Hypothesis 1 - I am merely disposed to dark magics but could do normal magic...
Is obviously wrong on so many levels
I mean, 6 years in Bala isn't the longest, but given my habitual neglect of bodily health, in rabid study, I should have found my capability given the headmaster's suggestion of my talents.
Hypothesis 2 - I am only able to do dark aligned magics...
Also doesn't check out, I was able to perform ritual magics, though the efficiency of such rituals were truly awful.
Hypothesis 3 - perhaps my magic or more accurately its trigger is in my blood.
Well I can kinda check this one.
"Arc veluh Morrz Spiratas!" I call out while focusing on the blood in my palm
A tiny ember glows for a moment.
Nope, if my magic was in my blood that would have given me a ball of flame... Unless I didn't have enough blood for the incantation....
"Damn it I don't have enough information nor resources to waste on this so frivolously." I say to myself keeping the minor incantation in mind for future use, even an ember could be useful in the right circumstance.
I spent the most of the morning to early afternoon deconstructing the owl-bear thing.
Its hide was ruined beyond salvation but it was still vaguely in one piece.
So I cut it up strategically to give myself a set of inter-wrapping strips of charred skin over patches of burnt flaking skin.
I have to say, least comfortable clothing I have ever had, and when some of my skin split allowing contact with open wounds, well
It hurt to say the least.
At least I am not getting any more flammable than before.
Digging with a large stick I begin to break up the soil.
During the evening I finish carving out the dirt from where I would begin my riverside property.
I managed to make a pit roughly 1m~ by 3m~ by 5m~ deep.
this is where my estimate of the depth of the river walls is horribly wrong, which means that this river is significantly deeper than I thought.
Like closer to 40m~ deep and 100m~ wide, as for long, well even back in Auroua, rivers ran long distances.
Not a single clue how long they could run in this world.
During the time closing into night I discover that my staff is almost constantly attempting to grow, So I let it, in one corner of my hole I plant the staff.
I have also managed to finagle a stone sap tap into the middle of the staff.
So I have a fairly consistent flow of sweet water-ish.
It hasn't actually managed to get that deep but once it does.
Oh yes, I can smell it now.
The syrup....
NO Don't loose yourself Roland, it hasn't even been 2 days.
hahahahah I am lonely.
Well either way, I have a few tests to run.
Using my now confirmed ability to make sparks out of my congealed blood, I easily have a fire going regularly.
Not a big fire mind, but a fire none the less.
at this point I attempt to get my second night sleep with the good ol fire burning in mah pit.
-----------
Bala academy
The student noticeboard has a large article scribbled all over, a drawn portrait of Roland pre burns.
"It isn't fair!" A young boy says muffling his cries.
"HOW!?" a tall girl(?) booms.
"Well damn, the guy was a fraud after all." a gloomy teen man said.
"SHUT UP!" the teacher boomed the tower actually rumbling under the power of his voice.
The students quieten their discourse as the teacher continues.
"Roland has been lying about his ability and given Bala's requirements, has been given an ultimatum,
Survive in a savage plane of monsters and absurd magical flow, IF he survives his solid theoretical knowledge will be used by adding him to the faculty and given the usual teaching stipend."
The students groaned at this declaration.
"As such, any student currently in possession of the aforementioned theoretical work, will be required to hand in the work before its due date regardless of the completeness of said theory."
Many students heaved a sigh, a racial spectrum of many creatures undertaking magical education.
Few creatures let alone humans had the same theoretical knowledge that Roland possessed.
Unfortunately for both Roland and the 5 masters of the tower, rules are there to keep, and nobility wouldn't have let him live normally if the punishment wasn't handed out.
now that he was expelled for 2 years, they completely dropped the issue, assuming that the man wouldn't survive the hostile world.
Those who knew more than necessary had completely dropped interest when the decision was announced publicly.
------------------
Morning arrives at the worst times.
I liked to sleep in, especially with my night-time lessons.
Damn, I wish I was still at bala, no impending threats merely something I could do and another I could avoid convincingly enough that it didn't matter.
But it has now been 2-3 days that I have been here.
While I did take in some fluid from the weird bear's bloody flesh I am now desperate to get more.
And I do have a plan
taking one of the larger, well technically smaller, tree bases,
I cut most of the comparatively small tree down.
then I uproot the stump, positively exhausted afterwards, I manage to drag the stump back to my hole in the ground.
Using small embers I stick it on the top of the stump, and now the process begins.
I spend the next few hours slowly burning a larger and larger divot into the stump.
Slowly the stump becomes more and more bucket-like, and I make a significant length of rope.
about half of the bucket I would like the stump to be and I don't think I would have the strength to pull it back up if it was properly full.
Tying the rope around the stump and making sure the stump is upright on the rope tension, I sling it into the river holding the rope loosely while gauging the distance down the river.
If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.
the height of the river walls ends up at 38m tall.
And Once I feel the river fighting against my bucket I begin to drag it back up.
I am dizzy and lightheaded.
the bucket takes its sweet time with the rope.
I feel my concentration slipping when the bucker finally comes up to the edge of the cliff.
and I spill most of it pulling it over the edge.
forgetting to properly rig a retrieving arm.
Lapping up what water I could, I didn't have an option to test or boil it.
My stomach roils and gurgles.
Not sure if the water is fine and I just am reacting poorly to water after deprivation or actually dangerous water.
either way, need a bit more water, less mud.
Not that mud isn't useful.
I take a stick and snap the tip in such a way that it forms a hook.
Down down down goes the bucket.
and slowly, oh so slowly does the bucket come back up.
stick in hand when it edges back up, I catch the knot and set it down to get a good amount of water.
drinking the water I use the mud to fashion a boarder around my 'fire pit'
on top of this is a small rock.
when I get to a rock layer that isn't toxic I will make a boiling plate.
Urggg, my guts hurt a lot.
Probably isn't fatal... hopefully.
-----------------------
Pain.
Holy......
HMMPFH.
Rapid dehydration due to shitting it out like a fountain.
AHHHHHH.
By the gods this hurts.
But I pull up water to drink more.
Maybe if I drink enough of it, I would gain immunity to whatever is in this water.
Hell in a basket this hurts!
==================
Ha
no longer crapping like a minotaur fed weird mushrooms.
While I was making my survival chances drop, I thought up a potential enchantment to make for dealing with this shit.
given that my stone chisel is more metallic instead of directly harder, there may be a correlation that the magic changes by.
Anyways, I have the formations for a lightning spell on very low power, enough to kill the small things I hope.
On the bucket after it is deepened, I scribe the primitive symbols and runes for lightning.
Which brings me to a topic I think on often.
so what are runes?
I suppose that is kinda like asking what are letters isn't it?
But seriously, why do they interact with mana like they do?
I assume they interact with mana, I mean the current hypothesis is that my blood contains my magic.
so therefore I am either a hemomancer or a ritual caster.
Ritual caster because an surprising number of magics and rituals are independant to blood.
Hemomancer is more likely, though I honestly have no Idea How to check that I am a hemomancer.
By this point, I have drunk 2 and a bit buckets of water, no longer feeling like I am going to die soon.
Although I have to apply my blood both times to the rune to keep it working.
I assume it is because the runes activate and then changes are carried out until the blood runs out.
not that it seems that I have direct control over my magic, it simply means that I cant wave my hands and solve my problems.
then again, I have gone what 3 days so far and I'm not dead, Pretty good if I say for myself, which I can only do... cause I'm alone.
I'm already missing all of the people who begged me to finish their practical's for them.
Some of them were actually pretty interesting people, Carrbon, Mereive and Judika.
You know they had some interesting thoughts on fire, water and metal magics themselves.
that said magical theory is established in what parts of magic are actually possible to break down via the scientific method.
most 'talents' usually revolve around an area of expertise, a so called mold.
At least that is the theory behind it, usually it is just simple to accept and exhibit the proper requirements for certain magic types, usually falling into elemental types but some conceptual types are out there.
Usually they die before reaching adulthood.
Not a good sign, that said given that they can often perform actions which confuse even the most studious individuals it can be understandable that they are killed or possibly go insane.
Most prominent example would be the prince born with a time concept.
We don't actually know much about time, Definitely speaking.
Conceptually we have a great amount of speculation on the topic.
Poor prince however accidentally peered into the 'timeline' for 5 seconds before collapsing and clawing his own eyes out....
Man, I got to stop thinking morbid thoughts, I want to survive.
As I bring and drink half of the third bucket of water as weird tasting and tingly as it is.
I start hydrating the soil around my hole as I start remodelling my wonderful home.
Surprisingly for a forest there is very little leaves and sticks just laying around.
I assume that may be because of the whole savage world adaptation but I prefer to keep assumptions within testable bounds.
Hmmmmmmmmmmmm.
Mud, mud bricks, Mud walls.... that was a terrible idea.
I am now covered in slightly less dangerous but still problematic dirt in my freshly opened and leaking wounds.
If I don't die by the end of this week I am going to be so surprised I will voluntarily start skinning myself.
I think possible repressed desires to die may have surfaced due to despair.... Concerning.
Still don't know how I survived clear major bloodloss + extreme burn wounds.
But I am here and covered in... possibly dangerous mud.
Hopefully I don't depopulate the local sapling population enough that I can still get what I need.
yaaaaaay, another day of hard physical labour with a diminishing supply of food.
I hope there isn't any monsters that will tear me apart while I do this.