I woke up feeling refreshed and renewed. The greater connection to my water mana still came as a shock as the massive load of information rushed into my mind. I gritted my teeth and endured the influx for a few seconds while waiting for the knowledge to be processed. The relief that followed made me grateful that I had developed my mind pathways as far as I had.

I couldn't imagine what it would be like for pure body or spirit cultivators. I didn't recall hearing them complain about headaches or anything of that nature. Maybe their areas of awareness acted differently for them. Or perhaps being inundated with information was unique to mind cultivators. I'd ask Squids if he ever showed up. Though I doubted his answer wouldn't be biased. So, I probably wouldn't ask Squids and search for the answer when I could. It just wasn't that important… but morning musings had their way of working themselves into the morning routine.

I hopped out of my ice shed, took a deep breath, and performed a morning stretch to welcome the new day and warm up my body. After a long, pleasant stretch, I recovered my fire. It only took a few breaths to turn the coals into flames. Luckily, there was enough dead wood from boarish activities that I didn't have to work hard to find fuel.

Gathering wood did take a few extra minutes because I practiced a few mana manipulation techniques on my fallen targets. The first was creating anchor points and binding the moisture inside the wood to the anchors. The attempts were clumsy at first, but after moving my thirteenth log, I began to feel like an earth wizard. Logs lifted and flew directly to their anchors, which happened to be the mana coalescing in my hand.

The technique was limited. I couldn't manipulate the flying object mid-air unless I created a new anchor and a connection. By that point, the log would've arrived at its destination unless I was standing further away…

What started as a simple chore turned into a moment of skill exploration. I wanted to know if I could hold an object in the air indefinitely by creating two high anchor points. I stabbed two spears into the bloodwood trees across each other. I was reasonably sure I could try the experiment without the spears, but I wanted to make my first attempts easy.

With the anchor set, I connected a log to the spiked tree on my left. The log ripped from my hand, colliding into the tree. The thud reverberated off the surrounding giants as if they mocked my failed attempt. Silly trees didn't understand that failure was but a step on the pathway to success. I recalled the log to my hands, established new anchors, and tried again.

This time, I deserved the trees' mocking for attempting the same thing and getting the same results. Still, it was good to be thorough when experimenting. I tried the same technique one more time. I concluded that I needed to be faster to set two separate connections simultaneously. The successful failure enabled me to pursue a new path.

I left the log sticking to the side of the tree and attempted to bind the second connection. I was half certain both or one connection would break, and I was sorta half right in the end. The second connection was created, and the first connection remained intact. The loyal log, however, continued to hug the tree it first connected with. I admired the log for its devotion and, at the same time, plotted to tear it away.

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As I examined the log, I realized it was less faithful than I initially credited it to be. It wanted to remain stuck to the tree it clung to, but there was a part longing to connect with its other anchor. Silly log. It didn't even know the other tree; it just felt it had a connection, and that was enough to tempt it away from its first bond. It had the desire; it just wasn't strong enough.

I could fix that. Desire was, after all, the first step to progress, or was it change… maybe regret. I shook the thought from my head. It didn't matter.

On the opposite tree, I created a second anchor using the same method of sticking an ice stake into it. The stake was as close to the other anchor as possible. Next, I tapped into the desires of the tree-hugging log and created another connection.

The log, as expected, drifted to the distant tree with two anchors. As it neared the halfway point, I added another stake to the single anchor tree and connected it to the moving log. My log's movement halted. I floated a freaking tree.

The spectacle wasn't perfect. My log wobbled under the strain of the anchors. I pushed the floating log, testing its stability. The wobbling intensified until the strain became too much, and the wood fell.

I practiced and tested several variations of the floating log. I discovered that, with six anchors, I could create a stable float. Which explained why a chunk of pork floated above my fire. My first iteration of the mechanism-free smoking technique had some faults. For one, the third anchor stopped me from rotating the pork. The workaround was easy but crude. That wouldn't do for a guide at the templar rank.

Minutes drifted by as I honed my spinning pork technique. The solution lingered close, slipping out of my hands at the last second when I tried to lock down the idea. Failure didn't deter me. I'd kill another boar if I had to. I was going to master roasting the pig without a stick before this loop finished.

The solution was as disappointing as the quest's excitement. It came down to where the connections were made. Instead of connecting the middle of the pig to the third stake, I had to create the connection at the same point as one of the first two. I lost some stability, which was not enough to be a concern, though, and the ability to spin the pig was worth it.

Putting the pig in a constant spin was another lengthy quest. The process suffered the same lackluster allure as freeing the pig. However, the result was a marvel of mechanical rigging and mana manipulation. Water ropes, though unconventional, came with their own benefit of being pre-lubed. Not that one should be in the market for lubed rope. That was just bad business. But if I thought I knew anything about mechanics, more lube meant more smooth, making my water chains a perfect fit for the task.

In my case, the task was spinning the pig with a connected rope that uncoiled due to an anchor pulling at its other end. When the rope was uncoiled far enough, enough slack was created that my second rope, which was connected to the pig, unraveled.

The two ropes created a cycle of winding and unwinding, spinning my pig the entire time. The added moisture was a bit counterproductive, but it only added a little extra cooking time. Besides, any camp chef knew the method to a good smoke was low and slow, and guides weren't anything if not a good camp chef.

'Come for the food, stay for the travels,' they'd say.

I was quite pleased with my progress in the few days of practice. Though the log-floating obsession completely derailed my agenda, I couldn't deny the gains. I had better control and a deeper understanding of my mana, and my anchors and connections were getting to a crazy point of precision.

I should be more excited about my aura and domain, but at the moment, I was fascinated by my old skill.