The sense of accomplishment had been a very conflicted kind of feeling, for Tercius while he was growing up.
On one hand, it entailed the pride he felt for the work he did, and sometimes that pride even encapsulated the result that came about from said work, though that happened only on rare occasions. More often than not, though, he felt sad that the work was over. Tercius had always thought that this sadness was the reason he procrastinated endings, extending the middle, the journey, to last for as long as possible. But if he was honest with himself, he could have ended things whenever he wanted, despite everything. He simply had no real drive to do so.
Since his rebirth, however, a few things had changed.
The easily spotted difference— tangible enough to have a real impact— of before and after rebirth was the environment he lived in. His old world had allowed a lot of room for procrastination, with physical security on a very high level and food and water aplenty… Somehow, it felt wrong to blame the environment for his personal failing of underwhelming self-control— especially when that blame came from someone like him, a man that preferred to minimize the influence of outside sources.
Yet it was true, nonetheless.
Now his drive to end things and move to the next one came from the uncertainty of tomorrow. Food had been in question since his rebirth, a few times. Physical and even mental security now came from another source, as well. From him. Now all of those things came from him. In a way, for the first time in his forty-two mental years, he was truly driven to take control over the reigns of every aspect of his life, aspects that in his old life he had given over to other people from the moment he was born.
Curiosity bubbled in him as he saturated all of his growing mana channels, and he wondered what would happen one day if all of his needs were met, by his power alone. What would he do if he didn't have to fear being killed by an errant arrow or made a puppet by some mentalist? If he could just grow food in minutes and collect water from the moisture present in the air?
He both desired and feared that such a day would come.
His old family had struggled to come to terms with Tercius quirks, often trying too hard and too quickly to make him more malleable to their ways. He hadn't been very receptive to what he felt as intrusions.
Tercius shook his head with a frown. Now was not the time for such thoughts. He had a Well to form.
"Let me check that," The Mistress said, and stepped closer to Tercius. She placed the medical instrument where his fingers had been a moment earlier and a hologram of his internal mana pathways appeared. Dozens of roots from nearby mana channels grew towards a single spot, almost ready to meet.
"Focus on this one here, do you see it?" The Mistress pointed at the hologram, at a small cluster of slightly lagging mana channels. She removed the cold illuscope from his bare skin and then positioned Tercius's index finger right above where the indicated mana channel should be. "Two— no! Make that three minutes! Be very precise, Pinky! You need to hit that spot there, you hear me?! No messing around! Don't make me dole out punishments! You there!" She pointed at Sior and the young man almost jumped from fright. "Keep the time properly!"
"Yes, Mistress," Sior said nervously and flipped the smallest hourglass immediately.
The Mistress ran around in a frenzy of ecstasy, making notes about Tercius's progress and muttering strange phrases under her breath.
Tercius focused all of his effort to make a narrow mana string to saturate only that area and 'hit the spot', per the order of Mistress. The word around the House was that she never liked when someone 'missed a spot', even Tercius had heard of that rumor. Oddly enough, there was also the rumor that most guests enjoyed receiving punishment from the masked woman…
From the side, Millie and Sior observed in silence as the eleven-cycle-old kid in whose charge they were put in, completed one of the most difficult steps along the path of a mage with barely a grunt. The young man's face was as red as the bottom of an errant neophyte after the Mistress enacted lighter punishments as his teeth bit into a piece of cloth. They had never seen anyone go through so much in one sitting, with so little pain medication used. Their stay at the house had made them aware of how things normally went, and the boy had turned their previous experience muddy. Sior kept flipping over the small sand apparatus that kept minutes and when the time came, he informed his employer.
"Pinky, stop! Let me see," The Mistress said as she once more used the illuscope. "Hmm, oh yes! That's it! Well done, well done indeed. If you can proceed—" the Mistress looked at Tercius and he nodded his head in affirmation. "—then go for it. The time has come! Go all in! Fear not! I know what I'm doing!"
Tercius had thought that his face was past the point where it could physically blush, yet he felt his inflamed face heat up from the words the woman screamed.
He didn't bother using his hands and fingers this time around. There was a much better way to do this thing, one he was hesitant to use before for various reasons.
Mana Manipulation could be used in any way the caster wanted to use it. Some, like Mistress Fenia, liked to lace mana into their voices. Others 'draw' with mana, like Master Kot. The skill itself could manipulate mana with pure thought, so Tercius had wondered why intention casting was so difficult to achieve.
Once Master Lazarus had warned him to differentiate 'instinctive' casting and 'intent' casting, during their mana shaping lessons, the giant softy had told Tercius of the reason as to why 'intent' casting proved difficult to master. To cast a spell a mage had to do a few things simultaneously, using both Mana Manipulation and Mana Metamorphosis, and Masted Lazarus had likened it to using his left hand to play an instrument while using his right to draw a painting. How many were able to do that from the start?
Of course, there were ways to slowly learn how to do just that, it was all a matter of practice—
He realized that his mind had started drifting. The pain wasn't pleasant. His head felt as if someone was pumping hot air into it, and the stubborn skull of his refused to let both the heat and air go to waste. The rag he had in his mouth, protection for his teeth, had left it as dry as a desert. Tercius spit out the rag and took a deep breath while shaking his head a bit. His voice was hoarse when he croaked, "Water,"
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The dutiful Millie was near his side with a cup and a pitcher in a moment. "You should rest first, neophyte," the young woman whispered, glancing with fearful eyes at the Mistress. Tercius felt too tired to answer the worried young woman. It had been a long day. He only gave a smile as both thanks and a reassurance that he was both willing and able to continue with this. It was just plain old tiredness, and he was so close to completion.
Form the Well, and then sleep… mmm sleep… Tercius thought.
He placed a new rag between his teeth and closed his eyes. Mana Manipulation flowed along his mana channels in his legs, arms, and into his head until he gripped it under his control, his Mana Sight there to roughly guide him. Slowly, starting from toes and fingers, he dragged mana upwards, compressing it as he pulled all of it towards the center of his torso.
Finally, after a lot of pain, escaped mana, and then some more pain, he managed to focus almost everything he had in the center of his torso. Mana kept brawling to get out of his control, some of it escaping into his body, and then swiftly pulled back to his empty channels. The channels were mana's preferred environment and their current empty state was an offense, after all.
He formed a balloon of mana in the center of his torso and tried to force it to get as small as possible, compressing the gas-like mana to something that approached a liquid form. Every wisp of escaped or regenerated mana was pulled to that shrinking shape and Tercius even engaged Precision to aid him. After all, now there was no more need for mana to be kept still and the cost of the skill’s use was negligible to him.
Tercius only heard the rhythmic beat of his heart, as the minutes flew by. The heat in him only grew.
“It’s time to strap him.” The Mistress stated, excitement in her voice evident.
Without opening his scrunched eyes, Tercius knew that Millie and Sior had moved to use the belts that hung on the sides of the table. The cool leather quickly heated up, as it was pressed on his skin and tightened firmly into place. Any minute now…
The words the Mistress had told him earlier came to mind, “If you’re lucky, you will pass out…”
He felt the oncoming conjunction of channels, a new center of gravity pulling his organs to its forming locus. He kept his focus on his mana, pushing ahead with little regard for anything else— until the instant it happened. The first two channels touched, then a fraction of that instant later, another two touched, then three more…
Darkness took him and he knew no more.
But only for a moment.
"Ahhhhhhhh!!" a guttural roar escaped him around a mouthful of cloth, as he woke up. His body seized and tried to convulse, yet the straps held him in place. His eyelids drew back exposing his feral eyeballs to the panicked servants and one ecstatic Mistress who kept her illuscope on his chest. His tense body demanded of him to fold into the fetal position.
"Shhh…You aren't lucky at all…" The Mistress said something, Tercius saw her lips move, but he had trouble hearing her over his heartbeat. "A minute more and the pain will pass. Shhh… Look—" she pointed her finger and Tercius's wild eyes followed. "— that's your Well developing! Look at it! Simply marvelous!"
A hologram hovered over him, one that was more familiar to him with each passing moment.
The edges of the hologram were known to him instantly, he saw those thin, root-like channels daily for a while now. It was what happened in the center that was strange to observe. There was a mass there, in his chest, one that was expanding visibly. Only roughly sphere-like, the Well was a lumped and misshaped thing, and it reminded Tercius of a still-growing fungus.
Seeing this happen, with his own eyes, took him away from the pain.
The Well expanded everywhere, like spray foam, filling up free space between Tercius' other internal organs. Any mana channels that this expanding entity came upon were absorbed into its fold, assimilated to form a solid mana organ.
Even storms settle, eventually.
When the Well stopped with the expansion, seemingly content with the size it grew to, the bulk of what he felt in his chest simply stopped. The pressure, the heat, the stabs… Tercius breathed a sigh of relief.
"Is the pain over?" The Mistress asked as she scribbled something. Millie stepped near Tercius and took out the snot and spit covered cloth, liberating his mouth. Tercius nodded slowly, his eyes barely kept open now that the pain was gone. The Mistress told him that most simply pass out from the pain of the formation, only to wake up hours later.
Tercius saw that the woman was saying something, but he didn't hear a thing. It had been a long morning, followed by an excruciating afternoon. Forty-one days, by his count, when the total line was drawn. When he thought about how he could have done the same in a mere two to three weeks, if only he had only opted out for the other Well, he sighed. A blanket of exhaustion was finally there to cover him and he didn't resist. A small reprieve was here, finally, so why resist?
***
Sun arrived sooner than Tercius wanted it to. He woke up on a bed in a familiar examination room. In mere moments from when he started stirring, Millie was there by his side.
“My congratulations, neophyte.” the young woman said with a smile, as she helped Tercius get up.
“Thank you,” he said slowly. “Is there anything to drink?”
A minute later, his thirst sated, he asked, “So what happened after I fell asleep?”
“We moved you to this bed, cleaned you up a bit, and The Mistress made some measurements on your Well. She was ecstatic, saying that it was the biggest Well she ever saw. A whole seventeen percent bigger than the average, by volume,” Millie said.
Tercius nodded. “Amber?”
“She is with Sior, per our previous agreement. He was the one who stayed with you the whole night, and I only arrived an hour ago,” Millie informed him. “I should go and get the Mistress, now that you woke up.”
When Millie left, Tercius took a moment to compose himself. He still felt tired, exhausted even. Not even a full night of sleep was able to help him with that. Yet he was also curious. He used his Mana Sight to observe his chest and even though his skill was not able to observe the new organ, directly, it was able to see the mana that filled up its physical volume. Simply with the presence of the physical Well, a mage's pool of mana would be expanded by around thirty percent, according to statistics the MIstress kept. In Tercius' case, this expansion was even a bit larger.
The next step was for him to start forcing mana to enter this Well to expand it metaphysically, but this was less pressing. He would only stay in the House for the famous 'First Dig', and then spend another day or two under the observation of the Mistress to make sure that everything went well. He placed a loose estimate that he would return to his regular schedule in around five days.
Images of the previous night came to him, aided by Visualization. He reviewed his visual memories of the Well formation up until the Mistress arrived.
"There's my record breaker! Well done, in more ways than one! See what I did there?" The Mistress laughed. "Let me take a quick look at that Well. I should also make sure that the rest of you is in the right condition, yes?"
***
An imposed day of rest later, Tercius stepped forward to finish the last leg of this journey.
The 'first dig' consisted of two parts. First was a repeat of what he did to form the Well— he compressed all of the mana from his body to the Well, forcing as much mana in there as he could.
The second step was to rapidly rotate the mana inside the Well while keeping a tight seal on the Well's boundaries. No mana was allowed to leak and he would have to add every single drop of mana he regenerated to that Well. The pain flared accompanied by a dull kind of pressure as if he ate too much. The initial moment when he started rotating the mana was the worst, and gradually it eased as the minutes went by. When he added new mana into that vortex the pain flared once more, but Tercius pushed on. A dozen minutes later, the pain eased once more. When he added the regenerated mana, once more the pain flared.
"That's all there is to it," the Mistress informed him. "And now listen to me and listen well! You should do this as often as you can, daily even! Two to four hours, if you can manage. There are benefits to a large Well, Pinky,"
"So I was told, Mistress. Mana storage, longer metaphysical mana channel development…"
The woman shook her head gently. "There are more benefits than that— one very special, in particular. Obey me when I say this and don’t slack on your Well, understood?"
"And what are these other—"
"Ask no more." The Mistress stated, her hand raised in denial. "When the proper time comes, you will learn."