Devi froze, her breath catching in her throat. What lay before her was no “village” in the way she might have imagined. It was wild, raw, and chaotic—a tangle of survival instincts turned into something almost resembling order.
The heart of the clearing was dominated by an enormous tree, its roots sprawling across the ground like grasping hands. Beneath its massive base, the raccoons had burrowed dens—shallow pits and crevices reinforced with loosely packed sticks, leaves, and bits of bark. Smaller nests were scattered around the clearing, tucked between exposed roots, or built into hollows in the earth.
Several raccoons scurried between these makeshift shelters, some carrying scraps of food in their mouths while others dragged sticks or stones. A few hung from the lower branches, their movements jerky and nervous as they eyed her from above. The clearing was lit faintly by clusters of glowing mushrooms, which sprouted haphazardly along the roots and ground, their eerie light spilling across the chaotic scene.
It wasn’t civilization—at least, not in the way she knew it. But it wasn’t just instinctual chaos, either. There was a strange, animalistic logic to it, like the forest itself had taught them how to survive.
“This…” Devi whispered, her voice trailing off as she tried to process what she was looking at. “This is incredible.”
The scarred raccoon barked sharply, breaking her reverie. It gestured with its paw toward the base of the tree, then looked back at her with an impatient flick of its tail. Devi hesitated, her fingers tightening around the hilt of her sword. Every instinct told her this was a terrible idea—walking into a den of wild animals, even intelligent ones, wasn’t exactly high on her list of good survival strategies.
But then she looked around. The raccoons weren’t acting hostile. In fact, most of them seemed more curious than anything else. A few of the smaller ones peeked out from their dens, their dark eyes wide as they watched her every move.
“Alright,” she muttered, taking a cautious step forward. “Lead the way, fearless leader.”
The scarred raccoon chittered in what she could almost interpret as satisfaction and began weaving its way through the clearing. Devi followed, her boots crunching softly on the loose dirt. As she walked, the other raccoons scurried out of her path, their movements quick and skittish. One particularly bold juvenile darted forward, sniffing the air in her direction before scampering back to a nearby nest.
As they approached the massive tree, a wiry raccoon darted out from one of the dens. Its sleek coat gleamed faintly in the glow of the mushrooms, and its sharp eyes were locked on Devi with barely concealed suspicion. The other raccoons scattered as it approached, clearing a path like it commanded some unspoken authority.
The wiry raccoon barked sharply, its tone almost scolding, as it glanced from Devi to the scarred leader. The scarred raccoon chittered back, its posture calm but firm as if trying to placate the newcomer. The wiry one huffed, puffing up slightly, and barked again, this time with more insistence.
Devi folded her arms, watching the exchange with a mix of curiosity and unease. It didn’t take a linguist to figure out what was going on—the wiry raccoon didn’t like her being there. Its sharp, snapping sounds reminded her of the territorial disputes she’d seen among stray animals back home.
The scarred leader stood its ground, letting out a short, almost dismissive chitter and then gestured at Devi with its paw. The wiry raccoon froze, its ears flattening slightly as its gaze flicked back to her. It hissed under its breath—something between frustration and resignation—before turning away and slinking up one of the larger roots.
“Well,” Devi muttered, raising an eyebrow. “I guess I am not winning any popularity contests here.”
The scarred raccoon chittered softly in response, the tone almost reassuring. It gestured again with its paw, this time toward a small hollow beneath the tree. Devi glanced at it and realized it was lined with dried moss and leaves, arranged into what could only be described as a rudimentary bed.
“For me?” she asked, glancing down at the raccoon. It nodded once, its tail flicking.
Devi hesitated. The ground beneath the tree didn’t exactly scream comfort, but after everything she’d been through, she wasn’t about to turn down a safe place to sleep. “Alright,” she said, lowering herself onto the makeshift bed. It was scratchy and smelled faintly of damp earth, but it was better than nothing.
The scarred raccoon chittered once more before scurrying off into the clearing, leaving Devi alone beneath the tree. She leaned back against the roots, her sword still close at hand, and let out a long, tired sigh.
She really would have preferred to be back in the clearing she appeared in, but, this wasn’t too bad of a spot. The raccoons didn’t look like they were going to murder her in her sleep, especially not after she had helped them with the wolves. She wasn’t naive enough to think the bigger-than-normal rodents were helping her out of the goodness of their hearts. They wanted something, she could feel. Or maybe they were being nice to an ally of happenstance.
It never hurt to be friendly with someone who could blast fire out of a sword.
Once Devi had settled a bit more into the surprisingly cozy burrow, she turned her attention to her bandaged arm.
She winced as she unwrapped the crude bandages from her arm, her breath catching at the sight of what lay beneath. Her hand—or where her hand used to be—was now a rough, jagged stump. The bite wound left by the wolf had scabbed over unevenly, raw edges of flesh still red and angry. Blood had seeped through the bandages during the walk to the clearing, staining the fabric a dark brown.
She clenched her teeth, staring at the injury. The phantom pain was still there—her fingers itched and throbbed even though they were long gone. She could somewhat ignore the pain when focusing on other things, like fighting off wolves, but now, in the somewhat safe of this burrow, all her attention was on what she had lost.
As she started rewrapping her stump with new bandages, Devi couldn’t help but go over the fight in her head. She could see so many ways it could have gone better. Could have ended in her keeping her hand.
She could have put the crystals in a bag and had the monster bite down on that, she could have tried throwing them into its mouth. She could have even tried stabbing it in the eye before gambling with her hand.
“Stupid stupid stupid,” Devi muttered to herself as she banged her head on the root behind her.
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Eventually, her tumultuous thoughts calmed down to a simmer as the cold hard reality settled over her again.
Her hand was gone, and there was nothing she could do about it. At least right now. Literal magic exists now, who knows, maybe I could get my hand back eventually. It wasn’t even that far-fetched of an idea. The potion she drank had instantly healed her smaller wounds, so, it stood to reason a better potion could do the trick.
She finished wrapping her stump and turned her attention to the pair of gloves the dungeon had rewarded her with. She had tried her newest Skill [Assess Item], only to get a bunch of question marks in response.
However, that did make her remember she had forgotten to use [Inspect] on any of the wolves or raccoons. It was just so easy to forget she had these odd Skills, but, she needed to remember. To use them enough that they became second nature. And to read her notifications.
Devi refocused on the gloves lying in her lap. The sharp claws glinting in the faint firelight, while the leather seemed to drink in the light. She could see the mana laced through the glove, coiled in certain locations, creating a web of dark violet mana that pulsed slightly.
She stared at the gloves, debating on putting them on. The claws seemed fairly impractical in daily life honestly, and she had no idea what they did. They obviously had magic, but, what that magic did was anyone’s guess. Who knew, it could vaporize the first person to put them on? And knowing her luck, she’d need both of the gloves to have them do anything, and with her missing hand, that was impossible.
It was just like this new world to give her something that screamed magical, and even had a rarity of Uncommon to boot, only for her not to be able to use it. And even if she had two working hands, these gloves screamed “Cursed!”
Still, she couldn’t stop herself from poking and prodding at the gloves with her mana. A little peak wouldn’t hurt, right?
It was frustratingly hard to actually see anything using only her [Mana Sight], so instead she opted to send a small trickle of her own mana into the gloves. It was the same way she had enchanted the array disks, feeling the internal mana structure with her own.
The only difference was that instead of finding the entity of the glove to be malleable to her mana, it felt solid, and impassible, for the most part. The difference between granite and soft clay. She could feel faint pathways running through the glove, connecting small nodes that seemed far more malleable, but still ridged.
Bringing the gloves up to her eyes, she saw that the odd nodes seemed to correspond to faint glyphs sewn into the leather, a deep black thread on top of the pitch back of the glove.
It wasn’t until inspecting the fourth rune did she noticed something odd. There was almost a feeling attached to it. It wasn’t her own feeling, she realized, but something placed there. The memory of intent is woven into the magic itself.
The mana felt, dark, for lack of a better term. Not that the color was dark, but that it invoked feelings of darkness, of shadows, of the night. It felt alien as well, not quite a human thought.
Devi sat back, looking at the gloves. She didn’t know if it was just that these gloves were odd, or if it meant that mana could hold feelings. And if those feelings were important to magic. Did magic need only glyphs, or could you also use feelings?
Curious, Devi gathered a blob of mana in her palm and focused on the idea of fire. It was easy to conjure up memories of flickering flames, and dancing lights. The cozy warmth, and raging heat of a flame.
Slowly, the mana in front of her started to flicker, bleeding out colors until only reds, yellows, and oranges remained. But that’s all that happened. No flame sprang into existence, nor light. But she could feel the possibility, just on the other side of a wall. Something she couldn’t quite push through. Just a bit more and she felt it would be possible to will the fire into existence.
“Wait, will, the fire into existence?” She murmured out loud.
A quick check of her Status page confirmed that Willpower was indeed a stat. One she hadn’t thought about. But, if her theory was right, it might help here.
Using [Attribute Enhamcnet], Devi boosted her Willpower by a full 7 points and then tried pushing the feeling of flames into her mana to try and summon a flame.
This time it was easier, but, the wall was still there, just, less firm.
Devi gritted her teeth, focusing on the flickering mana in her palm. She could feel it now—the wall that separated her from fire was no longer an immovable barrier but something pliable, like stretched leather under pressure. The weight of her boosted Willpower surged within her, and she pushed harder, pouring every ounce of focus and intent into the sensation of flames.
The flicker of red and orange in her palm intensified. Heat blossomed, faint at first, then roaring to life as a small flame sprang into existence, dancing erratically in her hand. Devi gasped, the warmth brushing against her face as she stared at the fire she had created. It wavered slightly, her mana still feeding into it, but it was real—a flickering, living flame born of nothing but will and magic.
"Yes!" Devi whispered, a grin spreading across her face. The thrill of success rushed through her veins, pushing back the fatigue of the day. She extinguished the flame with a flick of her fingers, letting her mana dissipate back into the air. But her mind was already racing with possibilities. She hadn't just summoned fire—she'd shaped it from mana and intent alone. Was that the foundation of magic? Were glyphs necessary at all?
Curious, Devi pulled more mana into her fingertips and started trying to form a glyph for fire in the air. She knew that sending mana through her etched glyphs caused fire, so, shouldn’t this work as well?
Shaping the mana felt far different than poring her intent into it. She had to focus on multiple parts, as she couldn’t leave any part of the glyph alone unless it threatened to unravel. It was very similar to when she was enchanting the array disks, but so much easier.
This time, it was only one pattern, and far less complex.
Before long, a glyph floated in front of her, visible only to her [Mana Sight], hovering like an ember caught in an invisible breeze. For a moment, Devi hesitated, her heart pounding. The glyph was perfect, every line sharp and steady. It hummed softly with latent power, waiting for a spark to set it alight.
Taking a deep breath, she channeled a small pulse of mana into the glyph. The effect was instantaneous—the lines flared brightly, and a controlled burst of fire erupted from the center, illuminating the burrow in warm, flickering light. The flame danced for a moment before dissipating harmlessly into the air, leaving behind a faint smell of singed wood and a lingering warmth.
Devi let out a shaky laugh, her breath fogging slightly in the cool night air. “Holy shit,” she muttered, staring at the space where the fire had been. “I actually did it.”
Her mind buzzed with excitement. She had just created magic without the help of a pre-inscribed array or enchanted item. And two different ways at that. What if she chained more glyphs together? Or had a different intent? What could she do? Could the two ways of casting magic overlap?
Her thoughts were interrupted by a faint chittering sound. Devi glanced up to see a small group of raccoons gathered at the edge of the burrow, their glowing eyes wide with curiosity. One of them cocked its head, the reflection of the fire still lingering in its gaze.
“What?” Devi said, raising an eyebrow. “Never seen a human play with fire before?”
The raccoons didn’t respond—of course—but their silent scrutiny made her chuckle. They looked... impressed? Or maybe it was just her imagination. Either way, the scarred raccoon leader appeared moments later, chittering softly at the group and shooing them away with a wave of its paw. It glanced at Devi with something akin to approval before vanishing into the shadows once more.
I still have no idea what they want with me. Maybe this is just their way of thanking me for helping out with the wolves.
Devi turned back to explore magic, only to notice her mana was in the single digits. She hadn’t recovered from the fight with the wolves, and even before then, she was running on empty.
With scowl, Devi leaned back against the root walls of the den, mind drifting off with pleasant thoughts of magic and what future things she could try.