People tell you prison is a state of mind. Yeah, sure. Trying being in prison for forty years and see how free you feel. Better to just curse the jailers to the frozen hell and take what you can get.

=Prisoner at Hensa Tower, anonymous

I had started on the list overnight.

I tried the first idea on the list, and instantly wanted to start cursing. I actually could split my attention. So much wasted time. Only been a few weeks though, imagine learning this after being here for years or something. I had less functionally than I had hope for, but unlimited was a pretty high bar. It was much better than the nothing I feared. I could only focus on a few things simultaneously. Ha, only, and a dozen isn’t bad at all. Focus was too pale a word, too. I wasn’t simply multitasking, each copy had the full ability to think and act. Mmm, copy is the wrong word too. No way to tell the original, or if there even is, an original. If I could have done this as a human I would have been an unmatched genius, at least in some ways.

Would have been amazing for Smash Bros, could have focused on everything at once.

At some point, this ability would probably increase drastically, at least if it was supposed to manage a dungeon properly. It would need more capability. Goes up with level maybe? I might gain a related skill from leveling, too .

Splitting myself into different parts was difficult to describe, I lacked the proper words. Any given me was aware of what the rest were doing, but it was like background noise. I was simply focusing on one thing as far as an individual perspective was concerned. And yet, calling it background noise implied a level of detachment or unawareness, which was completely the opposite of how it actually worked. I was simultaneously completely aware of everything the others were doing, and yet not paying it any attention.

Ugh, not surprising English is lacking the proper word. Not really a human experience. Best to focus on what I can do with it instead, plus the other ideas.

Splitting my mind wasn’t my only success. Diverting some of the constant mana stream that flowed into me was fairly easy, and I was able to expand my aura slowly. It was not much yet, since I was only able to use a tiny part of it. However, any usable mana was great. That tiny flow of mana was all gain, considering it would have been lost.

Breaking down pieces of the enchantments showed no progress, but I had been able to move some of the threads floating through my aura, catching them on hooks momentarily. Not useful yet, but progress was progress. If I could learn to do it consistently, I could prevent a part of the room from being analyzed, presumably, and then grow or manipulate stone.

The aura hooks could bury themselves in solid stone, too. There was no sign it actually did anything though. Attempts to weaken, strengthen, or move so much as a particle of stone dust had failed so far. Simply embedding my hooks in something physical was a good sign.

The greatest success by far, however, came when I started moving the mana in the air. Compared to what I had already been doing, trying to hold mana in place, moving loose currents of mana through the room was fairly trivial. Shortly after, I received a tangible acknowledgment of my achievement.

You have gained a new skill!

Ambient Mana Manipulation I

You can manipulate, and make use, of the ambient mana within your aura.

You have been awarded a new title!

Mana Specialist I

You have acquired multiple skills dealing directly with mana. Your skills with mana have passed beyond the realm of the novice. Now go and get even better.

+50 Ability Points

+ All skills directly dealing with mana are slightly more powerful (5% boost)

A quick glance at my status showed my mana generation now at twenty one per day. Exactly five percent, wonder what it would do with an uneven multiple? Not a huge increase now, but it could be very powerful later on. When I can actually save it. Plus, the title had the numeral for one in it, which probably meant it could be improved.

Moving mana was much easier now. I had, once again, been focused on just one area of a skill, and this time it had done me a disservice. Guessing I skipped a step. Keeping it still is meant as an advanced application. As the skill said, it was for moving mana around in general, and not the specific task I had been using it for. Oh well, it wasn’t like I had someone to guide me through this. Where is my tutorial level? I had way to know what would create a new skill. I was just guessing. Regardless, now that I had it, the skill let me hold a small area of mana completely still, even in midair. I could even swirl mana around the outside of the area and leave the interior untouched. Trying to move the interior mana quickly destabilized everything.

Even if I had been slightly inefficient in acquiring it, but there was a reason I focused on holding mana still; I now had one of the key elements needed to escape.

The largest obstacle to my escape was a lack of mana. Tam had made sure to prevent my from holding it from the beginning. My ability to store mana internally had been taken away, so I would just have to do it externally.

I moved currents of mana toward my empty practice sphere. The mana gathered together naturally, tending to flow in streams. Through the rest of the night I kept up the flow, and by morning, the density inside was substantially higher than baseline. It still wasn’t much, less than even the smallest spell I had seen Tam cast. Still, it worked as a proof of concept. Mana was held firmly, outside of myself.

I kept grinning to myself, pulling at mental strings with no puppet. I had been a core long enough to reflexively ignore the strange sensation of nonexistent muscles.

Tam came in and perked up at the feeling of mana swirling through the room more forcefully. I didn’t bother to hide my new abilities at all. He noticed the last one, even with no visible sign, so he definitely learned when I get a new skill. Learning to manipulate ambient mana was also completely sensible in my current situation. Mana was what I did, and since I had practically none of my own, it was not really a surprise that I had learned to manipulate other mana instead.

Tam smiled to himself and hummed a little when he cast the usual analysis spell. I was a little happy myself when he finally turned the feeder back on without making any new changes.

With the feeder on, I practiced my new and improved itinerary. I changed the area I absorbed to different shapes, moved mana around, and stored mana away. It was easy to let mana pour out of my core, flowing naturally until it released elsewhere. Attempts to hold mana in place, within my aura itself, actually started to feel uncomfortable. Then, if it was static for more than a few moments, it would start to leak mana. It created blockages that forced other mana to flow around anyway, finding another route through my aura.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

Tam got excited when I started carving into the walls. I tried to keep my creations rather crude. I amused myself by replicating patterns from around the room. A helical structure that mimicked my stand went there, faceted stone in my own image here. I even did some crude human statues that captured the essence of Tam as best I could. I also hid some studies of Tam’s spell in plain sight. I made copies of his analysis spell. I even linked some tiny copies to equally small stone versions of both me and him, mimicking their actual function, though I had to strengthen the stone to prevent it from collapsing the tiny strings.

Throughout the day, as I got more mana, I made more sculptures. Inside, I made traps. Seems like a natural thing for a dungeon to do. Some sculptures would tip over into to the room if touched. When they did, I analyzed how the beam destroyed them. I made a tiny lever of stone that released marbles if it was stepped on. Blades and razor sharp edges adorned parts of the art. I had guillotines release from the ceiling. None of the traps were actually effective, and I had made them that way. It was possible that I could make traps that would hurt Tam, if they were entirely self contained in the alcoves in the wall. However, I didn’t really want to hurt Tam, and anything less than death or full incapacitation would be likely to create even stricter safeguards.

As it was, Tam was utterly enthralled, studying the art and traps throughout the entire day. Tam was startled by a few of the traps, and grew more cautious, but relaxed since he was utterly unharmed. Yeah, that’s right. I’m just a stupid dungeon, not bright enough to hurt you at all. Harmless. Some of the art was naturally destroyed by the beam array, but they had been built with that in mind, so I simply rebuilt them. And, as I continued to study the beam array, I started to tell what was different. There was a tiny flicker of something present when I destroyed stone, which was absent when the beam did it.

Several days passed and my ability to manipulate earth finally moved to level II. Both creation and destruction became easier, with moving stone using almost no mana at all. When I used regenerated mana, I could only move a small bit of stone, but that was enough for the next part of my plan. When I finally got out of the mana drain, damn annoying, I would have enough mana regeneration to move, at least, myself through the stone walls. Especially since I used only a fraction of what I gained before it was drained away. Sadly, I lacked a good way to make a quantitative evaluation.

Still, I can feel I’m only getting a little.

By now, there were various full sized statues of Tam, in all sorts of poses, as well as many more miniature ones. Some statues also mimicked the symbols and designs of the various enchantments. Tam sitting in a chair, with his omnipresent book, featured as well.

Tam had started bringing in various objects for me to study, likely hoping to see them recreated. He had set up a new small table, where various objects now featured. A carved wooden tree, a small scrap of velvet cloth, a cup carved from bone, and more were placed on it. Pretty sure some of this is just because he likes the art. Honestly, I was glad to have something else to look at, too. Replicating the new items was often fun, and the cloth had actually proven a fantastic challenge; it might have contributed to my skill level increasing the most. In the end I had to twist together strands of stone to imitate string and then arrange them into an alternating warp and weft to make the plush cloth. It took even more effort because the warp and weft were not symmetrical. In one direction the threads integrated into the cloth ended and were cut free to create the velvet. I had actually ended up creating it the same way, weaving a whole square of symmetric cloth, and then ‘cutting’ the strands in open direction and lifting them up to properly imitate the velvet. Of course, my version was still stone, so those loose threads would probably break or cut someone’s feet.

I had, on more than one occasion, been tempted to deliberately pick a single object on the table and then refuse to copy it. It wouldn’t matter what the object was, but it would have been hilarious to watch Tam try to figure out why I wasn’t copying it.

Still, he might suspect something. No practical joke for me. Stupid survival ruining my humor.

Tam was definitely taking the opportunity to study my capabilities, too. For example, he brought in a closed box that held coins. They were of different materials. Gold, silver, copper, and iron as far as I could tell. The coins were not what I was expecting. I had seen ancient coins in history classes and museums. They were oblong, crude, and barely held an image at all. These looked far more like modern coinage. Different sizes and patterns, each perfectly replicated into identical coins. The gold coins were tiny, though one set stood out. They had some kind of mana pattern running through them. The density of the mana obscured the details, but it still made those coins unique. The exterior of those coins, especially, reminded me of a work of art. One side depicted an archway, the metal crosshatched to suggest the shadow of depths within, while on other was a snake, complete with tiny detailed scales.

There was something almost endearing about how Tam fawned over my stone imitations of these, which included a fully functional box. He spent minutes opening and closing it, studying the tiny stone hinges. Probably excited I made the mechanical bits work, and that I can see inside without opening it. I assumed he knew this already, but maybe it was only a theory, and I confirmed it. It wasn’t like scientists didn’t get excited when they confirmed a well known theory. That was how advancements got made, after all. Some tiny aspect was confirmed to be true and then scientists could branch off again from there, making incremental improvements to their knowledge.

I made progress in other ways, too. I moved the threads of the enchantment more easily. I still had a hard time keeping the threads of the beam enchantment under control, but, for a little while, I could now keep a small area safe from its notice. I failed to move any other enchantment pieces in my aura, though. Pretty sure they are anchored to the physical structure somehow.

I made progress with Tam’s spells, too. I reexamined the omnipresent analysis spell, over and over. By comparing it to the statues, I was able to confirm that some little bits of the spell were, in fact, just that, little bits of excess mana clumped onto it. With some work over the course of a day I was able to gradually break those pieces off the spell, my aura scraping against the spell like hasp. Those detached parts would promptly lose cohesiveness, dissolving into mana. The bits of mana were small, but I didn’t dare vacuum them in. Tam probably wouldn’t have noticed, but it wasn’t worth the risk. The mana was negligible, but the ability to damage a spell was a powerful tool. Glad I didn’t get some skill for that. Best if Tam doesn’t know it is possible.

My attempts to damage the enchantments, even the hyper thin threads flowing through my aura, had amounted to exactly nothing. Either the enchantments regenerated in some way, they were far tougher than normal spells, or both.

I eventually gained a skill that surprised me, though I should have expected it. I had merely failed to consider the possibility.

You have gained a new skill!

Meditation I

Enter a state of internal self awareness. Enhanced mana regeneration when focused inwards.

I didn’t focus on it every night, only whenever I felt a little off. I still saw a flicker of something, buried deep inside of myself, whenever I did. In other circumstances I would have pursued meditation more deeply, just for that, but my focus was elsewhere. I meditated to stay sane.

The notification made me panic for a brief moment, before I read it enough to get to the ‘enhanced mana regeneration,’ bit. I hadn’t even noticed the difference, not a surprise since all my mana drained away.

That could have been bad.

Tam saw what he expected to see, which I used against him, but he seemed a little suspicious the next morning. Ignore it, ignore it. Come on preconceived biases, don’t fail me now. He seemed surprised, but he didn’t change anything. Hopefully, he just thought it was an instinctive attempt to gather more mana. Not like I can do anything about it. And… this is still better than the alternative. If meditation hadn’t worked… I didn’t even want to consider what a mess I would be.

The day passed as normal, and faded to night.

Nervous from the close call, I debated delaying my plan to another night. I need to start as soon as possible. Now that I was at the jumping off point, my nervousness skyrocketed. There will always be something that you could work on, or a way to be more prepared. Delay is easy, but dangerous. Best to act now. The raving voice of Exsan didn’t help. I felt he was getting easier to ignore though.

Okay, it’s time. Breathe deep. Ignore the fact I don’t breathe, just do it.

I used the tiny amount of mana, constantly available to me, to move some of the stone inside the room. The moment of truth came a moment later when the beam reacted and disintegrated it.

Now, from here, things could go two different ways. Tam would either detect it, or he wouldn’t. Obviously it would be easier if Tam detected nothing, but I was prepared for either eventuality.

It was good I planned for both, because Tam came rushing in only a few moments later.

Damn…

I had never seen Tam like this. His fingers glimmered with rings, each packed with mana, and a silver staff was held in both hands. Spells wrapped around him in swirls and gleaming lines. He was battle ready.

Nothing to see here, battlemage.

Of course, Tam simply found the room, and me sitting with complete innocence on the stand. Tam cast an analysis spell on me, and, of course, I had no mana. Whatever he saw, it made him frown.

Now to play my part.

I directed that tiny trickle of mana to create another depression in the wall. It was slow, but after a moment Tam noticed the change. His alarm grew, his hands tightened on the staff, and wariness painted itself between the thick wrinkles of his face, but, after a few minutes, he relaxed. It was I was creating another statue. This one showed him, as he was now, holding his staff and rings. After that was done I made a spike drop from the ceiling, where it was promptly vaporized.

Now for the moment of truth.

I could redirect threads from the beam array on the wall, and I had thought of some other uses for the beam. It was almost certain to go off during my escape, which meant I needed Tam ignore it on his own. Almost certain to get some new restrictions, but hopefully I can work around them. If not, well I already found ways around all the ones on me now, I could do it again.

As Tam walked out with a determined stride, I slowly crafted another statue, showing his battle spells. And there I remained, waiting.