Wyatt spent the next hour teaching Isaac his own skills. Having spent the majority of the day learning air magic, he knew the first step was to teach the kid how to feel his mana. Then he needed to adapt that mana to resemble the desired spell school, learning the corresponding skill in the process. From there, it was simply a matter of performing the proper hand movements, saying the correct word or words, or as is evidently the case with the Shield spell, setting your mind on the correct thought. Wyatt assumed that different spells, specifically higher-level spells, would require more difficult combinations of each.

Wyatt thought briefly on the term he was using for them. They were technically spells, and he tended to refer to them as such, but the system considered them abilities, similar to the physical abilities the martial fighters had. The main difference from what he could tell was the mana required to use his. This made it possible to channel more into the ability in question to change the effectiveness. Like putting more strength into a punch, just in my mind. He laughed at himself, then turned his attention back to his young apprentice.

Isaac was surprisingly smart for his age, owing only partly to his increased stats since coming to this world. He was able to learn earth magic by the end of the hour, and successfully cast Rock Spike at a far wall before his mana gave out.

When Isaac sat down for a break, Wyatt turned his attention back to his own skills. His understanding of mana, particularly how it felt as it flowed inside of him, had increased by quite a bit that day, and the mage wanted to try his hand at his chrono magic. The problem was, he didn’t know how it was supposed to feel. He could imagine how earth mana felt because he had an earth ability, and he could simply feel the mana as he used that. The same thing applied to his other skills.

His air magic was slightly different, as he had learned the skill before he learned the ability. This, too, didn’t help his situation, as the feeling of that type of mana was described to him by someone else, and the feeling of air was easier to envision and replicate than that of time.

How do you feel time?

Wyatt spent the night trying in vain to feel time magic inside of himself, but only managed to drain his mana as he let out bursts of it in hopeless attempts.

Brad and Angela had spent the hour sparring with each other. They were able to level their corresponding weapon skills to level five already, and it looked to Wyatt like they were getting better. Then again, anything would be an improvement to how they fought before, swinging, and stabbing wildly and backing away for fear of getting hurt.

Chuck had improved his skill with his bow by shooting at a target he set up, and Cecilia spent the time learning how to use one of her skills better. Wyatt didn’t know what the skill was called, but it seemed to him like it was just a strong punch. It may have been boring to look at, but the many shattered rocks near her, and the thunderous boom that accompanied the attack were a testament to its power.

Marlene spent her time healing the two sparring partners as they needed it, as well as the girl, who had split the skin on her knuckles on multiple occasions. The healer would spend the time between tending their injuries and sitting with Margie. She seemed to take comfort in the old lady’s singing, which was surprisingly good, Wyatt had to admit. Not to mention the boost to stamina and mana recovery everyone benefited from when they were in earshot.

By the time training was over, the sun had already set, and the last vestiges of light had disappeared. The mood around the fire that night was an improvement to the night before, now that a clear path forward was in site.

“Thanks for the advice on mana usage,” Chuck said to Wyatt between bites of bread, “I was able to put more mana into my shot and increased its damage.”

“Does it seem like something you can use in a fight?” responded the mage.

“Maybe, but it wouldn’t be a good idea in a prolonged fight with the mana drain being what it is. The amount of time it takes to charge increases, too, and it seemed like the more I put into it, the harder it was to put more in, like there’s an upper limit. Still, it’s not a bad opening move if I can get a jump on my target. Anything we can use to increase our chances of survival.”

Wyatt heard some positivity in his last sentence, as if, for the first time since coming to this world, the thought of survival was no longer a distant dream.

“There’s something else, too,” continued the archer, “When I pumped more mana into it blindly, the hole it left in the rock I shot it at was deeper. However, when I channeled my mana with the intent of increasing the size of the blast the hole was shallower, but much wider. I think there’s more to increasing the effectiveness of a spell than just making it stronger.”

“So, we should be able to adapt a skill or ability to create a completely different effect.” Wyatt was impressed, and a little ashamed he hadn’t thought of that himself.

“Doesn’t seem to help me any,” Brad chimed in, “My abilities all use stamina, so I can’t just ‘swing harder’ unfortunately.”

“Agreed,” added Angela, “Still, today was good practice.”

“I saw you sparring,” said Wyatt, “you’re making good use of your thrust skill mid-combat.”

“Oh yeah? You like my thrust?” Angela made an obscene gesture with her hips, eliciting laughter from the others at the fire, and a glare from Marlene as she tried to keep an excitable Cecilia from repeating the motion.

Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

“That’s not what I meant!” Wyatt laughed, blushing despite himself, “I saw how you used the ability; it was good.”

Wyatt recalled the fight he was able to watch earlier. Angela went to strike at the larger man, who began swinging his axe wildly, stopping her advance in both an offensive and defensive maneuver. The agile skirmisher dodged backwards, then used her Critical Thrust ability, coming back much quicker than the barbarian anticipated as she lunged forward. Catching him off guard, she was able to stab clean into his shoulder, which brought his health down to half in one attack, ending the fight immediately.

“Cheap move,” Brad retorted, but Wyatt sensed nothing but respect in his voice.

“Relax, big man,” the skirmisher mocked, “you still won more times than I did, with your annoyingly high toughness.”

The party ate and laughed for a while longer, trading gibes and training advice. When the kids had fallen asleep, the others decided they should do the same. Chuck had asked Angela for some advice on swordsmanship, and the two volunteered for first watch, leaving Wyatt and Brad for second.

Wyatt fell asleep much easier that night, and not just because of the bedroll. He felt the same hope the others felt; hope for the future. When Angela woke him later that night for his watch, he came to much easier than the night before.

Angela let him know the night had been uneventful. He thanked her, then took up his seat beside Brad, who looked like he would fall back asleep any second.

“Sleep better tonight?” Wyatt asked.

“I did,” answered the barbarian, “I didn’t want to wake up. Any other day I would have just called into work.”

Wyatt chuckled with the big man. It seemed he was feeling more like his old self.

Wyatt and Brad talked through the night almost continuously. Wyatt could tell Brad was still a little off from who he was before the system, often times going silent when certain topics came up, or cutting any laughter short. It seemed like the majority of the anger he felt recently was due to the worry he felt for his family. Seeing the dangers they faced so far made him wonder constantly what dangers they themselves had faced, and if they had appeared in this canyon or somewhere else.

At least, Wyatt hoped that it was just worry.

Still, Wyatt felt like things were finally getting back to normal with the man, a sentiment that made him truly happy, as he had enjoyed the conversation they shared before the integration. Wyatt made sure not to talk about his family as much as he could.

The first person to wake up was Cecilia. She had walked over to the two on watch with bread in her hand. She bit into it and did not look too happy at having to eat it.

“Not fond of bread?” Wyatt asked the girl.

“I’m not fond of rocks,” she retorted, as the hard bread crunched in her mouth. Wyatt’s eyes went wide at her fast response, and Brad couldn’t help but laugh.

“Fair enough,” the mage said, finally joining in on the barbarian’s laughter, “What are you doing up? You probably have another hour of sleep.”

“I woke up and couldn’t go back to sleep.”

“Couldn’t?” Brad asked knowingly, “Or didn’t want to?” Cecilia was quiet, not wanting to answer the question. “It’s OK to have nightmares. I’ve been having them too.” Cecilia looked shocked at the big man, obviously thinking him immune to any kind of pain, mental or otherwise.

“Me too,” admitted Wyatt, albeit more hesitantly. “With everything that’s happened to us since coming to this world, I bet everyone has been having them.”

Cecilia looked back at the camp. They could barely make out the forms of the others as they slept in the dark, but she could easily see where her family was sleeping.

“When do they go away?” the girl finally asked quietly.

Wyatt couldn’t answer.

“They’ll fade, eventually,” answered Brad, putting an arm around her shoulders, “but I’m not sure they’ll ever be gone for good.” It was an honest answer, one Wyatt felt he already knew, but wouldn’t have been able to say to the little girl. Brad obviously saw more strength in her than the mage had, and he realized that it was a mistake on his own part having not seen it himself.

The three continued for a while before it was time to wake the others. They shared their breakfast of bread and jerky; some wishing they had better food, others simply wishing for a cup of coffee.

While traveling later that day, Chuck had mentioned the cliffs on either side of them seemed to be getting lower as they continued, and it renewed their hope that they would be nearing the end of this unnatural canyon.

They lost the better part of a day’s worth of travel when they had reached a fork in the road. While they stood there discussing which path they should take, it was Margie that started walking to the left. Not having anything to base the decision off of, the rest of the party followed. It was obvious to them they had chosen wrong when they noticed the downhill trend of the path, but by the time the party had made it back to the fork, the day was already nearing its end.

Chuck, however, had managed to shoot a fox with his bow, thanks partly to Wyatt holding it in place for him. It had gone down in one hit, and Marlene, surprisingly, taught the rest of the group how to skin and prepare the meat. There wasn’t much, but everyone was excited for something that wasn’t old jerky and stale bread.

That was until they ate it. They quickly found out that fox meat, when prepared incorrectly – and seeing as how they had no spices that’s exactly how it was prepared – was not the best thing to eat. Still, it saved them some of their dwindling supply of food.

It also gave Marlene something to put her mind to besides tending to her kids. When she was instructing the others on how to skin the small animal, she was as robotic as she had been the last few days. Eventually, her voice grew the slightest hints of emotion, even laughing at Isaac as he had to hold in the previous meal at the sight.

The rest of the night was spent with the usual sparring and skill practice. Wyatt had even managed to level his quarterstaff skill to level two. He felt proud of that, even if it did come with a few cuts from Chuck, who seemed to be grasping the finer points of swordplay better after some instruction from Angela.

She had, apparently, started to understand how the system classified learning. Swinging her sword wildly for an hour would mean nothing, but getting faster at deflecting attacks or learning new ways to hold and swing the sword was where the system began to grant levels in skill usage when practicing.

Wyatt tried applying this to his own practice later that night while on watch. With Brad watching him, he tried moving in different ways, similar to how he had seen on movies or games. Unfortunately, he was never particularly good at fighting, and his efforts only managed a dropped staff and disappointing shake of the bigger man’s head. He decided he had had enough practice after that.