Samris’s Perspective

Samris gazed at the ghostly image in front of him. It was a panorama of a boy sitting cross-legged, a cube floated between his hands.

Samris’s eye twitched in irritation. He knew Jiran was special from the moment the boy ran up to him and spoke, as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

For Samris, that was his first conversation with another human in fourteen seasons. For two years he had secluded himself after the incident. He certainly never imagined that the little village he chose for his self-imposed exile could hold the secret to curing his curse.

How was Jiran immune? Where did his mana disappear to? There was a connection, both Samris and Lenton agreed on that much. Jiran’s injury held the clue that nobility had searched for since before the birth of the empire.

Unique individuals were hardly rare in Madra. The powerful became more powerful and the weak died to pave their way. Any warrior with a slight advantage would quickly rise to the top, making waves across the land.

Usually these individuals would become the new nobility. Killing their way to the very top of society. At the top of the empire, most noble families could trace their lineage back to at least one individual who was Unique.

Always the Unique had power outside the confines of the tiers. For Samris, it was his voice. A single syllable spoken by him would turn anyone who heard it into a shadow of what they once were. Barely functional, only capable of responding to direct questions and completing simple commands.

Until they were snapped out of the spell by another. The worst of it was, Samris could not break his own spell.

Samris shuddered as his thoughts turned dark. He refocused on Jiran as he banished the ghosts of his past.

Jiran was Unique. Perhaps the most Unique individual Samris had ever heard of.

The boy intuited new tasks as if he had completed them a thousand times. He picked out embellishments and half-truths from the books he read as if he was standing over the authors' shoulders, critiquing their work as they wrote it.

He could hold a conversation with Lenton of all people, even challenge the ancient legend to consider well-known principles from new angles. As if thousands of years of history were nothing more than a plaything. The child warped and twisted everything he touched. Always for the better, constantly improving, iterating, and adding.

For the last season, Jiran appeared to be just a peerless academic genius. For a child to display his level of competence was astounding. When he matured, he would take the empire by storm rewriting everything they thought they knew.

But things changed, as they often do. Jiran regained the use of his mana. His injury seemingly healed. Then the real problems began.

Never in Samris’s wildest dreams would he have expected a child to master mana forcing. To push the muscles to their maximum with mana, or pull against them to increase the intensity of an exercise.

The technique was only taught to imperial soldiers who showed great promise. The very few who managed to master the technique would invariably become elites. Life-long protectors of the empire's important figures.

Jiran had asked a simple question, ‘Why does your mana flare up when we are doing this exercise?’ After being answered the boy intuited the technique instantly, and mastered it in a week. That was when Samris contacted his old mentor, Lenton.

Only the legendary scholar, Lenton Filibree could push Jiran to greatness. Samris needed Jiran to be challenged, he fully believed that if the child was not pushed, he would never discover the secrets to Samris’s curse.

It was a welcome balm to speak with his old master again. Only those who were Unique could resist Samris’s ability, and truly, few were as Unique as Lenton.

The surprises Jiran had in store for the duo only mounted as time progressed. In particular, the most outlandish accomplishment was absorbing Density from Densoon waves. Everyone knew it was impossible, the only exception being the most basic form of absorption, through the breath.

Yet Jiran flipped all common knowledge on its head once again. ‘Just match the mana on your skin to the Densoon wave.’ As if such a thing were possible. How was one supposed to match something that had not happened yet?

Densoon Density was truly chaotic, no pattern existed, and even Jiran claimed he was not sensing a pattern.

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Now Lenton spent his days in isolation, somewhere nearby, trying to replicate the feat. Every time Samris saw the old man, he appeared slightly more ragged and unhinged.

Thankfully Lenton left the task of observing Jiran to Samris. Before this survival training he had cleared out every beast above Tier two from around the training grounds. In typical Jiran fashion the boy had wandered outside the safe area and even found a Tier four beast on the first day!

Samris had immediately teleported to save him, but before he could act the bear was already a smoking ruin.

Samris wanted to grab his hair and rip it out by the handful. Jiran was breaking everything. His shapings were impossibly powerful, his control baffled the mind, and the speed at which he learned would make the most proclaimed genius fall to their knees in despair.

Currently, the boy had unlocked a full third of the treasure cube and would likely complete it within the moon they gave him. An absurd task to be sure. An attempt to humble the boy so he accepted Lenton’s lessons without complaint, was turning into a complete joke. A joke at the expense of his mentors.

That treasure cube had rested in the Imperial Academy of Cruex for generations. Created by an unknown sage in the Era of Ascension, only a dozen people on record had ever opened the cube. The only living individual was Lenton himself.

Samris sighed. What would he unleash on the world by finding and saving this child? At least they managed to separate him from his parents. The mother was completely insane, locked in their little church for ‘protection’.

The father was decent enough and clearly cared for the boy. Unwilling to walk away from the charms of his wife though, despite the rampaging beast that could easily be seen lurking in her eyes. Who knows, maybe that's exactly why he stayed.

In comparison to his parents, Jiran was a saint. Diligent, attentive, and receptive to the feelings of those around him. Samris did not worry about the changes to the empire Jiran would bring. He worried about those who would come scurrying out of the dark cracks, to use the boy for their own ends.

Jiran was not yet ready. Samris was determined to do whatever it took to prepare the boy.

He needed Jiran.

The empire needed Jiran.

Samris would protect him, he swore to himself for the hundredth time.

Jiran’s Perspective

Two weeks passed, and Jiran remained diligent. Flowing through the motions of Samris’s teachings in the morning. Followed by experimentation for a few hours and then working on the cursed cube for the remainder of the day.

The biggest change in the last week was his new neighbors. The monkey finally worked up the courage to lure a beast into Jiran’s territory. Predictably, the beast died instantly upon being sighted by the boy. When half of the meat had been left out for the monkey, it brought its entire clan to claim the meal.

They stuck around and now brought a new beast to Jiran every day. Usually only in the third or second Tier.

A symbiotic relationship was quickly formed, the monkey’s always warned him when the fresh prey was near, and Jiran made sure to leave half the meat for them.

They never entered his cave, preferring to stay in the large tree on top of his hill.

Today, Jiran was adamant about making more progress on the cube. Yesterday, he finally managed to balance three shapings around the cube simultaneously. For a full hour, he sat in extreme focus, attempting to understand the sensations from his mana body.

The sudden impressions from activating his mana body always broke his concentration, ruining the delicate balance of the three shapings.

Bringing his mental state under control Jiran sat and picked up the cube. Adding fire, then ice, and finally wind, Jiran was once again opened to his mana body.

The first and most apparent observation Jiran made about the mana body was that it was composed from Density, not mana. An important distinction, as once Density is absorbed and converted to mana, only then does it become controllable.

The second observation was that this Density was not the same as ambient or chaotic Density. The differences were subtle and varied. These multiple minor differences added up to create an entirely different energy.

If Jiran were to try and explain it to someone from Earth, he would likely compare it to AC and DC currents. Both were electricity, but one was usable in everyday appliances while the other was not.

He had tried to claim the Density of his mana body several times already. However, it wasn't inside of him and wasn't connected to his mana in any way. There was no bridge to close the gap, allowing his emotions and thoughts to reach it.

Jiran decided to ignore the mana body for now. If he thought of a new way to try and claim the energy he would try it. However, he was determined to complete the cube before he ran out of time.

Jiran contemplated how to add water to the shapings. He knew all the other elements would be altered in various ways. The most obvious solution would be to just add water to the mix, and fix each problem that cropped up one at a time.

How exactly was he supposed to do that though? His two hands were occupied with fire and ice, his breath with wind. What did he have left to manipulate the final element?

Trying to use his feet was out of the question, breaking his meditative pose would disrupt all the mana in his body, and such a major change in sitting posture could take him two or three days to resolve.

After half a day of practice, perspiration beaded on Jirans forehead as he struggled with the delicate balance of Elements. He took a short break to wipe the sweat from his brow. Then promptly smacked himself for being so daft.

Sitting back down once more, he conjured the three elements again. With sweat dripping from his chin he leaned forward slightly and pushed mana into his face.

The reactions around the cube were as numerous as they were chaotic. All four elements immediately destabilized.

Jiran groaned from the mental exertion.

Recalling as much as he could about the destabilizing effects, he took another short break and tried again.

Then again and again.

Long after darkness filled his cave, Jiran pushed himself to hold the fourth shaping for more than a second.