Toren Daen

I drew another sliver of mana from my core, ideas welling in my head. Lady Dawn had mentioned how a mage would visualize a spell, but her words struck a sympathetic note in my mind.

I had to work to my strengths in this world. In my previous life, I was a rather proficient computer programmer, and was on a career track for coding. And one of the common models for coding languages was being ‘object-oriented.’ In effect, it made the creation of duplicate objects or entities in programs easier by making a sort of template. All a programmer needed to do was make a ‘constructor’ that defined core variables, and they had an entirely new object from this template.

If I could visualize my spell the same way, with different variables for each part of the spell, like speed, direction, magnitude, etcetera…

I imagined a template for a fireball, an imaginary Java class file appearing in my mind. I was certain if there were any programmers from my previous life watching me, they’d surrender me to the High Sovereign immediately for using Java instead of something like Python or C++. Regardless, all I had to do was input the needed variables…

I opened my eyes and laughed in delight. Hovering over my palm was a small orb of fire the size of a marble. It wasn’t too hot: more of a comforting warmth, something I had tried to define with my spellcasting model. It danced above my palm, not burning me. I knew it wouldn’t: a mage couldn’t easily be hurt by their own spell. My attention wavered, however, causing the small bead of heat to vanish.

I looked back at Lady Dawn with a grin stretching across my face. I had succeeded in something entirely otherworldly. My Toren side wasn’t that impressed: magic was a common staple for him. But the ‘me’ from earth was utterly fascinated by what I had just done. Magic!

My smile slipped slightly as I noticed Lady Dawn’s stern expression. It occurred to me just then that what might be impressive for me was quite small on an asuran scale.

I coughed in embarrassment.

“Impressive for your third time attempting to cast a spell,” Lady Dawn acknowledged, but when delivered with her normal dismissive tone felt somewhat empty. “Continue to practice and experiment for a while,” she said. “Accustom yourself to your mana. Refine it.”

I opened my mouth to reply. When would we be doing physical training? Or honing my skill with the dagger? Toren had some minor skill in hand-to-hand combat and small weapons. Most Alacryans had a measure of skill with weapons regardless of their status. But I held my tongue. Lady Dawn was my teacher here; it was wise to do as she said.

I set to work, testing and trying my limits.

—

I lost track of time as I messed with my magic. I ‘stored’ templates in my memory as I made them: one for a simple fireball, another for a kind of ‘sound grenade’ spell that produced a loud bang when a sphere of thrown sound mana detonated.

As I cast my magic more, I also noticed that it became easier to ‘input values into variables,’ so to speak. The more I cast my fireball spell, the easier it became to do so. Every time I created a small, condensed ball of sound, my mana seemed to respond better than before.

I waved my hand, the motion helping me visualize my spell all the easier. It wasn’t necessary: I could technically pull mana from any point in my body and use it to cast a spell, but we humans always used our arms for everything anyway. A fireball coalesced in the air after a split second, a foot in diameter. Unlike my first success, this one burned hot and glowed with heat. It cast an orange glow across the dead leaves of the forest floor amidst the late afternoon gloom.

With a mental nudge, the fireball rocketed off towards my target: a rather tall boulder that stretched from the earth. It collided with the boulder in a small explosion of fire, blowing away a few chips of stone. What part of the stone hadn’t been damaged was scorched black, covering previous soot marks.

Switching tracks, I focused on my sound grenade spell, a condensed sphere of rippling sound mana growing in my palm. After a second, I lobbed the spell overhand toward the same rock. I strengthened my ears with mana, preparing for impact. Once the spell struck the stone, it detonated with a sound like a gong, rippling the nearby foliage and causing it to vibrate.

I exhaled, a slight smile on my face. I had made remarkable progress in my first few hours and was feeling a bit tired. My core wasn’t depleted much; only by about a quarter. And it was regenerating rapidly, even as I used it. I had the red feather in my core to thank for that.

I worked my shoulders, preparing to head out of the forest. It was going to be dark soon, and if I wanted a solid night’s sleep, I would have to head back now. I would return early the next day, of course.

I took a few steps towards the exit of the forest before the Unseen World masked my vision. Lady Dawn watched me sternly, her orange sundress muted in the darkening afternoon.

“What do you think you are doing, Contractor?” she said with iron.

“I was going to head back to the city,” I replied with confusion. “It's almost dark out, and if I want to get a good night’s sleep and avoid death by mana beast, I’ll have to head out now.”

Lady Dawn tilted her head. “Do you want to grow more powerful, Contractor?” she asked.

“Yes?” I replied uncertainly. I felt like I was about to step into a trap, the hook wrapped just around my foot now.

“Then you will stay in this forest for the night,” Lady Dawn said with finality. “I have yet to instruct you on knife and close-quarters combat forms. This day is not yet done. And you will need all the time you can spare to complete your goals,” she finished.

I furrowed my brow, looking past the phoenix to the glow of the city in the distance. It was warm and inviting compared to the looming unknowns of the forest. But Lady Dawn was right: if I wanted any chance to kill a Scythe, even the weakest of them, I couldn’t spare a moment.

I sighed, closing my eyes to center myself. I really did not like this forest, and I would probably like it less at night. It had many mana beasts, and I was honestly surprised none had tried to ambush me during my training so far.

“You’re right,” I said with slight resignation, turning away from the homely glow of Fiachra in the distance. “What will I need to do next?”

Lady Dawn’s glowing eyes dimmed slightly. “I shall instruct you on combat form,” she said. “Afterward? We shall see how competent you are,” she said with finality.

I gulped, remembering the barkskin grohd that had nearly killed me last time. I was far better prepared now, though. I closed my eyes, settling myself. Then, I strode back into the forest.

—

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Lady Dawn began my teaching differently than I expected.

“You will only train your footwork and balance today,” she said, watching my face morphing into confusion with her fire-eyes. “It is the most important foundation for a beginner.”

The clearing we were in was deeper into the forest than before, and I was already on edge about mana beasts. Also, when the Unseen World of darkness clouded my vision, my senses were more muted. I wouldn’t be able to sense things coming as easily as otherwise.

“May I ask how it is important?” I hedged. I wanted to know the whys behind my training. That made it easier for me to ingrain into my subconscious; a tactic I had used extensively to memorize information in my previous life.

“Footwork and balance are the largest commonalities across all fighting arts,” Lady Dawn replied. “It matters not how well one can swing a sword if they falter once the enemy gets close. And similarly, it matters not how proficient your footwork may be if your recovery from being tripped or pushed is unsatisfactory.”

I nodded slowly, seeing her point. Furthermore, practically every single injury I received in this forest was due to poor mobility. I had been tackled by a skaunter–one of those rat-lizard creatures–and thrown to the ground, allowing it to rip into my arm. If I had better reflexes, I could have avoided being so easily cast down. And with my weaker mana shroud from being an innate conjurer, avoiding enemies was the name of the game instead of outright defense.

“To train my balance, will I just continue to parkour around these trees with my telekinesis?” I asked.

“Partially,” Lady Dawn replied, not explaining further. “Come. I will go through the motions of footwork, and you shall repeat them.”

I nodded. I watched Lady Dawn as she drifted across the ground. She never crossed her feet, and when she sped up she moved her legs in more complicated motions to compensate. She sometimes shifted to a wider stance, sometimes more narrow, but never did she move a step out of place. There was an obvious grace of practice to her movements, one that left me in silent awe.

I knew basic boxing footwork from my previous life and the standard footwork drills, but what Lady Dawn was doing seemed leaps and bounds beyond that. After a few seconds of contemplation, I realized that it was likely designed for the hyperspeed of augmenter combat. When mages could move as fast as a train, their combat styles would need to change to compensate.

Eventually, Lady Dawn began to move fast enough that I needed to strengthen my eyes with mana to keep track of her. Her steps became more complicated, and I struggled to memorize all she was doing. With her speed, she should have been kicking up leaves and dirt, leaving furrows in the earth, but nothing on the forest floor was disturbed.

Then she stopped, coming to a smooth halt in her original position. “Match those movements,” she said, staring a hole through me. “I will correct you as you follow through the steps.”

“Okay,” I replied nervously, struggling to remember all I saw. “I’m gonna need help with this, I think,” I said, settling into the stance I saw Lady Dawn take.

I felt warm hands on my shoulders, adjusting my form with gentle force. I shuddered involuntarily: Lady Dawn had moved behind me somehow, faster than I could see. “Relax, Contractor,” she said. “A looser stance is required for increased mobility. Do not tense your shoulders.”

I exhaled, forcefully un-tensing my shoulders. I began to step through the motions, being corrected every so often by a stern Lady Dawn. As the minutes dragged by and I began to iron the motions into my muscle memory, I began to speed up, using the reinforcement I got from mana to augment my speed.

I almost immediately tripped over my own legs, eating dirt in an embarrassing faceplant. I turned over, staring up at the darkening sky. It was late evening now: dusk was approaching. That meant mana beasts. It felt like I couldn’t improve fast enough.

“Do not be discouraged,” Lady Dawn said over me, blocking out the sky. “Failure is to be expected. You will succeed in time.”

I groaned, closing my eyes. The phoenix was trying to be encouraging, I knew. But the way she said it hurt. Like she expected me to fail innately.

I pulled myself to my feet, dusting off the front of my shirt and wiping away the dirt I could. “Thanks,” I said somewhat half-heartedly. What I was learning would be just like any other skill. With practice came mastery.

It was about an hour before Lady Dawn finally called a halt to our training. For the last thirty minutes or so, I had been instructed to weave through the surrounding trees, always keeping a specific one facing me. It was a practical application of footwork, and I had quickly learned not to cross my feet as I circled each tree, spinning and whipping about at slightly-enhanced speeds. I had tripped doing that once and had rammed my shoulder painfully into the bark of an oversized clarwood tree. Luckily, I hadn’t dislocated it this time, but it would certainly bruise.

It was well and truly dark now, and I relied heavily on mana-strengthened sight to avoid anything in my path. It added an aura of fear to everything I was doing. I couldn’t see nearly as well as in the daylight, even with mana enhancing my eyesight. And as the sun set, the growls and calls of different mana beasts began to ring throughout the canopied forest, sending chills down my spine.

I still wasn’t that deep within the forest, only about a ten-minute jog from the exit. I was itching to just up and leave, but the expectations Lady Dawn placed on me weighed heavily on my shoulders. If I left, I doubted she would teach me again.

I was sweating heavily, my clothes soaked through. I took a swig from my waterskin, which was now nearly empty. I groaned in irritation: I would have to get more somewhere.

The Unseen World washed over my vision once more, revealing an unphased Lady Dawn. She was near a towering clarwood tree but wasn’t leaning on it. That was something I had learned about Lady Dawn: she never, ever relaxed. And unfortunately, I wasn’t allowed to, either. At least she hadn’t made me train with the disorienting darkness of the Unseen World smothering my vision and senses.

“It seems it is time for our regimen to change,” the phoenix said, observing me as I heaved for breath. “You have trained your footwork well so far. Now, it is time for balance.”

“Great,” I said between breaths. “Just- just gimme a minute,” I said. My legs ached already, each movement sending a fresh wave of burning exhaustion through my limbs. And I was very, very hungry. I hadn’t had much to eat yesterday or today, something that was the norm for Toren. But Toren also didn’t exercise this much.

When I had gathered myself, the Unseen World vanished from my vision. With a bit of renewed vigor, I gathered mana in my legs and leaped into the trees, using a pull of telekinesis to help me along. I alighted on one of the lowest branches, holding my arm to the trunk for balance. As I surveyed the trees laying before me, I realized that even with mana strengthening my eyes I struggled to see in the dark.

That meant if I wanted to get the most out of this, I would need to summon light to guide me.

But that would draw mana beasts.

Lady Dawn undoubtedly knew that. In fact, I was willing to bet she was counting on it. I sighed, then closed my eyes. I didn’t have a template for creating a small will-o’-wisp of flame, but I didn’t need one for this spell. As it wasn’t for combat, I could afford to take a few seconds to summon it.

A few small orbs of fire appeared around me, casting light in a small radius. They were unnaturally cool for flame, and I suspected no fire burned this cold. Thankfully, mana made physics optional. I could see further now, but I was also a beacon to anything in this forest. I would have to keep moving.

I leaped to a nearby branch, using a pull of telekinesis to adjust my path midair. I landed with a light wobble, then peered around for my next branch. I was heading south intentionally: after all, a stream was in that direction somewhere.

The shade of night and a few hovering marbles of fire were my only companions as I darted through the night, hopping from branch to branch. My legs still burned from use, but the intermittent leaps and gaps between them allowed me to recover somewhat. My footing became more sure as I navigated southward at a surprising speed, getting into a natural rhythm.

After about ten minutes, I could finally hear the stream nearby. It gurgled to my enhanced ears, an enticing reward for such a long trek. I landed on a branch, and as I took a bare second to find another branch, my senses screamed at me to move.

The feeling was like I was being watched, but heightened to eleven. It caused my heart to jump in my throat, and I made a split-second decision. I jumped to a different branch yanking my hand down, an accompanying white pulse of telekinesis pulling me to the next foothold a bit higher in the air.

And not a moment too soon: something flashed to the branch I was at before. Peering back, I could spy an old enemy. I could barely see the thing in the dark, its bark-textured skin blending near perfectly with the tree it lounged against. Only the orange spines, usually helpful for blending into the canopy above, allowed me to clearly spy on the creature. A long, whiplike tail wrapped around the tree, anchoring the four-legged lizard to the clarwood.

And beady eyes filled with hunger watched me as we squared off in the treetops. A barkskin grohd once again tried to make me its meal.