Ch 35
Once again, I found myself sitting on the floor and focusing on my breathing. Moving it in and out in the specific patterns that Grelf had shown me. In and held and slowly out, over and over as I felt the energy well up in me as before from my lungs. Observing that I was able to easily gather energy on my own Grelf said “Good, at least you haven’t forgotten that much,” before once again placing his hands over my temples.
I felt his energy wash into me. It was just as strange and foreign as before. It poured into me in a flood, I had thought my own ability to gather energy had become quite good but now I realized that it was just a trickle before the amount of the man channeling energy through me and I had simply been unable to understand it’s depths before in my uninitiated state.
As his energy passed through my body I paid attention to how it flowed, this spell, unlike the healing spell which pooled and flowed in different parts of my body seemed to evenly distribute throughout all of it and simply condense itself into the skin and flesh. I kept sharp focus, not wanting to miss anything but after a few moments Grelf withdrew his hands and I was left to draw in energy with my breathing and then focus it into my body in order to maintain the spell and study how it worked within my body.
I heard Grelf step away and then the scrape of a chair as he presumably sat down but I could see none of this. I had my eyes closed tight, focusing on supplying a continual amount of energy into the spell so that I could see how it would affect my body. After some considerable time had passed, I was able to see that it worked by reinforcing the skin and muscles in my body with a series of invisible fibers that reinforced the structure of my body.
Once I had used the spell until I was certain that it was in full effect I cut off power to it and began focusing on my healing spell, I had performed some healing before going to Gikats but I still had much to go and there was no real reason to waste time while waiting to see how long the effects of the toughening spell would last. Doubtless with practice I would eventually be able to bring it to full effect faster instead of needing the hour or two it took me the first time.
More time passed while I focused on healing magick and passively focused on the effects of the toughening spell. It seemed to take four hours to completely dissipate, depleting its usefulness in stages of roughly twenty five percent every hour until ending suddenly as the last of the energy is used up. Not as long as the effects of the healing spell but it followed a similar pattern of degradation. I stood up with a groan, satisfied with today’s lesson and eager to find my dinner and continue healing. I would still need to fight tomorrow, and I needed to be in tiptop shape.
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I went back to the resting room and found the goblin distributing bread, cheese, and water and took my portion before sitting on my cot to eat and then laying back and beginning to work some more on healing. I still had a couple hours left until it was time to sleep and that was enough to get in a couple days of healing in, between that and the hours the spell would be in effect while I slept I should be fully healed by morning.
*****
The next morning when I awoke to the usual goblins yelling that it was time to awaken, I looked down to my thigh to see the injury from the previous fight. All that was left was a thin pink line. I stood up and stretched it a bit to see if it was going to cause me any discomfort, it was a little tight but not bad overall. I went to collect my breakfast and then went to the waiting room to await my fight. It would not be until after all of the new entry fights so I would have some time.
While I was sitting on the floor meditating to use my new toughness spell in preparation of the upcoming fight, I heard some mutters from the fighters around me saying things like “what the Hell?” and “What is he doing here? I never saw him leave his room!” and so I opened my eyes to see what was causing such a disturbance. There by the entrance to the waiting room and arguing with the orc guard stationed there was Gikats.
I quickly got to my feet and went to see what was going on, pushing through those that had gathered around to see what was going on. I got a couple of dirty looks as I pushed through the gladiators, but none wanted to fight someone right before their match and risk getting injured. When I reached Gikats he seemed quite upset about something.
“What is going on Gikats?” I called out to him. He turned to look at me and then gave me a pitying look. “I am sorry to tell you this Dung but today may be your last match. The opponent you are going up against is a two-hundred-year-old wood elf who fights with a quarterstaff. He was sentenced to slavery after being caught smuggling drugs and was placed in the arena. Since then he has killed everyone who went against him no matter how their masters begged for mercy.”
With that Gikats turned and ran out of the room. I wondered what he had been arguing with the orc guard about but there was no way for me to find out now. I went back to my spot and focused anew on my toughening spell. Daggers were no match for the reach of a quarterstaff, I was going to need every advantage I could get if I wanted to avoid leaving my brains on the dirt when my turn came today.
As I focused on the spell I brought it up to its maximum efficiency, It only took half of the time as yesterday now that I knew what I was aiming for instead of just watching it idly to see where it was going to go. Afterwards I had some considerable time until my match started so I kept my focus on the spell, drawing in energy and keeping it at full. I was going to be absolutely sure I went in with a full defense and walked out of this next fight alive.
This life had been pretty bad but by whatever other powers there might be out there I needed to live long enough to get stronger. In a world with magick it might be possible to get strong enough to one day have a happy life, even if right now I am a slave in a gladiatorial arena about to fight a two-hundred-year-old wood elf with a bad attitude and a big stick.