Chapter 6 - Mana and more

  I could not stop remembering how beautiful my time in the family garden had been. Even with my eyes closed, the world had unfolded around me in a way I had never experienced before. It felt as if something within me had awakened, something that allowed me to feel the shapes and movements of the world without sight. I could sense the dark blue mana motes drifting along the stream beside our small pond. They moved like tiny sparks of twilight that whispered as they flowed. I watched, without seeing, the cerulean colored mana that fell with the snow outside the gazebo. Each mote fell gently, settling on the frost-kissed ground like playful fireflies made of winter.

  The environmental mana called to me. The frost and snow mana I had grown familiar with recognized me in return. It felt like rediscovering a long-lost friend. A warmth bloomed in my chest at the sensation, both comforting and exhilarating.

  Then I looked up.

  Lightning mana. Pure, piercing, furious lightning. It streaked across the mountains in the distance, and the moment I sensed it my entire body vibrated. Something primal inside me reached for it, desperate and hungry. I stared at the brilliant, cutting color of it. Then I heard the sound.

  CLAPPP zzz.

  I saw the bolt as it struck, and the light seared into my mind. It was a beckon. A gesture of invitation. A summons. Lightning was calling to me, and it wanted me to answer.

  The pain came too quickly. My eyes felt as if they had been sliced open by a star. I tried to breathe, to accept what I had seen, but the brightness burned through everything. My thoughts scattered, and before I understood what was happening I felt myself falling into darkness.

  I stirred awake sometime later, the memory of that blast still throbbing inside my skull. I tried to lift my head, but a rough and calloused hand pressed me back down into the pillow.

  "Rest, son. You are tired."

  My father. His voice sounded both relieved and worried. I opened my eyes, only for agony to stab through them. Even the faintest sliver of light made me recoil.

  "You damaged your eyes badly, darling. Please do not try to open them." My mother's voice quivered with worry. "Doctor, can you bandage them now that he is awake?"

  Her request was not a request at all. It was an order clothed in fear.

  "Of course, Baroness" the doctor replied. "Young lord, allow me to raise your head. Keep your eyes closed."

  I nodded weakly. The doctor worked with careful hands, winding soft cloth across my face. I sat still and silent, listening to the faint rustle of fabric and the sound of my own breath.

  When he finished, my father spoke again.

  "When the guards found you, they reported that you were screaming. Your eyes were bleeding. There was no sign of intrusion. Lance, what happened to you? Be honest."

  I swallowed hard. My throat was dry. I told them everything. I described the garden, the motes of mana, the colors, the sensations, the impossible beauty of it all.

  "I did not understand what was happening at first," I said. "But then I remembered the book you gave me, Mother. The one about mana visualization. It described mana as a hue or as motes of light that gather around things. I could see that. I could feel it moving. The snow mana danced, and the cerulean lightning mana felt viscous and alive."

  I spoke more slowly as I explained the parts leading up to my collapse. I did not mention the system notification. That was something I needed to think about more before revealing it.

  Father inhaled sharply.

  "Son, are you telling me that during your meditation, you could see mana?"

  "Well, I could not see it with my eyes," I answered. "But I definitely sensed it. My eyes were closed the whole time, but it did not matter. I could feel my surroundings and the mana in the air. It was incredible."

  Silence settled over us like frost.

  "Doctor, leave us," my father ordered.

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  The doctor bowed and left quickly, closing the door behind him.

  My father began to pace. I could hear it in the shifting of his boots on the floorboards.

  "Lance, do you understand how unusual this is? An eight-year-old child opening his mana sensory field?"

  My heartbeat quickened. Mana sense. That was the term the system had used before it changed. Before it evolved. The system had still not responded to my mental calls.

  "What is mana sense, Father?"

  "It is as you described. Although your ability is still very basic, mana sense is the perception of ambient mana. Most do not develop it until well after their ascension.

  I heard him stop pacing. His voice dropped lower.

  "Son, did anything else happen?"

  I hesitated. Not because I wanted to hide it, but because I did not know what it meant. Still, keeping it to myself would only cause trouble later.

  "Yes. Right before I passed out, while my eyes were bleeding, I saw something. It was a flash of blue. A box. Like a message box that appears in a storybook. It said something about a system notifica—"

  Father’s hand covered my mouth.

  "Keep the blindfold on, but speak no more. Not now."

  I froze. The weight of the moment pressed down on me. I had no idea why the term frightened him so deeply. I lay back, breathing slowly.

  My mother leaned close. Her voice softened again.

  "Do your eyes hurt, my son?"

  I rolled my eyeballs behind my lids, testing them.

  "No. I can move them fine, and there is no pain. They were only sensitive to the light when I first opened them." The sensation reminded me of having my eyes dilated during a checkup back home. Everything had been too bright, too sharp, too overwhelming.

  "Good," she whispered. "We will talk again tomorrow. For now, you must rest. Margo will bring you dinner shortly. Goodnight, my son."

  Their footsteps retreated. The door closed. The lock slid into place.

  And I was alone again in the dark.

  The Lord and Baroness Loren walked side by side down the main estate hallway. The space was long, with high arched windows overlooking the snowy grounds outside. A faint chill slid across the stone floor despite the fireplace at the hall’s far end. It was usually a calm place, but tonight the air felt tense.

  "Lafiel, this is unprecedented." Lars spoke quickly, his voice low and urgent. "A mana sensory field awakening before ascension is rare enough. For him to perceive lightning mana in that volume, at that clarity, he must have a blessed lightning affinity, and a natural compatibility far beyond normal, not to mention ones to have seen the System before their integration all have had one thing in common."

  Lafiel squeezed her husband’s hand, her touch steady and warm.

  "Has he shown any elemental ability during training? Any sign at all that he possessed the potential for such power?"

  Lars shook his head. His silver hair shifted across his forehead.

  "No. His training has been mostly physical. I only allowed him to hold a wooden sword this year. His instincts are sharp, sharper than many of the academy trainees we recruit. But he has never shown any affinity work, not even the slightest hint of mana manipulation."

  This was difficult for him to admit. Lars Loren was a man shaped by war and storms, someone who rarely allowed fear to touch his thoughts. Yet now he had a faint sheen of sweat on his brow.

  "Our son will be fine, my love," Lafiel said. Her tone balanced firmness and comfort. "His father is one of the youngest Tier Five lightning wielders on the continent. The North's White Wolf should know better than to doubt his own blood."

  Lars groaned.

  "You know I hate that title."

  She smiled faintly.

  "You earned it."

  A quiet chuckle escaped him despite the worry.

  "I will speak to Sir Darvish. Starting next week, he will train Lance personally. We need to know what else the boy can do now that his mana sense has awakened."

  Lafiel nodded.

  "Tomorrow, both of us will speak to him about the system notification. You know what the old wars stated. Everything our son told us has hinted at him being a Prime. A being of transcended potential Lafiel."

  Her gaze hardened.

  "We must handle this carefully."

  "Yes," Lars replied. "We must."

  Far above the snow-covered town, higher than the jagged mountain stone and the swirling winter clouds, there lay a charred and blackened spot on the tallest peak. Lightning had struck that place countless times. The stone was cracked and glazed from heat. The scent of ozone lingered like a ghost.

  CLAPP zzz.

  The air shattered. A ripple of electricity crawled across the mountaintop.

  "Hmm. Did he see try to gaze at me... using his mana sense before he even formed a Mana Core?"

  A snow leopard padded forward, stepping out of the fading remnants of the lightning strike. Its fur glimmered with white brilliance, and its claws shone with a deep arctic blue. Sparks danced at the corners of its eyes.

  "Curious! Its been so long since the North has birthed a Prime, hell there are only a couple roaming around these days!"

  "Siruis, please tell me you are not actually thinking of going down there." A clear, exasperated voice called from behind.

  The leopard turned its massive head.

  "By the old gods, Mirium, must you follow me everywhere?"

  A majestic avian creature stood on a nearby outcrop. Its feathers shimmered like shards of frost caught in sunlight. It laughed, a sound like ringing crystal.

  "If I did not, who knows what trouble you would cause. And besides, the boy has indeed been blessed by lightning. He is not ready for your presence. He still has two years until his ascension. I will not allow you to see him until then."

  Siruis growled softly.

  "Very well. I will wait. But only because I agree with your reasoning, not because I am listening to you."

  Another bolt struck the summit.

  CLAPP zzz.

  Both creatures vanished into the light, swept away on a current of thunder.

  The mountaintop grew silent again. Snow drifted across the stone. The cold wind whispered along the cliffs. Only the mountain watched, ancient and waiting.

  And somewhere below, in a quiet room with shuttered windows, a young boy slept beneath a bandage of white cloth, unaware that the attention of far greater beings had already settled upon him.