“I’m confused,” Farris said. “Who is this Tricky Dick person? Was he a mentee of Eisenhower?”

“Not in the slightest. Wait, you seriously want to tell me that you know who Eisenhower is, but you don’t know Richard Nixon?” Sam asked.

“Oh Nixon! The ‘I’m not a crook’ guy. Yeah, I know him. Why’d you call him ‘Tricky Dick?’ Was he famously a trickster and a dick?”

“I wouldn’t care to comment about that one way or another, I wasn’t there for the 1950 California senate elections. But I think the name derives most of its humor from only alluding to that fact, and from the rhyming, I guess. Oh, also Dick is also a nickname for Richard, so that’s where it came from.”

“Really? Any Richard?”

“I doubt you could go around calling Richard the Lionheart ‘Dick,’ but most Richards in the fifties? Go ahead.”

“Fascinating!” The gleam in Farris’s eyes indicated that he wasn’t being sarcastic. “See, this is just the kind of thing that I wish to learn from you. I could have spent hours by myself looking up information without finding out about a simple nickname such as that.”

“And then where would your life be?”

“Exactly!”

“Did anyone ever tell you your fascination with Terran culture is unhealthy?”

“Unproductive, yes. Unhealthy, no. A complete waste of time is the usual admonishment. Don’t tell me you’re also going to join in on the side of the critics?”

“I just find it a little unsettling to be the target of such a vivid interest. Kind makes me feel like the first Asian guy that an anime nerd from an all white town sees in college. If you get my drift.”

“I don’t.”

“That’s fair. Luckily, you’ve still yet to reach that level of weird. Although getting excited at learning a nickname does come close. No wait, never mind, I forgot about you learning English.”

“It wasn’t the nickname that gave rise to my excitement. But the methodology behind discovering it. After all, this might be mundane knowledge for you. But for most Terrans, the nineteen-fifties are like a lost golden age. A reminder of the world that they could never return to.”

“Funny. We had the same kind of people in the twenty-first century as well. We, and by ‘we’ I mean people with some sense in their heads and without prejudice, called them racists. Cause chances are it wasn’t the cross aisle adherence to Keynesian economic policies that they were harkening back to.”

“See, that’s just another thing that fascinates me about Terran culture. In-race racism. Hatred based on color, what a thing!”

Sam groaned. It wasn’t going to turn out to be one of those fantasy tropes, now was it? “Oh c’mon. Don’t tell me the concept of xenophobia because of minute outwardly difference is so foreign to you.”

“Of course it isn’t. I was mostly joking. But it’s pretty much a historical relic at this point. You’ve got to understand that we, and by extension every other race, have been in contact with each other for a long time. And one of the ways time had made its mark is by erasing the old concept of racism that you’re familiar with and replacing it with one based on our modern definition of a race, as an intelligent, magic-capable species.”

“That’s fine and all. Just as long as you don’t try and claim that you didn’t have the concept of racism in your culture before integration.”

“Fair enough. And we certainly did, to a certain extent. But, if you’d let me be so bold as to make this following claim without submitting any peer-reviewed evidence, I do believe it was to a lesser extent that the xenophobic phenomenon that you’re familiar with from your time. Probably due to the different nature of the starting point for our historical developments.”

“Oh? Are you talking about how all of your civilizations started at the same geographical cluster?”

“Indeed. All races, besides yours, that is, followed the same initial trajectory. Except the dwarves maybe, but they have lost all of their written recordings and their oral history makes no sense, so who knows? My point is, we never had the ‘pleasure’ of developing xenophobia in the same manner which you did because, for us, our aesthetic differences had no correlation to cultural or later national difference. From the start, we elves came in all colors at every point of major settlement. So, for us, racism was a very minor cause of xenophobia when compared to linguistic and cultural differences. Those, by the way, still very much exist, for us and the Imperials, at least. Even after the uniting effects that integration held.”

“That’s fascinating…” Sam cupped his chin.

“To you, maybe. To me, that is the normal state of affairs and it is you Terrans and your multi-faceted histories which are worthy of fascination. Just the thought of sailing somewhere, and arriving on some distant land where the people didn’t have anything in common with yours, is astounding to me.”

“You pick the most boring mundane things to be astounded at. Can’t you be more like a normal new-age spiritualist and act superior to your religious neighbors by pointing out to them the fact that the largest religions in the world borrowed greatly from each other and yet the hatred of the other side, as well as their original mother religion, is deeply ingrained in them?”

“Well, that’s nothing to be astonished by. We also have, had, that. Same origin of civilization makes for pretty similar creation myths. So most of our long-lasting religions were either similar in where and how they developed or similar in how they rejected on their previous iterations.”

“Plenty of holy wars, then?”

“Only at the beginning. Unlike the Imperials or the deshars, our biggest religions didn’t develop a marital aspect. Which, as the importance of individual prowess in warfare rose ever higher, meant that they greatly lagged behind secular centers of power when it came to dictating foreign policy. Which reminds me of yet another aspect of Terran history that I derive great satisfaction from: your wars.”

“What? Elven wars just don’t do it for you? You prefer non-magical combat, without throwing fireballs at the enemy?”

“First of all, no one is throwing fireballs in combat. They’re highly inefficient. And secondly, I wasn’t speaking of the technical aspect of the fighting. But of the causes behind it. The righteousness of some of your wars, the moral superiority of one side as compared to the other. We never really had that until the Epirak war. But you! You have such great examples of black and white wars where it is so easy to decide which side to root for. I mean, the American Civil War, the Second World War, the Cold War. Good guys on one side, bad guys on the other.”

“The Cold War? Really?” Sam made a show of looking around as though wondering where he was. “I guess higher education really has changed.”

Farris waved him off. “Even further back in your history, like in the Persian Invasion of Greece, or the Punic Wars. It is obvious who is in the right.”

“Not really. But leaving the Persians and Greeks aside. Who do you think are the good guys in the Punic Wars?”

“Carthage, obviously! The Romans were the upstarts. They attacked them first.”

“Now you’re just messing with me. There’s no way you truly think that, right?”

“Oh, you’re just biased towards Rome because of your proclivity to western heritage—”

“In what world does Carthage not count as part of the ‘western heritage?’”

“But, as an outside observer, it is clear to me which side was the right one.”

Sam pursed his lips. “And you decided to pick the side that didn’t even try to hide its practice of human sacrifice?”

“I… eh, what? They sacrificed other humans?”

“Pretty much every ancient culture had some form of human sacrifice. It’s just one of those things that every society has got to get out its system at some point. But while the Romans mostly kept their sacrifices to dire times, like when they were losing to Carthage. The Carthaginians were much more into the whole deal. Their specialty was in child sacrifice. Which people act like it’s worse, but I say that you gotta keep in mind that most of those kids were going to die anyway, so why not make their death have some possible meaning?”

“Make sense. If little Tollie is going to die anyway, why not try to score some extra points with your gods if they’re real? At least if they’re killing him humanely. Were they?”

“Oh, I doubt it. What you gotta remember about those people of old is that they greatly resembled your average Sims player. They want to see other people die. And if the dead is an infant, and the death is gruesome, that’s even better.”

Farris cupped his chin as though in deep thought. “And you’re saying that the Romans didn’t do it?”

“Maybe they did, maybe they didn’t, but probably not with the same relish as their Post-Phoenician foe. But it’s not like it matters, anyway. Because, unlike the clear cut other second war you mentioned, right and wrong didn’t play any role in the Romans’ fight with Carthaginians. Both of them wanted to be the sole empire in the region, and they were willing to sustain and inflict a great number of deaths to see it through. To our modern, condemning of imperialistic war, eyes, they should both be counted as the bad guys. Honestly, I think that the reason you believe the Carthaginians were the good guys was that they were introduced to you as the scrappy underdog.

“What is the first thing you learnt about them? That they lost the First Punic War because the politicians back home were stupid and cowardly, which means that now Carthage is on the back foot compared to their extremely militaristic and younger contender. But wait, the son of the dude who got the blame heaped upon him for losing the first war is a tactical genius and he’s pulled the gamer moves of all gamer moves by placing himself deep in enemy territory with only the unreliable Socii to provide him reinforcement. But wait! He pulled through this one unwinnable battle. No wait, he just did again. But now this Fabian asshole doesn’t want to act like a proper, virile, Roman man and meet him on the field of battle. Good, now that ‘guy’ is gone and the new consuls will raise the biggest army yet and beat this Hannibal and his elephants back to Iberia. Oh… Yeah, they lost again.

“But then, Hannibal, like the ultimate underdog that he is doesn’t (or can’t) capitalize on his victory and marches on Rome, and the politicians back home are still stupid as hell and they’re somehow losing a naval war to the most incompetent nation of sailors in the Mediterranean (although the Romans might not have been as bad as commonly portrayed). And Hannibal’s father’s true son has lived up to his father’s name by virtue of later historians being able to blame Carthage’s loss in the war on him. Cause there’s this new Roman general in town. He’s just like Hannibal, only a little less brown, so we don’t like him. And this new guy won over Spain for the Romans. But what you’ve got to remember is that no matter what the numbers tell you, it was the Carthaginians who were on the weaker side in Iberia.

“And now, soon to be Africanus, the Roman Hannibal, is coming to Carthage itself, so our boy Barca, the African Scipio, is called back because he’s the only capable Punic general. And would you guess it? The underdog doesn’t get his comeuppance in the end, possibly because he underdogged so hard that he made the other side into the underdog, and Hannibal ends up losing the battle and Carthage the war. And if that wasn’t enough, he then ends up killing himself with poison while in exile before the Romans could get to him and parade him like the assholes they are. And that makes us sad. So that make him a good guy. And thus we root for the Carthaginians that he represented and we criticize Rome for being conquering assholes.

“Did I sum it up about right?” he asked at Farris, who was nodding along in rapt attention.

“I’ll be honest with you. I was mostly joking about Carthage being the good guys. Really, I just knew the bit about the elephants and that’s why I liked them. But now that you’ve laid it bare before me, I have to admit that you’ve convinced of the possibility of there being prejudices in my judgment. After all, who doesn’t want to root for the underdog?”

“Cato the Elder, that’s who.”

“Oh, who’s that?”

“You do know I’m not from Roman times, right? The same way that I learned about the Romans is also open to you. You don’t need me to personally teach you about the rise and fall of most people’s favorite empire, now do you? Matter of fact, you don’t want me to teach you, because I’m not an expert in the topic and not only might I not know stuff, I might remember some stuff wrong. So listen to a podcast instead. Why don’t you? Or better yet, do what I do to learn about your history and go read a textbook. Even if learning about Rome has gone completely out of fashion, there are probably still copies online somewhere.”

Farris crossed his hands. “I don’t know… If I’ll do that, then it would make me feel like you’re not taking the whole mentor business very seriously. Shouldn’t there be some give and take when it comes to the act of teaching?”

“What the hell are you talking about? You’re the mentor. It’s your duty to teach me stuff. My duty is to learn from you. That’s the only exchange of information proscribed in the relationship. Besides, I never even agreed for you to be my mentor yet. Matter of fact, I don’t think you’re even fit to be one, seeing how most of our time talking has been spent on me telling you stuff you didn’t know.”

“Now that’s just not true. You just think that. Because I’m not some emotionless monster that doesn’t show his appreciation when someone teaches me new knowledge. So when I’m more excited and grateful to receive information than you are to from me, you feel as though you’ve allocated more resources towards educating me. When in reality, the scales tip much more in my favor to be counted as the greater granter of knowledge.”

Sam barked a laugh. “So because I’m not acting like a fanboy when I’m asking questions, that makes me an emotionless monster? Need I remind you that I’m currently under the mind-altering effects of magic and of the consequent tact that’s lacking in your statement?”

“Hm… That’s fair. Let’s strike that from the record, then, shall we?”

Sam turned his head as if pondering. “I don’t know… it’s going to be hard to do. Gotta say, I don’t think that I could ever see you as my mentor now that you’ve said something so hurtful.”

“Now, now. There’s no reason to be so extreme. If people held every stupid thing I’ve ever said against me, I would be out of a job and probably friendless.”

“That’s why you gotta make friends with people who are willing to endure your idiocy.” Sam pointed to his temple.

“Quite right. So shall I write you down as one?”

“For being your friend or your mentee? I don’t think those two can coincide.”

“Of course they can. Don’t be ridiculous. What, you think I let anyone else but me be Erianna’s mentor? Of course not. And I assure you, I consider Erianna to be one of my closest friends. And let me tell you, sometimes she can even stand to speak to me for a full five minutes, is how close our relationship is.”

“Not the whole five?” Sam gasped.

“From start to finish. And it’s closer to six if you starting counting from the time from when I start talking instead of from when she relents to talk with me.”

“What a great friendship. And what a brave woman. To stand you as she does. And with only minimal complaints, I assume?”

Farris raised an imaginary glass. “No more than half of the duration of the conversation.”

“Truly, a wonder of human being. Er… elven being.”

“That’s fine, you can say human being like you did. It translates the meaning correctly.”

Sam nodded in appreciation and raised his own imaginary glass in response. “Indeed? Well, here’s to the first thing I’ve learned from you all day.”

“What about all the other stuff I taught you?”

Sam smacked his lips and averted his eyes. “Uh… they don’t count? I forgot them already? It was before you forced me to accept you as a mentor?”

“So you do accept me as a mentor?”

“Sure, why not? If only so I could write that down in my CV, if this whole fighting thing doesn’t work out. Or, if it works out a little too well.”

“Wonderful! Then let’s shake on it.” Sam reached to grab the elf’s outstretched hand with a raised eyebrow and an amused smile. Farris’ hand grasping his was very gentle, considering he could probably crush Sam’s hand if he exerted even the slightest bit of effort. “Fantastic!” Farris released his hand and laid two glass bottles on the table. “Let’s have a drink to celebrate the occasion.”

“Coke? Really?

“Of course. I always keep some on me. Don’t look at me like that. It’s still pretty hard to get outside of the Terran Republic.”

Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

“Doesn’t help your case of not being a weird Terran fanboy.”

“I’ll have you know that this time I am joined by many more throughout the Web in appreciating the production of unique Terran liquids. Your beverages are prized by many people of all races for their taste and longevity. No one process sugar like you Terrans do.”

Sam nodded in agreement. Farris was probably right. And wasn’t Sam himself playing the part of a twenty-first century snob? Shouldn’t he also count the realm of beverages as one in which his period and culture reigned supreme? “But still, a coke? Don’t you have something a little more classic and appropriate for the occasion?”

“You mean alcohol? I don’t like it that much, prefer coke.”

“Me too, actually. I don’t know why I brought it up, really. Weight of cultural expectations, I guess.” Sam shrugged and clinked his bottle against Farris’s before they both took a drink. “So what’s first in store for me, teach?”

“Hm? Oh I don’t know. I rather hoped that other people will provide the actual education while I just reap the eventual praises. This is a top-notch facility, after all. And you’re being directly monitored and instructed by one of New Terra’s finest fighters. I don’t think there’s any reason for me to get involved just yet.”

“Kind of sounds like it’s Dan who I should be looking at for mentorship, then.”

“Now listen here! Dan Ritter is a fine man; brave, dependable, and strong as hell. But you know what he doesn’t have? A great sense of humor. Do you want a mentor that will just teach you stuff and get you ready for the battlefield? Or do you want one that will make you fall over in laughter instead?”

“The first one, one-hundred percent. And it’s not even because of the difference in the quality of instruction. I just don’t like the idea of other people being funny in my presence. Runs the risk that others will find them funnier than me, and that just won’t do.”

“Then you’re in luck. It’s been frequently remarked to me that I’m not even a little bit funny. Now, let’s get to teaching, shall we?”

“Oh? I thought that you already taught me a bunch of stuff.”

Farris waved him off. “I did, but this is going to be a more classic part of the curriculum. Something that every twelve-years-old starts learning after a very special day.”

“Gathering?” asked the twenty-two-year-old on the morning of his very special day.

“Indeed. So, there are two types, modes, of gathering. The first one doesn’t require much instructions, and is called, very aptly, passive gathering. Can you guess what the second one is called?”

“If you’re going to be my mentor, there’s probably one thing you should know about me. I don’t like when teachers ask the class a question with an obvious answer. It just wastes time.”

“That’s right, active gathering, we’ll done. But we’ll start with passive gathering, since there isn’t much you need to know about it just yet. It builds upon your core’s natural inclination to gather energy. The core passively gathers energy from its surrounding, if there is such energy to be found, and as long as the core is full, the incoming energy will be spent increasing its capacity.”

“And since most old people aren’t running around as level 8s, I’m going to assume that it’s efficiency is fuck all.”

“For all intents and purposes. Especially for people like you who are going to make frequent use of their magic. There are, of course, patterns that help speed up the process of passive gathering, but the process is still much slower than active gathering. For example, how filled would you say your core is currently?”

Sam was loath to turn his attention back to the niggling irritant that was his magic and the unexplainable metaphysical object that was his core. Nevertheless, duty called in the form of being a good student. So he turned his attention onto his right heel, just where he left his core. The instinctual tunnel into the concept was still there, and soon enough, Sam found himself observing his storage for magical energy once again. “About a quarter,” he said, although he couldn’t explain how he came to that immediate realization.

Farris nodded. “Sounds about right. So let’s say that with the best patterns to help with passive gathering, that’s still an hour or so before your core can increase its capacity on it’s own. And you probably already figured it out, but it takes way more energy to increase capacity than to replenish the same amount. So even when you’re full, passive gathering isn’t all that great.”

“Makes sense. So is there a formula for that? Like for every third of my capacity that I put in, I will increase it by a thirtieth?”

Farris laughed. “Try dividing that by a thousand or so and maybe you’ll be close. There isn’t a formula, unfortunately. Not to mention that the amount you need to put in changes from person to person and according to the state of your core and what level you are. But just remember that it’s exponentially harder to increase capacity than it is to refill. So never skip on refilling first, even if you are in a completely safe space. It’s better to waste some time in order to keep the habit going than to risk forgetting it just when you need it.”

“I assume you’re talking about actively gathering now?”

“Indeed, like I said, there isn’t much to talk about passive gathering with you right now. Even later, you won’t be learning about it in gathering lessons, but in patterns. Finding out which works best for you and how to change them to fit even better. So when you hear someone speaking of gathering, they’ll pretty much always be speaking about active gathering, which saves the need for the mouthful. All clear, then? Pretty simple, right?”

So far, Sam was grasping everything his new mentor was set on teaching him. Which of course worried him to no end because if he was getting it so easily, then that must mean that he must have gotten something wrong. This was, is, magic, after all. Surely it didn’t work in so simple a world of concepts. Why did they have a three years of gathering courses in the academy if the theory was so basic as to be handily delivered in a single morning before even breakfast? “So if got everything so far.” Sam opted to try and probe as to the possible depths of his ignorance. “I don’t need to think about passive gathering at all, because my body and patterns will do that for me.”

“Correct. Now you’re going to want and ask how do you actually gather, no?”

“That was my third question, actually. I was first going to ask what is the role of patterns in active gathering? And after that, why, if the subject is so simple to understand, are there academic courses about gathering?”

“You really don’t leave any stone unturned, do you? I was hoping to get to the practical and fun part of the lecture, where I would get to see you squirm and flail in your amateurish attempt to gather for the first time.”

“I’m here until Sarah calls me for breakfast. So whether you’ll get to see me squirm rests solely on your shoulders and the pace at which you decide to teach me stuff.”

“Hm… I should get to answering your questions then. Very well. Onto your first: There are no patterns to aid in active gathering. Using them is, if not literally impossible, practically impossible if you want to make efficient use of your time. The sustained patterns we use for passive gathering are building on our bodies’ natural function to gather energy. They don’t directly gather it. Active gathering, as you’ll soon see, is an incredibly difficult process for a living, thinking being to complete. Magic is ever shifting and requires constant redirection in order for us to make use of it. No pattern, no matter how ingenious, is able to mimic our mind’s ability to gather energy into our own body.”

“What about artifacts? Didn’t you say that the translator had the capability of gathering?”

“It is, and a very good one at that. Way better than even our best artifacts. But artifacts and other magical constructs are very different from living beings, which is what allows them to gather through patterns. They have no need for the second stage of gathering, which is what trips up patterns that seek to gather through our living bodies. This will all make a lot more sense if you’ll just let me explain how gathering actually works.”

Sam waved him off. “Answer my second question first.”

“Haven’t I already? I haven’t truly begun to explain gathering to you, only the two different types of gathering and how they work conceptually. Active gathering is a complex field of study, believe me. You’re going to need all the classes in the subject that you’re going to get in the next two and a half years. And that’s just for the knowledge side of things. There is also your ability to bring your understanding into practice. For example, even if you can, or think you can, gather in a quite room with no distractions and your core full, do you think you could accomplish it just as easily in the middle of combat, when your core is running half on empty and you’re juggling between tracing and maintaining some of your crucial patterns?”

“I feel like you want me to say no…”

“Correct, you won’t. But that’s a moot point because you still don’t know how hard even ‘simple,’ pre-foundational gathering is. So, let’s get to it then, shall we?”

“Wait.” Sam held up his hand and emptying the rest of his bottle. “OK, go on.”

“Thank you. It gives me great pleasure that you’ve allowed me so generously to teach you—”

“What’s that? Is my phone ringing, calling me to wet my thirst and break my fast?”

“There are three stages to active gathering. The first is finding the energy in the outside world. You’ll learn soon enough the two foundational theories to this stage, but I won’t tell you about them cause you don’t need to know yet and also I wanted to confirm something. The second stage is taking the energy into your body. It’s the easiest one because it’s pure instinct. Instinct that patterns don’t have, which is why they can’t hack it. The third is making use of the energy for whatever purpose you desire; for the body, to refill the core, or to increase its capacity. The difference between the first two and the latter purpose is the reason for differentiating between the terms gathering and cultivating. But you can see the difference between the two as nonsense, which doesn’t matter to you because you’ll never work on increasing capacity without your core being full, right?”

“Yep. And I don’t need to care about gathering into my body cause I don’t have the patterns yet to make it worthwhile?”

“Good. I see someone has already been teaching you about body nourishment. But not quite right. In my opinion, even with the patterns, it’s usually not worth it for people to gather into their body for the purpose of nourishing it. You’re better off using that time for cultivation. Of course, gathering into the body might be useful during injury, if you’re lacking any patterns to divert that energy to, and knowledge of will to trace a self-healing tracing.”

Sam nodded. “So three stages of gathering and three functions for the last stage. That doesn’t sound so complicated.”

“It’s always easier to grasp the concepts in gathering than carrying them out in reality. For example: even for you, the first step will be the incredibly difficult to complete for quite a while. And it remains as such for most people throughout their entire life. The second step: we talked about, isn’t hard for us superior thinking organisms, so be thankful for that. And the third’s difficultly depends on what you wish the magic for: Nourishing your body? No problem, that’s as simple as tracing energy through to it. Refilling the core? Easy enough, just take the magic and drop it in there. Increasing its capacity? Heh. That’s where the real difficulty begins.

“The best way for increasing capacity is perhaps the biggest field in magical research. Everyone trying to create new methods, rework older ones, and find out which one is best. But, the truth is... it’s probably going to remain an eternal pursuit. You’re going to learn about a lot of different methods of how to enlarge your core. You’re going to try all of them. Some are going to work great. Some are going to be shit. Then, one day, the previous and latter types will switch, but it won’t matter to you cause you’ve already moved to a third type that isn’t as considered as good as the others but for some reason comes most easily for you. And eventually, in the far off future, you’re going to find out that everything you’ve ever learned about cultivating, and even gathering as a whole, is somewhat wrong because it was aimed at being somewhat right for everyone in existence and you’re going to have to pave your own path to the higher levels. Or don’t, just use the most basic seeking and excavating techniques and as long as you persevere, you’ll find your way to level 8 eventually. Plenty of other people did.”

“What happens after level 8?”

“Things change. Don’t bother worrying about it. If you’ve made it to level 8, then the change in gathering isn’t going to be what blocks your future progress.”

“That’s going to be the level 9 and 10 patterns, then?”

“Well done. Picking up all sorts of knowledge, I see. So are we all clear? Can we move on to practice?”

“Just one question,” Sam said, easily ignoring Farris’ grumble. “You said that during the third stage you can use the energy you gathered for you body’s improvement. What I’m not clear about is why not just use the magic from your core?”

“You can use the energy from your core, sure, but why would you? Keeping your core topped at all times is your number one prerogative, remember? Plus, you want to train your skill with gathering’s first stage. So if you’re gathering for nourishments you’re killing two birds with one stone, and if you’re gathering for bodily injury, you’re probably running on an empty core anyway. Of course, there are some idiots who believe that magic gathered makes the body stronger than magic taken from the core. We aren’t one of those idiots. We don’t believe that hogwash. Not only does it not make logical sense, it doesn’t make scientific sense. Magic is magic, yeah?”

“Of course. What else would magic be?” Insert a line about sufficiently advanced science.

“Good. So now, we can finally move on to training—” Sam’s phone chimed. Farris narrowed his eyes at him. “Don’t…” he said, while Sam was taking out his phone to check the incoming message.

“You’re in luck,” Sam said. “It’s just Dan telling me to come to his office after I finish eating breakfast.”

“I knew I should have given that bastard more work. Whatever, we’re moving on. First step of gathering, try and sense the magic around you and grab hold of it.” Farris smiled widely.

Sam closed his eyes, thinking that he was going to do it with relative ease, just like tracing turned out to be. A minute passed before he opened his eyes and ask with a frown. “What do you mean, sense the magic?”

“Just what it sounds like. There’s magic everywhere around you. All you need is to reach out and grab it.”

“Are you saying that there’s magic here?” Sam waved his hand around frantically. Farris nodded, his smile somehow growing wider. “What are you talking about? It’s just air.”

“And a fuck ton of magical energy up for grabs. After all, there’s a direct correlation between this world being named New Terra and my family’s efforts at centralization being held up by decades. I assure you, there’s plenty of magic to be found.”

“You mean to tell me that you can sense magic? Right here on the table?”

“And under it. Of course, I’m a Ruler and I’m working with… heh, different rules than you are. But I’m sure that any of your new friends would be able to sense the abundant magic as well. It seems that you have. What do they call it? A skill issue? Perhaps you ought to… get good?”

“You know… I was beginning to panic. But you shitheeling around actually calmed me a great bit. So what’s the secret then? How do I actually sense magic?”

“No secret. You just have to send out your senses until you manage to hone in on the outside energy. Of course, there are beginner tips: Close your eyes, but that’s so elementary that you’ve already done that. Next, focus on a single point in the space, the top of your head, for example, or rather, the air slightly above it. Picture it in your mind’s eye. Imagine that there must be magic there. And know, that the magic will feel the same way that it does when it’s in your core; when it’s tracing through your body. Focus on the outside, while also keeping touch with the sensation that your magic makes you feel. You’ll get it eventually, I assure you. Try again.”

Sam did as he was told. And this time he held on for what felt like two minutes before he opened his eyes once again, same old frown painting his face. He only had to see Farris’ nod and encouraging look before grumbling and closing his eyes once again. Another minute followed. Nothing. Another. Still nothing. Many more minutes passed, or at least seemed to him as having gone by, and he was still stumped by the prospect of feeling something outside of his own body.

With a grunt, he took hold of his emotions and tried following Farris’s directions once again. First, holding the picture of the empty air above his scalp in his in the blackness of the visual field behind his closed eyelids. Then, he superimposed the same feeling he got while looking at his core, the same existence that he thought of as magic, onto the picture. Next, telling himself that there was magic out there, above him, just like it was deceptively inside him, and all he had to do was reach out and grab it. He failed to do so for the first minute after his reignited resolve. The second and third as well. A couple more passed before he had to steel his crumbled resolve once again and repeat the process all over. This time, he succeeded before the minute passed. There was magic above him. The same feeling that was accessed from his right heel was also in the air, at the tip of his imaginary fingers.

And just like that, it was gone. “Fuck!” Sam burst out.

“Had it and then you lost it, have you? Happens to everyone at first. Not me or Erianna, though, of course. We managed to hold on to it for a couple of seconds before losing it. But in our defense, we were twelve.”

“In my defense, fuck you. And also it’s not like I had much practice with magic in the ten years I have on your young self.”

“Try again. You’ll get it faster this time.” He did, but it still took him a couple of minutes before he once again held magic with his thoughts. He focused on holding the invisible energy, trying not to focus on the fact that this was only the first part of the first step. Amazingly, he managed to hold on to the magic just fine for yet another minute before he opened his mouth to ask Farris what to do now. Which is, of course, when he lost it once again. Farris laughed when he saw his crestfallen face. “Don’t let it get to you. Now, next time you manage to sense the magic, try and direct it into your body, preferably into the part of it where you pictured your core to be. That will be the second half of the first step.”

“And the second step?”

“Will be easy. Go by instinct. Instead of the magic just being in the same place where your body is, you want it to be inside of it. You’ll see once you try.”

And try he did. Sensing the magic didn’t come any faster this time, but once he grabbed hold of it, he tried gently guiding it downwards towards his sole. And of course I had to choose my fucking heel, he angrily remarked to himself, which was probably the reason why he, a moment later, lost his hold on the magic. It had just made it to his chin. Second try was better, he made it all the way to his groin before the words “magic dick” popped into his head. He opted to stray right at the navel on the next try.

Which turned out to be the one. He held the magical energy at the same spot which he conceptualized the entrance of his core to be. Guided by Farris’ instruction, he followed what came most naturally, trying to let instinct take over. It worked, amazingly enough. One moment, the magic was arranged at the same spot his heel was, but clearly out of it. And the other, it was inside of him, feeling just like the magic had when he was tracing. He still wasn’t sure what instinct he was supposedly guided by, but it still worked. Like it was halfway between a mental command and a physical one.

Thinking one step ahead, onto the third one, Sam tried drawing the magic in his heel into his core and was surprised to find out that he succeeded at the first try. However, the sensation from the magic he was holding was quickly drowned out by the sensation from the rest of the magic in his core, and he found out a moment later that he lost his hold on it. “I did it,” he said. “I even managed to get it into my core, but then I lost it.”

“Yes, that’s to be expected. It’s going to take you some time before you’re able to hold on to the magic inside your core, and way longer than that when it isn’t full. Which is just fine, because we what?”

“If I can’t hold on to the magic, how can I practice the third step?”

“Try again.”

“I’m serious.”

“So am I. What do we always do first?”

“Refill.” Sam relented with a sigh.

“Exactly. And what you did just now was refill your core. Luckily for you, however, we can move on to the final part of the lesson thanks to the fact that distinguished enough persons, like myself and your after breakfast appointment, are strong enough, and practiced enough, in order to refill your core for you. And that’s not a treatment many people are able to afford, let me tell you. Just ask your friends. Of course, at the end of the day, it’s a crutch, and you’ll do best to make very sparing use of others’ help in refilling your core. But I think that today qualifies for such an occasion. Now, give me your hand.” Sam obliged. “Now close your eyes and think of England.” Farris laughed.

“Ugh…” Sam shivered all the way up his spine. “You just had to say that, didn’t you?”

“Wouldn’t miss such a golden chance,” Farris smiled and leaned back, releasing his hand.

“That’s it?”

“Check your core.” Sam did and was surprised to discover that his core was, once again, filled to the brim. How he knew that, he still wasn’t sure. “Now, let’s trying ‘cultivating,’ shall we?” Farris rubbed his hands together. “Just keep guiding the magic into the core. It’s full, so it will try to reject you. Fight it, focus on a single spot ‘in it’ and push against it with all of your mental might. And eventually you’ll find that the magic you held is gone and that your core’s capacity has increased by an imperceptible difference.”

Sam gulped and tried to shut away his mounting concern, mainly about the difficulty of what he was going to try and do next. But there was also plenty of anxiety about how he was going to manage in the future. Level 10 in five years. Level 10 in five years. The phrase kept echoing through his head. Which was probably the reason why this time it took him longer than before to sense the magic. On the upside, he surprised himself by being able to direct it all the way to his heel on his first try and just as easy as before, into his body the energy went. A moment later, it was back again in his core, only this time it couldn’t find its way in and was, to Sam’s new sense, just on the precipice of the doorway between his body and his core, but in such a way that he could still retain his awareness and thus hold of it. Keeping to Farris’ instructions, he tried to keep pushing the energy through, into his core. While keeping up the pushing act, he was somehow able to note that the magic kept leaking, for a lack of a better word, out of his core and back into his body, where it behaved just like traced magic did and was slowly dissipating. Eventually, he was left holding no magic. He opened his eyes with a puzzled look on his face.

“Don’t worry about it,” Farris said before Sam could speak. “That just how it’s going to feel for the time being. Point is, you were holding the energy, and it had to go somewhere, didn’t it? So even if it didn’t feel like it, I assure you, it went towards enlarging your core.”

“But how do I know that it didn’t all simply got wasted by returning to my body?”

Farris raised his eyebrows in surprise. “Oh, managed to notice that, did you? Don’t worry about it, it’s just one of the downside of this brute force method. There’s a reason none of the techniques I taught you today have any names. But I assure you, most of your magic went towards increasing capacity. No need to worry about it. Now, just keep doing that until your friends call and invite your to breakfast, and you’ll be able to tell them all about how you were gathering all morning.”