"We didn't talk about it during Nolan's nap," Dylan says as he returns to the back yard, his son in his arms. "But what's the price if we accept magic lessons from you? I can't imagine it's something like helping clear the undergrowth. Magic seems a bit too expensive for that sort of trade."

Of course he didn't ask about it during Nolan's nap. We didn't really do much talking during that.

"The basics are free," I tell him. "It's the things beyond that which has a cost. As I said this morning, I do think everyone should at least know the basics of magic. We can get to the cost for further education later, if it become relevant. Come on, back to the learning zone."

I lead them back to the learning zone and Dylan sits in the same spot as before, seating Nolan on his lap. I sit on my teacher's stool, but don't pull anything from the shelf of drawers this time.

"What do you think magic is?" I start with the basics.

"That art of wielding mana and shaping it," Dylan says. "Creating effects."

"That's one way of viewing it," I say. "But at its core, magic is the art of using mana to manifest your will upon the world. Normally, you need three things for fire: air, fuel, and heat. You can bypass all of that with magic. Technically, mana is the fuel, but that's a little bit different and not exactly correct. With magic, you can simply use mana to fuel a spell that creates the fire regardless of whether or not there's sufficient air, fuel, and heat.

"If you want to stop something from hitting you," I say. "You need to use some sort of object, place it in the path. You need to have the materials, fashion the shield. With magic, you can simply conjure a shield of force instead. One of the most basic magics is [Telekinesis], the art of moving objects with your magic. Technically a force spell, but there's no field of force, just the object moving.

"I could go on for hours about how magic allows you to ignore what should be possible and create the impossible," I say. "But that's the short version: magic does what is impossible, allowing our wills to manifest upon the world. Does that make sense?"

There's confusion in his mind, but it's not too extreme.

"A little," Dylan answers.

"Alright," I say. "Just understand that magic bypasses normal limitations, allowing you to do what you want to do… provided you know the right spell, which you fuel with mana. The most basic skill required for anyone to cast magic is the ability to sense their mana, the fuel for spells."

"The writing boards and pens use mana, right?"

"No," I answer. "Mana is what we use to create magic, but some things are already magical, such as magic crystals. Therefore, mana isn't needed for them to work. Some magic objects react to the input of mana, making their effects more pronounced, but that wasn't necessary for the pens."

"Okay."

"The normal way to teach a novice without a strong bloodline how to sense their mana," I say. "Is to teach them how to meditate until they feel it. Those with strong bloodlines may have magic effects they enact even before learning, and can use those to learn how to sense their mana."

Though the passive forms of [Empathy] and [Foresight] don't consume mana, so I wasn't able to use those to learn how. They also likely came through some sort of blessing granted when I was very young, or even while still in the womb, rather than a special bloodline. Any bloodline strong enough to have just one of those as passive would never have a child by accident.

Spirits sometimes grant such bloodlines to babies for random reasons and I will never pretend to understand why.

"Mana," I say. "Is an energy which flows through our bodies in streams, similar to our veins. It stretches to every part of our body in a slow flow. When we use it, that flow speeds up, stimulates our bodies. It's minor when you're weak or not casting very strong spells but as you grow stronger and use more potent magics, the effects become more pronounced. The heightening of your senses during spellcasting and for a little time after is one such effect. The effects from the stimulation aren't something amateur mages need to worry about, it's something which takes years of dedicated studying and casting to start to notice.

"However," I say. "This same increased flow also causes other effects, such as the slowing of your aging. Again, not something you'll need to worry about unless you really do a lot of spellcasting, but it's why many mages are known to live for more than a century: their aging has slowed a little."

"So if we use magic enough," Dylan says. "We'll end up aging a lot more slowly? But not if it's just basic use for simple things?"

"Correct," I say. "There's more, but it's not too important right now. I can explain about bloodlines later. The important thing to know is that mana flows in its own veins throughout our bodies."

"And we need to learn how to sense those?" Dylan asks. "So I suppose it's just me learning, then? Nolan's only two, deep meditation ain't really a thing he can do."

"Nah," I snort. "Remember how I said there's a more recent school of thought regarding magic? It's technically one that's been around for awhile, but a certain archmage is within it and that's causing more to consider it. Something else he's involved with is a new way of teaching people how to learn to sense their mana. Rather than months of meditation, it takes five minutes."

"That sounds… dangerous," Dylan's mind is filled with suspicion.

"It is if you don't know what you're doing," I tell him. "It involves an experienced mage sending a little of their own mana into you and having it trace along your mana veins. A person's body naturally wants to reject another person's mana so you become immensely aware of its presence within you. One who knows the right method and has enough control over their mana can avoid triggering the body's self-defense mechanism against foreign mana while still allowing the feeling. What's causing the feeling you get is your own mana reacting to the foreign mana, so you'll be able to sense it without a negative effect.

"And yes," I say. "I know how to do it. I have exceptional control over my mana and have taught a few people how to sense their mana this way. You can decline if you want, just know that it'll take longer to start using magic if you go the meditation route. And this one will let Nolan learn how to use magic sooner, too."

Dylan thinks about it and I can tell by the feel of his mind that he's wrestling with the decision.

"Okay," he says. "Me first, though. And stop if I say."

"I will," I stand and walk toward him. "I can touch either your chest or you back for it, and generally do the back."

If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

"Okay," he says.

I kneel behind him and place my right hand on his back, then send a small amount of my mana into him. One of the reasons this is not a good idea for most people is that they would need to be able to sense the mana veins in another person. My sense for my own mana is good enough that I can receive feedback on the specific nature of things it touches so when it touches a mana vein, I can feel it.

For five minutes, I allow my mana to create a thin coat over the mana veins in Dylan's torso and upper arms. There's discomfort in his mind, as well as a little bit of surprise. When I pull my hand away, Dylan looks at me.

"It's still doing… something."

"Your body's now neutralizing the foreign mana," I explain. "It's a little difficult to explain simply, but the feeling will go away within a minute."

"It's already fading," he says.

"Yeah," I say. "Are you okay with me doing it to Nolan now?"

Dylan seems uncertain, but the nature spirits from earlier are still manifested and the one sitting on his son's shoulder isn't reacting badly to what I suggested.

"Rowan's going to do something," Dylan tells Nolan. "And it's going to give you a weird feeling in your chest. Try to pay attention to that feeling, okay?"

He waits for a response from his son, but none comes. A peek into Nolan's mind reveals to me that the kid's wondering what his papa's talking about, since all I did was put my hand on his back.

"Here," I place a hand on Nolan's back and channel a little bit of mana into him, coating his mana veins with it. "This is the feeling. I know it's uncomfortable, but if you can learn to feel the not-uncomfortable part on your own, you can learn to use magic."

I keep an eye on his thoughts during this and stop the moment he can sense his mana on his own. It takes him about three minutes to start sensing the mana veins in his hands, which he begins examining, staring down at them while curling and uncurling his fingers.

"Now that you can both feel it," I return to my seat. "The next step is simply trying to manipulate it, to move some outside of your body. It can be hard for a beginner to manifest a visible amount outside of their body, for various reasons, but there are tools to help with that."

A gesture from me opens a drawer on the shelf, and out float two wooden spheres 3" in diameter. The drawer closes as the balls float over to the two of them, and Dylan grabs both to examine. Nolan looks at them curiously as well.

"These are training tools?" Dylan asks.

"Mana is like a muscle," I say. "Once you learn to use it, it becomes easier. You need to train yourself to do that, and to control how much you use. Those orbs look like polished wooden spheres, but they change color when mana is moved into them. Your first goal is to be able to move mana into them, then to learn how to control the amount you're putting it. They're orange if you put in too little, green if you put in the right amount, and red if you're putting in too much. The color returns to normal if you stop putting mana into them."

"Before I'll teach you anything else regarding magic," I say. "You'll have to first be able to make those spheres stay green for thirty seconds straight. It doesn't take very much mana to do, but it takes a fair bit of effort and practice. There's another step after that, but this is the first one. Don't expect to be able to control your mana that well today, it takes practice and time. While you two do that, I'm going to do something else."

I exit the learning zone and head over to my food storage. Once I gather the items I want from there, I pluck berries from bushes in my garden. Not my magic reagents garden, though – another of my projects the last two days was moving more berry bushes here. Ordinary blueberry bushes from the barrens rather than magic berries.

There's no reason for me to not have some indulgences like this.

Instead of an apple pie, today's afternoon dessert is a blueberry pie. After cooling it to a temperature safe for eating, I call Dylan and Nolan over. Dylan tells Nolan to leave the sphere on one of the stools, though they roll off. Nolan keeps trying to get them to sit on one of the stools, and it's honestly kind of cute.

"You can leave them," I call over to them. "I'll take care of them later. Come on, I made another pie."

Nolan perks up at the word "pie" and lets his dad pick him back up and carry him over. As I serve them the slices of the pie, Dylan's attention turns to a wooden jar sitting on the food storage table. The table is under a shelter with a rain ward on it, so I don't have to worry about anything getting wet or messed up from that. It's all only outside because I don't have much space inside of the cabin.

"What's in that?" He asks. "Or should I not ask? I can recognize sacks from the village that the dry goods are in, and you've got the crates for the meat, and that's butter and eggs. But the jar… I ain't able to figure out what's in that."

"That's pearlash."

I don't need [Empathy] to tell his confusion, it's pretty evident on his face.

"You know what potash is, right?" I ask.

"Yeah."

"It's that, but processed a little further and mixed with a little bit of an acid," I explain. "In this case, I used cranberries from up in the barrens. Juiced them and separated out the acids, then mixed with the processed potash. Pearlash is good for baking – makes breads even lighter and more fluffy and is more consistent than trying to do it with yeast. Learned about it during my travels."

"Pasta, minced meat, and now pearlash," he says. "You like learning about new foods, don't you?"

"You'd be surprised at the number of times I went somewhere just because I'd heard about some sort of food they had," I tell him. "Actually annoyed quite a few people, but there wasn't much they could do. I was sort of my own boss."

"Must've been nice," he says.

"Met quite a few people," I nod. "Learned multiple languages, foods, techniques, and more. The training spheres, for example, are something I learned about not long before coming out here. They're from the Goldfir Kingdom – it's pretty far north of us, so you probably wouldn't have heard of them. You two are probably the first members of the Silveroak Kingdom to ever learn using them."

"They gave them to you?"

"Nah," I answer. "I wasn't actually supposed to learn how to make them, either. It's a trade secret of a specific workshop. I just didn't tell them that I'm good at reverse-engineering magic tools."

"What's reverse-engineering?" Dylan's frowning.

"The ability to take an item and figure out how it's made," I answer. "It's not an easy task for magic tools, but that's never stopped me before. Anyway, let's eat before it get too cold."

The moment I say that, Nolan grabs his fork and takes a big bite of his slice, getting berry filling all over his lips. His face is as neutral as always, but his mind shows his delight quite well to my sense.

"Thanks," Dylan says once we finish. "I think Nolan enjoyed it… a little too much."

I snort and conjure some water to wash the boy's face off with, then Dylan picks up his son.

"We're going to head back home now," Dylan says. "Thanks for teaching us, and for letting us hang out, and everything."

There's some caution in his mind as he says that, but a lot of gratitude. He's happy there's someone who isn't treating his son like a cursed object rather than just a two-year-old but two years of dealing with the former has him worried I'll suddenly start doing it as well.

"No worries," I walk over to the meat storage crates. "Take some meat with you as well. Don't worry about the cost, you did more than enough help with the undergrowth to earn it even with the reading lessons."

Rather than just an hour or so, Dylan and Nolan helped me for almost three. I wasn't complaining, though, even if Nolan got bored and kept switching to playing with sticks and rocks. He's two so I wasn't really expecting help from him in the first place, and he did actually try to help.

It was probably right for me to make two decks of the cards with plants painted onto them for them to use to compare. Nolan tried using his own deck to see if the plants matched up with the drawings, but he sometimes needed help from his dad.

"Thanks," I can feel the reluctance in his mind. "Nolan? Can you thank Rowan for the food?"

Nolan looks at me and doesn't say anything, but when I peek into his mind, I can tell he's thankful. He's also worried "Papa gonna burn meat again". It seems Dylan doesn't know how to prepare the meat that well, so I should probably teach him that, too.

"You're welcome, Nolan," I say. "And Dylan? I was serious when I said we can do this every two days. Either every two or every four."

"Don't you have a lot of other work?"

"Not so much I can't do this," I say. "And you two are helping me some. I still have the rest of the afternoon to get things done, too."

"Alright," he accepts the meat. "Thanks."

"You're welcome," I say. "May the spirits and gods guide your paths."

"May the spirits and gods guide your paths."