I was at the edge of the forest, just outside Elmwick, lazily flipping through a book I had bought earlier in the day. It was a bit expensive considering it was just a few pieces of parchment wrapped with a leather cover, but the title ‘Study on the Properties of Wand Cores’ caught my eye.

The soft rustle of the trees in the cool breeze provided a soothing background melody as I lay down on the grass, letting my eyes wander over the neatly written text on the aged parchment. As I read, I found myself engrossed in the findings.

‘The difference in fatigue when using different wands suggests that the core affects the amount of mana necessary to achieve the desired magical effect’ the author had written in a tight, neat hand. ‘Upon testing this theory with two wands of identical base, I consistently found myself more fatigued when using the cheaper copper-cored version. Yet, the effect of the spell remained the same as the other wand, leading me to the concept of mana efficiency.’

While fatigue from mana usage hasn’t been a concern for me, I could imagine how important good mana efficiency would be. Further along, another observation caught my eye. ‘Small crystal cores, though capable of casting weaker spells with efficiency comparable to a diamond core, faltered when faced with more mana-intensive spells. This led me to hypothesize the existence of a property related to how much mana a material could handle at once. I dubbed it 'mana transfer rate'.’

While the conclusion that different core types had differing properties was already sort of known and ‘mana transfer rates’ and ‘mana efficiency’ seemed quite obvious in hindsight, being the first to clearly articulate this was revolutionary.

‘So my old wand core was limiting the transfer rate?’ I mulled. ‘I wonder how my bare hands compare.’ It was hard to find available material on stronger magic, and my current abilities aren’t good enough to pioneer them myself.

After I finished reading, out of the corner of my eye, I saw a group of burly lumberjacks in heated discourse with a lanky, frantic young man in magician robes. ‘Another magician’ I thought. It was the first one I had seen outside the city.

Eavesdropping wasn’t good, but I was curious so I approached slightly and hid behind a nearby tree. With this, I was able to get a better look at the ongoing argument.

“These logs are all wrong!” the magician was shouting, frustration clear on his face. His eyes darted over the wood laid out on the ground with a look of profound disappointment.

“Watcha mean, wrong? We got ’em exactly how you asked!” a lumberjack retorted, crossing his arms over his broad chest.

The magician groaned and began pounding his staff on the ground in anger. “I explained to you that I need different types of wood, properly dried but not too dry, cut into lengths of approximately two and a half feet, and with no decay! Some of this is…is…” as he fanatically waved his hand at a pile of logs.

‘Oh, those poor souls.’ I sympathized silently. Having had enough of the ongoing drama, I flew back to town.

…

We were gathered at a small outdoor kitchen we borrowed, cooking up dinner. Finn nudged a sack of carrots towards me with his foot. “Wash the carrots for me, would you?” he called out, hands busy chopping potatoes.

“Sure!” Taking a few from the sack, I put them in a pot before using my magic and washing them. It was a mundane task, one I performed without a second thought. Midway through, I felt a sudden chill down my spine. Turning my head, I saw the young magician from earlier staring from a bit away. His head snapped in my direction, eyes wide and sparkling with a fervor I found mildly disturbing.

He suddenly bolted towards us, well me.

"The way you just manipulated your mana...how...how did you do it?" He stammered, as he seized me by my shoulders and sent the carrots I was washing clattering to the ground. His grip was tight, his face inches from mine. While furiously shaking me, his words came out in a rapid torrent. "How did you just manipulate your mana without a wand? That's not possible!"

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Finn and Elara, having recovered from the surprise, stepped in.

"That's enough!" Finn barked, pulling the magician off me. Elara quickly moved to shield me, her eyes narrow and warily watching the agitated man. The magician then seemed to realize how inappropriate his actions were. Calming down a bit, he began introducing himself.

"Apologies," He said, adjusting his glasses. "I got carried away. My name is Ilrid, a magician from Lorendor. I've been investigating the properties of wands and staves.” He quickly explained his current research about how different types of cores used in wands affected magic. “...there was always a discrepancy in my results that I couldn't quite figure out. I theorized that the type of wood would have a similar impact, so I came to Elmwick, renowned for its diverse forests. But then...I saw you flying. Casting magic without a wand! That’s...that’s impossible! How did you do it?!” he exclaimed, his eyes wide with astonishment. His frantic bursts of madness continued for a bit, and by the end, it seemed like he was talking to himself more than us.

'Does this guy ever stop talking?' I thought, somewhat exasperated. Nonetheless, his study sounded interesting and surprisingly relevant to what I’d just read. It made sense that besides the core, other things would also contribute to the performance of a wand or staff.

“You read my work?” he asked, a broad grin spreading across his face. “That’s fantastic! I just sold it earlier today, needed some funds to continue my research. I didn’t actually think anyone would read it, it’s not every day you meet someone who appreciates such intricate studies in a small town like Elmwick.” He seemed genuinely delighted, as though my reading of his work was more exciting than any of his experiments.

But then his demeanor changed. His eyes lit up as an idea took root. He glanced at me, his gaze intense. “You, you could help me! Help me unravel the mysteries of mana manipulation!” he said, an eagerness edging his voice.

‘Help him? With his research?’ I thought. I mean, it was an interesting topic, but I wasn’t particularly keen on doing research. Before I could reject his offer, Finn did it for me.

“No way. She doesn’t have time to play around with your research. We’re leaving tomorrow” his tone stern. It seemed like Finn wasn’t too fond of getting entangled with a weirdo like Ilrid. Well, neither was I given his rather unconventional introduction. But immediately after, Ilrid was off again, babbling in his typical energetic manner. “Think about it! A mage who can cast magic without a wand! This is unprecedented! Just think about the progress we could make in understanding mana manipulation, how magic can be cast, and the role of wands and cores in magic!”

His words echoed in my head. The prospect of being able to contribute to something revolutionary did sound appealing. Looking at Finn, it seems he still didn’t agree. I then turned to Elara, who eventually showed a supportive look.

“Alright” I finally said, “I’ll help. But only for tomorrow.”

'A day wouldn’t hurt, would it?' I mused, 'And I might learn something new.'

Ilrid’s face lit up as if he had just struck gold. “Fantastic! Alythia, you won't regret this!" he said, barely containing his excitement before running off to who knows where.

...

The next day came around, and as promised, I found myself in a small makeshift research area Ilrid had set up along the edge of the forest. There, following Ilrid’s instructions, I began casting magic.

“Ok, shoot a fireball at that” He instructed, pointing to an iron-plated dummy in the distance.

After launching a simple fireball at the target, he bombarded me with a barrage of follow-up questions “How do you feel? Can you put more power? How much mana did you use? Any mana fatigue?...”

‘I feel like I’m getting mental fatigue from this…’

When he was finally satisfied with my answers, he handed me a small copper-tipped wand. “Now use this and do it again.” he said.

…

By the end of the day, I was dead, mentally. Not from mana fatigue, but from the endless questions and boring repetitive tasks. Seeing my seemingly endless supply of mana, Ilrid was overjoyed, so ended up conducting tests nonstop the entire day using each of the different wands and staves in his stockpile.

“I’ve never seen anything like this!” he had exclaimed, eyes shining behind his glasses. “I mean, your mana reservoir is unprecedented! Most magicians would have been drained after hours of constant spellcasting, but you've barely broken a sweat! With a few more days or even weeks, I believe we could make ground-breaking discoveries.”

Ilrid suddenly turned towards me, clasping his hands together. “We could travel back to Lorendor, to the Institute of Knowledge! I’ll make you my assistant, no, my partner! We could write papers, deliver lectures, revolutionize the entire magical community!” he exclaimed, practically bouncing on his feet.

“Absolutely not!” I shrieked.