“You say that the Will of Mana guides you, protects you, loves you. You are delusional. If you could hear it, you would be saying very different things about the blessings of Mana.” - Cin Coperus, speaking to Pope Ignis IV, in the year 642 A.C.
The lackluster portions were a far cry from what I was used to at the academy. I sighed to myself, knowing that the next three months would be marked
with unceasing hunger. Looking around the dining room, I saw that it was both familiar and different. The room was cleaner, the leak in the roof had
been fixed, and although small, the portions were larger now then they had been before I left. Noticing my curious gaze, Madam Nurma said, “After you
were accepted into the academy, the Church started sending more funds. Thanks to that, I’ve been able to fix up the place a bit.” “Yeah, Makus. Things
have gotten a lot better since you left.” Deram said from my left. I stared at him, and he looked back with a cheeky smile. “Deram, don’t say things like
that. Makus, we’re glad to have you back.” Madam Nurma admonished. I smiled. “I’m glad to be back.” “What’s the academy like, Makus?” Zewin
asked. I leaned back in my rickety chair, and said in the storytelling voice that the younger ones loved, “The academy is a lot bigger than any building
here in Tryton.” “Even bigger than the church?” Oslo, the youngest asked. ‘He’s six now.’ I thought, a bit sad that I had missed his birthday. “Even bigger
than the church.” I confirmed. “Wow.” He said with wonder. Afterall, the church here was the biggest building he had ever seen. “The assembly hall
alone is large enough that everyone here in town could fit inside comfortably. Also, the food is a lot better than here.” I was about to start describing just
how much better the food was at the academy than here at the orphanage when I felt Madam Nurma glaring at me. Hastily, I changed the topic.
“There’s also a library, with a lot of books about all sorts of things. They even have spell books in there.” “Can you teach me spells?” Deram interrupted
me. I shook my head. “You haven’t even undergone the First Baptism yet. How are you supposed to learn spells without any mana?” He looked
dejected. Although most people underwent the First Baptism between the ages of nine and fourteen, Deram, who was twelve, was already feeling a bit
insecure that he hadn’t gone through it yet. Which I thought was silly, after all, I didn’t go through my First Baptism until I was thirteen. I ruffled his hair.
“Stop being so down. I’ll teach you a spell once you go through your First Baptism, alright?” He looked at me excitedly. “Really?” I nodded. “Really.”
Because the children kept asking me questions about the academy, I wasn’t able to go to bed until very late in the night. Normally, Madam Nurma would
enforce a strict nine o’clock bedtime, but since I had just gotten back and everyone was celebrating, she let us stay up late. ‘What a day.’ I thought to
myself as I fell into my old, slightly too small cot. It was good to be home.
“Can’t you go a bit easier on me?” I panted in exhaustion. Master smiled at me. “This is me going easy on you.” He said, clearly amused by my
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struggle. It had been a week since the God of Death had taken me as his disciple, and during that time I had undergone countless hellish hours of
training my Dominion. The feeling of having my mana forcefully taken away from me was not a pleasant one. And worst of all, thanks to master
artificially increasing the ambient mana in the air, I couldn’t even take a break as I waited for my mana core to replenish. “Enough lying there. Let's go
again.” I sighed, and stood up. Grasping my sword tightly, I coated it in an azure shine, focusing intensely as I tried to maintain control of it. My mana
began to waver, as bits and pieces of it flew off of my sword and coalesced into an orb on my master's palm. “Come on, Corin. Focus.” He said. I gritted
my teeth, desperately trying to maintain the shape of my mana coating my sword. But it was pointless. More and more of it was ripped away from me,
an unpleasant feeling that I couldn’t quite describe growing, until, with a gasp, all of the remaining mana abandoned me and joined the orb my master
was holding. I fell to my knees, a strange sense of…emptiness present in my entire body. “Let's take a little break.” Master said. I looked up at him,
surprised and grateful, until he continued. “Practice your swordplay.” I groaned, but complied. Standing up, I began making practice swings through the
air, with master correcting me whenever I did something wrong. This had been my life for the past week. Practicing my swordsmanship, ironing out the
bad habits that I had built up over the years whenever I was too tired to continue “playing tug of war” as my master called it, or “being tortured” as I
called it. “Your blade is a bit wobbly.” Master said as I made yet another swing. Tightening my grasp, I tried to keep my sword straight as I made another
cut through the air. “Good.” He said. I smiled slightly, but that smile was quickly wiped off my face when he said “Do another one thousand swings just
like that one.”
“That’s enough for today.” Master said after I yet again failed to maintain control of the mana coating my sword. I nodded. “Do you mind if I ask you
something?” I questioned, before he could disappear like he normally did. He raised an eyebrow, but nodded. “Go ahead.” I had countless questions for
the man in front of me, so when I opened my mouth I just blurted out the first one that came to mind. “Why do you look like that?” He stared at me
deadpan. I shivered. Although a week of interacting with him had led to most of my lingering fear from our first meeting die away, I could still remember
that horrifying presence. “That’s a bit rude, isn’t it?” He asked rhetorically. “You know what I mean.” I said. He sat down on a log. “The reason I look like
a fourteen year old child is because that’s how old I was when I became immortal.” He explained. “So you really are immortal?” I asked. Although mana
could extend someone's life, immortality was widely known to be impossible. Cin Coperus nodded. “I can still be killed, but I don’t age. I don’t need to
eat or drink either, unlike other ‘Gods.’ Though I still do from time to time, it isn’t necessary for my survival.” “How did you become immortal?” I asked.
Eternal life was, after all, the desire of all mortals. He grinned at my question. “Don’t you want to become one with mana and experience paradise after
you die?” Master asked in a teasing tone. I shook my head. “Although that sounds all nice and lovely, I would rather be alive. Besides, I have learned
not to trust the Church and its teachings.” The smile slid off of his face, replaced with a look of grim seriousness. “You are right. Becoming one with
mana is not a paradise at all.” The smile returned. “Becoming immortal is quite easy, you know. All you have to do is die and then walk it off.” I stared at
him. “What? I’m not kidding.” He said. “That seems counterintuitive.” I said. He nodded. “It is rather strange. Don’t worry, I’ll guide you through the
process when the time comes.” “You will?” I asked in surprise. “I will.” He confirmed, before saying, “Well, I’ve got to get going now. See ya!” and
vanishing. I sighed, and began walking back to the castle, my head filled with countless swirling thoughts. ‘Becoming one with mana isn’t a paradise?
Becoming immortal requires dying? He will guide me to becoming immortal?’ That last thought, in particular, filled me with conflicting emotions. On the
one hand, I was incredibly giddy and excited at the prospect of gaining eternal life. Who wouldn’t be? But on the other hand, I was confused as to why
he would do such a thing. ‘Why did he take me as his disciple? Why is he teaching me how to become stronger? Why would he help me become
immortal?’ I didn’t know. The God of Death had always been a rather enigmatic figure, but after getting to know him a bit he seemed even harder to
understand. I had no idea why he did the things he did. No one did. Clenching my aching hands, I thought ‘It doesn’t matter. So long as I get stronger,
that’s all that matters.’