Jiran couldn’t ever remember feeling so miserable. That first group of bandits had not been the last. Lenton had zipped them both around the forest, tracking three other bands of the filthy outlaws. At least his mentor waited for confirmation of wrongdoing before sending Jiran in to clean up.
Only one group had been spared.
At first, Jiran thought he would be fine. His justification that they were hardly more than wild beasts with faces. That wishful thinking didn’t last long.
Twice more he had to kill a Tier four bandit and the red mist entered his body. Twice more, Jiran cried and emptied his stomach at the violation of that invasive energy entering his body.
The thought of benefiting from such a grisly task had been too much. No matter how he tried to rationalize it, the red mist made him feel like he was being paid to murder.
That was three days ago. Jiran only left his room to relieve himself since they returned. He was tired of having the same conversation with himself. Attempting to vindicate his actions with the same flimsy logic.
I don’t want this responsibility. The privileges of the powerful, what a joke.
Why did they have to turn against other humans? It’s so easy to work with each other, support one another, and build —.
Jiran’s thoughts were cut short by a soft sound on his door.
He didn’t answer.
The knock repeated itself again, this time followed by a familiar feminine voice.
“Jiran, are you awake? Can I talk to you, please?”
With a weary sigh, Jiran got out of bed and padded over to the door. Opening it a crack, he peeked out at Olive. He hadn't seen her since the training field. Her complete transformation in appearance was no surprise.
Clean, in unblemished robes, and with her hair trimmed, she was the shining image of a noble’s daughter. Her bright blue eyes looked at him with sadness and sympathy, she nearly started crying the moment their eyes met.
“This won’t do at all Jiran! I don’t like it when you appear so sad.”
She sniffled, doing her best to hold in the tears that ran down her rosy cheeks despite her efforts.
“Mother always cheers up Father when he looks like you do.” She said with a resolute nod as if coming to a decision about something important.
Olive slowly reached out and cupped his cheek with her hand.
Her fingers were soft and delicate, cold but comforting. Jiran had been about to pull away but stopped. The last time he had allowed a woman to comfort him was in the arms of his mother the day before she tried to kill him.
I’ve been through so much since then, so much suffering and killing.
The tender innocence that radiated from Olive’s expression was no more than any child wishing to help their friend after seeing them sad. Despite his instincts warning him to emotionally withdraw, he allowed her to continue.
Her fingers gently trailed closer to the back of his head, before clutching his ear in a vice-like grip. She then pulled him out of his room and began marching down the hallway.
“Ow, ow, ow, ow! What are you doing, let go of me!”
“I don’t want to have to do this Jiran! You’re coming outside and getting some exercise, the Fathers' light will do you right!”
She didn’t let go of his ear the entire way out into the yard, finally releasing him from her iron grasp as he collapsed onto the hard-packed ground.
“Cameron!” She screeched.
“Agh, my ear feels like it's going to fall off, was that really necessary?”
She ignored his whining as she stood tall and proud, waiting for Cameron, whom Jiran could hear running through the mansion. Fifteen seconds later the boy appeared, flustered and concerned.
Jiran was back on his feet at this point, standing awkwardly. He was considering walking back to his room but was honestly afraid of what the crazy girl would do if he tried it.
“Cameron, Jiran requires a sparring partner.”
“Understood,” His simple response was followed by Cameron assuming a high offensive stance, then he charged at Jiran.
What the hell! These kids are crazy!
Jiran barely dodged as a mana-infused punch was launched at his head. Cameron did not relent, he threw punches and kicks with no regard for his defenses. He chased after Jiran’s retreating form, a light smile on his face.
The training Jiran had done with Samris kicked in after only a few moments. He closely observed Cameron’s muscle movements in an attempt to predict his attacks. No longer retreating but holding his ground, he dodged punch after punch.
As the flow of Cameron’s attacks revealed themselves, Jiran decreased the movements of each dodge. Using the senses of his mana body, he avoided each strike with the least distance possible. Their skin nearly touched with each exchange.
The flurry of blows came to an end and Jiran assumed the offense. Using feints and speed, he tagged Cameron several times. Now both boys had a light smile as they went back and forth.
A short time later, Olive appeared from the door of the mansion with an outfit more suited for sparring. She jumped in behind Jiran. Using Cameron’s attacks as a distraction, she launched kicks and low sweeps in an attempt to bring him to the ground.
The three of them continued to spar for several hours. Cameron and Olive managed to land several blows on Jiran when he cut his evasions too close. Covered in bruises and dirt, the three collapsed against the side of the manor, breathing hard and laughing.
“Thank you, I feel a lot better now.”
“That’s wonderful! Cameron and I were delighted to help, isn’t that right Cameron?”
She’s smiling, but those are the eyes of a demon. You better agree Cameron, or what’s in store for you will be much worse than getting dragged around by your ear!
Cameron, far more used to Olive’s antics than Jiran, nodded vehemently without saying a word.
So young and already so wise, poor kid.
Olive stood up, inhaled as deeply as she could and with hands cupped around her mouth yelled at the top of her lungs.
“Grandpa Fiiiiiiiiilll.”
In a puff of smoke, and with a flourish of a bright orange cape Jiran had never seen him wear before, Lenton appeared before them.
“So soon? That should have taken at least another two weeks,” The old man said shamelessly.
This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
“Two weeks!? You told me he would be right out, you lied to me.” Olive responded, oblivious to the old man’s obvious teasing.
“Why two weeks is a trifle, my dear, surely one of your station has the patience to wait a measly two weeks.”
“You know I’ll be gone from here within a week! You promised, Grandpa Fil. Now, may we please have our lesson?” Olive spoke while stubbornly sticking out her jaw and narrowing her eyes.
Did she really drag me out here just so she could have a lesson with this old hermit? What’s with the Grandpa nonsense, there’s no way they’re related. Maybe he’s a family friend? Doesn’t matter, might as well try to learn something.
“Yes, yes, as you wish little one,” pretending to dust off his ridiculous cape, Lenton sat on empty air in front of them.
Hovering a meter off the ground, he looked down at them with an imperious gaze. His eyes met each childs’ individually to make sure he had their attention before he began.
“Today we will learn about moderating the power of your shapings. Oliviala, if you would be so kind as to explain how you were taught to accomplish this.”
“Yes Grandpa,” She said with a nod.
Jiran was surprised to see how intense both she and Cameron were, their eyes practically glowed with excitement and their bodies vibrated with barely restrained energy.
Maybe I underestimated Lenton, I’ve never seen these two look so giddy. Considering he’s barely taught me anything since we met, I guess I understand being curious at the very least.
“To modulate the power of a shaping, one must simply adjust the mana output at the desired location.”
As an example, she held out her hand and a ball of swirling smoke appeared. Then the smoke expanded to double its size, then down to a quarter, then back to double before she released the shaping.
“Excellent control Oliviala. Now, were you taught any other way to modulate the strength of a shaping?”
With her finger pressed to her chin, the adorable girl scrunched her face up in thought before responding.
“No? That’s the only way that I was taught. Is there another way Grandpa? Is that why Jiran’s shapings are so powerful!?” Olive’s exuberance at coming to her conclusion was accompanied by those shining eyes piercing into him.
Ugh too bright, turn those things somewhere else!
“That's correct, there is indeed another way to modulate your shapings. Jiran, would you care to elaborate?”
Eh? Seriously, you're going to push this whole lesson onto me and disappear, aren't you?
Jiran looked between Lenton, Olive, and Cameron. The two kids were leaning toward him now, expressions full of hope and longing.
They look like starving dogs waiting for me to put their food bowl on the ground.
After giving Lenton a squinty-eyed look of suspicion, Jiran began his explanation.
“Modulating of a shaping, or molding, can be adjusted through not just mana output, but also by changing the image one uses to create the effect.” Jiran demonstrated with a conjured ball of swirling air as he spoke.
I need to be careful here, I don’t want to give away information it wouldn't make sense for me to have.
“If I imagine the air I breathe out of my mouth, then my shaping is this strong. If I instead imagine one of the gasses that comprises my breath, the shaping will adjust to this strength. If I imagine the smallest and most stable portion of that particular gas, it changes again.
"Finally, the more details I add about the way that particular gas operates, naturally the more powerful it becomes.”
Jiran’s small ball of air rapidly changed as he spoke, starting at just the size of his fist. By the end, it had grown to be larger than his entire body. He took a moment to appreciate how far he had come since gaining access to his mana just a few short weeks ago.
His chest swelled with pride and his eyes stung with unshed tears. After so long of being denied his mana, to now feel the power of controlling the very forces of the universe was overwhelming.
Jiran was truly happy at that moment, sitting in front of the three, marveling at the ball of gas rotating above his palm. Powered by his mana and completely under his control.
This ball represented everything he had worked for until now. He couldn't stop the wide grin that split his face.
All three of his companions sobered instantly at the sight. At that moment, their thoughts aligned.
“Nothing good can possibly come from a face so evil."
A ball, just like the planet, how have I not even tried this yet?
With a thought and a push of his mana, the small ball in Jiran's hand vanished, replaced by something else entirely.
Olive didn't see anything there with her normal sight but mana could never conceal itself from her.
Resting in Jiran's palm was an invisible orb of energy to which he was slowly adding more and more mana.
Suddenly ,Olive realized she was getting closer to Jirans hand, confused, she tried to sit up straight again. She had not meant to lean toward him.
Except she couldn't move away. Some force had an iron grip on her body and was dragging her closer against her will.
As suddenly as it began, the force vanished along with the ball of mana. Both her and Cameron were able to move once more and jerked away from their crazy peer.
A sheepish grin spread across Jiran's face as he realized the distress he had caused Olive and Cameron.
Pushing through her fear, Olive tentatively raised her hand. The broken smile on her face snapped Jiran out of his reverie.
“Yes, Olive?”
“What’s a gas? Also, what do you mean ‘operates naturally’ and what was that ball of mana you just made?”
Jiran looked at Lenton who immediately turned to face away from him.
Shameless old bastard!
Resigned, Jiran sighed and dug into the explanation more thoroughly for the two. Afterward, he guided them both through several imaging exercises. With enough activities to keep them occupied for a while, Jiran turned his attention to Lenton.
The old man looked like he was sleeping. Jiran didn’t believe that for a second, considering he was still sitting on thin air. With a gentle tug on his sleeve and a light cough to get his attention, Jiran waited for a response.
“Yes, Jiran?”
“I have some questions, master.”
“I see,” Lenton responded. With a snap of his fingers, a small bubble of force popped into place around the two of them.
“Out with it then, I’ll answer your questions as best I can.”
“Thank you, master. I want to know more about the limitations of the mana body. I’ve noticed it charges automatically at a very slow pace, and much faster during Densoon waves. When I first unlocked it, I was able to push a small amount of my mana into it, but the process of doing so was very uncomfortable. Finally, I noticed that it reached a point of fullness after I had done so and could not expand further.”
Jiran waited patiently for a response from Lenton. After several seconds the old goat finally spoke in a wispy tone full of condescension.
“Funny, I didn’t hear a question in any of that. If there is something you wish to know, I suggest you at least attempt to be clear in the formulation of that wish.”
He really likes to push people's buttons, doesn't he?
Jiran’s eye twitched with annoyance before he responded.
“I would like to know if there is a more efficient way to charge the energy of the mana body. What exactly was that fullness I felt? Are there any methods to rapidly train my control over the mana body’s powers?”
“No.”
Jiran stared at Lenton in incomprehension for several seconds.
“No? No, what? I don’t understand, master.”
“No, I won’t be teaching you how to control your mana body, nor will I teach you how to charge it.”
Lenton sighed dramatically. His face then took on the visage of a hawk, fierce, deadly, and ready to strike.
“Jiran, I told you when we first met, that you hold the key to a secret I’ve been searching for. I’ve spent half my life attempting to unravel this mystery, and you are the best clue I’ve ever found.
“I could certainly spend my valuable time holding your hand, teaching you every detail about Density, mana, and the myriad skills of each tier. Or, I could let you figure it out yourself.
“In your search for answers, you may very well stumble upon the solutions I seek. By solving problems yourself, perhaps you will gain invaluable experience that will allow you to unravel the last mystery.
“Whether you succeed by accident or sheer competency, I care not. However, I will not be clipping your wings by holding your hand before you learn to fly.
“Now that I have made my stance on your education clear, I have three things to tell you.
“Never, under any circumstances, should you allow your mana body to drain completely. The recovery from such a situation can take seasons, even years.
“Continue to push your mana body in any way you can conceive of, you just might discover something even I do not know.
“Lastly, you are no longer permitted to read books. Misinformation or teachings from inferior tutors will only hold you back.
“Seek, discover, strive, experiment, learn, and fight. With tooth and nail drag yourself to the heights of this world. I will accept nothing less from you, Jiran.”