That was easier said than done. According to his map, it would take him two months to get to Blistia on foot. That was the closest town and anything else would take half a year. He decided that hunting would be most important for the beginning of this trip considering he had no food in his pack.

He moved slowly through the dense forest, each step deliberate to avoid snapping twigs or rustling leaves. His eyes scanned the ground for signs of smaller prey—tracks, droppings, or disturbed foliage. After a while, he found the perfect spot to set up a trap, a small clearing surrounded by thick underbrush. He carefully arranged the trap, ensuring it was well-hidden and effective.

Once satisfied, he positioned himself a few yards downwind, crouching behind a large oak tree to mask his scent. The forest was alive with sounds—the rustling of leaves, distant bird calls, and the occasional snap of a twig. As he waited, he pulled out his father’s worn leather journal, its pages filled with meticulous notes and sketches of various creatures his father had encountered over the years.

One entry about nettlers caught his eye. He remembered the hunt with his father in the forest near their town about five years ago. They had stumbled upon a nettler, and his father had warned him about the sweet scents in the forest. Reading the entry now, he understood why. Nettlers used these scents as part of their mind magic, drawing from your memories to create the most enticing smell you could imagine. It was a trap, luring you closer.

The journal described how, once you were within range, the nettler would shoot needle-like leaves from its back. These leaves were filled with a potent neurotoxin that paralyzed you and induced vivid hallucinations. While you were incapacitated, the nettler would feed on your mana, draining your life force as you dreamt. The detailed description sent a shiver down his spine, reminding him of the dangers lurking in the forest.

That was why, a moment later, when he caught the scent of his mother’s sweet bread, he immediately dropped low and pulled his pack off to retrieve his bow. The aroma drifted from the north, and he followed it cautiously, keeping behind trees to stay hidden. He had no idea where the nettler was, but he knew he had to avoid its deadly needles.

As he crept through the forest, he suddenly felt a warm sensation in his chest, like a gentle hand pressing against him. The warmth grew stronger, spreading through his body, and then the forest fell eerily silent. He froze, knowing that silence in the forest meant danger. The usual chorus of birds and rustling leaves had vanished, replaced by an oppressive stillness.

Taking a deep breath, he closed his eyes and listened intently. Instead of hearing, he felt an uncanny awareness wash over him. His senses seemed to extend beyond their normal range, guided by an invisible force. It was as if his mind reached out, touching the essence of everything around him, sensing their presence without the need for sight, sound, or touch.

He could feel the rough bark of the trees, the soft moss underfoot, and the faint vibrations of creatures moving in the underbrush. The warm sensation in his chest pulsed in rhythm with his heartbeat, heightening his awareness. He sensed the nettler nearby, its presence a dark, pulsating void in the otherwise vibrant forest. The creature’s mind magic was strong, but he steeled himself, focusing on the task at hand. He knew he had to stay sharp and avoid falling into its trap.

That was when he sensed it. The nettler he was sure had been there was a mere ten yards away to the northeast. Just under a tree, it stared in his direction, waiting for him to make a move. Crouched behind the tree, time seemed to ripple around him, though he was unaware of the power he wielded. In an instant, he found himself in a different moment, bow drawn, and arrow knocked. Without understanding how, he had leapt through time, emerging from behind the tree just as the creature came into view. His fingers released the string, and the arrow flew true, striking the target with uncanny precision. It let out a screech that scraped at his eardrums as it died. After a few moments, the sounds of the forest returned.

Tempus stood there, bow still held out in front of him, eyes wide with surprise. How had he done that? He knew he had unlocked his soul, but he had no idea how to use his abilities yet. Did he just jump through time? The thought sent a shiver down his spine. For now, it didn’t matter. He needed to think about how to better use his magic, but first he needed to find somewhere to sleep. The sun was beginning to set, casting long shadows through the trees, and he did not want to get caught in the dark. He scanned the area, looking for a safe place to rest, his mind still reeling from the encounter.

Grabbing his pack he began to move. The forest was cloaked in twilight as Tempus walked swiftly, his heart still pounding from the encounter. The Nettler lay lifeless behind him, its thorny hide a stark reminder of the danger he had just faced. He decided it was best to put some distance between himself and the site of the kill. The Nettler’s territory was unknown to him, and he didn’t want to risk attracting more of its kind. He walked for what felt like hours, the forest growing darker and more silent with each passing minute. Finally, he found a small, secluded clearing that seemed safe enough for the night.

Tempus set down his pack and unrolled his bedroll, choosing not to make a fire. The memory of the magic he had unwittingly used was still fresh in his mind, and he didn’t want to draw any unnecessary attention. He could still feel the residual warmth in his chest, a reminder of the power that had surged through him once more.

He sat down on the bedroll, the cool earth beneath him a stark contrast to the heat he felt within. The forest around him was alive with the sounds of nocturnal creatures, but he felt strangely detached, his thoughts consumed by the events of the evening. He replayed the moment in his mind: the Nettler staring at him, his attempt to defend himself, and then the sudden burst of energy that had felled the creature.

Tempus knew he needed to understand this power, to learn how to control it. But for now, he was exhausted. He lay back, staring up at the canopy of leaves above, the stars just beginning to peek through. The forest seemed to hold its breath, as if waiting for him to make the next move.

He closed his eyes, letting the sounds of the night lull him into a restless sleep. Tomorrow, he would begin his journey to master the magic within him. But tonight, he would rest and gather his strength. The path ahead was uncertain, but he was determined to walk it, no matter where it led.

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The early morning light filtered through the canopy above as Tempus moved silently through the forest. The air was crisp, carrying the earthy scent of damp leaves and pine. He approached the spot where he had set his trap the previous evening, hoping for a successful catch. As he neared, he saw the telltale signs of a struggle—disturbed leaves and a faint trail of blood.

His heart quickened with anticipation. He crouched down, carefully inspecting the trap. A small rabbit lay ensnared, its struggles now ceased. Tempus felt a pang of guilt but reminded himself that this was necessary for his survival. He gently released the trap, lifting the rabbit and examining it to ensure it was a clean catch.

Satisfied, he stood and scanned the area for a suitable place to clean his kill. He spotted a small clearing nearby, bathed in sunlight and sheltered by a ring of trees. It was perfect. He made his way over, laying the rabbit on a flat rock. With practiced hands, he drew his knife and began the process of cleaning the animal, his movements precise and respectful.

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Once the rabbit was cleaned, Tempus gathered some dry wood and kindling, searching for a suitable spot to build a fire. He found a small clearing nearby, bathed in sunlight and sheltered by a ring of trees. It seemed perfect for his needs. He arranged the wood in a small pit he quickly dug out, striking a flint to spark a flame. The fire caught, and soon a steady blaze was warming the clearing. He skewered the rabbit on a makeshift spit, setting it over the flames to cook. The smell of roasting meat soon filled the air, making his stomach growl in anticipation.

As he waited for his meal to cook, Tempus’s thoughts drifted to the strange sensations he had experienced over the last few days. The warmth in his chest, the tingling in the air—he couldn’t ignore them any longer. He had to understand what was happening to him. He had seen others using magic, his parents included, and ma had told him many stories of how people gained their fated souls. How some of them had mundane magic, and others great. How people had to get their souls before they could use magic and the different ways to gain it. That included artificial souls which most people nowadays had. The one thing he remembered most was how people first learned to control mana to a certain degree so they could use their magic properly.

The smell of roasting meat wafted into his nose and he lost his train of thought for a moment. He checked it and realized it was close to finished. With the rabbit nearly done, he took a deep breath and closed his eyes, trying to focus on the sensation of his mana. He felt the warmth again, stronger this time, pulsing through his chest. He visualized the energy flowing through him like a river from his chest to his hands. The warmth intensified, and he opened his eyes to see a faint glow at his fingertips.

His heart raced with excitement and fear. He knew he was on the verge of something incredible, but he needed to understand how to control it. He took a deep breath, calming his mind, and concentrated harder. The glow grew brighter, and he felt a surge of power within him.

The smell of the meat overwhelmed his senses once more, distracting him. The rabbit was ready, and he pulled it from the fire, savoring the first bite. As he ate, he felt a renewed sense of purpose. He would train, he would learn, and he would master this power. The journey ahead was uncertain, but he was no longer afraid. He had taken the first step, and the path of magic lay open before him.

Once he finished his meal, Tempus carefully cleaned up the area. He buried the remains of the rabbit to avoid attracting any predators and scattered the ashes from his fire pit, ensuring no trace was left behind. He packed his belongings, rolling up his bedroll and securing it to his pack. The forest was quiet, the morning light casting a serene glow through the trees.

With everything packed, Tempus took a deep breath and set off towards Blistia. The path ahead was well-trodden, winding through the dense forest. As he walked, Tempus couldn’t shake the feeling of the energy coursing through him. He decided to experiment, focusing on the warmth in his chest and willing it to move. He directed the energy down to his feet, feeling a surge of power. Tentatively, he took a step, then another, each one faster than the last. Before he knew it, he was sprinting through the forest with a speed that was overwhelming. The world blurred around him, and he struggled to control his movements. Suddenly, he tripped over a root, tumbling to the ground and scraping his knees and hands. He lay there for a moment, catching his breath and wincing at the pain, but also marveling at the incredible speed he had achieved.

Determined to continue, he stood up and set his pack down, redirecting the energy to his legs. He bent his knees and jumped, soaring high into the air. The exhilaration of the leap was intense, but as he landed, the ground cracked beneath him, and a cloud of dust was kicked up. The impact was jarring, and he stumbled, feeling the strain in his legs. He realized that his newfound strength was not just enhanced but overwhelming, and he needed to learn how to control it.

As he walked, he pushed the energy to his hands, feeling the warmth intensify. He approached a sturdy tree, its trunk thick and unyielding. With a deep breath, he drew back his fist and punched. The force of the blow was astonishing; the tree didn’t just splinter—it toppled over with a loud crash, roots tearing from the ground. He stared at his hand, unscathed and buzzing with power, but also felt a pang of fear at the sheer strength he possessed.

Tempus spent hours practicing, pushing his mana to different parts of his body and discovering new ways to use it. He found that by concentrating the energy in his arms, he could lift heavy objects with ease, feeling no resistance as if picking up a boulder was the same as lifting a pebble. By channeling it to his eyes, his vision sharpened to the point of being almost overwhelming, allowing him to see details far in the distance with telescopic clarity, but also making it hard to focus on any one thing.

As the morning progressed, Tempus felt a deep sense of satisfaction mixed with a healthy respect for the power he wielded. He was beginning to understand his abilities, to control the magic that flowed within him. Each discovery brought him closer to mastering his power, and he knew that with continued practice, he could unlock even greater potential.

During a moment of rest, Tempus’s thoughts drifted to his parents. The pain of their loss was still fresh, a wound that refused to heal. He struggled with the reality that they were gone, taken from him by the demons that had attacked his hometown. The memories of that night haunted him—the chaos, the fear, and the inexplicable destruction he had somehow caused. He didn’t understand why the demons had targeted his home or what he had done to destroy it. The questions gnawed at him, fueling his determination to uncover the truth and master his abilities.

He gathered his belongings once more and continued his journey, the forest around him now a training ground for his newfound skills. The path ahead was still uncertain, but Tempus felt more prepared than ever to face whatever challenges lay in wait. With determination in his heart and magic at his fingertips, he pressed on, ready to embrace the future.

Over the next couple of days, Tempus settled into a routine of hunting, training, and traveling. Each morning, he would rise with the sun, feeling the warmth of his mana pulsing within him. He would set traps and hunt for food, his enhanced senses making it easier to track and catch prey. The forest, once a daunting expanse, now felt like a familiar training ground.

Tempus focused on refining his control over his mana. He practiced channeling the energy to different parts of his body, learning to manage the overwhelming power. He started with his feet, running through the forest at incredible speeds. The first few attempts were chaotic, often ending with him tripping and falling, but gradually, he learned to control his movements. His speed became a tool rather than a hindrance, allowing him to cover vast distances quickly.

One morning, after a successful hunt, Tempus decided to push his training further. He directed his mana to his legs and leapt into the air, aiming for a nearby tree branch. He soared higher than he expected, landing on the branch with a thud. The tree swayed under his weight, but he managed to keep his balance. From there, he jumped to the next tree, and then the next, moving through the forest canopy with unprecedented speed.

The sensation was exhilarating. Tempus felt like he was flying, the forest a blur beneath him. He practiced this new method of travel, jumping from tree to tree, each leap more controlled than the last. He found that by focusing his mana in short, powerful bursts, he could propel himself further and faster than running on the ground.

By the end of each day, Tempus was exhausted but satisfied with his progress. He would find a secluded spot to camp, setting up his bedroll and preparing a meal from his day’s hunt. As he ate, he reflected on his training, thinking about how far he had come in such a short time. The forest, once a place of danger and uncertainty, had become his ally in his journey of self-discovery.

Each night, he would lie under the stars, feeling the gentle hum of his mana as he drifted off to sleep. The days were long and challenging, but Tempus felt a growing confidence in his abilities. He knew that mastering his mana was the key to unlocking his full potential, and he was determined to continue his training.

As the days passed, Tempus’s control over his mana improved significantly. He could now run at incredible speeds without stumbling and leap from tree to tree with precision. His strength and senses were finely tuned, allowing him to navigate the forest with ease. The journey to Blistia was still ahead, but Tempus felt more prepared than ever to face whatever challenges lay in wait.

With each step, leap, and breath, Tempus grew stronger, his connection to his mana deepening. The path of magic was open before him, and he was ready to embrace it fully. The forest was no longer just a place to survive—it was a place to thrive, to learn, and to become the mage he was destined to be.