I woke up feeling refreshed, the pre-dawn dark visible through my barred window. I had spent the remainder of the prior day cultivating and trying to figure out a way to fully push the invasive mental compulsion out of my head. I had succeeded on the first, but failed on the second, despite my best efforts. It had not been a total loss, of course; I had managed to push it back sufficiently to think properly, which had helped me with my meditation, but it seemed that actually denying it completely was outside of my reach, for the moment.

My Praxis reserves were sitting at about twenty-five percent, which was a significant step up from the fumes I had been mostly operating on since I woke up from my week-long bout of unconsciousness. Still, I would have preferred to be full, especially in this city.

Shrugging, I cleansed myself, popped a hydrating pill sat on the edge of the soft bed, contemplating what I would be doing for the day. We did not really have a plan, other than to wait for Jorl, and while my quest from Xiournal had been to keep loss of civilian live to a minimum, I did not really know what that meant. It was a relatively short-term quest, so I assumed that something would happen at some point that would allow me to act upon it, but in the wake of my last failed job, I could not stop myself from wondering if I needed to be out doing something. It had occurred to me that I could even be in completely the wrong place, though previously when the dragon-lady had given me a task, it had been within my ability to get there, if finding exactly how to was a bit less certain.

With a shrug, I tried to stop worrying, as if it was beyond my actual ability to perform, there was nothing I could do. Instead, knowing that my friends would probably like some more time away from the desire to fight each of the others, I decided to take a look at one of the limbs I had brought back from the dead world. The sharp limitation in my energy reserves had become apparent to me, and while I could definitely fight for much longer at less strenuous levels, my ‘normal’ was still above that of others. There was also the fact that I was consistently getting into situations that required my full power, and as such, increasing my overall efficiency would be... very helpful.

Reaching into a ring, I pulled out a right arm that seemed black except where it caught the light and became a brilliant opalescent orange. I could not remember the ability that the original owner had possessed, as that fight had been fairly frantic. I recalled what the individual abilities were but not to whom each belonged.

I turned the arm in my hands, examining the joints; much like my own prosthetic, the whole thing appeared to be made of one seamless piece, but unlike mine, it had no give to it at all. Not wanting to break it, I tried to flex it gently at first, and with increasing force but it did not bend at all, and I gave up before I got to my full strength, not wanting to break the thing.

Not quite knowing where to start, I tried to simply press my awareness into the limb, but that proved to be about as useful as holes in a hanky. My next attempt involved trying to push a filament of Praxis into the thing, much like I did with my rings; this was more of a success, though it was oddly tough going, like pushing my finger into cold, thick treacle.

Unlike my own body – and items designed to be interfaced with directly – navigating the arm did not come naturally to me, leaving me at something of a loss as I pushed my way in deeper. After several minutes of effectively groping my way around in the dark, I came across what appeared to be an energy channel, though it appeared to be a little cruder than my own, and more angular, less organic. My filament – and awareness – was able to move more freely within the sharp lines of the circuit and I began to follow it, taking my time to note the turns and try to gain some picture of the design in my head.

After an hour of mapping out the internal state of the limb, I thought I had a basic idea of the layout; despite the ways in which it differed from my own arm, I thought I could see pieces of similarity. These shared points of reference I assumed were the mechanisms that resulted in the increased efficiency, as well as perhaps the parts that created the seamless connection to flesh. I knew that the aspects that designated abilities were likely to be the bulk, and would logically be completely different, as in fact the majority of the sharp, jagged patterns were. The two sections I recognised were both near the shoulder of the orange-black arm, and I even managed to isolate the part meant for connecting, as of the two, it was the most similar

Taking a mental step back, I retracted my mind’s eye and sent it sliding into my own prosthetic, as easy as breathing. The same design – if more artfully and organically drawn – I had noted in my investigation was definitely present, but in mine it actually seemed to repeat, feeding back into itself as the same loops and whirls grew larger. I observed my Praxis running through it, and it almost seemed like a reverse jet engine, at least in concept. My energy entered the start of the manifold and seemed to slow down and expand, almost seeming to lose energy, though I knew that was not the case.

I could not see how this process would actually improve my efficiency at all; if anything, it looked like it should slow down the cycling of Experience through my body. Gathering my will, I passed the tiniest trickle of Praxis through my Focus and directed the bright lines of light towards my crystal hand and watched carefully as they passed around and through the channels. As with my normal Praxis, the lightning seemed to slow and expand as it looped back and forth until it came crashing back together from multiple directions, forced into a series of contracting rings that I had failed to notice previously, as they only appeared different to the channels around them from the inside. As the lightning passed through these sections, it was forced to compress and accelerate before passing out and into the world with a low screech.

If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

Cutting the power, I frowned at my arm; it did not seem to make any sense; why slow it down, just to accelerate it? Surely there was a loss somewhere in all that? I thought back to when I had first received an arm, and how it had exploded, and I paused for a moment; what if the material literally could not deal with the forces involved when compressing Praxis at its full strength? Slowing it down first would make sense then, I thought. But even so, it was not really more efficient, just concentrated. Or was it? By slowing it down and spreading it out, and then further concentrating that, I was likely getting more result but with a lower usage. It was, in some ways, the same as the way in which cultivation worked. A cultivator took Experience – the ambient energy of the universe – and then refined and concentrated it again and again until it achieved a stable - and much denser – base state. The designers did something similar; they took Experience and forced it into a more compressed state at the moment of usage. It meant they did not have to spend the time refining, instead using their replacement parts as huge natural batteries, and did all the actual work at the tail end, but in an entirely automated way.

This method did not quite result in an increase at the magnitude of Praxis, because there was no refinement being done, so the energy could only compress so far, but it was certainly significantly denser than normal Experience. What I was doing – at least in my left arm – was both. I was refining the Experience and the design was re-compressing it, forcing it to a level density closer to Veritas, resulting in more bang for my buck. If I could integrate the systems within my body, not only would it solve the energy reserve issues caused by my extended channels, but it would also magnify my power output at the same time. It would be... ridiculous.

And on top of that, I had the ability to integrate sigils, which seemed to be closer to what the designers did to make their own abilities, manipulating the channelled energy to achieve specific results. Though from what Lucas had said, they were also capable of storing energy, or spooling it, rather.

DUK3 had said that Lucas had assisted with my arm, so part of the functions were not – or should not be – entirely channel based. Frowning, I dived back into my arm and began to examine the areas around the channels, looking for any sign of sigils, but even after another hour of searching, I found no sign of the strange magic circles. It was only when I pulling my consciousness back out that I caught a glimpse of something. Pulling my mind’s eye to a stop, I tried to take in my entire arm at once, widening my focus and trying not to let my mind lock onto any one part. It was the opposite of how the process usually worked, and was entirely against my instincts, but with some effort I managed it, my mind held purposefully relaxed as I examined the weird three-dimensional layout of my arm, noting that while not a... traditional circle, if it was stretched out and flattened... it might be.

*

***

*

I spent another four hours in my room, comparing the designs in the two limbs as I quietly cultivated, looping back my discoveries and excitement back into energy as I gathered Experience and let my Core process it.

But there was only so long I could stand to sit staring into body parts, and despite the possibility of letting my temper snap back into place, I left the plush green space and made my way down the stairs, unlocking doors as I went until I found myself once more in what passed for a common room in the City’s Edge.

I was pleasantly surprised to find Toria and Riffa sat at a table off to one side and made my way over to offer greetings. The two of them saw me walking over and offered me restrained nods.

“Hey, Riffa, Toria. How did you sleep?”

“With resigned control, my brother was growling in his sleep, so I did not get as much as I would have liked, Hunter.”

I winced a little and looked over at the black-haired apprentice; I knew she did not have an older brother to keep her awake, but now that I looked more closely, she did seem tired.

“I seem to have activated my Focus during a particularly troublesome dream, which catapulted me from my bed and damaged the sheets. I have already paid for the damages, though I may need to seek an alchemist to purchase something to help me sleep.

“Damn, sorry guys. That sucks. Riffa, maybe we can trade off, so you can get some sleep tonight? I’m a pretty deep sleeper, so maybe I can overcome Reff’s growls?”

“In pleasant surprise, I would appreciate that, Hunter.”

“Done. Sorry, Toria; I don’t have anything on me to help. I didn’t quite foresee sleep troubles when I left the Citadel. But I can come with you to find an alchemist, if you like?”

“Thank you. I should be able to acclimatize to this... aura... though it may take me a couple of days.”

“With strained agreement, I will accompany you as well. I feel like being out in the city will allow me to grow used to this feeling more quickly than staying here in this inn; tossing myself into the shallow water, as it were.”

“It’s worth a try. Should we let Darina and Reff know?”

“With deliberate dismissal, I do not think they are in the mood to be disturbed at the moment. Perhaps we can leave a message with the inn, for if they choose to leave their rooms on their own?”

“Sure. I’ll let the guard know... if I can find them.”