"Stand up and remove your tunic Jiran," Samris commanded. His tone left no room for arguments. Even so, Jiran hesitated, he couldn't keep the look of suspicion off his face.
Seeing Jiran pause, and realizing the implications Samris quickly raised his hands in front of himself waving them frantically.
"I'm just going to track the flow of mana as it passes through you, please don't get any strange ideas, Jiran."
With a sigh of relief at the misunderstanding Jiran did as he was told. Samris then handed him a small orange pill.
"Eat this, but do not attempt to control the Density as it is released."
"Yes, Lord Feylon." Jiran responded as he retrieved the pill from Samris’s hand.
"While we are in this room, with the wards active, you shall call me Samris. I do expect you to maintain proper decorum at all other times, is that clear?"
"Yes, Samris.'' Jiran stood still as Samris circled behind him and placed his palm on the boy’s bare back.
Without wasting further time and burning with curiosity, Jiran swallowed the pill.
The Density didn't release all at once like eating higher-tier food did. It slowly drifted away from the capsule, then was caught up in whatever force pulled the mana through his body to his neck. Jiran lost himself in the feeling of the mana moving through him.
The mana moved slowly in some areas, and quickly through others. He soon realized it was slowed when there was no easy path for the mana to travel through. When passing out of his stomach and up his throat, it moved rapidly. Then gently through the flesh and muscles of his neck and through his spine. When it reached the pin-sized hole at the base of his skull it seemed to fall into nothingness.
Jiran got the feeling that the mana was not actually going anywhere but changing somehow. In a way so alien that he couldn't sense it. He was so absorbed in his meditations that Samris had to ask him three times to take control of the Density released by the pill.
Flushing with embarrassment and vividly aware of the man touching his bare back, Jiran took control of the mana and let it pool into his stomach.
"I want you to move the mana to your feet then release it." Having never released mana after taking ownership of it, Jiran struggled for a few breaths before getting the hang of the feeling.
As expected, the mana moved aimlessly in his feet for a few seconds before making its way up to his spine. Samris had him repeat the exercise with every part of his body. By the time the pill stopped releasing its steady flow of energy, Jiran was covered in a light sheen of sweat from the mental exertion.
Once done, Samris motioned him to re-dress, then scribbled furiously in a notebook at his desk while Jiran watched anxiously.
"Your mana is behaving consistently with some form of injury. However, I could not detect any damage in your neck or head that the mana is attempting to heal. It's as if the mana vanishes upon nearing your skull. Did you receive a blow to the head recently? Or any other injury which you feel may be related?"
Samris continued to write as Jiran went over his memories as thoroughly as possible. "Nothing that I can remember, the only thing that happened that day was the Tier Four attacking. I watched the fight but it never attacked me."
"What about the injury, do you feel anything at all?" This was the moment Jiran had been fearing, he didn't want to lie to the man. He instinctively knew the whole truth would be a terrible idea though.
"There isn't any pain, but I do feel like my mana isn't vanishing. It feels like it's still there but changes somehow." Hoping that was enough information to not arouse any suspicions, Jiran nervously waited for the next question.
If Samris noticed Jiran was holding back he didn't show any signs of it as he continued frantically making notes.
"That's enough for today Jiran. You have an injury of some kind as the mana in your body is behaving consistently with passive healing. Usually the body stores around fifteen percent of all ingested Density to reinforce and grow toward the next tier.
However, in the case that a major injury is detected, that passive reinforcement is put on hold and one hundred percent of the ingested Density congregates at the site of the injury. Until it is no longer life-threatening."
With a steely gaze, Samris handed him a folded letter. "Take this to Sharaal, eat some lunch, then lie down for the rest of the day. Until your injury is no longer a threat to your well-being, do not attempt to control your mana, for mana knows best what the body needs."
With a nod of dismissal, Samris opened a book and began to read.
"Thank you, Lord Samris," Jiran said with a bow of gratitude.
Jiran arrived at the kitchen and handed the letter to Sharaal. She read the letter, her eyes popping open in disbelief. She then read the letter again, looked up at Jiran with clear confusion on her features, and finally read the letter a third time. Sharaal let out a sound somewhere between a groan of agony and a sigh then turned around and started cooking without saying anything to Jiran.
Confused but unwilling to engage the distraught woman, Jiran took a seat and patiently waited for lunch. He spent a few breaths trying to claim some Density but gave up quickly. Jiran found the air was absent of Density. He concluded that was most likely due to the presence of Samris in the Manor.
Several minutes later, a huge serving of meat was dropped in front of him by Sharaal.
"This may be the first Tier five meal served in the village for a year and it's going to a child, you better enjoy it and appreciate what this means." she said with a sigh.
Jiran was so shocked by the meal in front of him he barely heard her. He could feel immense waves of Density rolling off the meat. The Density swirled in the air with the delectable aroma then drifted back to the dish it had originated from. Like it wanted to escape but could not.
Coming out of his shock he tore off piece after piece and shoved them in his mouth all at once. Then was promptly smacked in the back of his head by a glaring Sharaal.
"I said eat it slowly, fool boy! A Tier One can barely handle that meal. If you devour it like some billik bird with a loran fish, it’ll rip your stomach apart."
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She was right, he could feel the first few bites he ate roiling in his stomach, releasing wave after wave of incredible Density through him. Jiran fought the urge to claim it and instead leaned back in his chair and allowed the thick Density to convert itself into mana then make its way to his injury.
Jiran, despite having the most extravagant meal in town, couldn't help but be overwhelmed with frustration.
What could I learn by having access to so much mana? How strong could I become? Could I learn about the true nature of Density and mana, how they alter reality?
Sharaal glared at him. "You had best wipe that look off your face child, you have no idea how lucky you are right now. This is not an easy land, there are people out there who would stick a knife in you for just a single bite of that meal."
Those words sobered Jiran up instantly, reminding him of such an unpleasant memory while he was trying to eat was beyond rude. Swallowing the last of the meat in his mouth, Jiran gave her as hard of a look as he could muster.
"Mrs. Sharaal, you have no idea what my circumstances are. I would appreciate if you kept such comments to yourself in the future."
It could have been the glare, it could have been the scars, it could have been the clear favor Samris had shown the boy. Whatever it was, Sharaal paled at his words, nodded, and beat a hasty retreat. Jiran did his best to enjoy the rest of his meal, he managed just fine. Sharaal was an excellent cook.
As massive as the infusion of Density from his meal was, the black hole in his neck gobbled it all up. Jiran trudged to his room in disappointment to lie down and consider his options.
I was hoping that would have fixed my injury, does that make sense though? Samris told me to rest after eating so maybe he knew that wouldn't be enough. That one meal shaved weeks off my recovery time though. What else could I do to recover? Rest for sure, do some light exercise, avoid digging out more memories, and learn more about the damage.
With nothing else he could accomplish at the moment, Jiran closed his eyes and fell into a deep recovery sleep. A soft knock at the door woke him from his slumber. Stumbling out of bed and cracking the door revealed one of the newly hired maids.
"Good morning, Lord Samris has asked you to join him in his study," she said in a gentle tone.
Good morning? Did I sleep all afternoon and night?
"Ohh, uh thank you, and good morning," Jiran said. He then spent a few moments awkwardly changing clothes and headed upstairs to the study.
Samris was waiting for him, as soon as Jiran entered and shut the door all the wards activated.
"Good Morning Jiran, I have outlined a recovery plan for you," Samris said while handing Jiran a small journal. With a nod of approval from the man, Jiran skimmed over the high points of his new routine.
Light exercise in the morning, breakfast, more exercises, followed by time in the library. Lunch, then errands, free time until dinner, and finally report and revision with Samris before bed.
Jiran was ecstatic, he was already feeling frustrated by not having access to any mana, time in the library might allow him to sate his curiosity about the strange magic. He hoped there were enough books available on the subjects he was interested in.
Also, a structured exercise routine would help him grow out of his current, scrawny, and half-starved appearance. Maybe he could even learn to shoot that bow of his.
Jiran’s bright smile and gleaming eyes were unmistakable as Samris led him out of the room and into the backyard.
Samris led him through a silent stretching routine that brought surface memories of something called yoga and Tai Chi to mind. He then schooled his thoughts before he accidentally dug deeper into Brandon’s memories.
Jiran was shaking and barely able to stand as the two made their way to a gazebo where breakfast had already been set out for them. Jiran wanted to scarf down his Tier Five breakfast but remembered Sharaal's advice and took his time. The look of approval Samris gave him at his restraint helped.
After eating it was straight back to the yard for a much harder session. Samris easily flowed from one well-practiced movement to another. Push-ups to a handstand, to upside-down push-ups, then sprints, squats, and long jumps. Exercise after exercise, Jiran was not able to keep up at all.
He did his best, one or two repetitions of each before he would collapse to the ground only to get back up and try the next. He puked ten minutes in but refused to stop trying his best. The constant sight of Samris's lean, muscular build, fluidly moving from one form to the next was strong motivation to emulate the man.
Second Father was just cresting the manor wall when Samris stopped and led Jiran to the manor’s private creek. The crystal clear water reflected the myriad of lights from the sky before the two jumped into the frigid water.
It wasn't long until Jiran finally found himself in the library. Wards came alive as soon as the doors closed behind them and Samris spoke for the first time since they had left his study.
"I have laid out your curriculum for the coming weeks, I expect you to bring your education up to the standard of a squire your age with the same diligence you have shown me so far.
“Typically a squire in training would begin their studies by their fifth season. Seeing as you are going into your eighth season you have a significant amount of information to absorb.
"I will not be guiding your lessons or pushing you, this time will be yours to test yourself. A man is his thoughts, for thought always precedes action. Sharpen your mind young Jiran, for it will sharpen every aspect of your life.”
Then he was gone and Jiran was alone in the library at last. He would have wiped the drool from his mouth if he could lift his arms. Instead, he dug into the books laid out for him by Samris; History of the Finlest Empire, Primer on Basic Numerology, and The Making of the World.
Not exactly as exciting as a tome on ancient rune constructs or how to make exploding arrowheads like Skandor. However, Jirans curiosity about the world he lived in was insatiable so he dug into the suggested books and lost himself in their pages.
One of the maids called him for lunch which turned out to be another delicious meal with the now familiar tastes of Sharaal's cooking. Forcing himself to eat slowly when all he wanted to do was run back to the library, may have been the most difficult part of his day.
There were no errands for him today, so he gleefully spent his afternoon in the library, free time was unsurprisingly library time as well, and when the knock for dinner came his brain was finally starting to show signs of fatigue. During his meal, he was handed a note from Samris instructing him to head to sleep after dinner and meet him in the field before First Father in the morning.
Exhausted in brain and body, Jiran collapsed on his far too comfortable bed and was instantly asleep.
Between morning stretching and breakfast the following day, Micah showed up with three carts full of barrels of produce. He spoke briefly to Samris who inspected the cargo and guards Micah had chosen. Before they left, Micah took Jiran to the side to speak with him.
"Jiran, it's good to see you. Are you getting along okay here?" Jiran noted the concerned creases on his forehead and around his eyes, clearly he wanted to say more but held back.
"I'm doing great here Uncle, truly great. I get to study in the library, Lord Samris has over two hundred books! The food is amazing too and we have a plan for fixing my injury. I can't imagine there being anywhere better for me than here. Please don't worry about me and take care of yourself on the road, okay?
"Ohh, and uhm, did you get a chance to talk to dad and mom?" Repressed feelings began to bubble up at thoughts of his parents. Jiran looked up hopefully at his uncle after asking, mentally begging for some good news.
"Yes I spoke to your father. We both think it would be best for you to keep your distance for now, at least until you're healed. The priests have put some strange ideas into your mother's head about heathens rejected by the voice of the world or some nonsense. Regardless, it should all clear up when you're back to normal, so you just keep focusing on that, Alright. I'm glad you're doing well and i'll pass that along to your father."
With a huge hand patting him on the head as farewell, Micah and the caravan guards headed out of town. A part of Jiran desperately wanted to join them, exploring the world had a charm that no library could match. Doing any worldly exploring without mana on the other hand was a sure death sentence.