3. Fundamentals of Magic (Pt. 2)

“There is no standard of competency to a magician. There is only a desire to learn, to ask, and to seek. If you just want power then read a few spells, practice them to get comfortable, and you’ll do well enough to get by. Most magicians who are adventurers know the basics of their elements but never dedicate themselves to anything more. They are far too focused on just surviving to do so, or they’ve given up on learning more.” Yir waved her hand as she boringly spat out the basic answer. But when she came back, she grinned and placed her hand gently down on the Thaumaturgy book resting by her hip.

“Dedicate yourself to this craft. Polish your skills and truly put your heart into Magic, and you’ll find that there is much to it, and to you, than you ever would have thought.” Her eyes glistened with pride and joy as she met his eyes. In her look, he could see true happiness. She meant what she said. An honest response in hopes to give Jake the nudge that he needed, a nudge that he wanted.

“Are you having trouble?” She leaned into the book more. Enough to support her weight as she hopped up onto it again. Jake nodded, finally letting her in on a bit of his frustration.

“Cultivation. I just started to study it and it seems harder than what I was ready for.” Jake remembered that feeling of the raging flow inside of him. Just thinking about it unsettled him. Yir must have seen the look in his eyes. The smile on her face faded.

“First time seeing it, huh?” She asked, and he nodded. His hands squeezed together. He was unsure of how to move forward with the task. He could just try to coax the flow into submission or force it to calm but something about that felt wrong.

“Pretty, isn’t it?”

Jake blinked. “Pretty?”

“Such a harmless thing. Powerful and strong, but gentle and capable of being used for so many different things…” Yir extended a hand. Without a word, she created a small ball of light in her palm. “Our Mana Flows are all different. Some raging storms, some quiet seas. But all of them can be used for creation with just a little bit of coercing and a little bit of effort.”

The light went out as Yir’s smile returned. “Having trouble controlling it?”

“Yes,” he sighed. “Every time I reach out, I feel it push back. I feel like it’s struggling to get free as if it wants to burst out.”

“Baby steps, Jake.” She tapped the book and hopped off it. With a wave of her finger, the book lifted off the table. She approached him again and placed her hand tenderly on his cheek. “Continue to work on your bond with it, for that’s what it is. A bond. Develop that bond and cultivate it. Don’t force your mana into submission and make it listen to you. Treat it like a young child. Nurture its growth and it’ll calm itself in time. Okay?” She gave his cheek a soft tap. Jake nodded again.

“Yes, Miss Yir.” He felt a bit more confident now. He still wasn’t quite sure what specifically he would need to do, but he wouldn’t rush it. From Yir’s answer, he would likely figure it out in time.

“Good. Now then, go back to your studies. It seems I’m needed.” Yir stepped back and placed her hands on her hips. She looked up and to the right to where another fairy was descending. Jake looked up to see them and then stood up.

“Thanks, Yir.” Jake excused himself and stepped away. She grinned before her wings carried her away and up. The boy hurried back to the stairs and up to the fourth floor once more. As he returned to his study room, he spotted a fairy waiting for him by the door.

“Excuse me, Mr. Furrow.” The fairy extended a book toward him. “I found this at Yir’s instruction. She thought it would help you in your studies.” Jake caught the book in his hands and looked down at its red cover- ‘The Travels of the Wandering Sage’

Jake raised an eyebrow. The who?

“Uh, thank you.” Jake made sure to thank the fairy. He bowed at the waist before fluttering away, returning to his daily tasks. Jake carried the book with him into the room and sat down once more in front of the cultivation book. He stole a glance inside the first pages of the red book to get an idea of what it was about. An excerpt placed on the front page read;

A book dedicated to a dear friend, a man whose peerless wisdom and guidance helped shape me into who I am today. His struggles, his unending knowledge, terrible and witty jokes, and unwavering courage are captured in these adventures and stories. Or so I hope they are. From the day I met him until the day I lost him, he lived his life in the strangest way. He said it was all to find fun and joy in the World. He died with a smile. As someone who called him a friend, it is my wish that his dream came true in the end.

I write this story to immortalize him so that the world may never forget His name- Geralt Windsor, the Great Blue Mage of Winderhelm. Rest well, friend. One day, I hope we meet again.

Jake felt his jaw clench and he carefully closed the cover. He stared at the front of the book, at the title. Then, he politely set the book to the side. While he felt the desire to read it as Yir likely hoped he would, he wanted to read it when he was more ready for it. Something he felt he wasn’t yet. There was work to be done.

“Oh, wait.” Just before he delved into his subconscious-like state, Jake scrambled over to the table and plucked the hourglass from it. It was nearly finished with barely minutes to spare so he flipped it over and let it start over. It didn’t need to be accurate, as long as he didn’t lose the overall amount of time spent within the Library. Six hours had passed thus far. With it being nighttime, Jake would give himself another couple of flips before returning to the Overworld and inevitably back to his Auntie’s tent. After storming out on her, he figured an hour or two would give her time to calm down. That left him with fourteen hours to go.

“...That’s a lot,” he muttered. However, it was time he needed. The boy was short on it in the first place so he didn’t let himself complain. Instead, he just sat down and got comfortable. He was going to be sitting there for quite some time.

After just a few breathing cycles, Jake found himself diving into his mana flow once more. It came to him even faster this time. However, it was still just as rough inside of him. The flow roared with power and resisted him every time he tried to make any kind of contact with it. Calling it forth was simple enough. It responded when he had tried to enter and leave the Library so Jake knew it could be controlled. How, on the other hand, he began trying to figure out.

Yet with each tug, each squeeze, and every touch- Jake felt it kick and writhe beneath his grip. It fought him off at every attempt. There was no budging in this fight. For something that was ‘His’, Jake found it to be quite hostile. That’s when he remembered- he didn’t have mana before. Until just barely a few hours ago, Jake didn’t have mana flow or any traces of magic within him. The flow was newborn, fresh to the world. Sure, it was his, but it was likely struggling to exist. Jake found that sad.

The boy frowned and his breathing softened. As the mana flow screeched within him, he calmly reached out and simply pushed into it. He didn’t grab or tug. No, he let himself rest in it. He let the mana surge through his body as he let himself quietly float within its torrent. Slowly, he found breathing easier. The tension in his body lessened and the constant wailing in his ears faded. The mana flow continued to struggle. However, Jake simply acted as a cradle. He swayed slightly from side to side. The “hands” he used to touch the flow were gentle and soft. He worked to develop a direction for the mana to flow, guiding it through his body to give it a more proper way to move through him.

He eventually found his Source, located in his chest beside where his heart thumped. He followed the lanes the mana flow followed outwards, smoothing them out and gently coaxing the rampant mana into a more stable state. Like a crying infant or a defiant toddler, it kicked and continued to fight him. So, he remained patient. Each motion was deliberate and done slowly. Repetitively. Jake weathered the beatings and didn’t let the constant struggle deter him.

It wasn’t easy, and Jake grew tired over time. Whenever he felt himself become unsteady, the boy pulled away and took a short break. He’d move about the study room or take a short walk through the Library. Anything to get his mind out of his mana flow and give him a breather. When he was ready once more for a little fight with himself, the boy would sit back down and begin the cycle again.

One flip of the hourglass passed. Then another. Then another. Five flips passed before Jake finally made enough headway that he could truly see the difference in his efforts.

Compared to when he started, the storm was nothing more than a squall. The boy’s mana flow bucked and wiggled but it had grown comfortable and used to his touch. The flow was more organized now. Jake had been able to develop the more natural direction of his flow and felt it throughout his body, evenly now. There was no longer any excessive pressure in his chest and head. Now he could feel the mana moving through his legs and feet. He felt it tingle in his toes and his fingertips. It coiled in his arms, hips, and his head. It still leaked from various holes but there was far too much of it for his body to contain. No matter what he did, any attempt to box it in his body resulted in either failure to do so or he would feel queasy and sick.

He needed a solution to deal with the excess. He thought of forcing it out, of pushing it all out and trying to level out the amount within himself. The downside was that it would be wasted. Thus, Jake felt it better to optimize his mana flow. If there was excess mana that was just leaking out of him, then he would simply make space for it inside. The flow itself was rather thick but it was weak and fragile. It wasn’t dense and strong. With that in mind, the boy began working to compress the lanes that the mana flowed on. At the moment they were wide and mostly hollow. So, he began to slowly push them in. He squeezed on the flows and coiled them slowly in on themselves. Doing so caused the tubes to constrict. The flow fought back, yearning to return to a straighter, smoother state. But, Jake was methodical.

He started from the Source and worked his way outward. He kneaded the flow and with each twist, the mana would wriggle before calming again. Jake remained gentle but his soft coercions were now much firmer and much more direct. He didn’t force or push. However, he made sure the flow reacted the way he asked. Over time the twisted became easier and easier. He didn’t risk taking a break this time. He remained in place, focused until the job was done.

Each tube of mana that ran through his body was coiled tightly and shrunk down to ensure maximum efficiency through his body. The coils weren’t perfect nor were they truly optimized in a way that he was satisfied with. However, that was likely the point of cultivation. In time he would work to further reduce the size of those tubes. He would tighten the coils, shrink the passageways, and increase the number of tubes running through his body. All to maximize the amount of mana he could hold and increase the speed at which he could call it forth.

Except, the leaking still hadn’t stopped. There was far less escaping him now but the boy found it unsatisfactory to lose so much potential strength. He needed a way to control it and contain it. If he was at his limit inside, then Jake needed to find a way to contain it outside. The first thought that came to mind was the second skin of sorts. He thought he might be able to layer it on top of his skin, like a veil or a shroud of sorts. Yet, when he tried to do so, the mana just faded off and he lost touch with it the moment he tried to push it out of his body.

The boy’s lips pressed together and as he felt the frustration within him build, he also felt the connection to his mana slip. The boy finally opened his eyes and stared down at the hourglass in front of him. The sand had stopped flowing. The boy reached out to flip the glass and then stood up. He let out a huff before leaving the study room.

He was going to need guidance with this.