Chapter One Hundred and Forty - Repetition is the Mother of All Learning

I focused as I raised my hand and narrowed my eyes at the dummy standing across from me.

First, the mana. A nice big blob of it formed in my cupped hand and began to warm up. It still took a few long seconds for the mana to turn into Fire Aspect. I’d need to work on that. If I was ever in a fight again and I wanted Fire Aspect mana, then I’d probably need it in a bit of a hurry.

The first part was the trickiest. I’d figured out the mix of fire and cleaning magic needed to cast sticky fireballs, but not for making it easily. I always had to make fire mana first, and then inject it full of cleaning mana. I couldn’t do it the other way around. Well, not without it kinda combusting.

The second trickiest part was forming not one, but three sets of three fireballs at the same time. They were linked to each other in sets of three by a thin ‘wire’ of mana. It looked like nine water balloons tied end-on-end, each one no bigger than a lemon and glowing with the reddish-white mix of cleaning and fire aspect manas.

I think having a bit of cleaning mana in the mix was helping with the control over the entire thing, otherwise there was no way I could get it all together without the complex spell bursting apart.

It wasn’t that each individual spell was complicated. I could still recall Severin, my first temporary teacher in the magical arts, explaining to me that Fireball was just about the simplest spell there was.

“Multi Delayed-Cast Sticky Fireball!” I called.

Nine Fireballs rushed out, three tight groupings of three.

The first set missed the dummy entirely, the second had one Fireball smack into the dummy’s head, and the third set had another hit. Those fireballs with the right mix of Cleaning magic in them lit up the dummy and kept the fire on it for way longer.

“Two out of nine!” I cheered as I bounced up and down.

“You really don’t need to shout so much,” Amaryllis said.

I turned over to my friend who was sitting on a sort of lounge chair at the back of the training area. She had a tall glass of something with ice in it on a table next to her, and a harpy book about puppetry on her lap. Another, this one about nervous systems, of all things, was resting on the table.

“It makes the spell cooler,” I said.

She sighed. “Whatever.”

Turning back to the dummy, I felt a big bubble of pride grow in my tummy, all warm and fuzzy at the sight of the fire still licking away at the wooden construct.

Fire and dummies were a match made in heaven.

I gasped.

“What is it?” Amaryllis asked.

“I got a new skill!” I said even as the prompt opened before me.

Ding! For repeating a Special Action a sufficient number of times you have unlocked the general skill: Matchmaking!

I stared. “What?”

Amaryllis went back to her book. “When you’re ready do tell me.”

“I... I am confused.”

“How unusual,” Amaryllis said without looking up.

I pouted at her, but she couldn’t see it. So, instead, I popped open the new skill’s description.

Matchmaking

Rank F - 00%

The ability to spark a match in others

I squinted at the description. “Amaryllis, I got a skill that doesn’t make sense.”

She finally looked up. “Not Mana Manipulation or something along those lines?”

I shook my head. “I got Matchmaking. It says it’s meant to spark a match in others.”

Now even Amaryllis looked stumped. “That’s... interesting. I’ve heard of the skill. Some old stickybeaks who can’t mind their own business say that they have it. They try to get everyone matched up with everyone else. Ask Rose about them some day, she loves to rant.”

“I don’t want to be an old gossip,” I grumbled. “I just want to light things on fire.”

She tapped a feather to her chin. “The situation with Rhawrexdee, the thing with Rose and Awen.. yes I can see why you ended up with the skill. Now all you need to do is grow out some grey feathers and stoop over a bit and you’ll fit right in with the old gossips.”

“Amaryllis!” I protested. She cackled. “Don’t be so mean or I’ll use my new skill on you.”

“Don’t you dare,” she said. “Or I’ll start using you to practice my puppeteering skills.”

I stuck my tongue out at her.

In reality, my new skill didn’t sound that bad. If its Rank C was anything like Friendmaking, then it might be very handy.

Name Broccoli Bunch Race Bun (Riftwalker) First Class Cinnamon Bun Bun First Class Level

10

Second Class Wonderlander Second Class Level

1

Age

16

Health

135

Stamina

145

Mana

125

Resilience

45

Flexibility

55

Magic

25

Skills Rank Cinnamon Bun Bun Skills Cleaning A - 11% Way of the Mystic Bun E - 49% Gardening D - 24% Adorable D - 100% Dancing D - 90% Wonderlander Skills Tea Making E - 93% General Skills Insight C - 72% Makeshift Weapon Proficiency D - 100% Archeology F - 63% Friendmaking C - 29% Matchmaking F - 00% Cinnamon Bun Bun Skill Points

The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.

4

Wonderlander Skill Points

1

General Skill Points

4

First Class Skill Slots

0

Second Class Skill Slots

0

General Skill Slots

5

I had a few points I could spend across the board. Not only that, I had a few skills that were ripe for rank-ups soon, and I had the points to spend. A bit more practice and I’d be even stronger than before!

According to Amaryllis, people didn’t start taking you seriously unless you were deep into your second tier, or even in the third. But at the rate I was going, that could take months.

“We need to adventure more,” I said.

“World no. I think I’ve done more than enough to risk my life in the last few weeks, thank you very much.”

“Ah, but what about our diplomatic mission? Wouldn’t it be easier if we were stronger?”

Amaryllis paused. “It would be. How about you continue with your Fireball training. I’m certain that a few hundred more hours of practice would allow you to reach basic competence.”

I huffed at her, one of her own ‘I’m going to do it, but I find you silly’ huffs. Judging by the confused look that crossed her face, she knew exactly what I meant.

My next multicast Fireball was still in its mana-blob state when the crunch of gravel behind me had me looking over my shoulder to see Clementine stepping into the training grounds. “Oh, don’t mind me,” she said.

I nodded and refocused on my spell. I wasn’t getting faster by leaps and bounds, but I was managing to chip away a second here and there as I got used to the cast. I was sure that with a few more days of practice I’d be able to cast the entire thing in under ten seconds.

This time, when the volley went off, only one of the balls hit the dummy, but it was right smack in the middle of its wooden head, so I called it a victory.

“Interesting,” Clementine said. “A sort of scattershot approach. Probably good for large swarms of enemies with decent evasion.”

“I’m surprised you know that much,” Amaryllis said.

“I might not be a combatant, but I’m not a fool,” Clementine said. “Besides, you need to know a thing or two if you’re going to have a conversation with some of the older folks at some gatherings. You wouldn’t believe how much they can prattle on about who has the biggest spell.”

“Are they all veterans?” I asked. Maybe they were like a club filled with Abraham Bristlecones.

“No. Only one in ten is past their second tier. Most took decades to even get that far.” She shook her head. “They, and unfortunately, myself, are career politicians and business birds. We’re ill-suited to fighting. Not that that would stop them from dreaming.”

“Maybe one day I'll deign to escort you through a dungeon,” Amaryllis said. I’d never heard her sound so smug before.

Clementine harrumphed. “I’d rather hire a professional, not someone still playing with dolls.”

Amaryllis just grinned. “I have plans for these dolls. You’ll see.”

“Oh, I’m certain,” Clementine said. “Now, I didn’t leave off my work to come and antagonize and mock you, Amaryllis, as amusing as that is.”

Amaryllis sat up straighter. “What’s wrong?”

“Oh, nothing is wrong. It’s just that news of our little... mission for you and your friends has gotten out. Not to too many ears, but it did reach some important people.”

“Politics?” Amaryllis asked.

Clementine nodded. “Politics,” she agreed. “They seem ambivalent about our little plan, thinking it quite... quaint and unlikely to be needed. Still, they want to meet.”

“Why would they think that?” I asked. The plan seemed pretty sound. If the diplomats couldn’t make it because of sabotage or something, then we’d pick up the torch. If they did make it, then we’d just be there to see how things went. It seemed... easy enough.

“Clan Albatross has some history, and more importantly, we have a lot of money. But the Nesting Kingdom doesn’t run on gold, it runs on connections and favours and old ties. Until a generation ago our clan was fairly small but well-respected. We had few rivals, generally minded our own business, and were just small enough to stay out of the bigger political games.”

“Don’t you guys own the biggest shipyards now?” I asked.

“We own them because the older a clan is, the slower it is to move,” Clementine said. “Tradition is as much a shackle as it is a tool. When our parents saw the opportunity to start building in an entirely new industry they were some of the first to move, and they pushed it hard. We had the first mover advantage and we’ve kept it. Now we’re one of the richest families around.”

“That’s good, right?” I asked.

“It is for us. But some of the older clans can get jealous. It’s a good thing that we are a clan, and one that was well-respected. I can’t imagine what would have happened if the shipyards would have opened under a clanless harpy’s control. As it is, we’ve been bullied and threatened and coerced from the moment we started to rise, but we had the connections and the political clout to fend off most of that.”

“That doesn’t sound very nice,” I said.

“It’s politics. We’re still politically weak, but economically strong. It’s a strange position to be in, and the inverse of many other clans. With new contracts coming in from the Royal Navy, that might well change. Clans want their children to captain our ships, but they can’t do that without training that only we can provide.”

I nodded slowly. I could kinda see what was going on. “So now they want favours from you?”

“Yes. It’s why they’re snooping so much. This mission you, Amaryllis, and Awen are going on might very well be far more important than they’re giving it credit.”

“Are you sure?” I asked.

Clementine nodded. “You’re a Riftwalker.”

I blinked and looked over to Amaryllis who blushed a bit. “I... might have let slip one hint too many in a letter back home.”

“We’ve kept it between us,” Clementine said. “Myself, Rose, our parents. That’s all.”

I shook my head. “I don’t get the connection here.”

“The World tends to throw Riftwalkers into all the most interesting spots of trouble. Historically speaking, that is,” Clementine said. “I’m hoping that we can nudge things along. If the official diplomatic mission flops like a chick on its first flight, then it will be up to Amaryllis, Awen and yourself to take up the mantle. Amaryllis who is a daughter of clan Albatross. It’s a lot of... political bragging rights, let’s call it.”

I crossed my arms and thought about it for a moment, which Clementine seemed happy to let me do. “I’m not sure if I like being used like that, even if it’s for a good cause. I... I just want to go on adventures and have fun.”

Clementine nodded slowly. “That’s fair. It’s why we don’t mind compensating you for your troubles.”

I had the impression there was more than just that going on. “Neat,” I said.

***