James glanced down at his hands, noting the faint swirl of glimmering specks that hovered around him. He could see around him but not anything in him, just like in the Echoing Hollows.

Elia gestured for him to follow her closer to the water. “Okay, let’s get into the reason we came here. I’m supposed to teach you to dampen your aura. It’s a technique that most novices learn alongside basic mana control. But in your case, we need to be especially cautious.”

She flicked her wrist, summoning a small orb of shimmering teal mana above her palm. “Hiding your aura is about controlling your internal flow of energy—like flattening it out, tucking it into a neat shape so it doesn’t leak or spike. Doesn’t matter if you’re a swordsman, mage, or whatever. Most professions learn some variant of it, especially if you want to move stealthily through areas full of monsters or in the presence of other people who can sense magic.”

James nodded. “I— well, tried to learn some basics about controlling my flow, but it’s more about channeling, not hiding. If you count pushing mana out into the world with no purpose channeling.”

Elia managed a thin smile. “Channeling is good for actual casting or reinforcing your body. But if you want stealth or to not look like a bright flame on a dark horizon, you need to suppress that channel. Here, watch.”

She closed her hand around the orb in her palm, and James saw through {Essence Sight} how the teal threads around her began to flicker and then go dim, like a lamp turned down.

“Now, the simplest approach is to tighten your will—like holding your breath—but that’s only a short-term fix. If you’re in this rift for a prolonged time, you need to learn how to do it subconsciously. Either that or take the {Aura Control} skill or a variant thereof” She released her hand, and the orb of teal reappeared briefly before winking out entirely.

James took a breath. “So… how do I start?”

Elia nodded at the stream. “We’ll use a focusing exercise. Water is good for aligning your spirit, especially if you can see its flow. Take a seat on that flat rock there.”

He did as instructed, settling on a smooth, lichen-covered stone near the stream’s edge. The chill of the rock seeped through his trousers, but it was strangely soothing. The rift’s air seemed to swirl in eddies around them, and the melodic burble of the water helped calm him.

Elia sat beside him, crossing her legs. She gestured for him to do the same. “Close your eyes—unless you’d prefer to keep them open in {Essence Sight}. Sometimes visuals can help, sometimes they distract. Find what works. Next, focus on your breathing.”

James inhaled slowly, letting the crisp air fill his lungs. He activated {Essence Sight} just enough to see the faint shimmer in the surroundings, then tried to settle into a rhythm— {Strategic Tranquility} helping to keep calm, Breathe in for four counts, hold, breathe out for four counts, hold.

Elia’s voice, low and soft, guided him. “Now, imagine your aura as a shell around you. Feel the boundary of your body. Every time you breathe in, the shell expands. Every time you breathe out, it contracts. Try to shape it so that it’s flush with your skin—no spikes, no flares.”

James did his best. He visualized a translucent sphere around himself, an extension of his inner energy. On the first few tries, he could feel something slipping at the edges, as if his “shell” had holes, letting energy leak out. Occasionally, he’d see a swirl of bright Essence dance across his vision as his concentration wavered.

Elia spoke again. “Don’t get frustrated. You’ll only tense up and that makes it worse. Let it flow. Breathe, fill, hold, empty.”

Minutes passed like this, the hush of the forest draping over them. James tried to lock onto the sense of the water’s cadence—so constant, so purposeful. He remembered his dad saying once that the difference between a chaotic aura and a calm one was akin to the difference between a turbulent wave and a gently flowing stream. Both contain energy, but in very different states.

Slowly, James realized the swirling motes around him were beginning to settle. The shimmering haze near his torso grew less erratic, more contained. He opened his eyes fractionally, glancing at Elia. She gave him the smallest nod of approval.

“Good. Keep going. Dampen it further,” she encouraged.

James pushed deeper into that calm headspace. The rift’s subtle hum receded into the background of his consciousness, replaced by the steady in-out of his own breath and the quiet whisper of the stream. He pictured, in his mind’s eye, drawing in every stray thread of Essence, tucking it close, sealing it behind an invisible barrier.

Something shifted inside him, like a puzzle piece clicking into place. For an instant, he felt disconnected from the world, as though the swirling energies that had been feeding him were now blocked. His skin tingled. With {Essence Sight} active, he observed how the small arcs of golden aura that had hovered around his arms diminished, fading to near-invisibility.

Elia smiled more openly now, her expression relieved. “That’s it. It’s not perfect, but you’re getting the idea. Now, hold that state, gently—like you’re holding a precious stone in your hands. Don’t crush it with tension, but don’t drop it, either.”

James nodded mutely, trying not to break his concentration. His heart pounded with effort, and sweat beaded on his forehead despite the morning chill. It was harder than it looked to maintain this new equilibrium.

---

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They continued like that for some time—minutes or hours, it was hard to tell in the rift. James would occasionally lose focus, letting the aura leak out or spike, and Elia would calmly remind him to breathe and re-center.

At one point, Jackson appeared again, or perhaps he had been watching them unseen. He offered no commentary, merely gave a low whistle of acknowledgement when Elia quietly indicated James was making progress. Then Jackson slipped away like a specter.

Eventually, James’s head began to pound from the unaccustomed strain of simultaneously viewing the world through {Essence Sight} and trying to compress his aura. He closed his eyes, letting the skill fade. Darkness washed in, and he exhaled in a flood of relief.

Elia tapped his shoulder gently. “You did well for a first session,” she murmured. “We’ll keep practicing. The more natural it becomes, the better you’ll handle it when the rift’s mana starts surging. But that’s enough for right now.”

James opened his eyes, looking around at the forest that no longer shimmered quite so vividly. Even with normal sight, everything in the rift seemed vibrant—colors deeper, shadows longer. “Thanks,” he said softly. “For taking the time.”

Elia shrugged, though her posture relaxed. “Well, it’s not like I did it out of pure generosity. If you’re lighting up the place like a festival bonfire, that puts all of us in danger.” She offered a wry grin. “But still, good job.”

A comfortable silence settled over them, punctuated only by the gentle sound of water streaming over rocks. Then James recalled the earlier confusion.

“So… about this skill,” he ventured hesitantly. “{Essence Sight}. It’s Saffron Rank. But you said that’s unusual. Why does it matter if it’s more specialized than {Mana Sight}?”

Elia rubbed her chin. “Right. We might as well fill you in.” She paused, perhaps collecting her thoughts, then began.

“Most people, when they awaken to a vision-based skill, either have {Mana Sense} or the more direct {Mana Sight}. {Mana Sense} is just a gut feeling of mana presence, while {Mana Sight} actually reveals the flows—like seeing faint colors around spells, magical items, that kind of thing.

“But {Essence Sight} is the stage beyond that. It’s more foundational, letting you perceive the primal stuff that underlies mana. If mana is a shaped or directed form of energy, essence is the raw fabric, the root. Some texts even say it’s the building blocks of existence. Having {Essence Sight} can eventually branch off into specialized sub-skills—like {Affinity Sight}, where you can see the elemental alignments, or even rarer ones.”

She shifted, brushing some dirt from her boots. “And you said it’s Saffron Rank. That typically means you’ve already advanced beyond the initial stage. Skills typically start at Ashen, level up, and eventually evolve to Saffron, Viridian, Cobalt, and Crimson. Those are the known ranks, though some legends speak of ranks beyond that.”

Elia continued, “When a skill hits a new rank, it’s a qualitative leap. A jump from Ashen to Saffron can massively increase the skill’s potency, sometimes even changing its name or adding new functionalities. So for you to start at Saffron is… well, it raises questions about your background or potential. It means you will have an advantage over anyone who had to go through an entire tier to attain what you already have.”

A slight unease gnawed at James. Manny commented that Crimson skills shake kingdoms but this was just a Saffron skill. It was a mana skill though and bringing to remembrance the details of his titles:

Title: Convergent Soul (Crimson)

* Your soul is composed of two distinct entities that have successfully merged.

* Gives you a unique affinity for adaptation and learning, allowing you to absorb experiences and abilities at a rate greater than most.

And

title - Mana Harmonization (Cobalt)}

* Due to the nature of your merged souls, you have the ability to harmonize essence from different sources, making your mana manipulation far more effective compared to others. This also provides passive resistance to essence toxicity.

Now, seeing how shocked Elia was, the puzzle pieces started to form a bigger picture with how these impact every aspect of his walk on this new world.

“Huh,” James managed. “I guess that’s good to know. But… is it dangerous to start at a higher level skill with more Tiers to go through?”

Elia shrugged. “That depends on who finds out. Some might see you as a threat, or a resource to exploit. Skills are power. Rare skills—especially ones that reveal the deeper layers of the world—can be more valuable than gold. If the wrong people suspect you can see things they don’t…”

She let the implication hang. James swallowed, fighting a wave of anxiety. “So I should keep this quiet.”

“That’d be wise,” Elia confirmed. “At least until you’re strong enough to defend that secret.”

James nodded, staring at his reflection in the stream. In the rippling surface, he caught glimpses of a face that still looked young—though the rift’s harsh days had left faint shadows under his eyes. It felt surreal that he might be carrying something so coveted.

---

They rose from the stream and decided to walk back toward the campsite. The dim haze overhead suggested that a few hours might have passed, though it was still impossible to discern morning from afternoon in the rift’s perpetual twilight.

On the way, Elia briefed James on how to keep practicing. “Try not to think about it too much,” she said. “The more you worry about it, the more your emotions will cause mana flares. Just keep your aura close. If you feel it spike—like if you get angry or excited—draw a few slow breaths. Press it down, like you did just now. In time, you’ll do it without even noticing.”

James took the advice to heart. He followed her in silence, occasionally using {Essence Sight} to check for monstrous presences though he felt he could trust the others to handle the scouting, he didn't want to get lax in his vigilance.

Soon, they arrived back at camp to find that Joey had woken and was absently poking at the dying embers of the campfire. Marcus, too, was sitting up, stretching his arms with a groan. He flashed them a tired grin.

“Thought you two might’ve gone off to scout or something,” Marcus said lightly. He had dark rings under his eyes, hinting at poor sleep. “Any trouble?”

Elia shook her head. “Not at the moment, but keep your guard up.”

James glimpsed Ser Loran just beyond the clearing, armor glinting dully in the subdued light. The knight was speaking quietly to Jackson, who seemed to melt in and out of shadows with effortless grace. Despite the tension in the air, James felt a faint spark of camaraderie. They were, in some sense, in this together—whatever “this” was leading them toward.

Marcus reached for a piece of dried meat from his pack, offered some to Joey, and then tossed a strip to James. “Might as well eat while we can,” he advised. “We move soon.”

James tore into the salted strip, chewing with mechanical focus. The tangy flavor helped ground him in the moment, pushing aside the swirl of thoughts about aura suppression, {Essence Sight}, and the possible ramifications of everything.

A ping from his status drew his attention from the meat.