Chapter Six

My face stiffens at her blunt words, those muscles are getting quite the workout today. We’re locked in an awkward staring contest while I’m trying to find a convincing reason to deny her allegations. Not that she’s accusing me of anything in particular but, especially with the story I was told, I’m not enthusiastic for people to know of my origins. And so our contest continues in silence, it ends when I try to smile and she sighs. Shaking her head she continues packing the meat away.

“It took a while for the pieces to click, your prodigious magic combined with your lack of common sense was a hint. Your condition was another, but last night I finally figured it out. When I carried you to bed after you were swaying on your feet, exhausted as you were, you were still containing your mana,” she states as if this explained anything. Of course, I would maintain that plug, being tired doesn’t mean I want to die and there only is much mana I can spare.

“Your face tells me that you don’t grasp the significance of that,” she sighs heavily and stops packing again, “that isn’t something we humans can do you know?”

Her words don’t clear up a thing and I just get more and more confused. Again, she sighs.

“Focus on my palm, sense my mana,” she orders, curiously I comply. She’s swirling some mana around above her skin, I can only assume she’s warming up for a spell. Then she stops.

“That’s about as much mana control as I can manage, and that’s when I truly focus.”

My brain freezes at that statement. Does she have some kind of injury? Is her mana flow impeded?

“No, you uselessly talented Angel, that’s the upper limit of what humans can achieve.”

My eyes blink but no thoughts occur in my brain. That’s… it? Just a rudimentary circular motion just barely outside her body? And that’s the upper limit? For the fourth time, she sighs.

“Don’t think that it’s just me that’s weak. I graduated from the Academy, top of my class at that. Medical spells require finer control than the magic of other branches so mana control was, in fact, a focus for me.”

This is ridiculous. I could do that when I was four, I could do ten times that when I was eight. I was throwing snowballs at classmates with nothing but raw mana control when I was twelve. They’d be chucking them right back too.

“So now you can see why I was skeptical of your claim. While controlling mana inside your own body is much easier, you are continuously keeping your mana back even while it tries to rush out of you... The control something like that requires is far beyond my comprehension,” the doctor says with yet another sigh.

“But… but the training tool makes rough circles? Surely people can replicate that feat?”

“Rough circles he says… Listen boy, that tool is more precise than the vast, vast majority of mages. Artifacts are always better at precision, they’re made for it. The graduation test is to use that training tool for five minutes, and then maintain the circle for thirty more after you take off the necklace. After four years of study, it still fails twenty percent of students every year. They’re forced to either redo the year or pick a less precision intensive study. I was heralded as a genius when I maintained it for almost fifty minutes.”

This is making me feel dumb, these people are quite literally producing mana on their own, and yet they can’t make a circle with it? I’ll have to admit my chest is swelling with pride however, being told you’re exceptional does that to most people. The idea that I’m that far ahead of the natives is like a drug, my ego is growing by the second.

“What would be a less intensive study then?” I ask, eager to hear more flattering information.

“Geomancy is a popular one. Hydromancy is as well,” the doctor reveals. Still, it’s not what I expected and I’m even doubting if I understood her correctly...

“Geomancers control earth while hydromancers control water, how does that not require precise mana control,” I question the old lady.

“Because no one controls the elements manually,” she clarifies, “they cast incantations that do the bulk of the precision work. They still need to specify what they want for the spell to function correctly but it’s the difference between saying ‘one meter’ and drawing precisely a single meter.”

Thoughtfully I nod, fully intent on milking this for all it is worth.

“But of course, both hydromancy and geomancy take significantly more mana. Aeromancy takes much less. Pyromancy is the easiest and is mandatory. If you can’t light a fire you cannot graduate in any course, aside from non-magical studies. A qualified geomancer can create enough stone to build a house each month.”

I nearly choke on my saliva. Did she just say ‘create’?

“I’m sorry, I must have misheard you, you mean geomancers can move enough stone to make a house right?”

She looks at me with a blank expression.

“No, they make the stones themselves. Graduated hydromancers can also fill a bathtub every six hours or so,” she adds.

My mind is spinning at the idea, they create matter? Actual matter? They can make physical matter? That violates so much of the physics I know…

The doctor’s face grows a vulpine grin.

“Can our resident Angel not surpass that? Hm?” she playfully teases.

“Surpass that? I can’t even make a single gram of earth… nor water for that matter,” I mutter. Although I can draw the moisture out of the air if need be. Not that there’s a usable amount of liquid around in most places.

Her grin widens further at my admission.

“I guess Angels aren’t all that either then,” she states. And although I know she’s just trying to get a rise out of me, it annoys me all the same. My eyes flicker to the meat that she was packing. A stable supply for a few days.

The room is filled with water at my command, and the doctor’s eyes widen in shock. Desperately she tries to breathe but only water enters her mouth. Then I let the illusion drop and we’re back in a perfectly dry room, not a hint of the previous nautical moment remains. She glares at my juvenile prank.

“Very funny,” she tells me, deadpan.

“I thought it was,” I admit, a smug grin dancing on my face.

Wordlessly she places the last of the meat in the backpack and then casually tosses it to me, I struggle to catch it. The weight surprises me and I almost lose my balance. Some stumbling later I find our positions have reversed, my face now wearing a glare, and hers featuring a grin. But before I escalate our little conflict she speaks up.

“The merchant will arrive in a few hours, take that letter and collect whatever belongings you have. He’ll leave in the morning, and so will you. I doubt he’ll mind someone tagging along in his carriage and it’ll be far more pleasant than walking for you. Should also make the journey’s length more manageable, unless you want to be walking for a couple of months.”

I shake my head at the thought, my stroll through the woods of yesterday fresh in my mind.

The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

“You’re lucky that you’re on the right side of the continent, the capital is only two weeks by carriage. There should be more students joining along the way, perhaps you can make a friend.”

It sounds almost condescending, the way she said it. As if I can’t make friends, I’m perfectly sociable! The memories of my lonely stay at university spring to mind, but that’s different. New world, new me, or so the saying presumably goes. The doctor starts walking to the door, leaving me with my backpack and a letter I carefully put away in an inner pocket of Viktor’s needlessly fancy clothes.

Even as I wonder about the trip, we get interrupted by the rightful owner of the outfit I’m wearing. Viktor walks in just as the old lady walks out, they nearly bump into each other but the doctor’s fast reaction speed saves them. She is some ninja I swear.

“Ah, ma’am,” Viktor says, “the trader is here and he’s asking to see you.”

“What does the old coot want now,” she grumbles but moves to follow Viktor. I also accompany them, meeting the trader is important since I’ll be traveling with him for the following weeks.

Viktor guides us to the village center where the merchant has set up shop. Right between the benches, I told my story yesterday. He looks much more dignified than I expected him to be, I knew merchants could be rich but I didn’t expect anyone that traveled all the way out here would be all that wealthy. But judging from the red satin coat hanging over his shoulder and the shiny accessories decorating his brightly colored tunic, this man does not lack for coin.

His finely combed gray beard combined with the impeccably styled hair, much the same color as what grows on his chin, gives off the appearance of a man with a goal. Even from a distance, I can feel the touch of determination that is mixed in everything he does. He knows how to present an image of himself, that’s for sure. There’s already a crowd forming around him but luckily for us, he spots us first. While we get closer he redirects his customers to the attendants unpacking the cart.

“Madam Barrow, you are a sight for sore eyes! And Viktor! I know we already spoke but it really is nice to see you’re still hanging around the old doctor, she needs the company,” the doctor in question is already grumbling under her breath. Clearly none too pleased with the implication of his words.

“And who’s this young man? I haven’t seen him around before. I wouldn’t forget such brilliant blond hair,” he says while looking straight at me. Flattery comes naturally to him it seems. I extend my hand and he grips it tight.

“I’m Samual Herit, pleased to meet you as well,” I say as we shake hands.

“What a polite one, you wouldn’t happen to need me for something hm?” he says teasingly. I stiffen a little since I am going to ask about him taking me to the capital. His grin only widens.

“I was right, was I? The polite ones always need something. I don’t mind it all, state your request!” But then the old lady cuts in.

“Don’t harass the boy James, I’ll be the customer, he’s just the goods.” Feeling vaguely offended I turn my head to complain, but something about the seriousness on the doctor’s face stops me from opening my mouth.

“Well my dear Julia, you know the rules as well as anyone, what’s the destination and what will you be paying for my services. Is he a student?” My eyes narrow at the exchange.

“He will be, but he won’t be taking that predatory package you call a deal. As for the price, first, tell me why you called for me,” she says. The merchant named James’s face turns grave.

“It’s one of my workers, they’re suffering from persistent mana depletion, it only started a few days ago,” he says, tone serious. The doctor relaxes.

“Well, they’re not the only one. We have a tent full of them, luckily for you, we also have a cure.”

That’s news to me, I thought we only eased their suffering? More like delayed it really. Viktor leans in and whispers in my ear.

“The patients are recovering after yesterday, the leakage is lessening as time goes by. They should be back to normal in a few days.”

That’s good to hear, I was afraid they’d be sharing my condition forever. Although it’s much less serious for them considering they offset the loss on their own somewhat. James’ face regains its previous cheer at the doctor’s words.

“Fantastic, I knew I could count on you. Should I bring him to you then?”

“Don’t bother, I’ll give Sam the cure, he can administer it while you’re taking him to the capital.”

The merchant’s face stiffens just a tad at that.

“Now now Julia, we haven’t talked about his fee yet though?” he tries, but Madam Barrow is having none of it.

“Do you want your worker healed or would you prefer to lose him rather painfully?” she states, leaving no room for compromise. James’s face looks very troubled but her attitude doesn’t allow him to refuse. Eventually, he relents.

“Fine, okay fine, the boy can accompany me. I’ll be picking up more youngsters anyway,” he turns to me, “We leave in the early morning, don’t be late.” The doctor grins at his acceptance.

“I’ll pack some more meat for you then,” she says to me, then turns and walks back to the butcher’s. Leaving Viktor and me with the merchant. He seems confused about her comment but is smart enough to realize he’s been conned.

“That damnable old lady, I’ve been a merchant all my life but I could never best her mind. She would have made a most formidable opponent as a fellow trader, I suppose I should be happy she went for a medical life instead.”

Viktor seems inclined to defend her honor, but I can’t say I disagree with the man. She really is sharp as a tack. I speak up before he does though.

“Can I see the patient?” I ask.

James realizes we’re still here at my question, and offers one in kind.

“I hate to be rude but you’re not actually a doctor, are you? Are you sure you can administer the cure? I would really hate to lose a worker, all the more so because his dad rather scares me.”

Thinking back for a moment to feeding the meat to the patients last night, I decide that I’m qualified enough to do that again.

“It won’t be an issue, sir, I’ve helped with curing our other patients too.” This sets him at ease.

“Then follow me,” he states, and both Viktor and I do as he asks.

At first, I thought we were heading for the carriage that the other workers were unloading from, but it’s clear that James has a different spot in mind. We cross the field between the tent and the village and soon find ourselves in front of the gate. Parked right outside are more carriages, and I realize I’ve underestimated how rich the merchant in front of me is. Makes me wonder what he’s doing out here. There can’t be that much wealth flowing in this village unless they have a local specialty to export? That would explain some of this.

Passing through the gate, James is heading for one particular carriage parked the furthest away. He casually opens the curtains and hops inside. Viktor follows without a word. I, too, hop in and am greeted by the sound of groans. Highly reminiscent of the patients inside the village, I look at his state. He’s younger than I expected, can’t be much older than me, if at all. There isn’t much visibly wrong with him, aside from his scrunched-up face and the way he shivers every so often.

When I look at him with my other senses I see a wholly different story, however. There is barely mana remaining in him, and its absence is wreaking havoc in his system. Just yesterday I wouldn’t have done this, but I can afford to splurge a little with the preserved meat hanging on my back. So I put my palm on his stomach and insert some of my mana into him.

One thing I noticed these last few days, is that the natives all have this core in their body that stores their mana. From what the doctor mentioned while we were working, it also binds the mana to themselves, which somehow makes it easier to use. I don’t have anything like that, instead, I just pass any mana I want to use through me to align it with myself. I can move ambient mana around when there is any, but using it to cast proper spells requires alignment.

His core is running dry and my mana is practically unbound, ideal to replenish others with as their innate defense system doesn’t trigger. And replenish I do, not too much because I already cast that illusion earlier and I have to keep my reserves up, but enough to alleviate his immediate troubles. The effect is immediate and pronounced, his entire body relaxes and his breathing deepens. It takes a second for me to realize he’s fallen asleep.

When I look up I see James’s mouth agape.

“What… what? What did you just do!?” he nearly shouts at me. I recoil from him at the noise.

“It’s just a short-term fix, the real cure comes later,” I explain. But the merchant is having none of it.

“You just infused mana into his core! Do you have any idea how dangerous that is!” At this point, he really is screaming and I’m caught by surprise at his hostility. The patient comes to my rescue, however, woken up by James’s shouting.

“Sir?” he asks sleepily, “What’s wrong sir?” The merchant turns to him.

“It’s… it’s nothing Percy, how are you feeling?”

Perseus stretches and stands up. Then he jumps a little.

“Fantastic actually,” a grimace flashes over his face, “Well, a little sore still,” he adds. He leaves the carriage and we follow him out. Then the trader faces me again.

“I’m sorry Sam, you just scared me there. Infusing another with mana is a highly dangerous thing to do. I’ve never even heard of someone directly supplying someone else’s mana core.”

I let out a little laugh. “I guess we’ve both learned something new then.”