Vayra sat in front of the diagram that Nathariel had drawn, folding her legs beneath her, and she analyzed the pattern with her eyes.
Over the past few months, since she had gotten her abilities, she had learned how to manipulate mana and Arcara in her channels with her breaths and mind—the Godscourge book had been helpful with a few tips.
She couldn’t control it perfectly, but between forming a picture in her mind of how she wanted the mana to move with certain breathing patterns, she could make general loops with Arcara through her body.
She shut her eyes, pushing her thoughts down towards her stomach, and drawing her consciousness along with it, until she visualized her core in her mind.
It was a glowing ball of white, electric starlight. The channels around it pulsed with glowing Arcara. So close to the core, there were hundreds of tiny channels, so small she could barely see them. There were so many that she could push her Arcara in almost any shape she wanted—so long as she gave it the proper guidance.
There was no time to waste. Nathariel didn’t seem in the mood for messing around, and she didn’t want to know what would happen to her if she failed to learn the proper breathing technique.
She inhaled, pushing the energy around in her chest. She tried to make her spiritual energies flow in a flame-like shape.
The first loop, it made more of a…round circle. The second, triangular. She pushed it out to the sides to try to make it look more like a flame, but it didn’t work.
“Imagine the flame of a candle above the core,” Nathariel stated. “Push your Arcara in towards it, and let it burn.”
Vayra tried, but the thought of pushing it inwards took a lot of effort, and it left her panting. Suddenly, she was thankful that her ribs and chest hadn’t taken any damage recently—nothing that hadn’t healed.
“It will be hard. It will be strenuous. Let it be.”
“Let it?” she panted.
“If it is easy, you’re doing it wrong.”
“And if it’s difficult, it’s right?”
“Not necessarily.” Without another word, Nathariel turned around, then jumped up into one of the feather-shaped trees. She doubted she’d get any more help out of him.
‘How do we know he’s even helping us?’ Phasoné asked.
He was testing her, Vayra figured. Whether the technique would help or not, she couldn’t say. She kept the thought inside her mind, though, so Nathariel wouldn’t hear it.
‘By the looks of it, it’s a technique best suited for purifying mana into Arcara. Which will be counterproductive.’
So would dying.
Vayra felt Nathariel’s gaze boring into her. She leaned forwards again and tried the pattern.
“Think about packing the mana inwards,” Nathariel instructed. “Contain the flame.”
‘I thought he wasn’t giving us any more help.’
He never said that, Vayra thought. I just guessed. And wrong.
The first two loops, her mana stayed incredibly loose and it kept trying to escape the grasp of her mind. But, as soon as she imagined pushing it inwards, the Aracara glowed brighter in her mind. She imagined she was packing a snowball with her lungs.
The more force she exerted near the top of the loop, then more she drew it into a point. Near the bottom, she let it expand, just a little bit, then packed it tight right before it touched her core.
As the Arcara wound around in short, tight loops, she felt vast amounts of mana purifying, and joining in with the glowing mass. She half expected it to tint orange, but it didn’t.
So close to her core, she felt the strength of the spiritual energies beginning to leak out into her body surrounding the core, leaping across the boundary between arcane and real, and infusing her with its essence.
It wasn’t starlight Arcara this time. She was laying the bricks at the base of a house.
But, though it bled into her core, the moment she tried to push it out into her limbs, she lost the feeling. The loop collapsed and the flame died.
‘It…it also seems to push mana outwards,’ Phasoné commented. ‘Out into the body.’
“It was a valiant effort,” said Nathariel.
Vayra was half expecting a ‘but…’ from Nathariel, but none came. She had to keep trying.
The next time, she managed to hold it for four entire loops before collapsing to her hands and knees.
You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.
‘It’s…incredibly effective at purification,’ Phasoné said. ‘At this rate, you’ll push yourself to advance in a few days.’
Vayra bit her lip.
“Listen well, disciple presumptive,” Nathariel stated. “As you advance higher, you will find that brute force will not avail you. The art of magical growth is not a game of strength, but of understanding.”
“Understanding?” Vayra asked.
“Understanding your Path, the ways of the universe, and yourself.” He crossed his arms. “Between Master’s Mate and Quartermaster, you must come to a certain acceptance about your reality, and the body you are living in.”
Vayra inhaled, ready to try again, but before she could start, Nathariel added, “I am finding you late in this stage, and there is little I can do to reverse the improper techniques you have been using. But that does not mean we can’t make the most of your situation—so long as you are willing to learn and listen.”
“I—”
“No more words. Prove it to me.”
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Nathariel needed to stop talking. He knew he did. He was giving her too much help.
He should have walked away an hour ago, but the moment he tried, a magmaspawn tried to push through the wards he had erected in front of the doors, and he had to dispatch it before it attacked the Mediator.
With a sigh, he remained in his tree, perching high above the maybe-disciple.
Maybe? What was he thinking? He was supposed to be giving her impossible challenges, ensuring that he would have every excuse not to take another disciple.
While she worked on the technique, trying to push herself to hold it longer or extend the flame further out into her body, he stepped over to her side and looked through her bags. Inside, she carried a multitude of elixirs—to be expected, though she didn’t have nearly as many as some of the God-heirs from powerful families, nor as high-grade.
What intrigued him the most was her book, bound with a black cover and titled ‘Godscourge.’
As she worked, he flipped through the book. It was…interesting, to say the least.
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Vayra couldn’t tell how much time had passed in the sealed-off chamber. Everything was always the same shade of flame-red, like it was an eternal sunset. Phasoné said a day had passed since they started learning the new cycling technique, but Vayra wasn’t sure if she believed the Goddess. It felt like it had been much longer.
She didn’t know if she was getting better or worse at it. She managed to expand the pattern of mana and Arcara movements away from her core a little bit, but the moment she tried to send it more than…an inch, maybe two, away from her core, it faltered and she couldn’t push the mana out into her body any better than she’d been able to before.
Finally, Nathariel placed a hand on her shoulder and said, “That’s enough.”
Vayra’s eyes widened. “I’m sorry. I can’t do the technique, I—”
“You managed the technique perfectly fine,” Nathariel stated. “Though it took you long enough.”
“Long enough…?”
“Most get it in an hour or two.”
Vayra fell back, resting on her hands and letting the warm dirt seep between her fingers. “I don’t think I got it at all. And now my core is almost full, with no framework to build an enhanced body on…”
Nathariel gave her a smug grin, then spun away, his robe snapping behind him. In his hand, he held a black book. No…her black book. He asked, “Where did you get this?”
“A friend gave it to me.”
“It was a generous gift,” he said, then tossed it back towards her. She barely caught it by the spine. He crossed his arms. “I wouldn’t despair, if I were you. That book, it describes types of bodily enhancement that…haven’t been practiced since before the time of the Mediator.”
Vayra raised her eyebrows, and Phasoné let out a…sound, which made Vayra think vaguely of disbelief.
“Phasoné can read it herself; I’m sure she’s doubting me,” Nathariel continued.
‘I can’t read it myself, actually, unless this brick-headed phoenix cracks it open and starts flipping the pages. Can you tell him that, Vayra? Please?’
Vayra didn’t. Instead, she leaned forward and listened more intently.
“Most types of enhanced bodies nowadays revolve around pure strength,” Nathariel told her. “But ancient knowledge would suggest that there is more than one type.” He tilted his head towards the book. “You will need to lay a different foundation, but that process has already begun. I say we finish it.”
“So…you’ll teach me?” Vayra mustered the strength to push herself back to her knees. “You’ll help?”
A flash of reluctance crossed his face. “Let’s call it…advising, for the moment. I don’t like the Order, and you Mediators aren’t much better. But I hate God-heirs, and you’re our best shot at putting them in their place.”
“Thank you!” Vayra tried again to bow, but her body collapsed under her, and she planted her face into the mud.
“Get some food into you, girl,” Nathariel demanded. “I can speak while you eat.”
“Yes, sir.” She pulled over her haversack and retrieved a puck of hardtack. It was her last puck, but with any luck, they would be out of here in a few days. As Nathariel paced around her, she began to gnaw on it.
“Since you’ve figured out how to temporarily Brace your body with starlight, and since the Mediator Form is a similar technique, I figure the best thing we can do is direct your enhancement directly at your Arcara channels.”
Vayra couldn’t help but feel a pang of regret. She had truly been hoping for an enhanced body that would give her physical strength like she’d never had, strength to resist even the strongest attacks, like Myrrir, or to be able to fling opponents around with a quick punch or two. “Are you sure—”
Nathariel stopped in his tracks, then he turned and looked at her with a new sort of intensity in his gaze. “You will never be the strongest, not physically. Sure, with a traditional enhancement, you will overpower a regular un-spirited man now and then.” He walked closer, then flicked one of her arms. “But be honest with yourself. You’re a twig. No matter what I do, you will never be able to overwhelm the bigger, bulkier God-heirs, even those at the same stage as you. That’s not how you are built. You must do what you can with what you have.”
Vayra opened her mouth, about to argue, but she had nothing to argue with.
“So, accept that, and let’s get this enhancement done with. You need to be more than a wall of brute force.”