So the rampage surprisingly didn’t last long. I was stopped in place, sent back to my boulder, and forced to watch some fairies stuff black worm things into the baby monk who turned me into that raging pig monster.

As my former handler lay on the ground, frothing at the mouth and twitching, one of the fairies pointed a finger at me and said, «Ɗ٥ກ'Ե Ե٢ჸ Ե𐒅ລԵ ລՑລÍກ.»

I looked back at the baby monk that was slowly oozing into a mushy puddle of fairy fluid and nodded. No way was that happening to me, not if I could help it.

If I was going to escape, I couldn’t be caught. So I would have to spend more time here, looking in that dark space and learning to access my mana.

*☆*――*☆*――*☆*――*☆*――*☆*――*☆*――*☆*――*☆*

Three days later, I found success. I was finally, finally able to pull a green orb from that cube. If only I knew how to use it.

I couldn’t figure out a way to bring the green orb into the real world, away from the dark space. For now, I just practiced generating mana and taking it out of the cube. Ten squats, track the light, pull out the orb, repeat, and stop when my stamina gets too low.

This went on for two more days. The only progress I saw was an increase in Strength. It had been steadily increasing these past few days and I was up to Low (2). The only other Stat that increased was Endurance, which had gone from Low (2) to Low (3).

Eventually, I decided enough was enough. I wasn’t getting anywhere. The way this ‘experiment’ was going, it was gonna take me a month of Sundays to actually use this magic.

I sunk into my dark space and picked up a green orb. Instead of just playing around with it like I used to, I imagined it coming to the light, or at least, as light as it could be in the real world. I was gentle at first, little nudges here and there to push it closer to the edge. The orb resisted the coercing, attempting to fly to its cube. I kept a firm grip on it, however, and pulled back.

We went back and forth until I dug my metaphorical heels into the ground and yanked it out of the dark space.

I stopped doing my squats and stared at the little green orb lazily floating in front of my eyes.

“Well, I’ll be,” I whispered. “This’ll be the dohickey that gets me outta here, eh?”

Baring my fangs in a grin, I pulled another orb out of the cube and into the light, only to lose hold of the first orb. Unperturbed at the loss, I simply reached for another one. Once again, when I pulled out the second orb, I lost the one already out.

If you come across this story on Amazon, it's taken without permission from the author. Report it.

I growled low in my throat and released my hold over the orb. “What in the Sam Hill is wrong with these things?”

It looked like I couldn’t have more than one orb in the light at a time. Fine, then. I’d just have to work with one. I reached back into my dark space and saw I only had one orb left.

That’s just great.

Sighing, I got up and started my squats again.

*☆*――*☆*――*☆*――*☆*――*☆*――*☆*――*☆*――*☆*

It was a tricky business working out what to do with my magic. I didn’t know how the baby monks did it: they just chanted and light flew out of their fingers. I didn’t see them pull orbs into the light.

I considered waiting to see how they did do magic, but I tossed that idea out the window. Waiting any longer would not be beneficial in any way, shape or form.

Then I got it into my head that, instead of saying words out loud and making things happen, I’d spell out a word with the orb!

I didn’t quite know how I’d do that as the orb was mighty small; it wouldn’t be big enough to spell out a word. Maybe I could use something else...like an image or, well, an impression of one.

With that in mind, I formed the orb into the clearest image my mind could hold: two ice cubes melting in the light brown whiskey held in my mama’s crystal glass with the snowflake designs on it. I was fifteen when I had my first half-pint and I’d never forgotten it.

It burned when it went down, I remembered. I could barely hold it at the time, but when it hit my stomach, I was as proud as a peacock, that I knew. It made me so bold, I down another two in one sitting! My mama flew off her handle when she saw me and some ragamuffin I was smitten with sitting with her good bottle, but I didn’t regret it one moment.

I was startled from the memory when something went pop. The orb was nowhere to be seen, having been replaced by the same glass of whiskey I’d been thinking of.

Huzzah! You just learned how to use [Runes]! -(๑☆‿ ☆#)ᕗ

You have learned your first spell: [Rune: Foolhardy Whiskey]! ＼（＾▽＾）／

Interesting choice of first spells… (((;◔ᴗ◔;)))

Keep up the good work! (ﾉ≧∀≦)ﾉ

[Rune: Foolhardy Whiskey] huh? I guess my theory was half-way right. I needed an impression of an image and an emotion.

That got me thinking about the spells the late baby monk used to cast on me. They made me feel all fine and dandy, physically, at least. Could I do the same with my runes?

I imagined a piece of fried chicken I’d eaten once and how it made me feel: full of energy and love. I expressed the relief I’d felt when I took the first bite, knowing the passion that went into frying it and all. The orb changed with another pop and there was the same fried chicken breast I’d been thinking of.

I was gonna get out of here faster than I thought I would.