“Wait what?” Corrin’s voice was stunned, and Wyn saw him whip around out of the corner of his eye.
Wyn however didn’t freeze at the words, he didn’t gasp, nor was he even really shocked. In fact, as he thought about them, Nereus’s words made sense. If spirit fire would prevent him from being a channeler, could being a mage be so bad? He knew that, and he could wrap his head around it, but something about it just felt… off.
He realized he was fidgeting with the pommel of this sword, a nervous habit of his, and he took a deep breath. Tor had said it himself, he was handicapped as a spirit knight, if he couldn’t draw mana, he would always be weaker than a channeler who could. So maybe… maybe becoming a mage was the right thing to do?
“I—”
“Now hang on Wyn,” Tor interrupted. Once again, his voice was unignorable, asserting itself with an immutable authority. He was staring at Wyn with a searching look. “I said it was a handicap, and it is, but perhaps not as large of one as you assume. You have plenty of talent to do either, and there are paths that could help to make up for your weakness. Don’t commit yourself to a path just yet.”
Wyn closed his mouth. Tor stared at him a moment longer and then nodded.
“Good man. Nere will have all week to convince you, and if he does, well I’ll toast to the death of a promising spirit knight, but that’s just me. For now, it doesn’t matter if you’re a channeler, a mage, or even a goddamn Elysian ritualist, the basics are the same.” He paused. “Well maybe it’s different for them, Nere do you know?”
Nereus shrugged. He was staring at Wyn as well, adjusting his glasses as the glow shifted colors from gold to white, and even to pink at one point, like he was looking for something. “I believe they use bonds, but somehow they transmit more information through the matrix and pull to a greater effect. It’s difficult to study since their shamans live much further in the jungle, and we don’t know enough about the fauna in the area to properly research them. The efficacy of their methods is truly remarkable though, they use…”
Wyn’s ears buzzed. There was something of note, bonds. It was something he needed to know more about, and it was the one piece of information he’d left out of his explanation of his blessing. He’d been plenty thorough in explaining the effects, but the bond itself he’d kept to himself. He wasn’t sure why exactly, but he was hesitant to bring it up. Even when he’d spoken with Phyrus, the thief in Precipice, he’d been cagey about his abilities. Only one person knew the full extent of them, and that was Corrin, perhaps the person he trusted most in the entire world.
But then, even Corrin had never seen her. Yet he knew she could make herself visible if she chose to do so.
The anxiety I feel when I consider talking about it. It’s not mine is it Eia? He asked. It’s yours. Why don’t you want them to know?
She didn’t respond, and he felt nothing coming from the bond. She was being careful not to let any more emotions leak. He trusted her, but she could be so childlike at times. And even by her admission, there were things she didn’t understand about the bond, so was her fear justified or not? It was difficult to tell.
Especially when you won’t talk to me!
She slapped the bond, and he resisted the urge to start shaking it back. She could be as bad as Corrin! Worse even.
And he’d seen the bond. He’d almost forgotten, but just before passing out, he’d seen the bond between him and Eia, a line of spirit fire stretching between the two of them, clear as day. It was gone again though, along with the sensation of the ‘other place’ he’d felt when the mana had invaded his body. He had too many questions about the experience. He was fairly sure the pain had been caused by the mana crashing into his aura, but then what was the mental weight he’d felt, and how was it related to his spirit fire? Tor was correct, there was still so much he didn’t know, how could he make a decision like that now?
But he had two weeks. Two weeks to experiment, two weeks to learn, using everything he’d gathered from the journey, and the opportunity he’d been given. He’d squeeze every drop of information he could out of the two of them. He’d had enough of the endless questions, it was finally time for some answers.
Tor cleared his throat, interrupting the rambling mage, who was seemingly still going. “Yes, well, that’s besides the point for now. The important thing is that mana is the same for channelers and mages, the only difference is how you use it. If he’s to make a decision, Wyn must understand the paths that he can take. Do you not agree, Nereus?”
Nereus sniffed, seeming piqued about having been interrupted. “I suppose that would be wise. You wish to explain aspects then?”
“Do you have the prism?” Tor seemed oddly excited. He glanced back towards the horizon, where the sun was now peeking up and basking the world in its light.
“Why is it that dim minds always seem to latch onto a single demonstration?” Nereus sighed. “Yes I have it.”
“Wait, aspects? Tor already explained those,” Corrin said.
“Not quite,” Tor replied. He cracked his neck to each side absentmindedly. “I explained to you what it meant to be aspected, and the idea that different aspects of mana exist. That is different from understanding them.”
Wyn nodded, it made sense.
“I don’t get it,” Corrin scratched his head.
“Allow me to demonstrate,” Tor held out a hand in front of him, palm upwards. “As I mentioned before, I am an earth channeler, and thus my aura is molded after the… Ah I almost forgot. Nere, your lenses, give them to Wyn.”
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Nereus sighed and took the golden glasses off of his face. He held them out to Wyn.
“Thank you elder,” Wyn bowed slightly as he accepted them. So these were lenses? Corrin had explained the concepts of lenses and looms in Precipice. These would grant him the ability to see mana as Corrin and Tor could? If you discounted the glow, then at first glance the glasses seemed nothing out of the ordinary, they were just like those Elder Irym wore back in Straetum. However, as he inspected them closer Wyn noticed a series of tiny engravings etched onto the glass, and even smaller gemstones set into the rims—magic stones most likely.
“Avoid touching the rims please,” Nereus said dryly. “I’ve set them to a good level for your first time, and if you fuss with them it will mess them up.”
Wyn nodded, “Thank you for the warning.” He held the glasses to his eyes.
And then he saw.
It was like there’d been a curtain between him and the world, and for the first time it was drawn away. He could see the swirling, drifting motes of mana that Corrin had described. He could see the golden light collecting just above Tor’s palm. He couldn’t see the supposed aura in his own body, but he assumed it was a function of the glasses more than anything.
“Now don’t expect to wear those forever,” Tor grunted. “It seems to me you’ve got the grit it takes to develop sight channels for your aura, and if you can do that, they’ll serve you better than a lens will. Trust me, many of the best mages, combat or not, learn the very basics of channeling they can do just that.”
“Why don’t all mages do it then?” Wyn wondered aloud, his eyes gazing around at the world of color.
“They’re lazy.”
“Excuse me,” Nereus interjected. “It’s not a matter of laziness, but rather that boring channels into your soul is a very intensive and painful process. Why should I do so when a lens works just as well for my purposes?”
“Translation: It hurts, so he doesn’t want to do it.” Tor said flatly. “You can surely do better.”
The mage sputtered. But Wyn just nodded. “I’m not afraid of pain.”
“Nor should you be. Good, now Nere, you know this demonstration better than I do.”
“I suppose,” sighed Nereus. “If the two of you look around, you’ll notice that there is plenty of empty space, where it seems no mana is present. However, that couldn’t be further from the truth. Mana exists in those spaces as well, however thinly.”
“So why can’t we see it?” Corrin asked.
“Imagine mana pure mana as something like the light from the sun,” the mage reached into his robes and pulled out a glass prism. He placed the prism on the deck of the ship. The glass caught the light and formed a rainbow on the wood. Wyn watched with interest, he’d never seen the effect so prevalently before. “It is composed of many colors, many aspects that mix to form an imperceptible whole. In the rain, you may notice the world tint blue in your mana sight, and if you are underground, it would color gold. But usually it is almost impossible to tell.”
Corrin rubbed his chin. “Does that affect how much you can channel?”
“It can,” Tor confirmed. “But it’s not easy to explain. I’ll get into it another time. What’s important is that each aspect of mana behaves differently from one another, and thus each channeler is unique. Even two fire channelers won't be the same—one’s aura might be hot enough to burn anything away, mimicking fire’s heat, and another might ignite mana to fuel its own spread, choking their opponents of their ability to channel.” Golden light gathered faster in his palm as he continued. “These differences form the basis of battle between channelers, as well as the paths of their growth.”
There was a flash of gold, and the mana began to twist in on itself. The air thickened, and grains of sand shimmered into existence, glowing faintly as they tumbled together, layer by layer, forming into a giant stone war hammer which fell easily into Tor’s waiting hand.
Wyn pulled the glasses down just enough to see that even without a lens, the hammer was very visible, and he could even still see veins of gold that ran through the handle and into the head.
The knight grinned as his fingers grasped the handle, holding the chunk of stone as though it weighed no more than a feather. “This is the next stage, manifestation. When mana outside the body becomes dense enough, it becomes visible to the naked eye, and with the right technique, takes the form of the thing it is mimicking, or else some interpretation of the channeler’s power. If a channeler is able to manifest their mana in true physical form, then they have reached the next stage of power.”
Corrin reached for the hammer, touching it as if to make sure it was real. “Holy shit… And this is different for each aspect, yeah?”
“Aye, earth is the best for solid constructs, with ice being second. Most other aspects would have a hard time forming something like this.”
“Ice and water aren’t the same?” Wyn asked. That didn’t make much sense, ice was just frozen water after all.
“I’m not going to get into that right now.” Tor waved his hand. “I’ll leave it at this, you’ll rarely find a water channeler that can also manifest ice, or vice versa.”
Corrin pressed on though, uncaring for the details. “So then, a water channeler could manifest water? What about an ash channeler?”
“Don’t drink manifested water,” Tor said. “It’s toxic stuff. And I can’t say I’ve ever met an ash channeler who had reached the manifestation stage. It could be ash itself, but I’d wager it would be something more abstract. Don’t worry about it too much for now though, you’re still a long way out from even basic manifestation… Ah, they’re here. That was fast.”
Tor paused and turned back towards the docks. Standing there was a group of four people, two men and two women. They were clearly warriors of some kind, as each carried a different weapon. An older man with black hair had a large bow strapped to his back and gave off a quiet, calm air. In contrast, the other male in the group was young, and leaning casually on a spear as he glared at the two of them. The women made quite an odd pair as well. The first was probably only a year or two older than Wyn, and she was wearing thick metal armor with no helmet. She carried a huge greatsword over her shoulder. The last of them was a much smaller woman in her late twenties, dressed in robes and holding a small stick topped with a gemstone, a wand.
The young man with the spear spoke first. “We’re here Tor, now can you explain what was so important we had to get up at the crack of dawn? Also, who are these guys?”
“Seriously? You might be the first adventurers I’ve ever met that actually arrive early to a meeting,” Tor grunted. “I haven't finished talking to them yet. Oh well, you can wait while I finish explaining.”
He didn’t seem to like that. “Now hang on we’re not just going to sit here and—”
Tor sighed and threw the hammer. It missed the young man’s head by only a few inches, sailing a hundred feet past the docks and towards one of the outer spires, where it crashed with enough force to send stone spraying in every direction with a loud boom. The spearman froze in his place, his feet stuck to the ground.
“I guess I should introduce them,” Tor said. “Wyn, Corrin, these are The Grass Sentinels. I’ve been told they’re the number one adventuring party in Precipice. As it happens, they have three channelers and a mage in their group. You guys are going to be spending a lot of time together for the next two weeks. Do try to play nice.”