"Reactive Aura..." I muttered to myself as I stood in one of my favorite hidden spots in the Waresroom, "No, maybe Aura Forcefield, or Reactive Aurashield?"

I was finally ready to spend the CP for the next ability in my electricity-based alternate-ability powerset, but prior to that I wanted to rename my existing defensive measure to something more appropriate; and since it was, by its very nature, a reactive ability that would automatically adjust itself within my aura to protect me from incoming attacks, I figured the relevant terms should be part of the name somehow.

[Weak Forcefield] -> [Reactive Aurashield]

Changing the power's name in my System was simple enough, and (even though the names were only visible to me) it felt good once the appellation was a bit more accurate. I also decided to remove the 'Weak' designation from my lightning bolt, since its 'stopping power' was more a function of how much CP I invested in it than the ability itself. If anything, I might later on consider altering the name to better reflect the fact that it was (as things currently stood) not a terribly long-range attack, since the ion trail that allowed the bolt to hit a specific target would degrade quicker the further away from the source (which was, in this case, my outstretched hand) it stretched.

Now onto the main event! I spent a few minutes trying to visualize myself generating a carefully designed personal magnetic field, which would then ionize the air around me and then lock it into place in a complex layered latticework a few finger-widths from my skin. It was an active ability that I would have to spend a small amount of effort maintaining while it was in place, but it should work by resisting anything that tried to pass through the barrier over a certain speed - or, more accurately, above a certain kinetic energy threshold.

The conversation I had heard from the soldiers on top of North Stone Fort a while back came to mind as I tried to focus on my task. Was that what passed for 'cultivation' here? It was interesting that a mix of both understanding and belief played a role in how their powers operated... if I had understood what they were talking about correctly. The words of the older soldier repeated in my thoughts; 'I only know what I know, and I know fire bloody well rises!'.

Perhaps he had been referring to air rising when it was heated (due to thermal expansion reducing its density, and a bunch of other sciency terms not worth mentioning in greater detail)... The point of the exercise might actually have been to alter their body's buoyancy in comparison to the atmosphere, which could make them 'float' in the air the same way normal people could float in water, but in a somewhat roundabout manner. I was pretty familiar with the principles of both Fluid and Thermo Dynamics, so it was easy enough for me to visualize the relatively complex interactions behind even something as simple as 'hot air rising,' but I imagine it might be quite different for a person from my new planet who, of course, wouldn't have been given the opportunity to attend a similarly rigorous education.

It was also interesting that insight into how things worked seemed to be as crucial for the soldiers as it was for me - and they didn't even have access to my System! Yet what about the rest of what he had told the younger soldier? On the surface, it had struck me as a bunch of religious-sounding mumbo jumbo, but then again... a lot of what I was doing also couldn't be explained by any scientific theories I had ever come across. The 'mysticism' aspect of their cultivation methods was definitely worth looking into when I had the chance.

Abruptly I felt a shift, and the same pathways (and power source) I used to generate my lightning bolts worked to generate a current flow, in and around my body, which in turn generated a magnetic field that began to ionize the air around me. Sensing that the time was right, I pulled up my System and applied the CP that would reshape reality to fit my design. Mysticism indeed.

[Ion Shield] successfully acquired!

[Ion Shield] is now assigned to the Alternate Ability group {Electricity Control}.

{Electricity Control} now contains:

[Lightning Bolt]

[Ion Shield]

I felt a minor strain throughout my body and my breathing became slightly labored as the air around me shifted and hardened into a protective forcefield of charged air. The initial effort required to raise the ionic aegis was undoubtedly at least a dozen times higher than shooting a single [Lightning Bolt], but it was still no worse than doing a few pushups and some light exercise. It would get easier with practice, I was sure, but even now I would be able to raise and lower the shield throughout the day without too much trouble.

The only downside was that I couldn't access [Lightning Bolt] when the [Ion Shield] was at full power, since the electricity that would go into a bolt was busy generating the magnetic field holding the forcefield together - and that was where my clever design came in. I focused on the energy flowing through my body, siphoning power from the [Ion Shield] as I began shooting lightning between my hands, testing my skill at transferring power from one ability to the other.

I was able to save nearly eighty percent of the CP expenditure by combining [Ion Shield] with [Lightning Bolt], which meant the resulting forcefield was five times stronger than it would have been otherwise! Of course, the energy savings only lasted as long as I invested an equivalent amount of CP in both abilities, since the power source for [Lightning Bolt] would be quickly overwhelmed by the needs of [Ion Shield] if I allowed it to lag behind. Nevertheless, even at half power my [Ion Shield] was more than twice as strong as it would have been as a stand-alone superpower, since my limiting resource was - as seemed to often be the case - energy. (In this case, the limited 'energy' in question was the CP cost.)

Not being forced to lock in my Alternate Abilities into an 'all-or-nothing' state had been a large part of the difficulty I had spent the last few months overcoming... now I just needed practice.

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Months flew quickly by. All the workers at the forge were accustomed to my presence and understood that I could be trusted to mind my own safety - in fact, I had already suggested a few improvements which had helped operations at the Smithy run even smoother! The best was implementing optional 'crafting goggles', as I called them, which were functionally just safety glasses that I tried to hype as a cool innovation that helped with detail work in a high-spark environment. (That they also helped prevent the occasional bout of debilitating eye damage was just a happy coincidence. My people's eyes could take a startling amount of damage, but being out of commission for days or weeks while one's sight returned was an unpleasant experience even when you healed as quickly as we do.)

"I can not feel the heat on my gaze. This is against tradition, and I don't like it, Heller, son of Isa."

"Alright... it was just a suggestion. Don't you see how it helps the other-"

"No, son of Isa. I will hear no more of this, return to your... work... in the Waresroom."

The lumpy red-skinned Blacksmith was just as stubborn as her bull-horns suggested, and it was clear she didn't like my idea, as usual. In fact, I got a strong sense that she didn't like me being there at all, but she never said or did anything about it so I generally just let her be.

The interaction reminded me of a lesson I had learned working as an Engineer back on Earth - professionals tended to resist any change, no matter how insignificant, unless it was perceived as making the job easier and faster for them personally. Safety was one of the worst offenders since 'safe' procedures and equipment often caused things to slow down or take more steps to accomplish, and therefore was resisted all the more fiercely. This was yet another example of the many similarities between humans from my previous life, and whatever my new race was called.

I still wasn't allowed to do any of the hot work at one of the forges, but that was as much a function of tradition as it was my size; I was nearly six years old, and very tall for my age, yet I was still years away from reaching the height required to realistically start my official Apprenticeship as a Blacksmith even if my age was overlooked.

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I heard muted voices coming from the kitchen, so I quickly hid the chunks of iron I had scattered around the floor back under my bed. It was mid-day, leading me to assume it was another visit from Zephyr and her mother, and I cleaned up with a smile, not minding the disturbance at all – in fact, I was looking forward to the diversion. I was working on utilizing some of the more direct electromagnetic applications of {Electricity Control} to create and manipulate magnetic fields, and I could use a break.

I was at home because something had changed at the Smithy a few weeks ago (I had no idea what happened, except that it involved someone important who dealt with administrative stuff), and my parents agreed that it would be best if I waited a few months until I turned seven and could legally be registered as an Assistant before returning. I wasn't pleased, but I understood that tradition was important - and luckily magnetic fields were invisible, so it was easy enough to practice with them at home.

I waited for Mother to call me into the kitchen until I heard a disturbance coming from the front of the house. All I could make out was the sound of my mother yelling louder than I had heard in a long time, so I dashed into the small hallway and out towards the kitchen. Then I heard a scream followed by the clatter of metal striking stone.

“And then I’ll feed them back to you, piece by piece!” I heard Mother yell as I rounded the bend and entered the kitchen. When I got into the room I saw her holding a kitchen knife, and a man… no, a guard… wearing half-plate armor. The guard was backing towards the door, holding one of his hands to his chest as blood dripped down his arm. His sword was lying on the floor.

“Isa!” the guard exclaimed in a loud panicked voice. "We won’t hurt the boy,” he promised, looking over at me, but not making eye contact. Wait, was he lying?! Someone actually wanted to hurt me? “We just have to take him in to answer some questions!” he continued, nearly at the door by then.

Mother snarled at him, crouching down into a fighting pose and circling to interpose herself between the guard and me. I had absolutely no idea what to do, my mouth hanging open at the scene unfolding in the kitchen.

Mother replied, her voice coming out as a raspy whisper, in a tone I had never heard from her before, “And I said we will come together after my husband Toly returns from the Smithy. I have no desire to scrub even more blood off of my floor, so I suggest you leave now before you lose that arm.”

She began advancing on the guard as she spoke, step by careful step, her knife held loosely in front of her. The guard’s face turned even paler as he turned around and bolted out the door.

Mother watched him leave and then quickly turned around, “Heller my sweet, we have to go to the Smithy now.” She gave me a smile that was clearly forced as she absently wiped the guard's blood off her knife and placed it on the counter. “We haven’t much time, so we must be swift.”

Mother quickly grabbed her favorite weapons, wrapped up some food, and ushered me out of the house. We moved swiftly, switching streets several times as we went. I was nervous and wanted desperately to know what was happening, but Mother kept glancing behind us and was clearly too preoccupied to answer me, and I was forced into a running jog to keep up with her. My few attempts were met with, “Soon, Heller. First, we must find your father.”