My mana moved before I even told it to. A reflex. A thought. A twitch of my fingers, and the energy was already there, waiting. As I sat in a meditative pose, I could tell the changes from the tea were complete. My pathways hadn’t expanded any further, but experimenting with them opened up a lot of possibilities.

Opening my eyes, I focused on Bravery, burning bright in that in-between space where it seemed to exist. I rotated my mana away from it, and instantly, the sigil faded. The world seemed to lurch briefly without its effects. Rotating energy back to it reignited the sigil, sparking back to life. It felt permanent, always there unless I concentrated hard on dropping it. Even then, it would reappear moments later, ready for me to infuse it again.

I looked down at my hand, separating Radiance from the sigil and pushing Light into my palm. My hand lit up as if a flashlight shone through it, glowing with a faint pinkish red.

Frowning, I turned my hand over, inspecting the trapped glow beneath my skin. With a sigh, I released the rune, and my hand returned to normal.

“You’ll need a mudra if you’re trying to manifest magic,” came a voice from behind me.

I turned to see Malcolm walking up the stairs, looking particularly worse for wear. His armor was scuffed and battered, and he cradled his arm under the elbow.

“Oh shit, are you okay?” I asked, standing up and rushing over to him.

He laughed, though it was strained. “I’ll live. The Grace trial is no joke. I managed to pass it, but only barely. Dorian should be done with his trial soon, and he’s been studying a healing rune.”

“I actually know one too,” I said, hesitating. “But I haven’t really used it… that way.”

Malcolm arched an eyebrow. “What do you mean you know a healing rune but haven’t used it?”

“It’s… hard to explain.” I wasn’t in the mood to dive into the whole magic is what you make it conversation again. But Chas’s question from earlier echoed in my mind.

I wasn’t entirely sure what Radiance could do beyond making my hand glow like a flashlight, but… what if I paired it with Compassion?

Sliding Compassion into the sigil alongside Radiance, I studied it carefully in my mind’s eye. The meaning roared at me, more direct and visceral than any rune I’d bound so far.

A parent shielding their child. A soldier dragging his wounded comrade to safety, unyielding despite the pain.

Devotion.

Shout your loyalty to the heavens. Prove your willingness to protect those who matter.

I inhaled sharply as the rune bound itself to me. A wave of teal energy radiated outward, similar to Bravery’s aura but smaller, denser. The air shimmered with heat waves, and my mana pathways burned brightly under the strain. If not for my newly enhanced regeneration, I’d be tapped dry in minutes. It wasn’t on Valor’s level, but the sheer cost of maintaining the aura was staggering.

I turned to Malcolm, his eyes wide as cuts and bruises on his face began to visibly fade. I could feel them fading.

Bravery made me aware of anything focused on me. Devotion, though, let me sense what needed fixing. Malcolm’s wrecked body was lighting up like a problem demanding a solution.

“What the…” Malcolm began, flexing his arm as I watched the bone set itself. “It’s like I’ve taken a healing pill.”

Satisfied that most of the issues had been fixed, I released Devotion and immediately dropped to my knees, sweat pouring down my face. My heart pounded, and my skin burned as though I’d been sunburned everywhere. The sensation faded quickly, but it left me shaky.

I realized I’d been holding my breath and forced myself to exhale. Malcolm stepped forward and helped me to my feet.

“Gaia’s tits, Ben. That was... I’ve never seen healing that potent before. And without physical contact or a mudra?”

“Ow,” I replied simply, shaking my head. Red rushed up and leaned into my legs, circling me like he was bracing to catch me if I fell. “I’m good. That was just the first time I’ve thought to use it like that.”

I made my way back to the pool, scooped up some of the cool water, and drank deeply. It felt like my throat had been lined with sandpaper.

“You really are on a whole different level than us initiates,” Malcolm said after a brief pause. “I thought it was just the Truth Sight you used on me in Cyrus’s shop, but… I think I get it now.”

I glanced at him, mid-sip. “Truth Sight?”

Malcolm looked at me with that bewildered look again. “Just before you apologized for taking the meditation room you had a strong form of Truth Sight in your eyes. I could feel you sizing me up. It was… potent.”

I blinked. Truth Sight? All I’d done was focus on him with Bravery. “Wait—did my eyes do that weird swirling thing?”

“Yes. How could you not know?”

“Awesome!” I did a little fist pump, realization dawning. “No wonder you looked so freaked out. I’m sorry about that! I honestly didn’t know that’s what I was doing, but… I guess it makes sense now.” I couldn’t help but laugh, as the lingering exhaustion faded.

Malcolm just shook his head. “You’d make a good Arcanist.”

I laughed. “Felix said that too. But I’m told I’m more of a Guardian. I guess it tracks.”

He nodded thoughtfully. “The more I’m learning about you, the more accurate that seems. Here.”

He raised his hands as if praying, then separated his index, middle, and ring fingers while keeping his thumbs and pinkies touching. The gesture looked like a blooming flower. He held it like it was second nature—something he had practiced countless times.

“Arcanists learn as many mudra as we can. Each one is a unique way to manifest magic physically. This Lotus mudra is one of the simpler ones, but it’s still effective for directing energy outward. Try channeling your light spell into your palms while keeping this pose. It takes practice, but you should be able to project the magic outward.”

I mimicked his hands, forming the mudra. It wasn’t the most comfortable position for my fingers, but it wasn’t terrible either. I could feel the mana flowing through where my hands and figured were touching but I couldn’t really figure out how to use it.

“Like this?” I asked.

“Yeah, just make sure the heels of your hands and those two fingers are touching. Some Masters can modify mudra or even use one hand, but until you’ve practiced enough, keep the pose steady.”

“Malcolm!” Dorian’s voice cut through our conversation like a whip. We turned to see him standing at the top of the stairs, his expression a mix of disapproval and annoyance. “There’s no point cozying up to someone who won’t be here in a week. Let’s go. Darryl just finished his training.”

Malcolm sighed, a resigned look on his face. “It was nice talking with you, Ben. And thanks for the healing.”

“Thanks for the mudra lesson,” I said, grinning as he turned to leave.

Once he was gone, I sat back down at the pool and pet Red.

“I think we like Malcolm.” I said and he huffed at me as if I was stating the obvious.

I produced the Lotus mudra and practiced pushing light into both palms. I could feel mana pooling in my hands, energy looping through my connected fingers, but all that happened was my palms glowing the fleshy red and pink flashlight color.

As I practiced, several chimes of completed trials rang in the distance, four in total. All the while I had only managed to cramp up my hands.

Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

I was about to try again when the sound of a loud gong rang out, snapping my head toward the stairs. Instinctively, I ignited Bravery, and Red and I were instantly on our feet, rushing down the steps. The initiates who had been lingering earlier were now gathered around one of the larger structures, murmuring amongst themselves.

“What’s happening?” I asked, skidding to a stop near the group.

“Lady Cassandra seems to have solved the Grace trial,” said a Floran I recognized—Michael, from earlier.

I blinked, staring at the entrance to the trial as the door slid open. Cass stood triumphantly in the doorway, a vivid green aura surrounding her. The energy surrounded her like a second skin, darker and more controlled than Doreen’s wild green glow. Gasps rippled through the crowd at the sight of her power. Her armor, however, told a different story—completely shredded, with blood dripping from several cuts. She stumbled forward, shaky but defiant.

“Fuck yeah,” she said with a lopsided grin, taking a single, unsteady step. Her eyes rolled back, the aura winked out, and she crumpled forward like a puppet with its strings cut, face-planting onto the ground.

“She’s completely out of mana,” Dara’s voice said calmly from right beside me, and I nearly jumped out of my skin.

“Fuck sakes,” I gasped, clutching my chest. “I can see why Diana finds that so irritating.”

“You’re becoming a thorn in my side, Ben Crawford,” Dara continued, her tone dry. “That one claims you gave her advice on the nature of magic that led to this situation. Two trials solved in a single day is unprecedented.”

“Maybe you need to make them more difficult?” The words were out of my mouth before I could stop them. I winced. “That was stupid to say, wasn’t it?”

Dara’s elven features twisted into a mischievous smirk and she stared at me with an uncomfortable intensity. “Oh. It was. This will not happen again, rest assured.”

Ignoring the heat creeping up my neck, I walked over to Cass. Most of her injuries looked superficial, but the way her shoulder sat told me her collarbone was broken. Her ankle didn’t look great either. Bracing myself, I bound Devotion for the second time, feeling the rush of mana as the teal aura radiated out from me and over her.

This time, though, I felt a difference. The mana drain was still overwhelming but the energy seemed naturally drawn to Cass instead of being forced over Malcolm. The broken bone in her collarbone shifted and set, her ankle following suit. Even the smaller cuts knitted themselves back together as the aura worked its magic. It was almost automatic—Devotion drawing my attention to the worst injuries first, like it was guiding me.

When I released the spell, I stepped back, half-expecting to feel the crushing exhaustion again. But nothing. No dizziness. No burning skin. Just… calm. I could feel Devotion’s power fade with a calm resolve that I had helped someone dear to me.

Was the kickback lessened depending on how much I cared about someone?

I glanced around to find everyone staring at me, their expressions ranging from shock to something uncomfortably close to reverence. Even Dorian and Darryl looked stunned.

I let out an awkward chuckle. “Sorry, folks. Usually, I’m the one passing out from mana exhaustion. Can someone help me get her up the stairs?”

Michael rushed to my side, and together we got under Cass’s arms, lifting her up between us. She was taller than both of us, making it a struggle to carry her without dragging her feet. Red trailed behind, his ears pricked forward in what almost looked like concern.

When we reached the pavilion, Michael simply nodded and headed back down the stairs toward the trial area, leaving Cass and me alone. Red sniffed at what remained of her wounds, his nose brushing her armor.

A quick check of my mana reserves revealed the second binding of Devotion had nearly wiped me out. If I’d held it any longer, I would’ve been lying next to her on the ground. Thankfully, the Titan’s Root tea was working wonders—my regeneration rate was at least three times faster than before.

“You’ll want to get her armor off,” said Dara’s voice from behind me, startling me again. This time, though, I barely flinched.

“Here’s probably not the best place for that,” I replied. “She’d murder me if she woke up mid-removal. Not sure I can carry her back to the Tower, but I can try. Do I need armor to use the portal in reverse?”

Dara shook her head. “No, and I’ll arrange for it to open closer to the Tower.”

Nodding, I shifted Cass onto my shoulders in a fireman’s carry, forcing as much mana as I could muster into my legs and back. To my surprise, it worked better than expected—her weight felt far more manageable, thanks to the new pathways unlocked by the tea. Still, she was dead weight, and every step required focus.

“Hey, Dara?” I asked without turning around. “How is it that Red could use the portal without armor?”

No answer came. I glanced back and found the spot empty, except for Red. He let out a low huff, and I swear he rolled his eyes as he caught up to me.

“Well, it was worth a shot,” I muttered. Adjusting Cass on my shoulders, I stepped through the portal.

It felt different this time. No static, no discomfort—just a seamless shift, like stepping through a doorway. One moment I was in the Trial Grounds, and the next, I was standing in a great marble courtyard in front of the Tower. Either the portal was different in this direction, or something had changed.

Dara had managed to drop me as close as possible without walking me straight into the building. I’d have to thank her when I returned.

Carrying Cass up the stairs proved to be more of a workout than I expected, but it wasn’t unbearable. As I approached the Front Desk, the Vildar stationed there scrambled to their feet.

“What happened?” one of them asked.

“Mana exhaustion,” I said, waving him off. “I’m taking her back to her room on the seventh floor. Any idea if Chas Blackwood or Erik Winters is around?”

They exchanged glances before one spoke up. “Adept Ironheart came back through about an hour ago. He might still be in the Tower.”

I nodded and moved past them into the Atrium, channeling mana into the bracelet Gary had given me. Before I could even brace myself, the scenery shifted abruptly, and I found myself in a busy hallway on the seventh floor, Cass still slung over my shoulders.

“Whoa!” I exclaimed, nearly dropping her. “At least put a wind-up time on this thing, Gary. Shit.” I muttered, half to myself. Red was still in the Atrium, but I had no doubt he’d find his way here. He just seemed to know where to go in the Tower.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Gary said behind me, and I nearly jumped out of my skin again.

“Holy shit! What is with people appearing behind me today?” I said, turning toward him. “Is this Cass’s room?”

Gary stepped past me and opened the door. “It is. I’ve sent for her brother—he’s on his way.”

“Thanks, Gary.” I walked inside. “Hey, any chance you can find me something to write with? And maybe some paper?”

Gary narrowed his eyes at me like I’d asked for something strange. “I’ll have someone bring you what you need.”

Cass’s room was a lot nicer than mine, though I didn’t mind. The room I’d had at Doreen’s was the complete opposite of my room in the Tower, and I longed for something that struck a balance between the two.

“Is that everything?” Gary asked, still standing in the doorway.

“Yeah, thanks,” I said, glancing back at him.

He gave a short nod and closed the door as I carefully laid Cass down on her bed. It was awkward, but I managed without dropping her.

Only a few minutes passed before the door opened again, revealing Erik in his basic linen clothes. His expression was calm but concerned.

“Is she alright?” he asked immediately.

“Oh yeah, she’s fine,” I said with a grin. “Solved the Grace trial and apparently used a Seal candidate doing it. She did a pretty good impression of me today.”

Erik’s lips turned up into a genuine smile. “A Seal? That was fast. And the trial? Tell me everything. We’ll need to get her out of the armor.”

“Hold on,” I said, holding up a hand. “I have an idea I think you’re going to like, but I need a favor.”

His gaze turned curious, though his brows knitted slightly. “Go on.”

“I’ve heard you’ve got a knack for growing things. Would you happen to have anything that can go in decorative pots or containers? The more, the better—especially flowers.”

His eyes narrowed, much like Gary’s did when I asked for paper earlier, but after a moment he nodded.

“I promise you’re going to like it,” I said quickly, holding up my hands in mock surrender. “We’re just going to spruce up her room a little.”

“Alright,” he said, still watching me with a skeptical expression. “I’ll be back.”

As Erik left, a Hunter arrived with several thick leaflets of paper and something that could generously be called a pencil. I thanked him and sat down at the desk in Cass’s room, jotting down journal entries—quick and precise. My hand worked almost on autopilot, the ideas flowing easily onto the page.

It wasn’t long before Erik returned, and my jaw practically dropped as he produced a dozen different arrangements from his mana sanctum. Shrubberies, flower bushes, even small trees. Some were obnoxiously large, there had to be a size limit to these earrings, right?

“Holy… How much stuff do you have in there?” I asked as he started placing the plants around the room.

He didn’t answer, but his stoic expression cracked slightly when he caught sight of what I was writing. A faint grin tugged at the corner of his mouth. “Oh, good idea.”

Erik moved to work on Cass, removing her battered armor and dressing her in some basic clothes. Meanwhile, I hung the damaged pieces of armor over some of the plant life, letting them dangle like ornaments. It wasn’t long before the room began to look less like a plain dorm and more like something out of a fairy tale.

Once we were done, Erik and I sat down, and I recapped the day for him. He seemed genuinely thrilled by how quickly Cass and I were advancing, his usual calm exterior cracking into a wide grin.

“Ben, this is outstanding,” he said. “I thought maybe she wouldn’t let you push her, but she did it. She finally accepted some help and took her first step forward in ages. Thank you, really.”

I waved him off. “Oh, c’mon, Erik. She’s my friend—it’s the least I can do. Especially if I don’t cut it in the tournament and get tossed off Ark.”

“If you can solve a trial, I have a feeling you’ll be fine,” he replied, just as Cass stirred. I motioned for Erik to keep quiet.

“Ugh, someone find what kicked me in the head so I can return the favor,” she groaned, sitting up stiffly. I was about to stand, but Erik beat me to it.

“Graceful Gods, Cass—it’s good to hear your voice,” he said.

“What?” Cass froze, her eyes darting around the room, finally noticing that everything was completely different.

“Cass, you’ve been out for weeks. The tournament is over, and everyone’s left,” I said solemnly, stepping next to Erik and handing her the papers I’d been writing.

She took them with a confused expression, her eyes scanning the pages quickly:

Day 1. Continued Training, no change to Cass.

Day 2. Concerned, spoke with Diana. Training.

...

Day 7. Tournament concluded, won boat, too easy. Still no change in Cass.

Her brow furrowed as she read, a flicker of panic flashing across her face. Her gaze darted between the pages and us. Then, her expression shifted—from hurried panic to resignation, and finally to something cold.

A subtle shift in the air was my only warning before a sharp, searing pain erupted in my groin. Beside me, Erik doubled over, clutching at himself as we both hit the floor in unison.

Cass leaned down between us, her voice low and venomous. “Grand Tournaments take longer than a day, you pricks.”

Erik and I groaned in unison, writhing on the floor as she straightened up, a triumphant smirk plastered across her face. She looked around the room, seeming to really notice the plants fully.

“And I’m keeping the plants.”