Whispering “One, two, three! "I tried to condense the water molecules in the air into a small ball. I had been studying the spell book for a few hours now, and finally had an understanding about how to harness my mana. It was all about will and focus and these irritating spell circles.
I also had the scientific knowledge of modern day Earth in my head, so I had an edge when using the materials around me. For example, most people in the village wouldn’t know about the moisture in the air—science simply hasn’t advanced far enough for most of Aci. I am sure those of high level water magic know, maybe some city nobles and other high society BS. But who would want to tell anyone and not keep an edge in combat?
As I continued to intensely focus, I felt the mana leave my body. I watched in awe as a small sphere of water slowly materialized in front of my face. It gradually grew in size, and soon was the size of a ping pong ball. I gasped, amazed by what I was capable of in this world.
My concentration slipped for a moment, as the ball’s shape became more of a squashed pancake. The water began to fall towards the floor, and I started focusing once again. The water reacquired its spherical shape, the candle light glimmering off its surface.
I focused exclusively on keeping the water’s ball shape together, but soon could feel my mana running out. I knew that if I held on till the very end, my mana storage would increase. I concentrated, willing to keep the ball shape together until the very end. I felt my mana flow fizzle out, and the ball’s shape wavered. It quickly gave up, and the water fell to the ground, splashing upwards before settling and beginning to spread.
***
It had been three days in the demon world since Dalleon Baldorbain had been reborn. Of course, time passed much slower in the Demon Realm, just a measure so that the number of incoming souls never overwhelmed them.
Azareth was sitting at his heavenly desk, going over some paperwork for soul appeals. He couldn’t focus, however. As something was on his mind. Azareth usually forgot about the rebirths, paying no mind once it was over. It was their new life, their chance to be reborn, and it wasn’t his fault if they screwed up.
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Strangely, none of this seemed to apply to one of his most recent rebirths, Dalleon Baldorbain. Azareth just couldn’t seem to get it out of his mind that this one was special. He didn’t know how. Hell, he didn’t even know if his sudden feelings meant anything. Yet his intuition and instincts told him that this time it was different.
Azareth had checked in on Dalleon twice now, something that he had never done before. Once when he was 6 months old, and once when he had just turned one. Everything seemed normal—he was adapting to his special form of magic and learning the world’s normal forms too. He had even figured out spell circles all on his own!
Azareth had shown some self-control, and had chosen not to peer into the mind of young Dalleon. He had, however, inspected his mana stores, and was shocked to learn how big they were, especially at his age. He had more mana at age one than many commoner adults who had never trained theirs.
He had also peered into his collection of Soul, and realised he must've been summoning imps at least once every few days.
Azareth’s suspicions were not confirmed yet, but even though he told himself that he was making things up, deep down he knew something had to be different.
I sat back and smiled. I had just used magic! Silently celebrating, I took a deep breath, trying to calm myself.
And then my heart dropped.
I have no way to clean the spill I thought. My heart rate quickened, and sweat formed on my brow. The imp is still here! My eyes brightened at the idea. Did I have a towel, or even any fabric? I scanned the room, not finding anything I could use to soak up the spill.
My parents may find out something was wrong. I must wait it out. I thought. Wait it out and see what happens.
There was a chance they wouldn’t believe it. Maybe, if I acted normally, they wouldn’t pay it any mind. Anyone could have spilt a bit of water coming to the cot.
My eyes were growing heavy, so I weighed the options; sleep or panic. There was nothing I could do, and panic would do no good. I could feel my mana and Soul slowly regenerating, and I knew I wouldn’t be able to perform any more magic tonight. I decided that the best action would be to sleep.
I looked over to the imp, ordering it to return the book back to the shelf. It scrambled to close it, dragging the book over and pushing it tightly into its spot.
“Goodnight, little imp. Send Azareth my regards.” I spoke, willing the imp to be freed. The same circle—the red sparkly one with the pentagram inside—appeared, and the imp stepped into it. Elegantly bowing down to me, I heard it whisper something? But I couldn’t understand it. I watched as the circle fizzled out, and then like the sun during an eclipse, it was gone.
I laid down on my small mattress, stretching my limbs and taking a few deep breaths to lower my heart rate. I closed my eyes, willing sleep to come quickly. Soon I was overtaken by the deep fatigue, and fell into a deep slumber.