I spent the following day regenerating with a book. In the afternoon, it rained for a while and chased us inside. The cabin was too claustrophobic, so I looked for a solution when the rain stopped. My regular tents were too light and would blow away, the glamping tent was too big for the deck, and my camper was big enough for one person and smaller than the cabin.
I finally took one of my medium tents, asked Ro for permission to hammer a few nails into the deck, secured the lines to the nails, used some of the modular bamboo flooring of the glamping tent to separate us from the wet deck, and covered the whole thing with a carpet. It was much better; the space inside was double, and because it was a tent and not a small room with a tiny window, the feeling inside was much more open. The only downside was that I couldn’t set the poles for the canopy, so we could either sit inside when it rained or get wet.
Ro and his boys continuously came around to see what I was doing, and when I finished setting up the tent, they walked around it and admired it.
Ro asked, examining the tent closely, “Where did you get this, and how much did it cost?”
“I’m from the islands in the south, and I got it there.” I appraised the tent, running my hand over the sturdy material, and added, “It costs 37 gold.”
He whistled in admiration, his eyes widening. “Expensive.”
“Yes, but worth the price,” I replied, nodding.
“Maybe to some, too rich for us,” he remarked, scratching his head thoughtfully. He added, “You can examine the barrel if you want.”
“Thanks,” I said, giving him a grateful smile.
I went to examine the barrel, and he followed me. I didn’t feel like carrying the barrel to empty it overboard, so I cast Clean and Purify on the water just in case and started filling empty water bottles. When I reached the bottom, I stuck my hand inside and stored the rest in one of my water containers. Ro kept watching me through the entire process. I guessed he was worried about his barrel.
I carried it out to examine it; the pantry was too small. I examined it from the outside again, but still found nothing. I cast my light ball and studied it thoroughly inside; there was also nothing—no runes, no magic script, nothing.
I sent my mana into it and tried to locate the magic. It took me a while. I was searching in the barrel’s wood, but the magic was in the metal rings inside the barrel, similar to the metal rings that held it together. The magic had a “pure” feel to it. I cast my Purify spell and sensed its flavor. It was exactly the same spell; there was no difference in the flavor.
I returned the barrel to the pantry and filled it with water bottles. At this point, Ro relaxed and left me alone. After the tenth bottle, I had enough and summoned the water from one of my water tanks.
I misjudged the water quantity, and a lot of water overflowed on the floor.
Oops!
I took a duvet to soak it up; it was the most absorbent thing I had. Even after soaking the duvet, there was still water. I took out my towels to clean the rest and was happy that Ro had left. I cleaned the duvet and towels but knew that the Clean spell only cleans dirt. For some strange and inexplicable reason, water did not count as dirt, even if it soaked inconvenient things. I started channeling Heat into the duvet to dry it, but after a second, steam rose from it, so I stopped immediately. I didn’t want to turn the pantry into a sauna.
I stored the wet things, went to the railing, squeezed all the water out of the duvet and towels, hung them up to dry, and tied them with rope so they wouldn’t fly away. Ro eyed me suspiciously, went into the deckhouse, but said nothing when he came out.
I experimented with what I learned. Since the magic was in metal rings, I took out a cooking knife, cast Purify on it, and examined it with my mana—nothing. It was clean but didn’t have any magic. I cast the spell again and again, without success. I had an idea and channeled Restore, split my mind, and cast Purify simultaneously. The Restore cost me only 20 mana. The knife was sharper and squeaky clean, but still had no magic.
I thought about it for a long time but was out of ideas. It was dark already, so I decided to sleep on it. We ate dinner and went to bed in the tent. It was much more pleasant.
The next day, I braved the Archive again; maybe I could find the answer.
While scrolling, I opened the Archive and checked the posts I was interested in. The discussion about Mend vs. Restore finished without a conclusion. In the post about the unique Qualities, I now had 173 people calling me a liar, and my lasagna post had some odd comments. I thought the blue guy who wrote the information about Earth wrote one of them.
I continued searching for TWO FULL DAYS! To get past it all, I had to scroll through an unbelievable amount of crap. Travelers are a bored and chatty bunch. Finally, in an article full of self-patting on the back about enchanting and magical items creation, I found the following paragraph with the following comment:
The author's content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.
Tr. NHB
Instead of using the elegant solution of runes, those barbarians in the low-mana worlds still use the archaic method of melting various materials, such as glass or metal, and casting spells on them repeatedly to imbed the spell in the item. This method is cumbersome and takes an ungodly amount of mana; the spell quality depends on the level the mage progressed it, and it fades over time.
Tr. KI
You forgot to mention that runes also wear off over time or with heavy use, and need an enchanter to renew them. So, stop being such a blown-up toad. If they don’t have runes or enchanter classes, that’s a brilliant solution.
I experimented and started thinking of a solution to melt some metal. I read once that aluminum’s melting point was much lower than iron, so I removed my cast iron potjie pot, put a small aluminum pot inside, and started channeling Heat. After a while, I felt lightheaded. I checked my mana: 120/7200, and I saw that the aluminum pot had become misshapen but had not melted. I stored the whole thing quickly so I wouldn’t lose the heat I already channeled and sat down to regenerate.
It took me three whole days to regenerate to full mana. By the second day, we reached the tributary, and Jul and Rin navigated us into it with the oars. I just sat, regenerated, and enjoyed the view. The pristine wilderness around us was a sight to behold, especially in the early spring. The trees had new green leaves, and wildflowers dotted the riverbanks. Birds sang in the branches overhead, their melodies blending with the gentle splash of the oars in the water. Occasionally, a deer or other woodland creature would emerge from the underbrush to drink from the river, only to dart back into the foliage at the sight of our boat.
Stretch napped most of the time, his bushy tail flicking occasionally in his dreams. When he was awake, he wanted petting and ear scratching, leaning into my hand with a contented sigh. I asked him how he felt about a smaller boat and got a short tail wag and a feeling of mild approval. The tranquility of the moment, combined with the serene beauty of the untouched landscape, made the slow regeneration of my mana a peaceful experience.
After I regenerated fully, I continued my melting process. It took me over 4,500 mana to melt the damn thing, but finally, it was in liquid form. Repeatedly casting Purify on it, I waited until it cooled and solidified. I checked with my mana, and the spell was inside the metal.
YES!
I tied a rope to a bucket, lowered the bucket into the river, scooped some water, and dropped the aluminum blob inside. I sat there monitoring the water with my mana and felt no change.
Maybe it needs more time?
After waiting over an hour, I rechecked the water—still no change. After thinking about it for a while, I got an idea. With a finger, I touched the blob and infused it with mana. I cast nothing; I channeled mana and monitored the water. In less than two seconds, it purified the water. It was a partial success. I created a magical item that channeled a spell, but the barrel did it automatically.
What am I missing?
I returned to the barrel, touched it, and examined the metal rings with my mana. Initially, I could feel only the Purify spell; it was obvious to me from familiarity, but slowly, I distinguished between other types of mana with different flavors. One was “absorption” or “suction,” and the other one was “release.”
I examined the absorption for a few hours, with Ro checking on me to ensure his barrel was safe until I felt I “knew” the flavor. Then I went out and tried to channel my mana with that flavor. I had to return to the barrel repeatedly to get the nuances. After a while, I had to give up. I felt completely drained.
The next day, I continued to examine the barrel until I had it. It was an exact duplicate. I cast a spell with this flavor of mana and got the red light.
You have learned the spell [Absorb Mana]
Woo Hoo!
I resisted the urge to get up and dance, opting instead to pump my fist.
Despite casting the spell a few times in the air, I didn’t feel any difference. I got an idea and opened my Profile to see my mana and cast it on myself. The Absorb cost me ten mana, and my mana ticked up fast without active regeneration. After two minutes, I felt a slight itching in the mana channels in my arms and feet. The itching got worse and worse, and by the fourth minute, it became pins and needles. I had no idea how to stop a cast spell, only a channeled one. The spell ended after five minutes, relieving my worry.
I inspected my mana channels, and they appeared to be fine, but there was another surprise in store for me. When I examined my mana system on Earth, the three orbs of energy in my body were the same size. Now, the one behind my diaphragm was the biggest, about 20% bigger than its original size. The one in my abdomen was the next in size and about 10-15% bigger, and the one in my head looked the same. I thought about it briefly, and it made sense; my mana increased, so the orbs grew. What made little sense was that I STILL didn’t know how my mana grew.
I activated my Luck again, still in the same direction, but the feeling of “take your time” was gone. Good—answers were on the horizon.
I stopped today to enjoy my achievement and spend time with Stretch.
After lunch, I took my guitar out and sang quietly with Stretch howl-singing. I even gave him a beer. I ignored him lately during my experimentation; he deserved some attention.
Jul approached and asked shyly, “Can I sit and listen to the music, or do you want me to leave?”
“Please join us; I’ll even teach you a song.”
I taught him the song Sailing Away, which I translated, and he loved it. Rin joined us at some point, and I played the song a few times until they learned it.
I searched in my songbooks for another sailing song and found “Boat on the River” by Styx, which perfectly fit the situation. I translated the song while learning the chords, and they learned it with me. Stretch was our backup singer, and we had a lot of fun.
“Take me back to my boat, on the river
I need to go down, I need to come down...”
I invited them for dinner, took out three precious pasta dishes, and offered them beers. They looked old enough. Stretch tried to weasel another beer from me, but I wasn’t having it. He had to settle for a tomahawk steak and looked mollified.
Ro came over and told Jul, “You had a good rest; go replace me on the helm.”
Jul thanked me and left, and I told Ro, “Please join me for dinner.”
I took out another pasta dish and a beer. He thanked me, and we sat quietly, enjoying the evening and the beer.