“Focus on channelling that feeling.” Asha instructed. She was stood behind me as I stretched out my arm with an open palm.

I had been at the Academy most of the day working on understanding magic and how to harness it. Asha seemed delighted to share with me her knowledge, especially when I told her to imagine I had no experience whatsoever.

Magic was a relatively simple concept: everyone in this world seemed to be attuned to it but a select group of people were naturally better at manipulating it.

Some scholars in this world claimed that anyone could achieve mastery with enough training and self-discipline. I wasn’t buying it.

I could feel that Kaida had a significant pool of mana to use. A terrifying amount of mana if I’m being honest; that was half the problem. It felt like swimming upstream against a strong current and no matter how hard I tried, there was no way to channel the energy of that current into the direction I was swimming.

It wasn’t a complete waste of time, after all I had managed to utilise some of the mana within me in the form of a small flame. It hurt a little when Asha explained that this was an elementary ability that most children could master by the time they were six or seven.

“Ah ha.” I cheered as a blue flame appeared in my outstretched hand. I had taken off my tunic and rolled back my sleeves to avoid any… accidents. The flame fluctuated in size from small to medium and seemed to flutter in a non-existent breeze.

“Alright,” Asha said as she leaned in, putting a hand on my upper arm and resting her chin on my shoulder.

“Now, keep the tempo steady.” She instructed.

“Steady, right. I’m trying.”

I focused on doing what she instructed, it was an internal battle of concentration. I attempted to siphon energy from the internal flow of mana whilst ensuring I didn’t take too much. The second problem I had been encountering is that although I had some mana I could utilise, it was like turning a tap which didn’t close.

As I stared at the flame dancing in my palm, I could feel the reservoir of mana inside me lapping against the dam I had constructed with my mind. Attempting to curtail the flow, I tightened, closing the tap slightly. There was resistance. A lot of resistance. The harder I tried to turn the harder it felt to fight and I could feel cracks forming in the dam.

My hand began to shake.

“Don’t fight it.” Asha whispered, “Let it flow, it is easier to manage when you can see it.”

“OK.” I gulped and did as she said. The dam in my mind cracked. The flame got larger.

“Good.”

The dam crumbled under the pressure. The flame got larger still.

“OK, now reign it in.”

Then the dam exploded, unleashing all of the pent-up mana that was raring to go. My arm burned as I felt the power soaring through my body and the flame erupted, filling the room with a glow before shooting off into a target dummy thirty metres in front of where we were stood.

Asha approached the crispy remnants of the dummy when the flame dissipated. Smoke rose from the wooden, human shaped target that was slowing down from an uncontrollable spin.

“That was unexpected.” She mused, leaning around the dummy and poking at it.

“I can’t control it.” I whispered.

“This is a good sign; you clearly have a lot of mana available. If we continue to practice, I’m sure you’ll get the hang of it. Let’s try again.”

I shook my head, “No, I’m sorry Asha, I think I’ve had enough for today.”

“But right now, your lack of control is dangerous. Without more practice there could be issues.” She wagged her finger as if scolding me.

“I know, but—”

“You can’t always rely on curses. They have a cost that must be paid.” She droned.

I held up my hand, “Asha, I am done. I appreciate your efforts, but I have things to do.”

She nodded, “Of course, master. My apologies.”

“Asha,” I dragged out the vowels.

“Sorry! I mean Kai.”

“Better.” I smiled.

I followed Asha as she turned away from the crispy dummy and walked towards a table where several books had been scattered. I caught glimpses of the text in some of the pages, but it just looked like gibberish.

She dug around for the book she was looking for, “ah ha. Here it is.”

I waited as she read silently from the book, following with her finger. I was about to break the silence when she spoke up again without moving her eyes from the pages.

“I have an idea.” She said, closing the book with dramatic effect.

“Hold out your hand like before.” Asha commanded.

I did as she asked.

“Now summon the flame.”

Channelling the mana again I summoned a small fire to my open palm.

“OK, now extinguish the flame.”

I clapped my hands together putting out the flame.

“Not like that, pull back the mana. Take it from the fire. Do what you did to summon it but in reverse.”

I resummoned the flame and tried doing what she suggested. It was a strange sensation feeling the mana coming back. It felt like a cold liquid was pumping through my forearm and climbing towards my shoulder.

The flame began to shrink in size before wilting to nothing.

“Nice.” I said, rather pleased with myself.

“OK, now do it again.” She ordered.

I repeated the process.

“Good. For now, you should practice this. It is like muscle memory, the more you do this,” She outstretched her palm and summoned a purple flame before extinguishing it, “the easier it will become to control.”

“Good Asha. I will practice this.” I said, patting her on the head.

“So, how did I do? Do you have any suggestions?” Asha asked.

“Suggestions?”

“Yeah. It was fun to play teacher for a change. I know you already know all this stuff, but I was trying to be creative. I doubt we will have any students who can’t control their mana flow at the academy, but it is challenging to pretend. Is there anywhere I can improve?”

“Well.” I held my hand to my chin. I wasn’t expecting her to call me out, but it made sense. How would I not know how to use magic, she must have thought I was teaching her, especially after the events of a few days ago.

Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

“How do you think you could improve, Asha?”

She looked at me blankly.

“Uh. I think that maybe students will have different capabilities and it is important to know them before a lesson.”

I nodded, “And?” Hoping there was more.

“And… I should probably compile a record of the students’ abilities that I can reference.” She held up a book, “If I make notes in here then I will be able to cater the tuition to each students needs and track their progress.” She rushed the last part, clearly excited that she had made progress.

“Excellent,” I said with relief. “You will make a fine tutor.”

Asha jumped forward giving me a hug, “You are too kind, master.” She released me from her clutches and stepped back blushing, “I, err, mean Kai.”

“Good, then we are done for the day.” I said, reaching for my tunic and placing it on in what I thought was a cool way.

“I still have some theoretical work to complete for master Domus.” She said, reaching for her bag and placing it on her back.

“Will I meet you at the castle later?” She asked.

“No, I will be taking residence in the academy. The castle is creepy.” I said, shuddering.

“So, we can have dinner together?” She said chuckling.

“I don’t see why not. But first I promised to meet with Torg and discuss some urgent matters.” Which was a half-truth. I had arranged to meet Torg on the pretence of discussing urgent matters, but really, I just wanted an excuse to visit a tavern and hear those songs they were apparently singing about me.

“I will see you later then.” She bowed and shuttled off.

I waved goodbye to Asha and made my way out of the academy.

It was a stark contrast to the castle. Where the castle was dark and dimly lit, the academy was bright and inviting. It had clearly been made to put the students, who were probably living away from home for the first time, at ease. The walls of the castle where imposing dark stone, the walls of the academy where light, almost white bricks.

Most importantly, there were a ridiculous number of guards roaming around the castle which made it difficult to formulate an escape without being seen unless I learned to fly. Which, in this world, probably wasn’t impossible.

***

My walk through the city towards the tavern was pleasant enough. Over the previous few days, I had tried to familiarise myself with the lay of the land, the local delicacies and most importantly, the nearest exits.

Asha had been great, showing me around with enthusiasm and introducing me to all kinds of strange new foods.

Torg was a little more reserved. Honestly, I think he found it a rather annoying to give me a guided tour, but he did just as I asked and was surprisingly knowledgeable about the best taverns to visit within the city.

I headed towards one of his recommended taverns, ‘The Dirty Grey Dog’. It apparently had one of the best meads in the city and a good collection of pies.

I took Asha’s advice and continued to practice summoning and dismissing the fireball as I walked. Repeating the process over and over. It started to become a little easier to summon the initial ball, but it was mentally draining. The more I did it, the harder it was to extinguish the flames.

As I began to tire, I found it easier to simply drop the flame on the ground where it would fade out by itself.

When the tavern came into view across the road, I decided to toss a few more fireballs and then leave it for the day. I’d done enough for now.

As I walked into the tavern the smell of cooking vegetables and tobacco hit me hard. I was never a smoking man but there was something enticing about the smell of the smoke coming from the many wooden tables around the room.

The floor was cobbled and unsteady. To my left there was a giant stone hearth that crackled as the low fire burned. There was a nice atmosphere in there, the sound of laughter and idle chatter filled my ears.

I looked around for Torg, along the walls wooden slats had been nailed with various pieces of questionable art. There were a few animal heads sticking from the wall, a deer, a bear and something that looked like a horse.

A staircase to my right led up to what I assumed was cheap accommodation for weary travellers. In the centre of the main room there was a bar, with large, stacked barrels filling the space behind it.

In front of the barrels a tall, bald man was wiping the bar with a dirty cloth and his own phlegm. He had an angry looking scar over his left eye and was sporting a short beard. He wore an apron similar to that of a butcher but much, much dirtier.

“What can I get ya?” He greeted me without looking up.

“I hear your mead is good here.” I said.

The barman grunted, pulling out a leather vassal from beneath the bar and turning to fill it. He dropped the tankard in front of me and the amber liquid splashed about, tipping over the edge.

“Three copper.” He moaned.

I looked through my purse at the collection of coins that Asha had given me, finding three brown coins and placing them on the bar.

The barman scooped them with his large hand and slid them into his apron pocket before going back to his work.

I took a stool at the bar and sipped at the mead. It was an interesting drink; it had a sweet flavour followed by a smokiness at the back of the throat. It felt a little like a syrup rather than a traditional beer and after a few gulps I’d begun to take a liking to it.

I was onto my third tankard of mead by the time Torg made an appearance. He walked up behind me and tapped me on the shoulder before taking a seat on another stool.

“A mead for my friend Franky boy.” I slurred and threw a silver coin onto the bar. The mild buzz must have made me feel generous.

Torg grabbed the barman’s hand as he reached for the coin and held out his own three coppers.

“I’ve got this.” He smiled.

The barman released the silver coin and Torg picked it up before slotting it into one of my side pockets.

“You seem to be enjoying yourself. Are you enjoying my local?” Torg said before taking a gulp of mead.

“It’s good stuff. Cheers.” I replied, slapping my tankard against his, splashing some of that sweet nectar.

“Cheers.” He chuckled.

“Do you live near here?” I asked.

He pointed up, “I have a room here.”

We had been chatting for a few minutes when two men rushed through the tavern door covered in soot. They hurried towards the bar.

“Two drinks.” One of the men asked.

“What’s going on?” The barman asked. Apparently recognising the man.

“Fires. Fires across the city.” The man took a large gulp, spilling most of it down his chin.

“It looks like sabotage. These damn goblins are getting clever they set fire to the orphanage across the road,” the other man added before accepting his drink, “thanks.”

“We should go. It may be an attack.” Torg said, standing up quickly.

He helped me to my feet and suggested I slung an arm over his shoulder. I accepted his offer of aid and we moved towards the entrance.

“Oi.” A large ginger man blocked the entrance with crossed arms.

He had a red pock marked face, and curly ginger hair. He wore a hideous padded woollen tunic with yellow and black squares. Two other men stood behind him wearing the same outfit.

“Not now!” Torg ordered, urging the man to move aside.

“We have unfinished business, pretty boy,” One of the men from the back sneered and then punched his open palm.

“I’ll,” I hiccupped, “handle this.” I said, stepping forward.

Torg put a hand to my chest, “please my Lord. These vagabonds are not worth your time.”

“Hiding behind your Lord?” The ginger man bellowed.

There was a nervous laughter from around the room.

“I wouldn’t dream of hurting a Lord.” He continued, giving me a sarcastic bow.

“It’s OK. It’s OK. Tonight, I am not a Lord. I am just Kai. OK? Call me Kai. You four gentlemen can call me Kai. Actually, everyone here. You can call me Kai, OK? You don’t need to bother with that bowing nonsense.” I proclaimed in a fine act of unambiguous diplomacy.

“If you insist?” The ginger man laughed.

“Yerp,” I slurred.

With that, the large ginger man drew back his arm and threw his ridiculously large fist at me.

Much to my surprise, before Torg could react I instinctively held out my palm, catching his fist with ease. We both looked at it with confusion, then our eyes met.

“He shouldn’t have done that.”

“You shouldn’t have done, hic, that.” I agreed.

“Uh?” The ginger man moaned.

Dust and wooden splinters flew across the room from behind me as an astonishing amount of force surged through my body and out from my hand, catapulting the ginger man and his accomplices out of the tavern.

When I say out of the tavern, that is an understatement. The force was so powerful that it ripped the front of the tavern apart, destroying most of the wall.

Debris in the form of supporting beams and stones continued to fall from the damaged wall as I stared through the dust and across the road where the three men had landed in a carriage full of sacks. Behind them a building with the sign ‘Light Hope Orphanage’ was in flames. A group of men were throwing buckets of water onto the building with little success.

The trio landing on the sacks startled the two mules attached to the causing them to accelerate and knocking off their driver. As the carriage raced off without its driver, it veered across the road uncontrollably, causing a group of children and maids to scream and jump aside.

The carriage knocked over a street gas lamp on its way, which in turn fell onto a pile of planks and other building material that had been stacked on an empty plot. The impact of the lamp post caused a plank to flip up like a seesaw, sending a bag of stones flying towards what I assumed was a large wooden tower next to the burning orphanage.

The stones didn’t seem to cause any damage to the tower on impact. But moments later there was a horrific creaking sound and then the tower tipped towards the orphanage.

It stopped at an awkward angle just before reaching the roof of the burning orphanage. Then a massive tide of water escaped from the tower onto the orphanage causing a loud fizz sound.

As it turns out, the tower was a water butt that were placed across the city to collect rainwater. It had fallen onto the orphanage and extinguished the flames in an instant.

Dirty, ashen water lapped across the cobbled street and into the entrance of the tavern in silence. Nobody made a sound. The silence was broken when another plank from the supporting wall of the tavern fell with a thud.

The crowd in the tavern erupted in boisterous cheer.

“Lord Kai saved the orphanage.” They called.

“Amazing.” Another shouted.

“He’s a hero.” Came another.

Across the street, the men with buckets who were now drenched looked across in amazement.

Two women were rushing amazed children across the front of the tavern to safety on the other side.

“Wait until the King hears of this,” Torg patted my back and laughed, “he’ll probably give you another title.”

The bartender staggered slowly to where the entrance used to be and fell to his knees, sobbing.

“My tavern.” He cried.

Then as if by some cruel joke, a sign that said ‘The Dirty Dog’ fell with a splash.