It’s been three days since they’d left for the Academy and they hadn’t let Mr. Jamison near a campfire since. The poor coachman refused to even look at Mr. Jamison despite the bag of gold he’d received as an apology. Namar was beginning to think the coachman had some kind of personal attachment to that horse, but it really wasn’t his place to pry. At the very least, he’d gotten something out of the whole ordeal. To make up for lost time Mr. Jamison decided to teach them a few basic techniques alongside how to access their mana supply.
Figuring out how to access his mana supply was quite simple really, he closed his eyes and focused inwards. After a few hours of searching he felt something at the center of his chest. It was concentrated and focused, almost like a solid object, but with a simple demand it would give its power freely. It took a couple hours to find the first time around, but only got easier every time he looked. At this point it only took maybe ten or fifteen minutes to find it, and he could hold onto it for hours at a time.
He experimented with it immediately, but had trouble properly controlling the raw flow of mana, only being able to hold it in the rough shape of a ball for a few seconds before it fell apart. To combat this Mr. Jamison taught them a few basic techniques that could be mixed, matched, and mastered to the heart’s content.
The first was focus, the simple exercise of bringing mana to a single point. He tried this in a number of ways, first seeing how quickly he could bring mana into a point, then seeing how much he could pour into it. He tried this on points on his body and could even make one a couple feet from his skin. He even turned the point into a ball.
Beyond a certain point however, the mana would begin to unravel itself. Something Mr. Jamison referred to as the ‘threshold.’
Then came burst. Pushing mana out of the body as quickly as possible in as large an amount as possible. He could do it to existing sources of mana, pull from his own body, fire multiple at once. It was pretty simple. Though It could only go so far before it dissipated entirely.
Sever detached his connection to a certain amount of mana, allowing it to pass his threshold. without it beginning to unraveling itself. Unfortunately he could no longer control the mana he severed. At one point he used this to throw a ball he made with mana. It traveled at the same speed he threw it at until it vanished into the distance, when asked about this Mr. Jamison shrugged and told him, ‘It’ll disappear eventually.’
Anchor was different. He could form a connection between a certain amount of mana and his core. This usually locked that amount of mana in place, but he could still move it if he focused enough. What he thought was really interesting was that he could feel a small threshold around the anchored mana source, so it never disappeared, and he could even channel mana through it.
He played with these techniques for hours on end. Experimenting with them, doing his best to master each technique individually. Barlor on the other hand seemed to master them pretty quickly, moving on from them to continue asking Mr. Jamison even more questions. To Namar it was pretty astounding how someone could seem so fascinated by a concept yet move on so easily after receiving an answer. It was complete nonsense.
Although, admittedly, he was a little jealous that Barlor picked up the techniques so much faster than he did. Still, he was learning magic in the same way he learned smithing. Try, fail, reflect, repeat, and he was comfortable with that. He’d been so focused on this process that he hadn’t noticed when they’d entered into a forest.
Barlor tapped him on the shoulder and smiled. “Up for a game of cards?
He looked up, realizing that at some point in time they’d entered into a verdant forest, brimming with life. He briefly weighed his options and decided that a break would be good every now and again. “Sure why not?”
Barlor set a stack of cards on a small box full of dried food. The first few games were more strategic, with a heavy emphasis on numbers and decision making. Those games Namar excelled at, mostly because he took his time being thorough. When they moved on to more luck based games he struggled, barely able to make decisions due to the lack of information. It was because of this that Namar had gone on a lengthy losing streak, unable to give up out of sheer determination.
This time though, this time for certain. He laid down his hand. “I win.”
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Barlor smirked. “You’re certain about that?” He revealed his hand.
“Damn it! Come on!” Namar slammed the cards on the table.
“Wait, what happened? How’d you get that card in your hand?” Mr. Jamison had been trying to follow along with what was happening so far.
“Uhhh.”
“Wait a second,” Namar leaned forward and grabbed his hand. A pair of cards fell out of his sleeve. “You little… wait, how many times have you cheated in our previous games?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Barlor answered sheepishly.
“Ha! So I won?! Yes I did it! Who won? It was me! I’m a winner!” Namar threw his hands in the air and laughed. When he realized everyone was looking at him funny, he coughed into his arm and quickly regained his composure. “Yes I… think that’ll be all for today.” He stacked all the cards and handed them back to Barlor.
Mr. Jamison looked at him amusedly. “A real winner huh?”
Barlor looked to Mr. Jamison. “Personally, i’m surprised he didn't notice sooner. He seemed so observant…”
“Hey I -” Namar didn't get the chance to defend himself.
“We’ve arrived!” The coachman announced.
As the wagon exited the forest they got a good look at the scenery around them. They stood at the edge of a large valley with a few mountains on the other side. At the valley floor a wide river flowed alongside abundant grasses and the occasional spattering of trees. Three large stone bridges lead across the river, to a collection of marble buildings built around a massive sinkhole and nestled into the massive earthen cliff faces.
The downward slope would’ve been rough for a wagon, but a dirt path outlined a gentler, smoother path downwards. The plants here, like the forest above them were the same vibrant green. The flowers too, were bursting with color.
“What is this place?” Barlor looked around, awestruck.
“A hidden valley.” Mr. Jamison had a far off look, but he couldn't tell what it meant. “A little over fifteen years ago the forests and mountains surrounding the area were teeming with deadly wildlife capable of using magic, such that our explorers and scouts couldn’t even get to the valley. Then one day the wildlife activity slowed, the more dangerous inhabitants slowly disappeared. Being the closest to the valley we immediately seized the opportunity, and sent scouts to explore every nook and cranny. We discovered that the valley is a treasure trove of natural resources and filled with research opportunities, but we weren’t sure if the predators would come back.”
He pointed at the gaping hole in the ground that was now the center of the academy. “See that? All along the edges of that sinkhole are waterfalls, cave systems and ledges of stone that support entire miniature ecosystems. They should be filled with all kinds of wildlife”
From this angle Namar could see that what he said was true. Large rocky ledges that looked like entire sections of grasslands, waterfalls descending into an empty abyss, and large cave entrances where no light could escape.
Mr. Jamison grimaced. “But we didn't find anything. When we finally reached the bottom we found a world beneath the surface. The cave’s ceiling was lit by a number of white glowing mushrooms, from the bottom it was almost like the night sky. The grass was blood red and the water was an unnatural shade of blue. We found all kinds of alien and exotic plant life down there, but no animals, still, nothing. Not a trace save for one thing.”
Mr. Jamison visibly shuddered. “A massive skeletal structure. It's rib cage pierces the sky like massive bony spires and it's skull is a mountain buried in the dirt.
Namar looked to Mr. Jamison with a worried expression, but Barlor couldn't have been more thrilled.
“Anyways, that thing worried me, it still does. I wanted to wait until we figured everything out, or at least scratched the surface of what was going on here, but my colleagues insisted that the animals wouldn't be coming back, and the king was bent on elevating our status as a nation.
Mr. Jamison nodded at the buildings. “So we undertook our most expensive project yet, in a place we knew little to nothing about.”
“Then why build a mage academy at all? Aren't mages free to work with whoever they choose to?” Namar asked.
Mr. Jamison crossed his arms and nodded. “It's true that mages owe no allegiance to the country that educated them and that they usually stay unaffiliated, but a strong connection to mage society is a powerful tool for a nation for a large number of reasons. Yes, a mage owes no allegiance to the country that trained them, but they’re also less likely to work against that country. Not only that, but an established and famous bloodline is a powerful symbol of a country’s might. Just to cite a few reasons.”
“Is it worth it though?” Namar seemed to be deep in thought.
“That remains to be seen… Do me a favor though.”
Barlor's eyes narrowed. “What do you need?”
“Just keep an eye out ok? If you see something suspicious, try to get in contact. Send a letter if it's nothing serious, but you see something… and you know it's not good. Carve the words into this.”
He pulled two grey discs from his pocket and handed it to them. “Worst comes to worst snap it in two.”
Namar turned the stone in his hand. “How do we use it?”
“Do whatever, you’ll figure something out. Just find a way to carve the words into the stone or try and break it somehow.” Knowing they’d ask what would happen he preempted them. “Its a link stone. Whatever happens to one of these, happens to all of them. Just be certain to tell me if you see anything ok?”
Both Barlor and Namar wore serious expressions. They looked to each other, then to Mr. Jamison, and responded in unison.
“Got it.”