The next morning when Sorrinn awoke, his eyes opened to a great surprise from The System:
[System prerequisite met! You’ve acquired a new skill: Mystic Manipulation!]
[Mystic Manipulation Lvl 1] - (Arcana) - (Passive): The means through which your mystic wealth permeates through your mystic pathways is optimized for efficiency, allowing you to maneuver mystic energy through your pathways easier. The diffusion rate for uncharted pathways is increased by 25%. The rate charted pathways gain diffusion efficiency is increased by 10%.
[Ascension Trial: Meet the prerequisites to organically acquire any new skill has been completed!]
[Congratulations, Sorrinn Songscribe, you have reached Level 3! You have received the following as a reward: +3 Essence of Ascension, +5 Essence of Cultivation.]
His day was a certified great one after waking up to that. The System was a real one. He didn’t know what he did to unlock Mystic Manipulation, but he wasn’t going to be caught dead complaining. It could’ve had anything to do with the last two months of interminable study and practice of influencing his mystic wealth. Perhaps that was the prerequisite: he proved his dedication and The System was rewarding him with the tools to aid in his progression free of charge.
He found it interesting how The System and The Mystic Force, despite both being god-like entities capable of defining and warping the rules of reality with ease, seemed to host a mutual form of symbiosis through him. He was surprised he wasn’t more unsettled by the fact he existed beneath the grace of two cosmic beings. The idea never bothered him, for some reason. He yearned for an unshackleable freedom and unconquerable strength, and They bestowed him the tools to accomplish his goals. Beneath their rays of light was perhaps where he was most comfortable.
That said, he opened his menu to the Attributes tab, dumping his three Essences of Ascension into Arcana.
—Arcana: 40 / [89] / (6)
One more level-up and he’d penetrate through the ninety PV threshold. He was giddy, squealing, and frothing from the mouth thinking about surpassing one-hundred PV. Exploring the mystic arts only made him fall deeper in love with it. He was hooked on the challenge it presented, the discipline it demanded, the direction it offered his life, and sense of accomplishment that rose from mastering it. It was kindred to playing DarkSouls as a Fromsoft noob, getting one’s rump parted and one’s hole fondled to the brink of suicide, but deciding to bear through it and become a god on the other side of innumerable deaths. Why stop at a hundred? Why not push it up to two-hundred? Madly chucking with himself as his cheeks rosied, he was tempted. But he’d at least boost his lacking body attributes up to the average line before becoming a full-fledged Arcana zealot. He didn’t have to be Hercules, but he didn’t want to be too much of a glass cannon either. His Elven genetics weren’t doing him any favors on that front.
As for his Essences of Cultivation, he jumped to the Ascendance Shop to see what he was grabbing that time. Everything that was in the Shop last time was still there, minus the skills he’d purchased. In addition, there were ten new skills:
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{The Ascendance Shop}
[Available Essence of Cultivation: 6]
(Vitality Skills)
* (New!) (Cost: 10) [Hastened Regeneration Lvl 1] - (Vitality) - (Active): Draw energy away from other bodily functions to accelerate and optimize the rate your injuries naturally heal by up to x10.
(Intelligence Skills)
* (New!) (Cost: 5) [Linguistically Prodigious Lvl 1] - (Intelligence) - (Passive): Become able to comprehend and assimilate with new languages at a hastened pace. The rate at which you amass Intelligence experience when exploring matters of language is increased by 10%.
* (New!) (Cost: 2) [Learning Lvl 1] - (Intelligence) - (Passive): You fall into deeper focus and your brain absorbs more information when being taught or when studying. Gain 5% more Intelligence experience when in an educating environment.
* (New!) (Cost: 2) [Reading Lvl 1] - (Intelligence) - (Passive): Your brain processes the words your eyes perceive quicker, allowing you to read faster by 15%. Intelligence experience gained from the activity of reading is increased by 5%.
(Wisdom Skills)
* (New!) (Cost: 5) [Survey Lvl 1] - (Wisdom) - (Active): Scan the environment within 15 feet of your eyeview and reveal information about what is seen with a small chance to reveal details you haven’t detected.
(Charisma Skills)
* (New!) (Cost: 5) [Disarming Smile Lvl 1] - (Charisma) - (Passive): The purity of your smile and the compelling beauty it demonstrates alongside your features pilfers the suspicion and unease of those who gaze upon it. Those you smile at will treat you more favorably and will gain trust in you 20% quicker.
(Arcana Skills)
* (New!) (Cost: 5) [Stone Shard Lvl 1] - (Arcana) - (Active): Create a small, brittle shard of rock and fire it a short distance, dealing weak striking damage to a target.
* (New!) (Cost: 5) [Firebolt Lvl 1] - (Arcana) - (Active): Create a small torch of flame and fire it a short distance, bathing the targeted area in a sheet of fire.
* (New!) (Cost: 5) [Aqua Shot Lvl 1] - (Arcana) - (Active): Create a small bullet of water and fire it a moderate distance, dealing weak striking damage to a target.
* (New!) (Cost: 5) [Wind Burst Lvl 1] - (Arcana) - (Active): Create a small windstorm and unleash it a very short distance, dealing weak striking damage to a target and possibly pushing the target away.
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Sorrinn noticed that only his attributes that had PVs over fifty were the ones receiving skill options. Another thing he noticed: his own life experiences were what was influencing the skills which became available in the shop. He injured himself twice while casting magic, so [Hastened Regeneration] sprouted up. He started dedicating himself to learning to read, write, and speak Elven Common, and a whole host of optimizer skills popped up to supplement his effort. His Dexterity didn’t have a fifty-plus PV, so the [Scribing] skill wasn’t there. He studied four spells, then those exact four spells were in the Shop for purchase as System skills, allowing him to, what he assumed, bypass the minutiae and cast those spells instantly.
He was tempted by the spells, but they began in their weakest forms and were quite expensive. It was his assumption that leveling them up would upgrade them into the higher-grade variants of the spell. He understood why they were so pricey. Being able to cast a magma-evolved Stone Shard that was as big as someone’s head across hundreds of feet at bullet speeds without thinking about it at all was a huge deal. But he didn’t believe it was a necessary investment for himself. Him reaching the point where he achieved similar results as the skills was inevitable, he felt. He’d save the points for something better.
He was split between [Focus] and [Arcane Absorptive]. Both had a lot of value for where he was in his progression.
(Arcana Skills)
* (Cost: 5) [Arcane Absorptive Lvl 1] - (Arcana) - (Passive): Passively draw a small amount of ambient arcane energy from the atmosphere and objects around you to assist with mystic wealth replenishment. Overflow will add to Arcana experience progress.
(Spirit Skills)
* (Cost: 5) [Focus Lvl 1] - (Spirit) - (Active): While performing any activity, enter a deeper state of focus which will increase the relevant attributes associated with the task being performed by 10% of themselves.
His choice was [Arcane Absorptive]. It’d help recuperate his mystic wealth, allowing him to practice more in a single day before hitting the point of exhaustion. He also imagined it’d go a long way during the night, when his wealth was full and all of that overflow would add to his experience pool. He’d grab [Focus] when he reached level four.
The last thing he wanted to check was his Log to see what the new ascendance task was.
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A new trial has descended…
{Trials of the Ascendant}
[Ascension Task]: Level up any two of your skills to Level 2. (0/2)
If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.
[Completion Reward]: Level +1
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Just when he was agonizing about having no clue how to level up his skills. The System was a troll.
Jokes aside, it seemed like It was guiding him through the mechanics—a tutorial, of sorts. Maybe the answer to his dilemma was the simplest one. Skills possibly leveled up via the skill experience they amassed through being practically utilized. If that was so, the question then was: which two of his eight skills was he going to focus on leveling?
The first, he was leaning toward [Ethereal Surge]. The mass increase in all attributes excluding Spirit was too huge to not invest in. It was an active skill, so his guess was on using it being enough to level it.
The second, [Mystic Manipulation] without a doubt. He was going to be making a lot of use of it in the future, and if his theory about skill experience was correct, it would level passively through his spell-training effort since it was a passive skill.
All of that settled, he had some time to kill until after breakfast, when he could head out with Asammirr to keep training at his spot. In the meanwhile, he sat cross-legged on his bedroom’s floor, bowed his head, closed his eyes, cupped his hands in his lap, and expanded what of his wealth capacity he could through meditative stimulation.
When the smell of grilling meat filled the air, he knew it was time to go downstairs. He was the first to the table as usual.
After they ate, Asammirr and himself were off back to the village outskirts. His older brother did his thing with his friends, and Sorrinn did his thing with his practice target. From morning to dusk, he cast each of the four spells one after the next without rest. His aim then was to get a grasp on quickly evolving the spells into their advanced forms, so he only cast the spells with some form of amplification. Stone Shard, he always made denser, sturdier, and sharper. Aqua Shot, he always made a little larger and cold enough for the sphere’s exterior to form a thin, icy shell. He found the spell was able to reach greater distances that way without too great of an extra toll of wealth—a cheaper toll in lieu of amping the acceleration factor. Wind Burst, he always increased the width and height of the shockwave to encompass a broader area. Firebolt, he always made the flame minimally denser, allowing it to endure being cast forth at greater speeds without it flickering out before reaching the target.
As he promised, at the end of the day, Sorrinn cast the second-tier flame spell for his brother’s friends. He fired the bright crimson-orange ball straight into the sky, where it raced into the clouds dragging a dazzling tail behind it like a passing comet before fizzling out in the atmosphere. They erupted into hyped cheers after the matter, huddling around him as they drowned the boy in shoulder and back pats and praise.
For his humbleness’s sake, he played it off as nothing.
Sorrinn fell back into a daily routine of waking up, stimulating his wealth, breakfast, heading out with Asammirr, training till dusk, bathing, dinner, then sleep. His wealth continued diffusing itself through his mystic pathways even whilst he slumbered, it’d become so ingrained in his daily routine. Every day, he woke up able to execute his spells faster. Even on his two off-days with Orrillimmirr, he perfused his pathways as he practiced his writing on the slate board and did some practical reciting from the tome about fae-blessed insects, which was written in Elven Common.
Through all of the repetition across the last three weeks of the two-month period, he’d worked all four of the minor spells down to a cast window of a second below. At that point, repeated casts were only shaving decimals off of the second. He wondered what would happen when there were no seconds left to whittle away?
Sometime during the second week, he woke up in the morning to his entire family huddled in his bedroom. Apparently, it was his birthday—his fifth—from the way they all exclaimed “Happy fifth birthday!” the moment his eyes opened, nearly giving him a heart attack. He was left half-hiding behind his covers with petrified, round eyes for a minute before waking up enough to realize what was happening. He never recalled birthdays being a big deal; he didn’t even know when his birthday was—the latter edge of spring, apparently, on the twenty-third of May according to Orrillimmirr.
Yes, he found it strange that his father dated his birth in the month of May too. Why were the Elves’ calendar the same as Earth’s?
“May?” he questioned. “Why is it called May, Paba?”
“Only the Luminary knows, I’m afraid, little one. The dates are as the original Luminary of Clairvoyance scribed them so many eras ago. The significance behind the months’ titles or the names of the days were never passed down in the lores. Their names aren’t as crucial as the fact the Luminary’s calender remains an accurate indicator of The Sustainer’s Radiance fluctuation cycles to this day, I suppose.”
More and more questions. The original Luminary of Clairvoyance was dead, so he wouldn’t receive answers either.
When Sorrinn questioned what the fuss was about, he was informed that fifth birthdays were a big deal where his mother came from. Elves lived so long, it was typical to only celebrate every quarter of life, his father said, but Orrillimmirr and Asammirr were right there making an embarrassing ruckus with her to support her traditions. How nice.
Maeve surprised Sorrinn with a whole, sumptuous loaf of honey-glazed fruit bread downstairs and, drumroll, his very own wand!
According to her, wands were tools used to make casting spells more efficient.
That was too vague of a description which did the beauty of the tool’s machinations no justice, according to a certain sagely Elf. According to Orrillimmirr, they were delicate, fine tools carved of rare, wealth-dense wood procured from the depths of the Great Forests and hosting alchemy-refined magistones which absorbed ambient mana. Wands both acted as a catalyst of actualization, eliminating the need to physically perform gestures, and lessened the wealth demand of casting magic by balancing the bill with the energy it housed in its gem. His wand was of a richly brown, grainy wood that was carved with a spiraling pattern leading up to the tip, had a braided-leather grip, and a stunning rainbow quartz-like, spherical gemstone embedded into the base. Although, it was bigger for him than it wasn’t. Since creating it required exotic materials his father went through immense struggle to procure, Orrillimmirr constructed it for him to grow into.
Sorrinn told himself he was done crying. Nonetheless, staring at the wand in his little hands, inundated beneath his family’s love and support of his passions, he crumpled into shuddering tears of joy.
His mother’s wonderfully warm hand caressed his wet cheek. “What’s wrong, lovely? Do you not like it?”
He shook his head vehemently before rushing to his mother and hugging her tight. “No, I— I love it…” he sniffled and choked, voice quavering from emotion as he whined. “I’m just so happy you’re my family… I love you guys so much…”
Smiling, Maeve embraced him back. She shed a few tears herself. “I love you too, Sorrinn. I’m so happy and grateful you’re here with us.”
Asammirr hopped in to join the hug. “Yeah, you’re a cool little brother.”
“As long as your face continues to be able to smile, this life of mine will always bear unquantifiable meaning.” And last to join was Orrillimmirr.
Once the moment had passed, Sorrinn had a question: “So…” He scratched his chin. “Is Mama’s instrument a catalyst like a wand?”
Asammirr donned a pale face of dreading disbelief like he knew their father was about to start rambling again.
“Not at all,” Orrillimmirr chimed in right on cue. “A catalyst is a tool created through alchemy, infused with mystic energy in one or more parts, which executes some portion of the spell-casting process for the wielder once fed adequate mystic energy. For example, the pages of spell grimoires are enchanted to allow spells to be woven into the fibers and called upon at a moment’s notice in exchange for double the wealth taxation. Focal orbs are enchanted to draw in ambient mystic energy to increase the potency of the spells channeled through it, multiplying their effects. Your wand decreases the demand for spell-casting by supplementing the process with external energy. Staves are often complex tools outfitted with multiple catalysts to allow multiple functions to occur simultaneously in one vessel. Your mother is still executing all of the processes manually. The instrument she plays can more be likened to being an extension of her body rather than a catalyst.”
“What your papa said,” Maeve added.
Asammirr huffed in the background. “Papa please. Summarize. Sixty words or less. We talked about this.”
Sorrinn didn’t know what the fuss was about. He rather enjoyed their father’s tendency of vomiting out worldbuilding whenever convenient. There wasn’t any Google there; Orrillimmirr the All-knowing was the next best thing. It was because of their father dropping random, unsolicited knowledge that he knew hyacinth sap and milk from a stimulated dayglow flower could be combined with a generous splash of powdered hag’s rose to create an excellent skin moisturizer that also doubled as a powerful sunblock. Did he know what any of those ingredients were or where to find them? No. But, the fact withstood, he knew.
Orrillimirr teasingly smiled in that charming yet subtle, kind of smug way only an Elf could. “I’ll have you know your brother quite appreciates my wisdom, Asammirr. You’re always welcome to discard my words from your mind if you find them so harrowing and tolling on the mind.”
“I already have.”
“Then, by that logic, you have no reason to complain, now do you?” Orrillimmirr handsomely chuckled.
It took a second for it to set in. “Wait… “ Asammirr’s eyes narrowed. His head flicked and turned like a dog honing in on a sound. “No— Hey, no fair, Papa! You tricked me!”
“And there shall come a day when you are the one fooling me, and I shall be the one bemoaning as you are now.”
Cute.
Sorrinn was sure to store the wand in his inventory when he had the chance.
That day, they embarked on an outing as a family to The Giving Tree and had a picnic beneath its shade. They enjoyed each other’s company and found fun in the simple things. Even their parents got up, joining the brothers in their running around. That day was one which he would always remember and cherish.
Soon, the remaining few weeks of the two months had passed in what felt like a blink. Sorrinn’s unyielding effort resulted in [Mystic Manipulation] leveling up not once but twice. [Arcane Absorptive] had leveled up once in the middle of the night while he slept during the fourth day of the second week. He was met by the System notification when he woke up. [Thought Processing] leveled during one of his lessons with his father, and [Enigmatic Resonation] leveled up during the second week of his morning wealth stimulation sessions. Unfortunately, he hadn’t had the time to get around to leveling [Ethereal Surge] with spell-training eating all of his time. Maintaining it for even a short period was so draining, and since all of his other passive skills were leveling up through his weekly routine, he ended up having no need to do so.
*Bing* *Bing* *Bing* *Bing* *Bing* *Bing*
[+5! Arcana has increased to 45!]
[+1! Intelligence has increased to 59!]
[+3! Wisdom has increased to 49!]
[+2! Dexterity has increased to 21!]
[Ascension Trial: Level up any two of your skills has been completed!]
[Congratulations, Sorrinn Songscribe, you have reached Level 4! You have received the following as a reward: +3 Essence of Ascension, +5 Essence of Cultivation.]
He dumped his three EoA into Arcana, purchased [Focus] from the Ascendance Shop, and checked the Log for his next trial.
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A new trial has descended…
{Trials of the Ascendant}
[Ascension Task]: Level any active skill to Level 3. (0/3)
[Completion Reward]: Level +1
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He couldn’t help feeling like The System was calling him out for never getting around to [Ethereal Surge]. Touche.
He was cool with it. The way The System aligned his ascension tasks with his own personal goals was nice.
Twas the night before he was supposed to return to Lua’s house to demonstrate the results of his effort. So many days of hurling spells at that godforsaken rock. He was as proud of himself as he was haggard. Forget Maeve; he was the one working himself like a mandilleer. But it was all worth something, and he wasn’t sacrificing anything for it. He wouldn’t look back at that moment in twenty years and lament over the austerity of his devotion to his practice. He did feel like he was pressing himself too hard against the whetstone, nonetheless. He was afraid of not doing enough while he was young and missing out later on; that was just his fear talking. Since he was satisfied with how he handled Lua’s task, perhaps he’d approach the arts with less zealous intensity from then onward and allow him the liberty to be lazy or do typical kid stuff.
That sounded nice. Thinking about the peaceful days awaiting, he yawned, drifting off to a sound sleep.