A Journey; A Guide

Lawrence stared at the hologram in disbelief. Blinking several times to ensure it wasn’t an illusion he was seeing.

I had no idea this technology was possible in this world…

“Or rather, the transmigrated one if you managed to get this far.” The hologram resumed. Standing tall as it stared past Lawrence.

As dust floated through the air, Lawrence walked back to face the hologram, waving a dust cluster out of the way.

“You must have hundreds of questions. Unfortunately, I can only answer a few.” Jacob paced around the room slowly as he cleared his throat.

“Why are you here? I bargained with the Principle of Creation, Assiah, to transmigrate a soul within my son to unlock the key inside him.”

Lawrence furrowed his eyebrow as he continued listening attentively, making a mental note of his father’s body language.

“I’m sure you’re surprised by everything you’ve encountered in this world so far. But I needed an outsider to become my son. One not bound by the rules of this universe and could have a different perspective is probably the best way I can describe it.”

Jacob leaned against the desk and folded his arms, pondering for a few seconds before resuming his explanation. “Unfortunately, it’s too soon to tell you the reason. To tell you would disrupt the flow of events soon to come.”

What was all of this alluding to? What events? Would this hologram reveal the origins of the Curse?

“Since you are here, you must be aware of the Curse of Black Thorns.”

At first, Lawrence was startled, thinking Jacob’s hologram could somehow read his mind, but he reminded himself that it was simply a recording.

“You must first remove the Curse above all else, and the only way to do that is to learn more of this world and find the lost records of this family.” Jacob’s expression turned grave as he spoke.

“Yeah, but what is the Curse?” Lawrence asked out loud, even though the hologram couldn’t hear him.

“To hide the secret of the Curse from the rest of the family, it’s only verbally archived. If you’ve seen through any of Lawrence’s memories, he doesn’t have the whole truth.”

Jacob lied to his son?

“The Curse acts more like a seal. Magic has different functions in the mind, body, and soul. The Black Thorns restrict the flow of mana through all three.”

If Lawrence’s mind and soul are gone, then only the layer of the body will be restricted.

“This is why I didn’t tell Lawrence the truth, because it would be impossible to bypass all three layers. The only way would be to sacrifice everything to Assiah, who frustratingly has a very inconsistent response time.” Jacob sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.

How cruel of a father to do such a thing…

“Even with all three layers, Lawrence had some leeway using very minuscule amounts of mana, so that means you have much more room for usage.”

“That’s a relief.” Lawrence crossed his arms as he continued listening and briefly looked at the dusty books and ornaments around the room.

“First, I must explain the fundamentals of magic. Maybe you already know them, but I’ll explain anyway.” The older man lifted his hand and manifested a fireball in his palm.

“Magic works like sound frequencies. Everyone has a unique signature frequency that sets them apart from others. Your soul produces it through mana, your mind acknowledges it, and your body channels it through the magic circuits that run alongside your veins.”

Lawrence looked down at his forearms, imagining the magic circuits through his skin.

“That’s the basics of it. You must hone your mana and make it flow through your circuits to your palms, which act as a catalyst for casting magic.”

It sounds simple enough, even though I know it isn’t.

“Get stronger, Lawrence. I designed Elpis’s Box to play the next recording once you can manipulate mana automatically.”

The record stopped, and the box fell onto the desk. Its light slowly disappeared until it was gone entirely.

Elpis’s Box, huh…that’s ironic.

Lawrence held his hand out towards the box, trying to mimic what he did with the lamp when he was with Bernard. After a few seconds, nothing happened, and he was disappointed, just as he had been last time. He tried a few more times, but still had no luck.

“Oh, Autumn Flame, grant my burdens a fiery wallow. Ignite.” He chanted as everything remained unchanged.

Sighing, he gave up, exited the dusty room, locked the door behind him, and headed up the stairs to his bedroom, wanting to get a fresh pair of clothes.

Lawrence undid his tie and unbuttoned his shirt. The bloodstains had turned a dark red. Setting it on his dresser, he stared intensely at the mirror.

He could barely recognize himself. Even though he hadn’t been in this world for long, he was already losing his sense of self.

Or was I Lawrence? The world ushered me into the role of Lawrence Blackwood, even though I have no idea who that is. I have fragmented memories, bloodied stains of time, and a plethora of inquiries.

Something welled up inside of him, feeling the need to vomit as his earlier actions began to sink in. Lawrence hunched over and covered his mouth, trying his best not to throw up.

After about thirty seconds, he managed to calm himself down just in time to hear the knock at the door interrupt his remorseful musings, quickly grabbed a new shirt, and slowly started to button it.

Bernard entered with his usual smile, and Lawrence gave him a slight smile in return as he finished changing.

“I heard you went on quite the adventure.” The knight spoke, taking a look around the room, then at the bloodied clothes.

“Indeed, I have,” Lawrence replied, redoing his tie properly to ensure it wasn’t a mess.

Echoes of the bandits’ screams and final moans before they died reverberated in his head as he pictured each one’s face. The scene almost haunted him, sending chills up his spine.

I had no choice. If I hadn’t killed those bandits, they would’ve killed me, or worse.

Lawrence’s sole objective was to convince himself of that or come to terms with what he’s done so it wouldn’t affect him in the long term. But killing people with his hand, much less in such a violent fashion, wasn’t going to be easy to shake off.

“You won’t be needing the tie,” Bernard said, leaning against the wall.

“What do you mean?”

“We’re going to be doing a little training.” He winked at Lawrence as he began to leave the room, indicating for him to follow.

Bernard led him to the back of the mansion, where a sizable, open cement courtyard was. To the right was a pile of swords and other things Lawrence didn’t recognize.

“What are we doing here, Bernard?” He asked, looking around as a flock of birds flew overhead.

“You asked about the Divine Tower, right?”

Lawrence nodded his head slowly, although he wasn’t much interested in the structures of outlandish belief systems used to control people.

“Since you seem to be able to use incantation-less magic, you have the prospects of becoming a powerful mage. And like I said before, you must be strong to be granted an audience with the Principles.”

“I understand.”

The pieces of the puzzle were slowly falling into place. The hologram recording was the first piece of a thousand or perhaps a million.

Things were too convoluted to understand, but at least someone laid out a path for Lawrence to follow.

“Are you ready?”

Lawrence nodded, readying himself for the incoming lesson.

“Good, so the first thing about magic is mana manipulation. This is the hardest part of a long course. Once you understand it, we’ll move on to magical combat and elemental manipulation. In between, we’ll work on practical skills and physical combat.”

“That’s quite a lot,” Lawrence remarked, although he already knew all of this, and allowed Bernard to explain it anyway.

“The mage who survives the battle has mastery of many skills. Back then, it was much different. But now, the nature of warfare has changed dramatically.”

Most of what the knight said made sense to Lawrence, although he wanted elaboration on the last part. “What do you mean?”

“There was a time when magic was noble. Combat was uniform, and everyone had specific roles depending on their skills. Since then, the world has become much more chaotic and more anarchic.” He looked up at the clouds briefly.

“Now, whoever lives and becomes strong is a warrior, whether you’re a knight, a noble, a simple mage, or a peasant. If you could not do one thing, there was someone stronger who could do it with what you already have.”

“Those who cannot adapt to the new world are fated to die.” Lawrence quoted a philosopher whose words he had previously seen in a book.

“Exactly. Even an old soul like me is always adjusting to the state of reality. Humans are unique in their ability to change. That’s what puts us above the other races.”

Bernard cleared his throat as he approached, putting his hands on Lawrence’s shoulders. “Now, let’s get back on topic. To manipulate mana, you must first be aware of its flow. Imagine a spiritual energy flowing around your body, almost like circuits, reaching every part of your body. You have to picture it clearly in your mind.”

Lawrence closed his eyes tightly to block all ambient light as he tried to picture what his teacher was describing. For a few seconds, there was darkness. As he focused even more, tiny white dots appeared, like distant stars in the night sky. A dozen turned into a hundred, forming an ethereal flow of energy. It was almost mesmerizing to look at.

“Good. Now that you’ve got a grasp of the image and assume control of the flow of your mana. You feel it in your core. Make it push out to every orifice of your body.”

Lawrence complied, as the light blue energy he felt within slowly diverged towards the space around him. A blue human-shaped form of energy formed within the landscapes of his mind in front of him.

The retired knight stood tall, nodding his head satisfactorily, as he continued to examine Lawrence. “Excellent. You’re using the most basic but fundamental technique a mage is required to use, Mana Sense. You can sense living beings that possess a magic frequency. As you master it, you’ll be able to proficiently analyze a being’s frequency, allowing you to sense their emotions, and at the highest level, anticipate their spell.”

This follows from what I can gather from Lawrence’s memories. A magic frequency is essentially a mirror of the soul, what makes a living being, living. It can read emotions, thoughts, and intentions all from their frequency. It’s like looking into someone’s heart.

Lawrence honed in on Bernard’s mana frequency, noticing it was larger than he thought, moving up and down sporadically.

Is he really that powerful? Even I can tell his strength by looking at his frequency…

“We’ll continue working on mana sense until you can use it at a standard level. Then we’ll work on the basic elemental traces.”

They spent the rest of the day honing Lawrence’s ability to efficiently manipulate mana with a bit of sword sparring for a few hours.

----

It was about 09:13 Night Standard as loud clangs of metal echoed through the Imperial Academy's towering halls. Moonlight poured through the tall, curved windows into the darkened area, and two figures clashed as they entered the dim light.

Arno’s katana made a ringing noise as it collided with the sharpened nails of a seemingly demonic humanoid creature.

Great Assiah, this creature is more durable than I assumed.

They continued to exchange a flurry of attacks as Arno chanted and manifested a wave of sharp ice spikes toward his opponent, which they barely dodged.

Without a second thought, the creature kicked the spikes, impaling its foot and causing it to bleed slightly. However, the shards flew into Arno’s face, temporarily blinding him.

It rushed him, scratching his cheek with its nails, which caused him to groan. Then, the creature fled, flying through the window and disappearing into the night.

Several guards entered the hall as they ran up to the lone student. “Arno! Are you alright?”

“Yeah, it’s just a flesh wound. But more importantly, check up on that girl.” He pointed at the girl who lay unconscious at the other end of the hall. She had a few scratches on her.

“You should inform the Chancellor of this immediately. We’ve got this from here.” Another guard instructed a healing mage to tend to the girl.

“Understood.”

Arno walked away, bringing his hand to his cheek to wipe off the blood as he examined it. He wiped it away with a handkerchief and stared at the crescent moon.

“Something is happening to this school. I can sense it.”