Megan flicked the bolt of semi-chaotic mana she’d created, slamming it into the barrier that Samuel had conjured in front of her. Her mana spread throughout the body of his spell and shattered it. Samuel nodded his silent approval, then conjured a target in the middle of the practice room, indicating that she should attack it. She turned on the spot, pointed her right hand at it, and unleashed a small ball of fire. It singed the target dummy, but not much else.

“Your offensive power still needs work,” Samuel pointed out. Like she didn’t know that already, she thought. “Try again.”

She gathered as much mana as she could and unleashed two blasts of air. The first rocked the dummy slightly, and the second knocked it over. She let out a long sigh, feeling her body get heavy with the effort and expended mana. She was sweating freely and breathing heavily from the training exercise. She felt Samuel’s mind touch her own, and, repressing the urge to defend herself, grudgingly allowed the contact. Almost immediately, she felt mana flood back through her system, reinvigorating her. The headache eased, though the aches of her body remained present.

“This will be the last refill,” Samuel said. “I don’t think you could handle another.”

She nodded her understanding, took several deep breaths to steady herself, and stood upright. At once, Samuel’s hand lit up with mana. He seemed to have an endless pool of energy to draw upon, she thought. That had been the eighth time he’d refilled her reserves completely, and yet it seemed to cost him nothing. Remembering all the rumors of his seemingly limitless mana, she grimaced. Had he even struggled with his own training?

“Conjure me a barrier,” Samuel instructed. When she complied, he gave a single nod of satisfaction. “Do your best to defend.”

He sent a tiny blast of air at her, which stopped inches from her body, and was reflected by the barrier she’d created. It was followed by two, then four, then five more as Samuel peppered her defense with slightly stronger attacks. He held back his true power, she could tell, but even then, it wouldn’t be long before the shield broke under the barrage. Samuel was watching the barrier closely, waiting for the moment it would take the final shot.

Sixteen shots later, he sensed that it was at its most vulnerable. Megan noticed the moment too, sensing that she was nearly out of the mana he’d given her. Thinking quick, just as he raised his hand to cast the final attack, she let out an attack of her own, a tiny bolt of lightning that arced in a wide path, heading directly for him. He reacted with the usual speed, flicking her attack to the side with his free hand while his main destroyed the barrier.

“Well,” he commented, lowering his hand. “You’ve certainly got a sharp instinct for fighting, and your reserves have increased a little. What you need now is to practice your power and efficiency.”

“Efficiency?” She queried, letting her legs give as she sank to the padded floor. “Is it possible to make a spell cost me less?”

Samuel nodded. “As a matter of fact, it is. The magic to do so is very obscure, but it exists. But I’m not speaking of that. I’m going to teach you how to draw mana from magic around you. If you can master this, you can not only refill your reserves a little from each attack but also send your own to aid an ally’s magic..”

“I know how to do that,” she said suddenly. “Archmage Thunderborn taught us how to increase the force of a friend’s attack.”

Samuel nodded again. “That is true. This, however, is a more, shall we say… subtle approach. You can learn to take control of the magicks launched around you, to redirect them for your own benefit.”

She perked up at that, and he grinned knowingly at her. “Just watch.”

He weaved his left hand in an intricate pattern through the air, and she watched closely as mana trailed from his fingers, shifting into lightning as it moved. He created a long, stringy piece of lightning, and, gathering it up into a ball, tossed it lightly into the air. The mana broke away from his body completely, becoming free. But before it could strike anything or fade, his mana reached out and seized hold of it again. Instead of its upward trajectory, it turned at a sharp angle and streaked towards the dummy laying on the ground. It pierced through the wooden shell and knocked the target back several feet.

Her head had turned to follow the path of the attack, and she gaped in wonder at the casual force behind the comparatively small spell. She could see the target dummy smoking slightly at the impact and the dregs of leftover mana drifting away, the mark of a spell being cast within the past few seconds. Then her eyes widened as she saw those same dregs swirl together and return to Samuel. It wasn’t the full amount he’d expended with the attack, but he’d reclaimed at least half of it.

She didn’t have to try very hard to imagine how useful that skill could be, she thought. “How is that possible? Don’t all magicks cost mana? Using mana to gather more just seems impractical.”

“Normally, it would be,” Samuel said, pointing to indicate that the question was a good one. “But you, like many mages before you, are forgetting a very crucial fact.”

“Which is?” She prompted.

“Where does your mana come from?” He asked her. “Where does it form naturally for you to use?”

“The mind,” she replied at once. This was a well-known fact for all students of the College, specifically those who had read his book, Tome of the Mind. “Our mind naturally produces it while we rest.”

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“Exactly,” he said. “It can even keep producing it in the midst of battle if you have enough training. But what happens to the mana that is created, but hasn’t yet been used?”

“It’s stored in the mage’s focus,” she replied. Each mage apprentice was taught to store their excess mana for later use, as to not let the energy go to waste.

Samuel shook his head slightly. “That’s the most common use for our mana, yes. But even before that, what happens with the mana?”

“Nothing,” she said. “It just sits there, around your body.”

“Yes and no. Your mind uses mana to function, outside of casting magic. But instead of storing it away in an amulet or staff, what other uses do you think could it be put to?”

She thought about that for a moment, her mind muddled with exhaustion. Mana produced by the mind, as far as she knew, just sat there, surrounding the body. It was one of the signs that identified fellow mages. The strength and density of this natural field was also one of the key ways to gauge a potential opponent’s strength. Finally, mana that settled around a mage’s body often fluctuated and moved with their changes in mood. Depression and pain caused it to compress inward, while anger and triumph caused it to swell.

She gasped at the realization. “It can be controlled!”

Samuel’s face split in a wide smile. “Exactly. It’s not a lot, so isn’t useful for combat, but it can be put to some interesting uses.”

“So,” she thought aloud, looking from him to the target dummy and back. “If the mana from your spell started there, you can use your body’s natural shroud to bring it back?”

Samuel’s smile widened, his eyes alight with the typical joy of a teacher who’s shared an important lesson with his pupil. “Correct! Now, you’ve had a few minutes to recover, and it looks like you have enough energy to try.”

He was quite right, she noticed with some surprise. Still essentially a novice, by comparison, she hadn’t noticed the tiny surge of fresh mana coursing along her body. In another hour or two, this process would help her throw off the effects of burning so much mana in so short a time. She went immediately, as if out of instinct, to store it away into her new necklace, but Samuel stopped her with a quick hand gesture.

“Just leave it be for now,” he commented. “Try doing exactly what I just did.”

She nodded her understanding and got shakily back to her feet. He’d already conjured another spell, a large lonely flame, in his right hand. It simply sat there, burning brightly and casting a fierce shadow on his face for several seconds. She knew immediately that, if he were to send that flying at her, she’d stand no chance. But instead of sending it flying, he simply lowered his hand, breaking off the source of fuel. The flame lingered for a second longer, then faded away, leaving a bright point of light on her eyes. She blinked away the mirage.

“Grab the remains,” Samuel instructed her quietly. “Reach out with your own mana, and take hold of it.”

She tried. It was tricky to get a grip on the minute energy gathered around her own body, and the wisps of leftover mana were fading quickly. But she tried too hard to move quickly and felt her control lapse. Instead of stretching out to make contact, her mana just settled back around her, boiling with impatience, and the dregs disappeared from view.

“Don’t rush it,” Samuel said. “The trick to speed is not to hurry.”

“Who said that?” She said, her attention snapping back to him. “I’ve never heard that before.”

“It does sound counter-intuitive, doesn’t it?” He asked with a grin. “I got that phrase from my old friend Grimr. That old bastard was full of deep, confusing sayings like that.”

“How can you be fast without hurrying?”

He raised his hand and held it, palm up, before her. “Your focus should always be on a smooth, instinctual action. You learned this when you started training, didn’t you? You focus on the feel of your mana around you, or in your focus, and will it to move.”

She nodded her understanding. It was indeed one of the first lessons that a mage learned in his career. It wasn’t something taught, rather a natural start of control that every mage had. Once they discovered their magical talent, they began to experiment with it, and eventually, through trial and error, they learned to harness and direct that power into spellcasting.

“Did you start casting spells fast?” He asked her. Then, without waiting for a reply, he continued. “No. You were too focused on learning how to do even the most basic spells properly. You learned how to channel your mana and change its properties into one of the basic elements for combat. But with each new spell mastered, and hours of practice, you got faster.”

“Don’t hurry,” she commented. “Just let your mind move it at its natural speed, and you get faster.”

“Correct,” he said again. “It’s a very small and seemingly simple lesson, but nonetheless, it’s an important one.”

She thought about that for several long moments, letting the lesson sink in. She was a quick learner, as her teachers and fellow students had come to realize. She wasn’t as fast as Michael or Rachel, who picked up complicated spells often within the same day they were shared by the teachers, but she generally beat the majority of students in becoming competent with the magic.

“That will be all for today,” Samuel was saying now. “You’re nearly dead from exhaustion, and it would be unhealthy to refill you again. So take what you’ve learned today, and practice it on your own in your studies.”

She looked up, slightly surprised. “I’m still going to continue my classes like normal?”

“Of course,” he agreed. “We still don’t know any more about what’s coming than we did a year ago with Eric. In the meantime, I want you to get as strong as possible. Continue learning, and I’ll meet with you regularly to augment your studies.”

“Alright,” she said, adjusting her red robe. She hadn’t thought of returning to the main school, where she’d have to deal with the extra attention of being a Paragon Apprentice. “If you say so, Samuel.”

He nodded his appreciation of her words. “Come back to my tower at the end of the week, and I’ll see how you’ve progressed.”

She gathered up her satchel, which contained her wand and other possessions. As they bowed to each other in the common sign of respect, she withdrew the tool and tucked it into the belt of her robe. Samuel waved her out the door, into the main halls of the campus. “Have a good evening, Megan, and I will see you next week.”