I opened my eyes to a shell shocked Merownis. I patted him on the shoulder and he seemed to return to himself, but I doubted he was using Meditate like I was. He had been traumatised by Naea and dissociated instead. “Try and shake it off.” Poor guy. I knew what he was going through. I made the mistake of peeking in on Naea’s eating habits a single time, and now I did my best not to think about it.
Such a wide maw. So many tentacles.
The sounds would haunt me until my dying day, I was sure, but Naea was on my side and we had a promise of non-aggression so I never mentioned it and never would. Burping, the fairy arrived to lay languid on my head. I did my best not to shiver. “That,” she burped again, “was delightful.”
“Maybe for you,” Merownis shuddered. I could do nothing but shrug. It was part of our deal. The deaths in the dungeon made Naea more powerful, though really that was nothing to do with me. As she couldn’t use that strength against me, or to assist me in any real way, it was mostly just a side effect. Moving over to the vacant hole in the ground, I had a look inside. It was wide enough to walk through without crouching.
“How did we miss this?” I asked, not looking for an answer. “I’m ready when you are.” I hadn’t taken long in my inner world, but even a few minutes brought me to full health with my increasing regeneration and skill levels. Merownis was still recovering, and would be for an hour or so at a guess. I didn’t want to wait, but the fight against the Scorpion Prince would have been a lot harder without Merownis’ damage and distractions. Meeting another one in a confined space…
Not ideal.
I sat down with my back to the hole, my Perception more than enough to catch any approaching noises. Gesturing opposite myself for Merownis to sit, I gave him a measured look. “Want to teach me how to make my mana form in the air?” I asked, swallowing a mouthful of pride. The unguarded surprise on his face was a pleasure to see, and the wide smile as his eyes darted around in thought was charming. Then, a look of doubt.
“Maybe,” He dithered, “but it’s not easy.” A small mote appeared in the air around him with no visible effort and I squinted my eyes.
“I happen to be a quick study. Just give me the basics.”
“That’s kind of the problem,” Merownis responded. “Magic Missile is basic. It’s not actually a Mana Bolt, though. They’re different skills. Magic Missile is so simple I haven’t ever had to think about how I actually do it. In a real sense, I was born with the ability.”
I frowned, finding this information curious. So, it was a problem with my fundamentals, was it? I lounged into the arcane posturing we were doing. “So, can you make a Mana Bolt?” I asked, forming a solid orb from ten mana and tossing it into the air gently. I would recover the amount in about twenty seconds. The cat’s eyes of my companion followed the orb perfectly before shooting it out of the air with an audible pop.
“Let’s try a game?” Merownis asked, a glint of mischievous glee reflecting in his eyes. “The rules are straightforward. You keep a Mana Bolt alive while I try to destroy it.” What followed was an unspoken exercise in aggravation as Merownis used his Magic Missiles to rip apart my Mana Bolts. This wasn’t the training I had expected, but I quickly became serious as the growing rivalry between us became even more solidified.
“How do I win?” I replied, already forming another Mana Bolt. He said nothing in response, merely popping the new bolt with a single missile while a smile widened on his face. I glared a little. “Oh, it’s like that? No point telling me the win condition if I can’t do it?” Merownis just inclined his head for me to create another projectile.
The game was simple, but frustrating. Having what I considered my main offence countered so easily was humbling, and the desire to prove myself grew with each iteration of bolt which the Sundercat destroyed. I wanted to win without relying on Dragonburn or Spirit Well, which were best kept as last resorts for serious battles. Merownis wasn’t using additional skills, after all. I wouldn’t give up, though. I wanted to defeat him with magic alone.
Over the next ten minutes, we battled innocently while I came to a painful realisation. The Sundercat was much better at using mana than I was. I might have better regeneration and more Power but in the face of technique, it was annoyingly futile. Reminding myself that Merownis had been using magic his whole life did nothing to assuage me when I remembered Merownis was technically only as old as the dungeon. It was a slightly unfair comparison but I allowed it to piss me off all the same.
A single turn of our game went as such: I began the round by creating the Mana Bolt. Limiting myself to only the mana I could recover in a minute, thirty three points of mana were at my disposal. Merownis said he would do the same, but I didn’t ask what that made his maximum. It would only hurt my feelings. Choosing a form, I threw the bolt into the air where it would meet opposition. The pelting from Merownis’ Magic Missiles defeated the bolts each time.
Initially, I began by forming the largest, strongest feeling bolt I could, but they were easily pierced and dispersed. Altering the density, I tried to make the Mana Bolts too small to hit but that was a dead end. The missiles moved quickly and with precision, simply making the target smaller wasn’t enough to throw Merownis off. Amazingly, I didn’t detect a whiff of Spirit within his attacks, yet unerringly the smaller Magic Missile would find and destroy my Mana Bolt. Even as I felt the skill level up, and my ability to shape the mana improved, the missiles continued to win out.
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Something needed to change. I moved onto making multiple orbs, first two and soon many more. Of course, there was even less hassle for Merownis to destroy these, but hitting them all at once became more difficult. I was able to add a step to our dance as it was now Merownis on the back foot, trying to demolish the orbs without wasting too much mana to keep up. He was more than capable, though I wasn’t trying to “win” with one of these tiny pellets. Some of them even dissipated on their own.
No, I was analysing the signature of Merownis’ mana.
My own mana was a warm amber colour at a base. When Spirit was added, the colour deepened in various, difficult to perceive ways. The mana was harder to look at, it vanished from a certain angle or other interesting effects. Between Mana Bolts of the same cost, the shape and size was not uniform, some moved through the air faster while others hit harder. Dragonburn added a purple tint to the ability, be it the projectile I threw at Master Thorn to end its life or the haze which came over the world in a Dragonburned Haste.
Why?
Was it just a natural course of mana to be unique? It didn’t seem so. There were no alterations within Merownis’ mana. With an austere feeling, the nearly imperceptible grey energy punctured my own over and over again. Watching with Manasight was useful but not as much as the collision of magic itself. Each time the missiles scored a hit on one of my orbs, there was an instant where our connection was laid bare. The fraction of a moment was not enough time to do anything on its own, but when multiplied by a few dozen? It was enough.
The speed, accuracy, even the propulsion of the Magic Missiles were things I believed could only be achieved through Spirit. Yet, here Merownis was using pure mana to perform what I could only do with Spirit Well. I searched hard for the trick, but was ultimately unable to create a Magic Missile of my own. Though, I didn’t walk away disappointed. My answer was to copy him.
The rigidity of each attack was informed not by Spirit, but by a control of mana I had not achieved. Merownis did something to the air itself, infusing an area outside of his body with mana directly. I couldn’t figure out the trick to that, but I could place my mana in the air, once I realised it was possible. It took a few tries, but I had my own ability specifically designed to help me catch up with a genius like Merownis. I felt Mana Savant working hard. As long as I had mana to spend on an issue, the System would…
Ding!
Even as the System’s knowledge wrote itself into my mana channels, I smirked. “Oh, so that’s how that works.” I hadn’t learned the skill I had been aiming for, but this was likely just as useful. With a wave of my hand, a sheet of mana formed in the air and stayed there. I tossed a ball of mana up behind it. A satisfying vwoom sound reverberated around us as the Magic Missile which collided with the veil was repelled. Shocked, the Sundercat launched a quick salvo at the hovering energy. Almost like a laser sword being swung around in a sci-fi movie, the noise was incredibly pleasant and a little nostalgic. “That doesn’t count as winning,” Merownis grumbled. “You were supposed to keep a Mana Bolt alive.”
I just shrugged. He wasn’t wrong but…
It was my turn for the smile to widen as I threw up a few more floating walls of mana and created a Mana Bolt in my palm. “If you can get through, by all means. I’ll even make you Party Leader if I can.” I finished receiving the information from the System and took a glance at the new skill. My mood had flipped completely. Alongside a level and a half in Mana Bolt, I considered it a very productive session.
Skill Unlocked! - Mana Shield (Common)
Rudimentary usage of mana can create an impermeable barrier. The strength of said barricade can vary greatly depending on a myriad of factors.
For a few seconds, the forest lit up as Merownis clearly gave up on the limitations and absolutely swarmed the Mana Shields with attacks. I had a bolt worth two mana in my hand, and three shields worth ten in front. From the looks of it, Merownis emptied his remaining mana pool to try and bust through. Much like my bolts were countered by his missiles, the missiles in turn were useless against the shields. Merownis hissed in disdain as he ceased firing Magic Missiles.
This new ability wasn’t draining like Haste, instead working like a Mana Bolt. I used a certain amount of mana to create a panel and then it floated wherever I left it. We practised a bit more, so I could understand the properties. Generally, a torso sized shield was as large as I could make the shields while still keeping them durable enough to stop a decent Magic Missile. That only cost me a single point of mana, however. The ten I started with was overkill. Using full Command of my mana at one time, shoving over thirty mana into the barrier, it was impenetrable by even Severance’s sharp blade. However, it wobbled against my control and burst on its own quickly.
It levelled to two from the practice, and Mana Bolt rose to four at around the same time. Both changes, and the initial appearance of my newest skill were mapped in my ongoing mental library of understanding. The skill runes for Mana Shield were simple, small and tightly wound into the little finger on my left hand. Mana Bolt was written onto my palm. I began to get a sense for which parts of the skill allowed the mana to work as it did, but my comprehension was very rudimentary all the same.
I gave the tigerman a side-eye. “You got a little dramatic there. Do you need some more time to recover your mana before we go down?” I asked the quietly panting Merownis. He nodded sheepishly and I rolled my eyes, practising mana control on my own for the next fifteen minutes before we ventured into the dark tunnels below.