Chapter 14: Mana
Ronald was outside the classroom door on the first floor of the Stone Tower, feeling a mix of excitement and nervous anticipation. The air in the hallway was still, save for the occasional distant murmur of recruits talking in other parts of the Tower. Here, the Gifted recruits were segregated from the non-gifted, a clear distinction that hung in the atmosphere like an invisible barrier. He pushed open the door and stepped inside, eager to see what the day’s lesson held.
The room was spacious, though not lavish, but there was an air of importance about it. The stone walls were etched with faint runes, their intricate patterns giving off a soft glow that pulsed gently, as though breathing in sync with the mana that filled the Tower. Large wooden desks were arranged in neat rows, all facing a raised platform at the front where a tall figure stood waiting.
The tutor, a man with long silver hair tied back neatly, wore a deep crimson robe that shimmered faintly in the dim light. His presence commanded respect—there was something in the way he stood, his posture tall and his eyes sharp, that told Ronald this man was not to be trifled with. He exuded the calm of someone who had mastered what he was about to teach and the unspoken authority that came with deep understanding.
Ronald glanced around at his fellow recruits as he settled into his seat near the middle of the room. Edmund sat a few rows ahead of him, his posture confident, arms folded, the faintest hint of a smirk playing on his lips. Other gifted recruits chatted quietly, their excitement palpable as they exchanged whispered theories about today’s lesson. Ronald adjusted his glasses and focused on the tutor, determined to absorb everything.
The room fell silent as the tutor’s voice rang out, clear and authoritative. “You are here today because you possess a gift—a connection to mana that sets you apart from others. But let me be clear: this gift is only the beginning. Mana does not bow easily, not even to the Gifted. Your journey will be long, and your mastery over mana hard-earned.”
He paused, letting his words sink in. Ronald could feel the weight of the statement in the air, a sobering reminder that simply being Gifted was not enough.
“Our first lesson,” the tutor continued, “is about understanding mana, feeling it. Mana exists all around us, in every breath of air, every blade of grass, every stone in this Tower. But sensing it—truly feeling it—is a skill that must be developed. It will not happen today. Likely, not tomorrow either. For some of you, it could take weeks.”
Ronald frowned slightly. He had expected that being Gifted, he would be able to sense mana right away. But now, hearing the tutor speak, it became clear that this wasn’t something that could be achieved in a single lesson.
“Close your eyes,” the tutor instructed, his voice calm yet firm. “Clear your minds of distractions. Breathe deeply, and focus. Don’t look for mana—let it come to you. It is not a force to be grasped, but a presence to be felt.”
The room grew still as the recruits obeyed, closing their eyes and settling into quiet concentration. Ronald took a deep breath, feeling the cool air fill his lungs. At first, all he could sense was the silence, broken only by the occasional soft shuffling from another recruit. He tried to focus, to push all other thoughts aside. He wanted to feel the mana—needed to—but all he could detect was the faint echo of his own heartbeat and the soft thrum of energy in the Tower walls. It wasn’t enough.
Minutes passed, and the more Ronald tried to concentrate, the more frustrated he became. He had expected this to be easy—to simply close his eyes and sense the power that supposedly ran through the very air. But there was nothing. No spark, no pulse. Just silence.
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He opened his eyes slightly, glancing around the room. Most of the other recruits still had their eyes closed, expressions of deep focus on their faces. Even Edmund, who always carried an air of smugness, appeared to be struggling, his brow furrowed in concentration.
“It is not a sensation you can force,” the tutor said, his voice cutting through the silence. “Mana must be coaxed, not commanded. You must become a part of its flow. For now, just breathe.”
The lesson continued in this manner for some time—long stretches of silent meditation, punctuated only by the tutor’s calm guidance. Ronald’s frustration grew. He could feel something faint, a tingle just on the edge of his senses, but it was elusive, slipping away every time he reached for it.
After what felt like an eternity, the tutor spoke again, breaking the silence. “In time, you will learn to align yourself with mana’s flow, to draw it into yourself. Eventually, you will build what is known as a mana pool—a reservoir of energy within your body that can come in many different variations. This pool will be the foundation for all magical practice. But today, it is enough to try and feel the presence of mana. Do not be discouraged if you sense nothing yet.”
As the lesson came to a pause, Edmund raised his hand, his voice cutting through the room’s focused atmosphere. “If we Gifted can create a mana pool, how is it that non-gifted recruits can as well? Shouldn’t that be impossible for them?”
The tutor regarded him with a patient expression. “A mana pool can be created in many ways. For you, the Gifted, it is a natural process—one that you will learn through meditation, alignment, and practice. For the non-gifted, it is much more difficult. They must rely on external methods—rituals, inscriptions, magical items—to manipulate mana. The process is slower, and often fraught with difficulty. But it is possible.”
Another recruit, a girl with sharp eyes and a slight sneer raised her hand next. “But if they aren’t Gifted, why are they allowed in the Tower at all? They weren’t born to control mana. It’s against the natural order, isn’t it?”
A few other recruits nodded in agreement, and Ronald could feel the tension rising. The divide between Gifted and non-gifted was something that had been quietly acknowledged since their arrival at the Tower, but now, it was being openly challenged.
The tutor’s expression darkened slightly, but he remained calm. “That mindset belongs to the old world,” he said firmly. “Yes, the Gifted have an advantage. But through research, through trial and error, we have learned that power can be cultivated, even in those who were not born with it. The true enemies of humanity are not your fellow recruits. There are other races in this world—beings that would see us wiped out if given the chance. These races do not care whether you are Gifted or not. They see us all as the same.”
The room fell into an uneasy silence. Some of the recruits shifted uncomfortably in their seats, while others, like Edmund, remained defiant, their expressions still smug and unconvinced.
“Leave your prejudice behind,” the tutor continued. “You are here to learn, to grow stronger, to prepare for the real battles that await you beyond these walls. Focus on that.”
With that, the lesson drew to a close. The recruits began to gather their things, some still deep in thought about what the tutor had said. Ronald, still feeling a sense of frustration from his struggle to sense the mana, remained seated for a moment longer, contemplating the path ahead.
Just as he was about to leave, a group of Gifted recruits approached him, their faces friendly but their air of superiority unmistakable.
“Hey, Ronald,” one of them said with a grin. “We’re heading up to the third floor to hang out. One of the guys up there has a killer voice—he’s Gifted and can sing like you wouldn’t believe. Want to come with us?”
Ronald hesitated for only a moment before nodding. He was eager to bond with his peers, to carve out his place among the Gifted. As they left the classroom together, heading toward the grand staircase that would take them to the third floor, Ronald couldn’t help but feel a deep sense of satisfaction. The life of a Gifted was everything he had hoped for—and more.