabbed, the real threat in his eyes. I almost gave out a laugh. I feel through my empathy that he is weighing whether it’s worth it to try to get me to leave the staff, considering I hadn’t grabbed the sword.
To him, the sword would be the real threat, though he might have a different opinion if he knew my sword skills were trivial at best. After a moment, he relents, not willing to push the matter if I don’t bring the blade. I’m curious why he would feel so uncomfortable about me bringing a sword or a staff. I am only one man, and I am in their stronghold surrounded by knights and magi.
With my budding magic resistance, I am probably more dangerous with the staff, but I’m not sure I could even take on a weak monster. My situation will not stay that way for long. At the rate I am gaining skills, I might soon be stronger in the disruption aura than I was before arriving.
I think back to some of the books and movies I had seen and how quickly the tables could turn. One day I might be a prisoner, but tomorrow who knows? Would I take the opportunity to get revenge on him? The guard had little regard for me or any thoughts that I might take vengeance on him in the future; his feelings on the matter had vanished too fast.
Still, it gives me pause. I don’t need to make the same mistake he is making now. Being nice to the guards and other servants could be the first step to turning the tables in my favor. With great reluctance, I put the staff down. They had allowed me to keep my artifacts even though they could have taken them from me, and there would have been little I could do.
“Maybe I will keep my staff here if it is not that long of a walk,” I say, trying to inject as much nicety into my voice as I offer him the metaphorical olive branch. Despite feeling like it’s a mistake to leave the expensive artifact, I reassure myself that everything will be fine. Don’t worry, my precious, I will be back for you.
The guard straightens, “Not that long at all, magi.”
It was a small victory, one less headache for him and a little more respect for me. A fair trade in my book.
The walk down the hall is, in fact, quite short. I expect to be led to the receiving hall. Where I had received my audience with the Earl and Earless in the morning. Instead, we detour to a slightly smaller hall where three long tables sit. They form a “U” shape with the middle table being for the lord, lady, and Olivia. I see a few of the more finely dressed people on the one to the right.
On the left table are the knights, I know this because they are not wearing the same fine clothing, instead sporting a matching uniform with the crest of House Heartbran. They look a little rougher around the edges compared to the nobles, but the biggest clue that they are knights is Benjamin and Kurt sitting among them.
I’m led to a seat next to Kurt, who stands up and gives me a big bear hug. He whispers, “It is good to see you well, friend. It looks like they did not rough you up too badly.”
Kurt’s smile is infectious. “It was a close call at times. Did you hear about how I almost drowned in the tub?”
Kurt gives a hearty chuckle before sitting down. Now that I’m sitting, I have time to look around the tables. Olivia still looks like she was sulking. I had seen Benjamin on the way in, but he is at the other end of the knight’s table, close to Lord Heartbran. Across the way, the nobles chitter amongst themselves, although a few point at me as they gossip. Great…
Kurt must have seen me eyeing them. “Do not let thoughts of them ruin your night. The people matter know the truth.”
I glance over at the lord and lady conversing amongst themselves. “Yeah, I am sure you are right.”
In front of me is a plate with some cutlery and a goblet. I pick up the goblet and drink some of the watered-down wine. Taken off guard. I can’t stop the squint on my face as the bitter taste hits my tongue. I was never much of a drinker in my last life. I enjoyed the occasional glass of wine from time to time.
Most of the time, when I went out and the bartender asked which vintage, I would tell them to give me the cheapest thing they had, since I knew I would never truly be able to admire the qualities of a finer wine. I only had wine because it was a bit sweet and made the alcohol go down a little easier. The wine in my cup is far from being sweet, but a little alcohol might be what I need to make it through this dinner.
“Swallow the wrong way?” Kurt asks.
“Yeah, I tried to swallow with my mouth,” I say, coughing.
“Ah, it is not that bad. A little watered-down wine after a long day can help you relax.” He says as he pats me on the back.
I clear my throat, “Speaking of relaxing, how are things. I was not sure what I was expecting when I got here, but for a family of fire affinity users, their house can be very cold.”
Kurt’s tone goes flat, just short of being truly serious. “I am a simple knight, Jason, no need to use all the metaphors. You need to save that veiled talk for the nobles. The gods know they love it.”
He looks at me with a more jovial tone. “It’s not all that bad. They are parents who lost their only daughter. It is not hard to imagine how fearful they are, and lo and behold, a mysterious stranger comes to their door. Given the circumstance, I think they are being downright welcoming.”
I raise an eyebrow. “If you think this is welcoming, I might need to start refusing more invites.”
Kurt chuckles, “Aye, it is harsh, but Lord and Lady Heartbran are good folks. Now come, let us turn our thoughts to happier matters. We are alive, and tonight we feast.”
I raise my glass. “I can get behind that.”
We clink our glasses and drink. I look down at the table of knights clinking their glasses in a myriad of toasts. Across from us, the well-dressed guests show subtle signs of celebrating under their stuffy exterior. Smiles, laughs, and a few deep drinks of their cups after a particularly animated story.
“How are Olivia and Benjamin?” I ask Kurt.
“I haven’t talked to Olivia since I got back. She is resting from her long journey south. Benjamin and I have been rewarded by being given double duty. The guard captain chewed us out for not dragging her back the moment she left the estate. As if we could make the heir do anything, and that is not even considering she is a powerful dual mage that would knock us out flat the moment we tried to take her.” Kurt shakes his head in exasperation.
I look to the head table. Olivia has her head in her hand, and the other is idly playing with her silverware. The lord and lady have solemn looks on their faces, but every once and a while, I can see them look over at Olivia with a ghost of a smile. I think about how much my dad would love being among the knights, telling tall tales as he laughed and drank. I think of my sister and how she would take a few drinks, but then she would be right there with my dad. How my mom would be reserved with her drink, and how she would try to remain the image of propriety until my father would rope her in with his charismatic nature.
For a moment, I feel angry. I’m in a fantasy world at a real feast, and all I can think of is those I have left behind, who are gone from my life. I know that it’s wrong to be angry at missing my family, even as I have the thought. The ache in my chest is because I love them; I am thankful for it, but I still wish it didn’t ache.
After that moment of melancholy, I take a deep swallow of the bitter liquid from my glass. I turn to ask Kurt to tell me about the estate and growing up here. If he grew up here… I really needed to learn more about my good friend, but before we can speak, servants begin filing in with meats, cheeses, breads, and even a few vegetables.
Most of the food flows to the head of the household’s table for the first wave, but as servants continue to cycle in and out, the food begins piling up on the tables. The scent of the feast makes my mouth water, and I eagerly watch those around me to see when I can pounce on the banquet. It’s clear that there is some kind of decorum being observed by the way no one, not even the nobles, begins filling their plates. Once there’s food from one end of the table to the other, Lord Heartbran stands.
The servants continue to trickle in with more food aside from their quiet footsteps; everyone in the room is quiet. “Vassals of House Heartbran, I come to you tonight in celebration. My daughter, heir to the House, has had her first successful dungeon excursion. Truly, this is a momentous occasion that shows the bright future ahead of House Heartbran.”
What follows is a long-winded speech where he name-drops nobles around the room, congratulating and encouraging everyone except Olivia, Benjamin, Kurt, and me. It took me a moment to process it. At first, I don’t understand why he is glad-handing everyone who has done next to nothing. It takes me far longer than I would like to admit to realize this isn’t a celebration, it's a call to rally the house. A pep rally for the nobles.
He is saying something along the lines of, ‘Here, look, the heir is back, we aren’t in danger. In fact, now we are better than ever with rewards to follow.’
I can’t help but feel a little sour about not having any recognition. I tell myself I don’t need it, that it won’t change anything. Still, it sours the entire event for me. His toast is met with raucous cheers.
Despite being in an alien world, amongst the dishes I find a few foods that look familiar. Aside from the meat, it is a bit of a toss-up. I enjoy sampling a little of everything.
Once I start to slow down, I feel a metal gauntlet rest on my shoulder and clamp down. “Get up, you’re done. It’s time to return to your room for the night.”
I look over to see the guard with his other hand on his sword. I shove his hand off and make space between us. This guard isn’t the one who led me here. He’s far younger and doesn’t try to hide the sneer on his face. I was playing nicely, but I’m not going to play nice when someone has their hand ready to draw their weapon. The room around me starts to quiet as they look between me and the now slightly flustered guard. It seems he expected me to go along with him meekly, but now we’re causing quite the scene.
I’m tempted to pull water and blast the knight off his feet to teach him a lesson. I’m unarmed, but I’m not going to go down without a fight. Maybe he would take me to my room, or maybe he would try another power play on the way back, secure in the knowledge that I cannot use magic. I’m not going to let him lead me away into some dark corner to get stabbed or beaten.
Do I think he wants to cause me harm? No, not really, but he is not thinking with his head, and I’m not willing to bet he will do the sensible thing. Even if the sensible thing was right in front of him.
“Take your hand off your sword, boy. He is a guest of House Heartbran.” It wasn’t Kurt but an older man at the knight’s table with dark gray hair. He’s large, like a bear with a wide frame that speaks of strength. The guard immediately releases his sword like it bit him, but I see a burning hatred in his eyes aimed at me.
Then I feel Morgana in the back of my mind, gearing up to pounce on the guard despite being in the middle of the dinner, in front of the nobles, knights, and Olivia’s parents. It takes me a moment to locate her; she’s on the roof peering through one of the windows at us. It’s dark now, so she isn’t easy to see, but I realize this could quickly spiral out of control. It takes all my strength not to face her. I don’t think an undead flying down from the roof would be well-received.
'Stop, do not attack.’ I receive back a restless desire to pounce on a perceived threat, but she backs down.
The room starts to grow quiet until Lady Heartbran speaks up, “It seems there has been a misunderstanding here. We have prepared for Jason to journey into the house dungeon in the morning. Wilders can misinterpret things from time to time. Jason can, of course, stay if he wants.”
The words, like the rest of the party, aren’t meant for me. I might be the aggrieved party, but she’s more worried about the perception of the nobles. I pause, letting the tension rise before saying, “I think I am quite tired and will retire for the night.”
I head back to my room, feeling my skin crawl as the guard has a swamy grin. I can feel he wants to reinforce the lesson, considering giving me a bruise or two for his trouble. The arrogant man never knew how lucky he was as he walked under the specter of death the entire way back to my room.
