Four:

One of the many unpleasant things about chronic conditions are their complete disregard for reasonable timing. This was why instead of eagerly observing the most powerful workings of mana Leo had ever had the opportunity to witness, instead of basking in the overwhelming power permeating through the ignition room, Leo was unsuccessfully trying to relax his jaw and ignore the creeping pain in his arm.

The pain and discomfort were nothing new, but the timing. Something had changed. His symptoms were escalating quickly. Much too quickly, and Leo didn’t know why. So, he did what he always did, broke down the problem into manageable chunks.

Instead of heading for a chair or a into the milling mass of socializing youth, Leo found a nice, unoccupied corner to sit and be unobtrusive in. Then he dug out his notebook and flipped to a well used page, already half filled with small hand drawn tables and lists. He’d divided the page into small 1cm by 1cm squares into a pattern he’d discovered called ‘grid-paper’. Leo really liked grid paper, even if it did take a long time to create. While blank pages allowed for freedom, they were also structureless, and while lined paper provided of direction, he found its form too rigid for Leo. But grid paper? It was like an invitation for endless possibility within a framework. Structured chaos. There was a not small part of Leo that loved that.

On a previously blank section of the grid he wrote out a list of things that were significant enough in the last hour to that could have affected his condition. Stress certainly was a significant factor, but it wasn’t like this was the first time he’d been in a stressful situation, nor was this his first experience with anxiety, or elation. In fact, the only really unique sensation he was having was his elation at being in a room full of power. Would intense positive emotions cause a flare up, or an acceleration in his symptoms? He didn’t have enough data, but something about it felt wrong. Emotions were felt through chemicals, and he’d generated enough dopamine, serotonin and endorphins through stress, exercise, and education to mostly rule that out.

So, if the problem wasn’t something inside him that had changed, what was outside him that could have triggered the truly horrific pain in his arm. At this point he was starting to feel like someone had injected his veins with tiny shards of glass and the hollows of his bones with boiling lead. He tried to take deep breaths and think. Maybe if he could solve this, he could slow down the process long enough to make it to his turn.

“Think, Leo,” he muttered. What changed. The answer practically hit him in the chest. Lost in his thoughts he’d stopped paying attention to the ignition chambers, the technicians, and the general goings on around him. Not until the first baptisms began and the already mana-dense room was flooded with a sudden, overwhelming wave of unaspected, unrefined mana. While the flood of energy felt fantastic, it was also overwhelmingly and suffocating. It was like something within him was trying to claim the mana even though his body was obviously not handling the mana-dense environment well.

Leo began to panic as the throbbing in his arm worsened, spreading with alarming speed. It had never been this bad, this fast before. Well, that wasn’t true; it had just never been like this without the presence of a healer before. A healer who used mana. A healer who used spells, arts, and workings all fueled by mana. So much made sense now. How could he have known that the poison was the cure if the healers themselves never realized that they did as much damage diagnosing and healing him as whatever was causing his pain in the first place? He was suddenly very grateful that his past self had decided to study medicine – one of the many ‘mundane’ disciplines that none of the powers that be thought to regulate.

You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

Then the pressure in the room died down, the mana levels dropped, and Leo was finally able to take a full breath after seconds that felt like hours. He watched as the first ten young people exited the opaque glass chambers. All downcast, all exhausted, all ushered efficiently through the door and into the recovery room.

From his spot in the corner, he sat alone with his notebook out, determined to watch carefully this time as the next 10 people were called, and diligently documenting the process - or as much of it as he could perceive.

Once more, the room flooded. Once more, his body rebelled. Once more he clenched his teeth, found his center, and breathed through the pain. This time though, he took notes.

Leo knew that only between three to five percent of the population of Earth had the potential to have their core ignited. There was some fluctuation from that number with other humanoids and other planets, but not much. Then there were things like proximity to leylines, access to mana infused food and pre-cultivation resources made a difference as well. Looking around at the roughly 400 other young people who were also not wealthy or well connected enough to get an early ignition, well likely no more than ten of them would leave this room as cultivators. But maybe if he could actually see an ignition in action, feel it like he felt the power around him. Maybe he could gain some insight into the process and increase his odds. Why leave something up to luck when you could prepare. Besides, Leo never trusted anyone who relied on something as fickle and biased as luck.

Then another round of youths stepped up to the chambers, and mana flooded the room once more. The agony this time was nearly unbearable. He felt as the bones in his arm began to weaken and fracture, felt some of his smaller veins bulge and rupture causing a mottled bruising to appear on the light brown skin of his arm. Gingerly he slipped on his sweater and once more steadied his breathing. Deep breath into the belly for four, hold for four, release for four, hold for four, and repeat.

His mind drifted as he breathed, and he remembered an old religion still practised by many people on Earth, and, as he’d come to discover, by many beyond the stars. The idea that there was some grand Creator more powerful than the immortals the gods, and the Veil itself. Well, he didn’t know if he believed in a Creator with a grand design, but he did believe there was a power beyond the Immortals, a power beyond the petty deities created through endless cultivation and refinement. He believed there was something, or someone, out there. And that was who he prayed to in his darkest moments—when the pain became so overwhelming it was hard to even think. Because unlike the petty immortals who would wipe out worlds to soothe their egos or the deities whose divinity relied on their dao, a being like this ‘Creator’ simply wouldn’t care. Was this pain truly all-consuming if it was so far beneath such a being’s notice. Sometimes perspective helped. Sometimes it was just a cruel reminder that he was alone. Either way, it got his mind off the pain and helped him refocus onto more important things.

He watched as round after round of people went through the chambers and exited them, disappointed. His pain spiked, ebbed, and creeped up his arm with each successive group. He’d continued taking notes, trying to prepare himself for what ignition would mean and hoping that someone, anyone would ignite their core already so that he could witness it happening first-hand. But as the next group went in, the throbbing moved from his shoulder to his neck, increasing the pressure in his jaw, his eyes, and his head. He felt his vision begin to waver and knew he’d run out of time.