I managed to get Anna back to sleep, though, it took some time. She informed me that we would be going over some magic stuff in the morning if she was okay to move. If not she left me with a few suggestions to start reading through. A book on magic theory, Magic, Stats and skills, was another, a book on my magical rights that sounded like I would rather eat sand, and a book called Magealin the Magicians Guide to Mana, which was apparently a good source as well as a mouthful. Books on books on books, including some that Anna didn’t have, but had put in an order for.

When she had put in the order she had not told me, but she had slipped it in somewhere.

If I somehow mapped out Anna’s activities it would just be everything, all at once. I had no idea how she did it.

It was probably a few hours before sunrise, by my guess, and I was surprisingly not tired.

I stayed for a while, making sure Anna was well and back to sleep before I rolled her up a little and escaped Anna’s exorcism-worthy sleepy time escapade before it happened.

I headed out into the kitchen and toped up the fire, which was still warm enough to catch the wood, the fire up’ed and up’ed and I made sure to get it set up before I headed back to the study, to start studying.

I found her book, Magealin the Magicians Guide to Mana, and cracked it open, and started reading.

It started out normal enough, a table of contents talking and a forward about the properties of mana, and how it changed, and how it grew as it moved, and how you could measure mana using this formula, and a thousand reasons how mana seemed really boring when described in a book.

But that was just the forward, written by another guy. It got good when Magealin started describing properties, and I stopped flipping pages. I was about to start flipping past boring pages when I picked up a look at,

For the elements, it is common to describe them based on how fast they move in a straight line. While other mana types have different more important distinguishing characteristics. While I disagree with this, as it sets an inaccurate example of an element's capabilities in a reader’s mind, I fear my academic credibility would no doubt be trampled upon by Arcanist Mastromo should I not include them. Instead, simply skip the next paragraph, and know that while I disagree, the speed of their travel only describes the simple template spells, spells like Catapult or even Bombard can hurtle stones a great distance, don’t let the detail of ‘short’ range hamper your interest in earth magic, they also only apply to a spell fired in a straight line, which many spells don’t do.

That was all well and interesting, I didn’t know that elements had different ranges which was new information all on its own, but what was more interesting was the next paragraph.

It read,

Now, listen here, if your Mastromo, or perhaps one of his cadre. We all know you stole the idea for range from one of your apprentices. You are a hack, and ought to be ousted for this blatant misconduct. I may not be able to duel you, but in publishing this book I…

Gossip. Old man drama.

A callout in a magic text.

I loved it immediately

It was amazing. He just went on, utterly ripping into the Mastromo guy. It was the best type of revenge, one served who knows how long after the fact. I could imagine some kind of tiny academic furiously waggling a quill pen as he got vengeance on a random mage for stealing ideas, tutting to himself about real mages or whatever.

It was chaotic like Kindly and bookish like Skipseo, and gave me a pint of nostalgia for a person I had never known.

And it wasn’t a short paragraph either, it was like, half the page in length.

It hooked me, right there.

Skipping nothing I got to the next paragraph and read, then read the next. Spells made from elements travelled different distances at the same time, and that was measured and recorded, as was the general way those elements did damage to a target with ‘template spells’, you kind of chucked it at them, like a crossbow bolt. He also described for the first time I had read ‘mixed mana types’ like my recently gotten Grave magic and my Verdant magic.

Mixed mana types go by many names, like composite mana or special mana, but I shall use a simple name. They are mana types formed from distinct combinations, or a mixture, of two or more different mana types. If there is a mana type mentioned in this book that is not in the basic list, it should have the mana types next to it, but if it doesn’t, there is a section in the appendix for all types currently known to me and those in good standing, cough chough not you Mastromo, are in agreement with me as I write, though there may be future amendments that add more.

There are also refinements of a mana type, a distinct type of magic that is a subset of a commonly used mana type, such as Stone mana being a type of Earth mana. Dirt alone has possibly hundreds of mana types in it, as speculated by some Researchers, they simply form a simplified mana type, Dirt, which is a type of Earth mana. There is a list in the appendix to help you distinguish. To distinguish between them, Base or Basic mana types refer to the basics discussed later and can be considered the formally recognized ‘normal’ mana types.

That made enough sense to me.

So there are the basics, presumably like Earth, or Fire, or whatever. And the things that they make when combined, and the things that combine to make them. Makes enough sense things are made of things, but at some point, describing stuff based on its components is kind of useless, like describing a building based on nails or wood instead of its function. If your lowest common unit was a singular nail and you were describing a town, it would be a massive pain in the behind, and describing a building by it’s town its also a pain, so its like a middle ground thing.

I kept reading, getting to the point where he began discussing actual mana and was having a hoot at reading, but checked the candles and found that it had passed quite a lot of time. And as much as I wanted to read the book, I should head out and start on breakfast.

I realized that we could use some more food, something to change up the breakfast situation. We didn’t even have all that many herbs or spices, which was just… too weird, considering they literally grew in the garden.

If I was going to pick up a book, then I might as well pick up some herbs and maybe some food. I had a few coins left… Well… technically, I had a whole lot of coins left, but that was the point, now, wasn’t it?

I thought up a few things I could make and what I would need with what limited food I knew, and came up with a few answers that weren’t potato and bread and meat and remembered what I could while I made some breakfast, boiling some water for root tea, and getting everything ready before going in to wake up Anna.

She was curled up still, wrapped around where I had slept.

It was a quiet moment, silent and peaceful.

She was inverted, her head where my thighs would have been, and her legs wrapped around where my head, neck and shoulders would have been.

She wiggled back and forth periodically.

I decided to not imagine myself in the same position I had been in, with Anna’s head in my lap, and her legs clamped around my head and how that made me feel.

“Anna… Wake up,” I called over to her.

She wiggled, so I walked up to her and shook her lightly, and when that didn’t work, I gave her a tickle.

She woke up with a “Whaa?” and I just smiled at her.

“Breakfast is ready, how are you feeling?”

“I’m fine… I-” She tried to sit up and cut herself off with a “Ughh.” It was the kind of noise that someone getting punched in the gut might make, and she immediately folded back flat, letting out other sounds of discomfort.

I reached over and got her supported upright, pillows put under and behind her to take her weight but keep her upright.

“I’ll go get a chair and bring you your food, ok?” I told more than asked.

“Mkay,” she groaned as I strode through the doorway, instinctively planting my feet as I turned through the doorway with [Woodsman’s Stride], which, while soft, worked just fine. The stride was different than my normal walking; it planted my weight differently than expected, and I shifted it differently, too, but it felt instinctive and utterly normal.

I got our food and did my best to balance everything before simply taking one set, then another with the chair and getting situated. I took up her cup and offered it up to her.

She shook as she took it, so I kept the cup ready to be sipped from, holding it for her to sip from when she wanted.

If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.

“I hate this,” she told me, “Not this, but the everything else, outside of this. And this too, but much less”

I parsed her words for their meaning but asked, “You mean the holding your drink part? Or the tea?” for clarification.

“No… not the tea,” she sighed, “I just don’t like being fed.”

I can get that, or at least I think I can. Anna is used to having agency and being able to do what she wants with it, not on relying on others to do it for her in such an immediate way. I have the exact opposite problem, I always rely on others and can’t do things without them.

“I think I can understand,” I told her, “But you can barely hold a cup. It’s okay not to like it… It’s one of the things I like about you, how you can do anything… But for now, it’s hard, and… I’m here to help. Heck, I went through something similar just a while ago… remember?”

She nodded glumly, and I leaned in to give her a kiss on the head.

“It’s only for a day or so… Oh, I should ask, are your skills kind of floppy? Mine are.” I asked her, aiming only for no condescension and passed with flying colours. It was the last thing I wanted to come off as.

“No, what does that even mean? Floppy? They feel… I don’t know, a little soft, maybe?”

“It means that you can’t use them a whole lot, I think it's based on the amount you got, maybe? Just… don’t overuse them, they're kind of like an overused muscle,” I warned.

“Okay then… Gah… A few days?… This sucks,” she moaned.

“Well,” I said cheekily, “It’s the price we pay for getting a lot of levels.”

She grumbled about getting levels in a class she didn’t want while I got her dish and a spoon.

“Here’s your food,” I told her, showing the spoon.

“I’m not a kid…” She huffed.

“I know you’re not a kid, you are far too mature and beautiful to be a kid. Now… Say AHH.”

It was a one-two punch of tease and flatter, it worked so well, it was like it was built in a workshop with the express purpose of getting her to open her mouth.

“What Are-” she tried to say before I pushed the spoon into her mouth, turning the ‘Are’ to an ‘Ahh’.

The look on her face made me want to laugh, but I made sure to hold it in and keep my arm steady as she ate it.

When I pulled the spoon out, she was pouting, “My disappointment is immeasurable, and my day is ruined. Go on, laugh, I can see you want to.”

I replied with my best impression of, “Ahh” and started laughing my ass off.

Anna waited for me to get it out of my system, her deadpan look making me want to laugh even harder, which made her mouth twitch into a slight, almost non-existent smile, which got me to laugh louder, which got her to laugh.

Before I knew it, I was rolling on the floor, clutching my sides while they started to hurt, and she started coughing from laughing.

My laugh attack wound down, leaving me hyperventilating on the floor, and for all the discomfort, a smile on my face. One on Anna’s too, despite the wincing.

“I can’t believe…” she breathed, “That you used beautiful as a way to make me gape.”

“Yeh… You are, though, beautiful, that is.”

She sighed, “I don’t feel like I am. I feel like a dead woman.”

“It’s just because you’re in bed, I bet you would feel better in a comfy chair or whatnot. And either way, I bet you would look good in black.” I told her.

“I don’t know… Mages don’t wear black, it makes us look like we do dark magic, which is kind of a bad idea to plant,” she said hesitantly.

“That’s too bad, but most things fit you that aren’t black. Green and green blue make your eyes pop, and brown to yellow probably would work, too, with your hair. Say, I was reading earlier, isn’t dark magic a kind of magic? With mana, I mean. It was in the table of contents of Magelin’s book.”

“Flaterer. Dark mages have it the worst because they use darkness mana. It’s just a phrase. Black magic, dark magic, evil magic, and so on.” She told me, “Black is also the classical colour of Death magic, while Dark magic practitioners, like the ones that do magic that uses darkness mana, often dress in grey and use other names, moon mages, night mages, Shadow mages, stuff like that, it has the most common difference in their naming scheme. Are you enjoying it? It’s one of the better magical reads, she ”

“Am I!” I told her, “He just came right out and scolded someone in the first bit. I haven’t gotten to the mana types yet, but it’s been good so far.”

“Ohhhh. You’re missing out, there are a bunch of good parts in his descriptions. I won’t spoil it. When I think about some mana types, I remember reading those bits,” she said.

She wiggled as she said it, a little jiggle of her hips that I was picking up on as a tell for her excitement. She talked about the book in the same way I would talk about stuff I was interested in but nobody understood.

She was sharing one of the things she liked with me.

It made me feel warm inside, we were sharing a moment over something that we both enjoyed. It was a moment that I would always remember, one that you knew in that moment, you would remember when anything reminded you about it.

And it also made me aware of another hole in my thoughts, a blind spot.

I had been trying to split the difference between me courting Anna and her being my magic teacher, and for some reason, I had been doing that without thinking. I had been watching how I did things to be both where I could and one or the other if I couldn’t. But when I got right down to it, Anna was teaching me something she liked and that almost no one else understood.

She was sharing her passion with me. She was my teacher but not my master.

She was a friend, teaching her new friend how to do magic. Something she loved, something she spent her time doing and loved to do.

And I bet she hoped I would, too.

It was something I should have been aware of, and while internalizing it would change me a little, it was a relief of my mental state more than anything. Anna wasn’t my teacher and someone I was courting; she was a close friend who might be more, and I should get the baggage I hadn’t seen out of the way, get rid of the distance I felt was required when she was a teacher, and keep it closer to how I was now.

I cut the hole in my thoughts in two, my mind, true to Selliban's pep talk, a blade sharper than any shovel I had ever held, not that I had, but it was a fine edge indeed, and it would only ever grow finer as I levelled.

I smiled at her, nodded my head, and said, “I can’t wait,” which I quickly followed with, “Do you want anything else?”

She looked at me and nodded, “A little more, but no more messing with me, please. I can open my mouth just fine.”

She was open, and the part of me that had fox instinct screamed. Go for the kill, dive in she’s wide open.

Gods help me, but I dove in, the part of me that was just a normal person, with all it’s wisdom and the part of me that was deer and was just chowing down on the mental equivalent of grass and was out.

“I know you can. I just like teasing you, and I think you like it… Don’t you, mistress?” I asked her in a rougher, sultry tone, as husky as I could.

She had an immediate reaction, pressing her legs together under the blanket and perking up. It was a confused response, one part arousal, one part prey, and it tickled my instinct and made me like teasing her.

It also left her mouth open.

Another scoop of breakfast went into Anna’s mouth as it hung open to catch flies or a spoon, as it were.

Her look was caustic.

“I can’t help it, I really can’t,” I told her, “You’re just too… Mousey not to tease.”

“By the roots, you incorrigible. My mousiness?” She said, in total disbelief.

In fairness to myself, I was restraining myself as much as I could, my instinct wanted to nip away at her. I wanted to do so much more when she froze up to teasing it was intoxicating.

“You are… very teaseable? It’s hard not to tease you when you go all... Mousey. It riles me up a bit.”

“Riles you up!” she lightly shouted, “Riles you up how?”

I really didn’t want to answer that. It was always an awkward conversation to think about, and I could only imagine the awkwardness of explaining it to a human, let alone Anna, who was Human, with Human sensibility and the mind of a Mouse and the conflict of her needs. She wouldn’t get it, the idea of a little nibble. It wasn’t something Humans seemed to do.

How do I explain that I desperately want a taste… Without coming off like a total freak? Oh, you know… I want to nip at you, you know, with my teeth, no, not to eat you, just to get the taste of your skin in my mouth, you know, because you’re a mouse and I’m a fox? It’s playful, I swear. Hah, Good luck.

Oh gods, she’s still looking at me…

“I… I’m sorry, but I can’t. I can’t explain. You just are. It’s instinct.”

“Goodness, you are going to drive me mad,” she huffed.

“Right back at you,” I huffed, muscles tensing at her movements in a way that was unbidden by me.

“Another.” She told me, and I obliged, spooning another mouthful into her mouth in awkward silence as we both gave each other less-than-candid glances and we blushed like a bunch of children.

Eventually, I, with all my social graces, said, “I’m going to get some stuff from town and the books, do you want anything? Maybe a tea for the soreness?”

“No, no. Go on. If you have time, make sure to tend the garden; don’t go worrying about me all day, hovering like a nanny.”

There was something about the statement that told me she wanted me to come back in, which was a relief. She wasn’t angry with me, I didn’t think, just exasperated with my back and forth, which was reasonable enough I was teasing her a lot.

I was, of course, incorrigible and spotted it as another opportunity to strike, but the rest of me won out, and I made sure to get her a second cup of tea, leaving it near the bed for her to pick up if she could exert herself to pick it up from the chair next to the bed.

I sighed in the big room, got my stuff ready to go into town, and decided to wash my clothes one more time to try and get the dirt and blood out of them as best as I could. They painted a grizzly picture, and getting some of the blood out might at least make them recoverable.

They were a gift, dyed fabric, beautiful, and here it was as shredded fabric. My tunic, with me for uncounted years, was nearly ruined, likely unrecoverable, but it too had been a gift, and if I could, I would see if the [Tailor] would stitch it up so I could at least keep it.

It was a dumb moment to be sad. They were, at the end of the day, just some clothes, but looking at them at the moment, I felt lost at the idea of parting with them.

I would need different clothes to wear when I fought, I would need armour or something else that could handle the fighting it would see, instead of church clothes.

I headed outside to wash them, half dragging the tub out of the door, my clothes under one arm, my other hand hefting the tub when I was taken up short.

Standing in front of the cottage was a sigh more bizarre than anything I had ever seen, which was something that was changing on a daily at this point, but was far, far more hard to get used to than culture shock.

But this one was at least not horrifically threatening, or at least not yet.

There was a small herd of animals just sitting in front of the cabin.

Woodland critters sat in little clusters, rodents sat next to one another, chittering in groups, a mischief of mice, a plague of rats with a [Lesser Rat king] their tails and bodies at the center chittered at a [Lesser laird of Wheat] with the mice, though in a manner I could only describe as cordial, like two [Lords] conversing on the weather.

Nearby, a solitary squirrel, a very obviously magical beast like the king and the laird, chittered at a few crows, and they bobbed their heads back in answer.

A gaze of raccoons looked up at me, sitting on their buts, next to a Wolf, a Dog, and a wolfdog puppy between them that kept looking at the raccoons like it wanted to play.

Foxes, Rabbits, Animals and Beasts sat around on the ground and in the trees as butterflies and bees pollinate the garden. A mother brown bear and her cubs, a deer and a moose, and all manner of creatures I had never seen sat around in front of the cabin, and they all turned their eyes to me as I stood in the doorway, quieting down from background noise I had not even thought about to dead silence.

You could have heard an ant click, none of us even breathed.

I sighed and let the tub down, rubbing my eyes before confirming that they were, in fact, here and not killing one another in some form of gargantuan bloodbath, “What now? What… What is this?”

A wolf cocked its ear at me while a woodland critter chittered politely.

I sighed.

The brown bear sighed, too, while her cubs looked around, confused.

I would give them this, they were being very polite.

“Anna,” I called, “There’s a thing!”