Breathe. His lungs gasped at the opportunity for air that they hadn't been given for months. After lying in a coma for so long, his body had atrophied to the point where even standing was extremely taxing on what remained of his once toned muscles. Violent spasms ripped through him as he took another step, undeterred by the fatigue biting into his entire being. The recovery process, in itself, was already a strenuous test of willpower, especially so when there was nobody to aid in the process. the stone floor of his chamber, covered by a masterfully woven rug, had become his new resting place. Get up, walk, collapse. Exercise, eat, sleep. 

Each day, at the end of his exercise, he practiced his mana control. Or, he tried to. His circuit was fine, in fact, it was stronger and more resilient than ever. However, no matter how much he could sense the mana, and no matter how good his mana circuit was, if he didn't have the ability to refine the mana, then it was useless.

Holding his hand outstretched, he began the most basic exercises once again. Focus. Feel the mana. Draw it towards you. His inability to complete even these basic mana exercises left him with a roiling sense of frustration and anger that was hard to shake. Making a pulling motion with his hand, he felt the tide of mana draw towards him, a tsunami of energy that had almost infinite potential. Forcing the mana inside his body, he tried to keep it there. One breath. Two breaths. At this point, the mana showed signs of becoming unstable, warping and twisting out of his grasp, until it dispersed back into the world. 

As he was attacked by the cave bear, he felt something within him pop out of place. As if he was now missing something. In fact, it felt very much like this feeling had to do with his recent inability to refine the mana he absorbed.

After nearing a month of recovery solely in this room, he was starting to feel mildly confined, to say the least. He often found himself thinking back to the time before the accident, or the accident itself, only to get a splitting headache and a nauseating sensation, quickly discouraging that train of thought. His memories felt very fractured.

He glanced towards the door from where he lay recovering from his exercises, finding himself inextracibly drawn towards it.The cold iron handle held a hefty importance, looking weighty enough to cause whoever was opening it to raise an eyebrow in surprise. A glowering lion stared out from the engraved housing of the truncated cube of a handle, small red gems serving as its eyes. A griffon was carved into the aged door itself, wings spread eagle on the thick wooden beams. Simple and sturdy at a passing glance, but intricately detailed on further inspection. 

This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

While Laz was collapsed on the floor, the door opened to reveal his mother, once again, with food. He no longer needed bandages for his wounds, and the damage done to his head, although major, seemed to have mainly fixed itself. The benefits of Magic were not to be underestimated, after all. 

" So, your evaluation came back from the doctor today. He says that a case like yours is honestly a medical first. Your mana core has just vanished. It's already impressive that you survived, but with no mana core, it explains why your recovery was so slow. You can always try to condense a new one, but the chance is that you'll never be as gifted as you were."

They both knew that the chance of him being able to condense a new mana core within the next three years was almost zero. Even taking 15 years - the age it took for his first mana core to naturally condense - wouldn't be surprising. At that point, he would be better just going into a labouring job.  

Deep breath. A swell of thoughts rose up, choking him on their possibilities.The pride that he once had, as strongest in his age group, disappeared like a star on a cloudy night. His shoulders trembled and the only thing holding him upright was his mother, who had wrapped her arms around him. 

"But we'll find a way. Come rain or storm, you're my son, and together, we can do this."

"Yes Ma..."

There was actually a way to condense a new mana core, however with his family having used all of their money to practically raise him from the dead, even the cheapest of materials were unobtainable for them. The density and mana concentration of the material would have a direct impact on the quality of his mana core,  meaning the perfect item would be something similair to a mana rich stone, crystal, or metal. None of these materials were even close to being available to Lazarus. Often, even if one wanted to obtain them, they would only be found in small quantities and for extortionate price. During his youth, the most important time to train in mana, he would have to find new ways to live life.

That night, his hopes were shattered. But for some reason, it didn't hurt as much as he thought it would.