After subjecting me to another bout of their twisted entertainment, they seemed to grow bored, or at least Silas did. "No fun," he grumbled. What a warped individual.

Before long, my mess of a body was back in the cell. I picked up some talk between guards and found mine was an isolation cell. But they made a mistake. They let slip that on both sides of my cell, there were two other isolation cells. They only had three and were huffing about me taking the last one. What happens if they get another high-value target? From further discussion, it turns out a lot of the attention paid to me was due to the line of mages I came from.

The Conmor’s were a distinguished mage family, one of the six Reverent bloodlines, with the ability to summon a black drake in their bloodline. This led them to becoming one of the most respected families within Reverent. Well, until me, that is. It was beneath a mage family to care for a cursed like me. I didn’t know precisely what a cursed was. That was taken from my memory as well. Either way, they couldn’t rid me, even after exile, so they decided to confine me to the frontline city of Ulis instead, where I was supposed to live at the bottom of society and die a natural death.

"Here, aura scum," a voice sneered, breaking the peace. "No food for you, but some dirty water will do. Approach the bars slowly, and I'll lift the hood just enough for you to drink. Don't dare to draw in aura, or I'll snatch the water away. Now, come forward."

I had visited the Naien forest multiple times, typically as a porter, just like before. It had never been a problem, but my venturing into depths they couldn't fully monitor became an issue.

What a crazy family I came from. There wasn’t much I could do about them, not now. And to have a grand mage promise to keep an eye on me at times? Was it worth it? Favors like that weren’t easy to gain, after all. Why not just let me live in peace? Were they why I could never achieve a proper job in the city?

Just what else was being kept from me?

Forcing aside these whirlwind thoughts and recalling what I’d deal with again tomorrow, my heart calmed.

"Here, aura scum," a voice sneered, breaking the peace. "no food for you, but some dirty water will do. Approach the bars slowly, and I'll lift the hood just enough for you to drink. Don't dare to draw in aura, or I'll snatch the water away. Now, come forward."

Driven by my intense thirst and with a touch of embarrassment, I moved swiftly towards the bars. The guard lifted my hood just enough to expose my mouth and allowed me to drink. My ears remained under the cover of the hood.

To my parched throat, the water tasted heavenly, even with dirt in it.

"Look at him, guzzling it down," one guard laughed. "Guess insects do enjoy the dirt."

Say what you want; I was going to live. The upper ranks of the citadel wouldn’t just let me die out here. Mundara would teach me how to reach a level further from where I was now. Who knew what was possible if I did not quit?

When the bucket emptied, I stood still, unsure what to do. The guard kept the iron shackles on me next to the sealing rope. Or absorption rope was better, seeing as any aura that goes into my arms disappears. The thing had a limit, according to Mundara; with my current “gate,” as she said, I’d have no chance of reaching that limit.

The guard yanked the hood back down and disregarded me, the iron bars automatically closing behind him. I was okay with that. I was overdue for my next lesson with Mundara anyway. Selecting a corner of the cell where the floor was slightly less damp, I settled into a cross-legged position. Entering my mindscape was now far more effortless.

"You did well. You had me worried for a moment, Electi," Mundara's voice echoed. "This experience has tempered your willpower. Do not allow them to break you. You need to become an unyielding sword for me and yourself. Rather than dwell on the situation, let's proceed with our lesson. Let me align with you."

Once again, Mundara placed her hands on my back. The sensation of cleansing returned. The mental damage from torture was soothed. As for the physical damage, well, it's better not to focus on that. My willpower was concentrated on the small pool of aura in the pit of my stomach. Taking just a single drop was noticeably more straightforward than before. Grasping my willpower and using it to manipulate aura wasn’t as daunting anymore.

But that was only the first step. The next challenge was to move the aura throughout my torso slowly. As I was about to begin, Mundara decided to ramp up the difficulty.

"Let's expand the scope. We won't include your arms or neck, but let's incorporate your legs and feet. You'll have to learn to use aura effectively with them. Rotate that single drop through your torso and both legs. Begin."

The headache that just started disappearing after the water the guard gave me returned with a vengeance. It was an entirely new experience to get the aura to move slowly around my legs. There was more space in the torso, and my legs were quite slim, albeit toned. However, making excuses wouldn't help me. Pressing on, my concentration was immediately taxed.

Some progress was being made, but only a little. Controlling the speed in the torso wasn't too harsh, but it was still a challenge. But adding new routes and narrower spaces in the legs took the difficulty up a notch. The headache made everything exponentially harder.

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Mundara removed her hands from my back. "Electi, you need to rest. Your mind has reached its limit. Without some concentrated rest, this will remain your threshold. Do not worry; I'll wake you near the night's end. We must make at least some more progress regardless of your limits.”

Based on last time, for whatever reason, they don’t torture during the night. Or at least, they didn’t with me. As for others, I couldn’t hear, smell, or see much within this cell. Hell, despite what I said about the water, tasting was difficult, too. That's what a mutilated tongue does to you.

Mundara pushed me out of the mindscape again. Exhaustion washed over me like a tidal wave. Sleep seemed impossible in my grim surroundings, but when you're this beat, your body doesn't care. So, there I was, sprawled against a cold stone wall, sinking into slumber.

In the dream, I was in a black sea, surrounded by indistinct faces. Trying to concentrate on any one of them led to a blurred face. The pulses of mana coming out before me were intense. The moon was at its zenith in the night sky. Monsters were all around me, trying to pull me into the water. Yet something was preventing them. Most of them, anyway, in the dream, I would cut the occasional tentacle or arm coming my way. As would the others around me.

Everyone was yelling something, their eyes fixed on me. A blue vortex sprang into the sky, and just as a figure appeared to emerge from it...

Wake up.

Mundara's voice pulled me from slumber, just as she'd promised. No full night's rest for me. I had to find out how much time we had before dawn. I needed a plan, and soon. Shaking off sleep, I stirred.

The thirst was back, and hunger gnawed at my belly. Pain throbbed throughout my abused body. But all of that would have to wait. I sank into a comfortable sitting position and let myself slip back into the mindscape. I was about to speak to Mundara, but she beat me to it.

"Yes, I cut your stay in dreamland short. Four hours of sleep will have to do, for now, my Electi." I held back any complaints. Mundara had my best interests at heart; after all, even those few short hours had refreshed my brain.

We resumed our usual training positions with Mundara behind me. Her cleansing feeling when her hands were overlaid on my back was welcomed as always. The grogginess of waking up was entirely gone as well.

The process of enhancing my aura control started again. Pulling a single drop, or rather, a hundred strands of aura from the remaining pool, I set it into a painfully slow rotation within my torso. Then, I guided it down my legs and completed the cycle with newfound ease. The sleep for a few hours had something click inside me. Controlling these strands was far easier than before.

“Good then, Electi, but we must press on. Time is not on our side. Next, put the drop back and take ten strands or less. You may not be able to do so at first; continue to try until you succeed.”

My attention came back to the pool. My first attempt resulted in a smaller drop. Turning my head over to Mundara, my soundscape gave me feedback of her simply shaking her head at me. Too many strands, then. Time to try again.

A few more attempts later, and the drop was even smaller. Feeling better with my chances this time, my head once again tried to turn back to Mundara.

"You need more precision than that, Falond," she admonished. "Repeat the exercise. Focus more on how I'm subtly directing your will."

Pausing to feel out what Mundara was doing, an insight came to me. She was refining my will, making it more precise, splitting it internally into finer strands. Could having several willpower strands make it easier to manage aura strands? Of course, it would.

Then, the next goal was clear. To further refine my ability to control and use aura fully, strand by strand. The next step out of this torturous hellhole was to get my will to manage aura as precisely as possible. Rather than use the repetition method on aura, I was going to use it on my will.

Let’s start with one hundred attempts, then. For the rest of the night, I began the arduous task of unraveling my will, strand by strand, like untangling a delicate tapestry. The willpower responded, but it required utmost patience and control. Alongside literally hundreds of attempts. My brain felt like it tingled as I delicately plucked at the strands, drawing them out one by one. Subconsciously, the headaches were being ignored, although they were still there.

With each strand of willpower I separated, a unique vibration was felt, its distinct presence in the tapestry of my body. I focused on understanding its qualities, its behavior, and its potential. Through this intimate connection, my mastery over willpower was refined. I was bending it to my commands with finesse several times.

Time seemed to slip away as I delved deeper into this intense training. Learning to manipulate the strands individually, weaving them back together, or separating them further, each action requiring the utmost precision. With my progress, the strands responded more readily to my desire, dancing and twisting as if guided by an invisible thread.

This was a process of trial and error, of setbacks and breakthroughs. My concentration never wavered as I repeated the meticulous task, refining my technique with every attempt. Slowly, strand by strand, I was unlocking a new level of control over my willpower, empowering myself. Once my will was where I needed it to be, my mastery over aura would follow suit. A new arsenal of abilities would be attainable, and the techniques Mundara promised to teach would be possible.

Everything I needed was already here; all that was left was time and effort to gain them.

Through this intricate training, I discovered the profound connection between my inner self and the ethereal energy surrounding me. I became closely attuned to the nuances of my willpower, understanding its ebbs and flows, its dormant potential waiting to be harnessed.

With time, practice, and determination, I would master the art of controlling my willpower strand by strand. Once I achieved this, I knew the same would apply to my aura. And who knows, maybe even for my path of nature.

Speaking on that, to not alert Silas tomorrow or any other prying eyes, the path of nature from my brand was only focused on healing the injuries they left internally. The deepest part of my muscles, the organ damage, the broken veins. All of these were getting healed, even as I practiced with my willpower.

“Falond, the night is nearly over once again. You’ve honed your will at an unbelievable speed. Attempt to use it on your aura again. Imagine them as if they were a strand of hair, thin but tensile and strong.” Mundara advised.

Taking her words to heart, I did just that. The result was astonishing. I managed to separate a minimal amount from the aura pool, so small that it couldn't even be described as a drop.

This must be a strand of aura. I’ve done it. This situation was desperate, but I must admit, it sure did bring out my potential. A cynical part of me even wondered if this was some messed up training regimen of the auramancer fanatics, but then I shook my head.

Ironically, the people I call fanatics may be my only hope out of here. My time on this side of the portal had been one hell of a ride.

And I was ready for it to end.