A knock on the door made Grant start, shaking him out of his slumber. He looked around, eyes squinted against the harsh morning light blazing through his windows, to see Kyra standing at his open door.
“Man, you really passed out,” she said, smirking at the sight of his still-clothed body.
He sat up, yawning widely. As he came fully awake, the memories of his conversation with Ki came flooding into his mind, accompanied by a new sensation, unlike anything he had experienced before. He felt as though a current was running through him, making all the hairs on his body stand on end. His pulse thrummed powerfully, reverberating throughout his body, each beat of his heart flooding his cells with energy, filling him with power, with strength. The world was different, as if he was seeing through new eyes, or as though a layer of reality had been swept aside, and he could now see what had been hidden from his normal eyes. Veins of power pulsed through the walls of his house, appearing to his eyes as thin tendrils of vibrant red light, undulating slowly. He could sense that the power contained within the house was similar to the energy that was filling his body, but distinct. Looking at Kyra, he saw a faint silvery shimmer in the air around her, and he could even sense a similar well of power emanating from within her, albeit one that paled into insignificance compared to the depth of his own, newly acquired power.
“You okay?” Kyra asked.
Grant looked at her blankly for a second, his mind still marvelling at and trying to process what he was now seeing and feeling, before remembering he was meant to be trying to not draw attention to himself. “Sorry,” he said, attempting to quell the rush he felt as power swirled within him, “I just got disorientated for a second. I thought I’d be in my room, back on Earth.”
Kyra nodded sympathetically. “Yeah, the first few days are the hardest,” she said, walking over to him. “But don’t worry, you’re handling it much better than most.” She dropped the clothes bag that Bernhard had given him onto the bed next to him. “Here, you left this downstairs. Get dressed and meet me at Maya’s. We’ll eat, then I’ll take you to Fyodor so we can start training.”
Grant got up from his bed, stretching out the kinks that had accumulated as a consequence of literally collapsing into bed. “Sure, sounds good. I’ll be a bit, I’m going to shower first.”
“Good idea. I’ll see you there.”
She left, and Grant stumbled sleepily across the hall to the bathroom he had been shown yesterday. Only once he was there did he begin to wonder about plumbing and how they heated the water, before remembering he was in a wax house and had a magical being living in his head. If the Romans could invent plumbing, it was certainly not beyond the powers of the Forsaken.
He turned the tap on, shedding his clothes and gratefully stepping under the flow of scalding hot water. He closed his eyes and felt the water spill over him. While he could tell the water was as hot as any shower he’d taken, the warmth was somehow oddly muted, which he realised after a few seconds must be the temperature resistance that Kyra had hinted at yesterday, on the snowy plain. The pleasant heat of the water was further overshadowed by the odd warmth that emanated from his core as his power washed over and through him.
Not bad, is it? came Ki’s voice.
Grant jumped, slipping on the wet floor a little before righting himself. Jesus, he said to Ki in his mind, don’t startle me like that. Although… I’m guessing that slipping and breaking my neck in the shower isn’t really a worry anymore, is it?
Ki laughed. No, it is not. Not unless you’re showering at the top of a mountain, and even then you would most likely survive the fall. The others, maybe not, but you would be untroubled now.
Grant nodded slowly. He could tell, in the same way he was able to in his mind last night, that Ki spoke the truth. There was a clarity to his words, a tone that resonated with him, that he inherently understood indicated that the Nu- Source, inside his head, was not lying to him.
So this power, he said, this is the result of you slitting your wrist open? How does that work exactly? Your blood empowers me?
No, no, nothing so morbid, Ki said, amused. Remember, I have no physical form. I have no blood to spill. It is simply as I mentioned last night - visual metaphors are a powerful tool for your mind. Opening myself up and granting you my power was a purely mental effort, however your mind - and mine also, in a way - interpreted it in a way that would bring more clarity to the idea. For since I have no physical form, but am instead pure energy, that force does indeed represent my blood, in a roundabout way.
Grant thought about this for a moment, before shrugging and accepting the concept despite not fully understanding. Well, whatever you did, I feel great. I can tell I’m packed to the brim. I feel like I could climb a mountain and run a marathon while slinging fireballs all around me.
You probably could, frankly. But, despite the power at your disposal, remember that training is key. The other Numen and our enemy have had centuries to not only build up their power to rival ours, but more importantly, to master the use of it. You are going to have to work very hard to get to a point where they pose no danger to us.
Grant grinned. Oh no, he said sarcastically, I’m going to have to practise with my magic so I can become uber powerful? What an awful fate!
Well, I hope you continue to feel that way as the weeks turn into months, or years.
Grant shrugged and grabbed the bar of soap nearby and began washing himself. I think I will. I mean… I have magic. It’s literally a dream come true.
Excellent, said Ki, satisfied. I am happy to help you achieve your dreams.
Grant grinned and continued cleaning himself before a thought occurred to him. Hang on, didn’t you want to not talk until I can guard against intrusions? Should we be talking to each other?
Do not fear, Ki said. Telepathy, as with many skills, usually requires eye contact. While it is near certain that others in town could circumnavigate this requirement, they will not be able to do so while also penetrating the walls of your new house. There is too much energy imbued in every inch of this place, energy that will prevent any unwanted eavesdroppers.
Grant let out a soft “Ah” of understanding. That makes sense. I saw that, actually. This whole house is like a living thing, with magic as its blood. Kinda freaky to see, honestly.
Indeed. You now have a glimpse of what it is like to see the world as my kind do. It can be rather beautiful. But, more importantly, useful. Your new sight is an ability that you will not share with any of the other Forsaken - indeed, you may be the first human in existence to be able to see magic. A side effect of not being a host, but a partner. Not something I knew would happen, to be frank, though I am hardly displeased. It will serve you well in your goals. Regardless, do not be lulled into negligence by the fact your house is imbued with power - there are limits to what it can withstand, and, more importantly, anything we discuss will still be able to be recalled at a later date by any who try to enter your mind, until we manage to guard it. So hurry up, and get to your training. But remember, they will expect you to be weak. Use the barest thread of power, nothing more
Grant nodded in agreement, and focused on enjoying the rest of his shower.
Half an hour later, Grant opened the door to Maya’s restaurant. It had taken him longer than it should have to get there, as he was constantly getting distracted by the sights now available to him. Every building in town was magically imbued, yet each was unique in how the magic within them manifested to his gaze, with their own colour and appearance, from his pulsing veins to the slow, simmering flames that now flickered in the walls of Maya’s building. Shoving the distractions from his mind with some effort, he saw Kyra sitting in a booth near the corner, laughing along with the two other people seated with her. One of them he recognised from yesterday, the man in the dress, Lei. Today he was wearing a loose, flowing sky-blue blouse and dark slacks. The other was unfamiliar, a short, curvy Asian woman dressed in very revealing short shorts and crop top, highlighting her considerable assets. The sensual display was offset… or heightened, he supposed, depending on your personal appetites, by the presence of a number of daggers strapped to her thighs, a shortsword hanging from her waist and a crossbow slung across her back. Her hair was tied back in a no-nonsense ponytail, and she had several pale white scars, including one that ran down the middle of her collarbone that Grant found particularly intriguing.
Grant approached them, nodding to Kyra and holding his hand out to the other two.
“Hi,” he said, “we haven’t been introduced yet. I’m Grant Summers.”
They exchanged grins, and Lei shook his hand. “Nice to meet you,” he said in a smooth baritone. “I’m Lei. Lei Kamalanai.”
The woman shook his hand in turn. “Tamiko Kimura. Pleasure.” Despite the translation spell, he heard a fairly strong Japanese accent in her words.
“Nice to meet you both,” he said, sliding into the booth next to Kyra.
“You too,” said Tamiko, looking him up and down. “Always nice to meet someone new here. Well, except for the reason that there is someone new.”
A shadow crossed the faces of the three Forsaken, and Lei bowed his head a little.
Grant was spared the awkwardness of responding by Maya approaching their table. After asking for (ordering seemed like too strong a word considering the environment) bacon and eggs, he looked over at his tablemates.
“Sorry, don’t let me interrupt what you were saying,” he said, gesturing for them to continue. “It seemed funny.”
Kyra shrugged. “Eh, not that funny. Plus you’d have to have met some of our neighbours to really get it.”
Grant raised an eyebrow questioningly. “Neighbours?” he asked.
Lei grinned. “Yeah, that’s what we call them. The centaurs, the tengu, the merpeople. Our trading partners and allies. They’re not our next-door neighbours though, they live a few doors down.”
Grant looked at him blankly, unsure if he was having a prank played on him, especially with the phrasing of the last sentence.
Tamiko rolled her eyes. “He’s messing with you, a little. But yes, those beings exist. And yes, they’re friendly - mostly. Not everything about your new world is doom and gloom. You’ll see many, many wonders as the years go on.”
Grant shook his head slowly. “I mean, I remember Kyra mentioned centaurs before, but it didn’t occur to me until just now that they could talk and think and be… people.”
Kyra and Tamiko exchanged glances. “Well,” Kyra said slowly, “I wouldn’t go as far as to call them people. They’re not mindless monsters, no, but they’re also definitely not human, no matter what they look like. They have their own agendas and traditions and… well, let’s just say that if we were normal humans instead of what we are, they probably wouldn’t bother talking to us. They would kill or enslave any of us that they came across. Since we can fight back, however, they recognise that it’s easier to cooperate than wage war. But don’t ever trust them unconditionally.”
Grant sighed and nodded. “That’s a shame,” he said sadly, “but I get it. I suppose that’s better than everything being hostile at least.”
Lei thumped the table gently. “Indeed! A good attitude to keep in mind. Always important to try and find the silver lining in this place. Keeps you from going mad.”
Tamiko nodded, then glanced out the window. “I best be off,” she said, sliding past Lei and adjusting her arsenal as she stood up, “I don’t want Bukola to give me another lashing for being late again. Nice to meet you Grant. When you’re more settled, come find me. It’s been too long since I’ve had fresh blood.” She winked and strode off, hips swaying perhaps a little more than was strictly necessary. Grant felt it would be rude not to notice the effort.
Kyra and Lei laughed.
“Don’t worry,” said Lei, helping himself to the scraps Tamiko had left on her plate, “she won’t hurt you too bad. She does love training a new boy-toy, though.”
Kyra nodded emphatically. “I remember how disappointed she was when I arrived and was a girl,” she said, chuckling. “I mean, she played it for a laugh, but I could tell she was a little bit sad.”
Grant looked back and forth, again uncertain how to respond. “Uhhhhh…” he began. He was saved yet again from the awkwardness by Maya arriving with his food. Silently thanking her for stopping him making a fool of himself, he quickly busied himself with shovelling the meal into his mouth.
Lei chuckled. “Don’t worry Grant, you’ll get used to it. Tamiko is definitely the most aggressive person here, but if you’re not interested, just tell her. If you are though, well…” He winked.
Grant nodded, mouth full of eggs. “‘Ank ‘oo,” he managed.
“You’re welcome,” Lei said, amusement clear in his face. He glanced out the window and sighed. “Well, I best be off also. See you two later, and Grant, good luck with your training. You’ll do great, I’m sure.”
Now that it was just the two of them, Kyra swapped to the other side of the booth and looked at Grant seriously. “Truly, Grant, if anyone makes you uncomfortable, just tell them so,” she said earnestly. “Stopping negative feelings from festering is a key part of making this community work. We’ve been lucky enough to avoid any serious conflicts in the entire time I’ve been here, but we can’t let resentments grow.”
Grant nodded his understanding. “Don’t worry, she didn’t make me uncomfortable exactly. I just wasn’t expecting it, and I thought maybe she was having a laugh at my expense. You know, picking on the new guy, a bit of hazing.”
Kyra laughed. “No, no, she was definitely not joking. She’ll be looking to jump your bones as soon as possible. Like I said yesterday, we’re a pretty liberated group. Amazing what being away from civilization and discovering abilities that upend all religions and political powers can do for a person.” She grinned at him.
Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.
Grant laughed obligingly, then focused on finishing up his meal, trying not to dwell on Tamiko’s enticing walk.
After they were done eating, Kyra led Grant across town to Fyodor’s house, the vast, hollow tree. Fyodor was standing on the doorstep, dressed plainly in linen trousers and shirt. He smiled enthusiastically as they approached.
“Well then!” he said, studying Grant closely. “I have been informed by our esteemed leaders that some unusual behaviour has been displayed by our dashing newcomer. I’m quite excited! Whether or not you possess a new Source, I’m sure any discrepancy will provide an exciting new avenue of study for the following decades.”
Grant was uncertain how he felt about being an object of study, especially since he already knew he was different, but thought it best not to upset the apple cart on his first day here, so he simply nodded and smiled. “I’m excited too! I mean, I dunno about Sources and all that, but given some of the shit I saw Kyra do yesterday, I’m super keen to see what I’m capable of.”
Fyodor’s smile grew. “Wonderful!” he exclaimed, rubbing his hands together in delight. “Follow me then, we’ve got a bit of a hike.”
He led the two of them away from town, far past the hill on which the solitary door in and out of Sanctuary was situated. Grant was grateful that he was a fairly fit person, for after half an hour they came to a deep valley, a river winding its way through the bottom. There was a metal stairway jammed into the side of the rocky cliff, just like the snowy plateau they had travelled across yesterday. They descended the winding staircase, eventually stepping off onto the grassy expanse at the bottom, next to an array of objects that Grant assumed were for his training. There was what looked like a straw-stuffed training dummy, complete with mock metal armour, along with logs of wood, a metal column ten feet tall and wide as a tree trunk rising from the ground, bolts of cloth, a variety of weapons from bows to daggers to clubs, and dozens of mismatched odds and ends.
Fyodor clapped his hands. “Well then,” he said, facing Grant, “let us begin. Ignore most of this gear - external application will come later. First, we must focus on internal improvements. Now, according to Kyra’s report, you already tried to access your Source yesterday, no?”
Grant nodded. “Yeah, and it gave me a hell of a headache. Didn’t really make me eager to repeat the experience.”
Fyodor laughed. “Yes, overdrawing is a painful truth for us. I imagine you slept quite a while after such an experience. But do not fear! You have been with us for long enough now that you should have quite a reservoir to draw from, especially after a good night's rest. The first week or so, your power will grow rapidly as you fully… acclimatise, I suppose, to your new world. After that, it will slowly grow and grow over, we hope, the many centuries we will spend together!”
Grant nodded along with him. “No offence, but I’m hoping we can get home before too many centuries have passed.”
Fyodor laughed more strongly, his deep voice echoing off the canyon walls. “Yes! Wonderful! Never lose hope, yes indeed. I hope this too, my friend. However, until we manage to do so, it is vital that you are knowledgeable and adept in your power and its applications. So, to begin.” He gestured Grant over to the metal column. “First, internal application. Forgive me if I get too technical in some areas, but I will try to be concise.” He cleared his throat before continuing. “Your Source naturally instils you with remarkable abilities. We are stronger, faster and hardier than any normal human being. However, these attributes can be improved even further, by performing what we call Imbuing. Before we get to that, though, a demonstration.” He swept a hand towards the column, “I would like you to punch this. As hard as you can, if you please.”
Grant stared at him, then the metal column in front of him, then at Kyra. She simply smiled at him and made a ‘go ahead’ gesture. Grant thought about it for a second longer, then shrugged. May as well test the limits, he thought, struggling to not end the thought with ‘and break through’. He took a deep breath, drew back his hand, made a fist, and swung with all his might at the column. At the last second, just before he made contact, he remembered that he had far more power than any of the other Forsaken, and might therefore be far stronger than he should be, and could give himself away instantly if he hit with his full force. He panicked, and tried to pull his punch, but his momentum was carrying him forward too much. Right before he made impact, he managed to twist his wrist to deflect the force at an angle instead of striking straight on, and slowed down his swing just enough so he struck with less force than he otherwise would have. He ended up barely actually punching the metal and instead merely grazing it with his knuckles. However, despite barely touching the column, there was a deafening clang as his knuckles made contact, and the metal dented slightly. The entire structure vibrated like a massive tuning fork, sending a deep, ringing sound reverberating though the air. The last second panicking and attempted adjustments threw him off balance, and Grant stumbled forward, arms cartwheeling, before his foot caught the edge of the column and he tripped, momentum twisting him around as he fell onto his backside facing the opposite direction he had started in. There was a pause as the gong-like sound faded from the air, before Kyra and Fyodor started laughing at him, deep belly laughs rolling out over the field. Grant blushed as he got to his feet and brushed himself off.
“I, uh, I think,” Fyodor stammered, wiping a tear from his eye, “I think it may be safe to say that you have never thrown a punch before, no?”
Grant nodded, embarrassment warring with relief over having successfully diverted their attention away from any unusual strength he might have shown. Given that he had ended up denting the solid metal with barely a fraction of his actual power, Grant felt certain that had he punched the column full-force, the results would have been a lot more… dramatic.
“Uhh, no,” he said sheepishly, “I really haven’t. And, well… I guess I was slightly nervous about hurting my hand or something, so I didn’t really commit properly.”
Fyodor’s laugh slowly died down, and he wiped another tear from his eye as he nodded. “Perfectly understandable,” he said, echoes of laughter still present in his voice, “but unwarranted, I assure you. You will not hurt yourself. After all, your knuckles are perfectly fine, no?”
Grant looked down at his hand, flexing and stretching it, considering. “No, I guess not. Should I, uhh, go again?”
“No, no,” said Fyodor, waving a hand dismissively, “I think that is a sufficient example of your new strength. Your hand is unharmed, and I am sure you noticed that you struck with far more power than a human, despite your… uh… unique fighting style.”
Kyra stifled a giggle behind him.
Grant rolled his eyes, playing along good-naturedly as his mind raced, trying to think of how to manage his strength to avoid notice. The problem was, he had no concept of exactly how strong he should be if he was a normal newcomer. Maybe… he looked at Kyra surreptitiously. Her form was still outlined with that same glow he had seen that morning, and he could sense the power within her. He concentrated, focusing on that feeling of energy emanating from her. As he did, he became aware of a similar source of energy from Fyodor, this one much larger, pulsing outwards and almost muffling the power coming from Kyra. Grant concentrated harder, blocking out the distracting presence of Fyodor and isolating Kyra’s energy, attempting to gain some measure of the scope of her power. It was difficult, and he knew he was running out of time before his companions noticed he was doing something odd. Fyodor was talking, explaining some of the basics of how to throw a punch, and Grant was paying attention with a small part of his brain while attempting to focus on Kyra. Eventually, he was able to ignore Fyodor’s power and concentrate solely on Kyra’s energy. He compared it to the force he could feel thrumming throughout his own body and focused his senses inwards.
He didn’t really know how to do what he planned, but Ki must have sensed what he was trying to do, because a vague sense of approval and understanding floated up through his mind. He felt Ki grab hold of the power within him and separate it, splitting the lake of power within him and creating a second, much smaller pool of energy. He could tell by looking within himself that the portion of energy that Ki had isolated was roughly half as much as he could sense within Kyra - although it was incredibly difficult to quantify such a nebulous, swirling force. But it seemed correct that this was in the region of the appropriate power he should have at his disposal, so as long as he only drew from the smaller source, that should be enough to cover his tracks.
Good work, me, he thought. Hopefully if anyone could hear his thoughts they would think he was congratulating himself, but he could tell that Ki knew the thankful sentiment that lay behind the words.
He returned his focus to the present conversation. He looked at Fyodor, hoping that his foray had gone unnoticed, just as he finished a demonstration of proper punching technique.
“Okay, I think I get it. So… Do I punch it again?” he asked.
“No, not yet,” Fyodor said, shaking his head. “The purpose of this is not to simply flail weakly at inanimate objects! The purpose of this lesson is to flail very strongly at inanimate objects!”
Grant chuckled. “Okay, okay, I think I know what you mean. You said earlier about increasing my strength by using my power. Imbuing, right? So… how? Do I just… think it?”
Fyodor rocked his hand back and forth. “In a way, yes. The most important thing to remember about doing this is that it is not actually a use of your power. That is to say, you do not need to draw upon your Source the way you must have done yesterday. You do not exert any power upon the world, instead you distribute it within yourself. Now, close your eyes.”
Grant obliged.
“Now, feel your power. You must have located it yesterday. It differs for each of us, but you should feel… something. A sense, a taste, a beat. Something within your body that roils, that ebbs and swells, an ocean of power that calls out to you.”
Grant sent his mind inwards, locating his power easily. It was so vast, so overpowering, that he was hard-pressed to not feel it within him constantly. “I see it,” he said, eyes still closed.
“Good. Now, reach into it. Don’t be afraid, it is your power. It will not harm you. Reach into it and, instead of pulling it out of your body, grab hold. Instead of drawing upon it, as you did yesterday, instead, I want you to slowly, very slowly, spread it throughout your body. You may already feel it, moving around inside you wildly, without direction. For this to work, you must have purpose. Take control of the power coursing through you, and instead of letting it run wild within you, choose to let it fill you. To spread throughout your muscles, your blood, your eyes, your ears, everywhere. Feel it infuse your being.”
Grant did as Fyodor was instructing, with the exception that instead of grabbing hold of his entire Source, he tried to restrict it purely to the section that Ki had helped him isolate. It was hard, much harder than he had expected. The power fought him, not in any conscious way, but he could tell that it yearned to be free. It was an elemental, primal, yet entirely alien force, something that resisted his grasp yet longed to be used. Eventually he managed it, forcing the energy to bend to his will, feeling it soak throughout his body.
Instantly, he felt his muscles swell slightly, as his vision sharpened and his senses grew keener. He had felt all these effects when he awoke, but now they were ramped up to eleven. Opening his eyes, he stared around him in wonder. In a similar-yet-different experience to his new, magical sight, he could see the world around him as he never had before, with eyes like a hawk and hearing to match. He could see every minute detail of the rocky cliff face, could feel the changes in air pressure as Fyodor and Kyra breathed in and out, and he heard the buzzing and chirping of dozens of insects that flew through the air. He felt like he was truly awake for the first time.
“Good, isn’t it?” Fyodor asked, smiling knowingly.
Grant looked at him, still in awe of the world around him. “It’s… wow. I can see… feel… Do you all feel this way? It’s… spectacular.”
“Yes, it is,” he agreed. “But no, we don’t all feel like this. At least, not all the time. It can be dangerous, sustaining this for too long. You must build up tolerance, over time, like a drug. Our bodies are far more durable than they should be, but Imbuing your body like this… it is a strain on the system. Remaining this way for more than a few minutes is a dangerous idea. However, if you ever find yourself in trouble, I would highly recommend entering this state of being as your first line of defence. Not only are you now more resistant to injury, you can also sense danger far more easily in this state.” Fyodor nodded to someone behind Grant.
Grant felt a sudden shift in the air. He wasn’t focusing properly, but his new senses were still sufficient to feel the sudden tensing of muscles and the rush of blood as Kyra moved behind him. He ducked instinctively, just as Kyra’s sword swept through the air right where his neck had been. He spun to face her more rapidly than a normal human could, his heightened abilities helping him maintain his balance despite his incredible speed.
“What in the hell was that?” he sputtered angrily as he moved backwards, towards Fyodor. As he did so though, he felt another shift behind him, now from Fyodor. This movement was far, far quicker than Kyra’s had been, and he didn’t have time to react before something struck him in the small of his back, cutting through his clothes but failing to pierce his skin. The force threw him off balance but didn’t really hurt, and he stumbled forward and spun around once more. Fyodor stood there, grinning smugly at him, a dagger clasped in his hand.
Grant opened his mouth, ready to let loose a piece of his mind, before realising what had just happened. He had dodged an attack from behind, sensing the movement rather than seeing it, and had then been stabbed without being injured. He looked back and forth between Kyra and Fyodor, anger and shock fading as excitement took their place. “I…” he started, before pausing and staring at the dagger Fyodor held. “Did… did you really just stab me?”
“I did,” Fyodor said calmly.
Grant looked at Kyra, holding her sword casually by her side as though she hadn’t just attempted to decapitate him. “And… and you just…”
“I did,” she said, mirroring Fyodor.
Grant looked between them one more time, before the grin that he had been holding back burst onto his face. “Fucking excellent!” he exclaimed, laughing wildly as the adrenaline rush began to fade. “I just… That’s fucking incredible. You stabbed me?! And it didn’t even hurt! I’m goddamn Superman!”
Fyodor and Kyra smiled, setting their weapons aside. “Superman is a character I have had to have explained to me several times,” Fyodor said, motioning Grant over to the metal column once more, “but yes, from what I understand, you are. However,” he raised a finger, face growing sombre, “it is important to realise you are not invincible. Not to burst your bubble, but I did not stab you with my full strength. I was not gentle, and struck harder than most humans could, but I held back. Had I attacked with my full strength and speed, you would not be so intact.”
Grant quieted, the truth of the statement hitting him and pulling the plug on his exhilaration, grin fading. “I… yeah, I wouldn’t be, would I? That makes sense, I guess. But… still! I bet I could handle a gryphon claw no problem.”
Fyodor shrugged. “Probably, yes. But I don’t think you’ve noticed the full consequences of being struck. Observe your Source, if you would.”
Grant frowned and turned his attention inwards. He was shocked to see that the section of his power he had imbued himself with had shrunk quite drastically, used up in protecting him from the attack. “Wow, that… yeah okay, that took a lot of power. I… didn’t realise that would happen.”
“Indeed,” said Fyodor, nodding. “Preventing harm to yourself is an incredibly useful ability, worth Imbuing yourself in certain situations just for that, but it uses quite a lot of power to defend yourself. Even with our power depleted, we remain hard to kill, but there is a limit to how much harm our Source can protect us from. So, it is important to remember that there are two parts of this particular lesson. The first is that you can make yourself incredibly hard to kill, but the second, and more important part, is the way that you were able to move, sensing Kyra’s attack and dodging more swiftly than you could before. The central lesson here is that it is much more valuable to conserve your power by trying your best to avoid being hit entirely. Not only is it too easy to grow overconfident and leave yourself open to a deadly blow, but the more you are struck, the less power you will have at your disposal for the remainder of the battle, greatly lessening your effectiveness. Opening your senses, feeling the intentions of your attackers, and countering or avoiding them, is a far more effective way to fight.”
Grant nodded thoughtfully. “I get exactly what you mean. That definitely sounds like a good set of priorities.”
“In addition, as I said earlier, you must be careful not to imbue yourself for too long. Even the strongest of us cannot maintain such a state for long. Speaking of, you should release your power now.”
Grant obeyed, feeling the rush of power fading and leaving him sagging slightly. Now that he had returned to his normal state, he could already feel a faint throbbing pain throughout his body, just the few minutes he had spent imbued already taking a toll on his body.
“Good,” Fyodor said. “So, the two things to work on are to build up your tolerance, and perhaps just as importantly, to be able to imbue yourself quickly. Just a few seconds delay in Imbuing yourself may mean the difference between life and death down the road. To that end, I would like you to spend one minute of every hour this week in this state. Hopefully, by the end of the week, you will be able to stay imbued for a few minutes, and be able to slip in and out of that state easily..”
“Sounds good,” Grant said, “though I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t disappointed to have homework here.”
Fyodor laughed. “If you wish to learn, you must put in the work. But, before we move on,” he slapped the metal column, “have another swing at this while imbued. I think you’ll be pleased with the results.”
Grant looked at the column, thinking. He felt confident that he had… imbued, was apparently the word, himself with an appropriate amount of power to what a new arrival typically would have. But he was still uncertain if his normal, imbued state was significantly stronger than he should be, and even more uncertain how exactly imbuing worked. Would his strength be increased to the same level as anyone else? Or would it multiply his higher base strength, and he would end up far, far stronger than he would be able to explain? Eventually he gave a mental shrug and figured he may as well find out. He concentrated, struggling to force his power into his body once more. After a few minutes he managed it. He drew back his fist once more, feeling the energy swirling throughout his body, and swung at the metal pillar.
There was a deafening, screeching sound of metal warping as he hit the column with full force. The thick, solid shaft, which must have weighed at least a ton, crumpled inwards like paper around his fist, sharp shards breaking off and slicing through the air like streaking bullets. The pole, which wasn’t standing free but buried a foot deep, flew backwards through the air, ploughing a furrow through the dirt a metre long before toppling over and crashing into the ground with a thunderous crash.
Grant gaped at the aftermath in shock, the ease with which he had accomplished the feat of strength stunning him beyond his expectations. He stared at his hand as he let the energy fade from his body. There was a moment of silence, before Fyodor spoke.
“Not a bad second attempt,” he said, looking appraisingly at Grant, “but a bit on the weak end. I would suggest practising proper form a bit more. Now, onto magic.”