Micah limped around a pair of students into the gym. The light and noise consumed him. Feet hit the ground, in places bodies mats, training swords struck shields, and a group walked a form with shouts in attempted unison. Only the loudest noises had penetrated into the halls, but the general buzz thrived here. It was like the Tower plaza on a sunny day, though the weather outside was dreadful.
He squinted at the crystals for a step and wondered how they got so bright. Which floor were they from? Which floor would their replacements come from? More and more, he was getting used to the normal city culture and the comforts it yielded from the Tower. Had, and was now again yielding.
It was Friday afternoon, almost four days since the Tower had opened up again. Normally, students might have lingered inside after practical Tower Studies lessons to earn some extra cash. Micah doubted the school had left some of the gyms open because of the bad weather.
He only needed a moment to find his friends and headed for the far right end where the benches ended and a line of thin, greyish blue mats extended from the wall.
“Watcha’ doing?”
Ryan huffed out a breath and answered, “Training.” He turned on the mat and frowned. “Are you allowed to be in here with your shoes?”
Micah glanced down. “I needed a place to sit.” He shrugged and steadied himself against the wall to slowly ease himself down. Ryan was looking concerned. “Relax, I’m about to take them off.” He could have gone into the lockers, but that would have been too much of a hassle.
“Do you need help?”
With my shoes? “No. But thanks.”
Lisa lay on the bench next to him, one leg angled up, the other stretched against the ground. She had a book over her head and was taking up a third of the space despite not being the only one there.
Micah wasn’t sure. Was this the first time he was seeing her bare legs? No, that couldn't be right. Though she did tend to always wear pants under everything. Strange, that it would be near the end of Fall. Strange, also, that most everyone else in the gym was training and she reading, but she still looked like she would win a marathon against the rest of them.
When did she train?
Unfair, he amended his thought and pushed her a little further along to make some space. She grumbled a bit, but otherwise didn’t react. He wondered if she even knew it was him.
“How was therapy?” Ryan asked.
Micah leaned halfway over his cast to reach his shoes. “Oh, you know. Boring. I barely do anything.” With both his right limbs unavailable, there wasn’t a lot he could do. Walking through parallel bars and some basic exercises, that was it.
“Better than nothing?” he offered.
“Sure.”
He forced his shoe off and stuffed it under the bench, but noticed something else and eyed it in confusion. “On the topic of shoes, are those for … gymnasts?”
Ryan glanced down. The mat sunk below his feet whenever he made a slight step. His shrug came a second later. “Dancing, I think. I’m not really sure.”
He wore skin-tight shoes, the type you could just slip into. They were somewhat popular in the summer, Micah knew, but didn’t offer a lot of protection. You would feel every pebble through the soles.
He knew because Prisha had told him. She liked to wear them sometimes, though she always ended up complaining. A lot of girls did. Micah wasn’t sure what to say. A joke? Or maybe he should just go with it? Who knew? Maybe they were in style. Ryan would know about that.
“I got them for basically nothing in the Bazaar yesterday,” he said.
Micah nodded. “Cool, cool.”
“They had a bunch of other stuff, too, but there was so much going on because of the loot. I got what I needed and fled.”
“Right.”
The city was in chaos now as people brought things out of the Tower. Micah just nodded.
“He wants to know why you’re wearing girls’ slippers,” Lisa said. She didn’t look away from her book as she turned a page.
“They’re not—” Ryan rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. “I’ve just been practicing.”
“Dancing?” Micah offered.
“No.”
“Oh.”
“Just … watch, okay? But don’t laugh if I screw up. Lisa already did enough of that.”
The edge of her lips curled into a tiny smile. “Guilty.”
Ryan stepped off the mat and backed off. He checked to make sure the coast was clear, then slipped into a standing runner’s start, rolling his shoulders a bit and bouncing on his feet as he did.
Micah glanced at Lisa, but she wasn’t looking. A few others were, but whatever Ryan was about to do it wasn’t a novelty.
He put a bit of weight on his leg, then pushed off into a sprint at the wall. Still in his slippers, but he had a surprisingly good grip. When he got too close, he lept and kept on running up the wall. One, two … three.
Micah pushed a little off the bench to follow him.
He stretched his arms out toward a small ledge near the top, but missed by just half an inch. His shoes ground as he began to slip. He turned, put one arm against the surface, and pushed off toward the mats instead. His outstretched arms hit them at an odd angle and he rolled it off, but still hit the floor with enough force to make him groan.
“Are you alright?” Micah asked.
“Disappointed,” he grunted. “Agh!”
He sat back down.
“He’s been training that for almost an hour now,” Lisa said.
“That?”
“[Enhanced Traction],” Ryan answered as he pushed himself up. “It’s from my Path.”
Micah needed a moment to catch on. Then his eyes widened. “Oh. Ohh. You can push it up and down like your [Hot Skin]?”
“Yeah,” he said, grinning a little. “I’ve been trying to work it into my movements. I learned a few things. Like, it extends a bit beyond my feet, because it’s ‘enhanced,’ I think. It still works in shoes, but just barely. The closer my feet are to the ground, the better.”
“The slippers.”
“Exactly. Not the best solution—or a good solution at all—but they’re a start. I’m hoping I can find something better, thin but sturdy, for our Tower excursion to make the most of the effect. It only needs to be the soles. Maybe even only part of the soles. Everything else could be armored.”
“Cool.”
Ryan smiled. "Thanks." He wiped his hands off and backed away again to get a running start. On his next try, he made it to the ledge and hung there for a good while before he had to push off again, no doubt aided by his [Sure Grip]. He looked almost more agile than Micah was with his [Lesser Agility].
Just from practice?
He still hit the ground at an angle and Micah was about to suggest laying the mats in that direction when Ryan did it himself.
Then he tried again. After his third time, he practiced slipping around on the polished ground instead and threw himself into rolls, pushing his Skill down in the beginning and pushing it up the moment before, Micah assumed.
He just sat there and watched. Lisa read. Everyone else was training or chatting with friends.
He was used to doing separate things with one another, being alone together, but— He looked around for a bit, saw the people actually trying their best, and pushed up, stumbling back into a stand.
Nobody said anything as he hobbled away to the opposite side of the gym, where a few of the workshop kids were chatting. He saw Andrew, but Forester was also circling another guy on a mat a few meters further, slapping each other’s outstretched arms every now and then.
Delilah was nowhere around. Tommy, another [Alchemist], sat on the opposite end of the circle, but Micah didn’t know him well. He approached Mason instead. The guy sat cross-legged near one of the benches and turned to look at him. “Oh hey, Micah. What’s up?”
“Hey, uhm, I was wondering if— If you’re in the workshop later, and if I brought you the ingredients and the recipe, could you make me something?”
“Ah, uhm, sure?” He cocked his head. “What do you need?”
“Perfume.”
“Perfume?”
“Mine went bad—”
“Perfume goes bad?”
“—and deodorant isn’t cutting it.” He moved his leg. After just a week, his cast was already beginning to smell like sweat. But the bad kind, like skin that had been baked under bandages in the summer. It wasn’t so bad yet that anyone had noticed, but it would only get worse.
“It doesn’t go bad normally,” he added in answer to his question, “I don’t think, but alchemical properties never hold long.”
“Ah. Why do you make it alchemically, then? Why not just buy normal perfume?”
Micah frowned. “Habit?”
Mason shrugged. “What do you even put in there?” Before he could answer, his eyes lit up. “Oh, if you give me the recipe early, I might be able to give you some thoughts on it? I’m assuming it’s one of yours?”
“Thoughts?”
“Feedback.”
Micah took in a sharp breath. “Please.”
Feedback was great. The only other person he could ask was Lisa, and he got the sense he annoyed her every time he asked about anything relating to his callings. Mr. Jung said they could go to him for feedback, but …
Micah gestured at the doors. “Should I go get it now?”
“No.” Mason almost got up, one arm out to stop him. “No. Just— I don’t know, when do you need it? You could put the recipe near the noteboard and drop off the ingredients. I would get it to you by Sunday at the latest.”
Micah hesitated. He was tempted to go get everything right now just because Mason didn’t want him to, clearly because of his crutches. He could still do things. Not like everyone else was doing right now, but walking around was fine. He sighed and gave him a smile instead.
“Thanks. I appreciate it.”
“You’re welcome. Oh, and before I forget it. A few others and I were going to go to the Bazaar to check out the loot tomorrow. We heard a lot about those marble crystals you have, and there are tons of new plants. The Alchemist’s Guild is already releasing magazines with initial findings.”
“They are?”
“Yeah. They’re cheaper because it’s just whatever they can figure out, but still expensive. We thought we might pool our funds to buy some, which we could put in the workshop for everyone. And maybe you could take a look at some of the ingredients with your [Weirdo Sight] or whatever?”
“[Essence Sight].” He smiled. “And it doesn’t work like that.”
He shrugged. “But do you want to come? It’ll be crowded, though.”
Micah hesitated for a moment, which was ridiculous because of course he wanted to come. “Yes, please. Uhm, I might not buy anything, though? Aside from the magazines, I mean.”
“Oh, us neither. Prices are crazy right now. They’re changing by the hour in some places. We just want to look around. Maybe we can find something we might want to buy with our workshop fund later.”
Right. He had almost forgotten about that. Micah had spent enough on a new backpack and knife after he’d lost his old ones, and they still hadn’t sold what remained of their loot. Maybe he could do that tomorrow? He would have to ask Ryan about it. But this sounded fun.
He could use some of that.
“Awesome. I’ll see you later, then?”
“Oh. Yeah, bye.”
Micah raised a crutch in a tiny salute. Mason waved as he headed off again. With that out of the way, he ended up thinking about what other things he could do to keep himself busy. There were plenty of options—practicing ambidexterity, appraising alchemicals, studying for school, meditating, searching for mentions of essences in the library, reading what he already had.
None of those were even remotely satisfying.
Everyone else was pushing themselves in preparation for the exam. He wanted that. He wanted more. He wanted to be better than this. The less he could do, the more impatient he became. But, he knew the ‘better’ way was to do those things, practice those small gains that would take weeks or months and stick them through.
He guessed … he just didn’t see why he couldn’t both do that and search for ways to jump ahead as well?
Lisa was still reading her book when he sat down. Ryan was taking a break to hydrate, but was too far away to speak with casually. Micah hesitated. He hated having to annoy her, but he told himself he would only do it one last time before he threw himself into everything else.
“Hey, Lisa?”
Her response came late. “Mm?”
“Do you have time for that lesson you mentioned now?”
She blinked, then closed her book with an audible sigh.
“If you’re busy—”
“No.”
She swung herself up to sit upright on the bench, suddenly a head taller than him, and looked over. “No. I said I would do it and I will. Was there something in particular you wanted to talk about or do you just want me to teach you something I think might be useful for you?”
“I— For me? There … is something I would want to talk about,” he said, thinking back to his time in the Tower, “but I’m more interested in whatever you have picked out.”
“I still think you should be starting with the basics, but that’s alright.”
“Basics?”
“Essence variations, their patterns and environments, Nearest and Furthest. Things like that. But you can catch up on studying those in your own time.” She brushed her hair out of her face and suddenly didn’t look as annoyed anymore. She took a slow breath and looked thoughtful.
Micah was memorizing the things she had said while he waited. This wasn’t the first time she had mentioned essence variations.
“Alright. What,” she started, “happens when you focus on wind essence?”
Micah blinked. He should have guessed she would start like this. “I, uhm … I create a tiny breeze?”
Was that what she wanted to hear?
“Why?” Her question came straight away.
“Because … you said that my [Essence Sight] is like looking through a keyhole. By doing so, I’m allowing stuff from the other side to slip through. I guess, when I stare, I make a bigger keyhole?”
“There’s a point when metaphors distract more than they help, and there is a point where they and reality become one and the same. Just something to keep in mind. What exactly are you doing to make that breeze?”
“Letting in more wind essence.”
“From where?”
He frowned. “From the other … side?”
She looked away from him and gestured at the room. “What do you see? Stay on topic.”
He looked around and tried to find what she was asking for. “I see wind essence. Not true wind essence, it’s too stagnant. Too fluffy. It’s more like simple air essence that had been disturbed by everyone moving around.”
Lisa nodded.
“And I see a corona of light essence around the crystals, and where they meet the windows. There’s heat essence and a bit of moisture that isn’t just water. It’s kind of stuffy in here. It’s a bit like dust, but more grime than dust. Dust is weird.”
“How so?”
“It makes wiggly lines.”
“Ahh. Go on.”
“I see …” He looked down and noticed the floor and bench. “Wood essence, though it’s matted down. There are no ridges. I see the lacquer above. I see bits of fragments in the windows. Glass. Hints of something more.”
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“Ignore that.”
“Alright.”
He pushed his lips to the left and looked around as he searched for more obvious options, but now he had to start looking for needles in the haystacks. “I see some people with alchemical products on them, like shampoo or cremes.”
“Natural sheens. What else?”
“I don’t know. I would have to walk around and search.”
“And why is that? Why— You said it’s stuffy in here from all these people. Why isn’t the entire room full of heat and sweat essences? Why can you see bits of wind essence at all?”
“Because there is wind? Or moving air, I guess.”
“Mm. And when you stare at wind essence, what then?”
Micah frowned and did that for a moment, to remind himself. It was like everything else faded and the wind essence became more, but … He thought he was catching on, now. Where did that ‘more’ come from?
He looked at Lisa, passing the question on.
Noticing that he was on the end of the rope, she began the lesson in truth. “Watch this.”
Lisa inhaled and the entire room shifted.
The stagnant air and curls of wind came rushing toward her from every corner of the gymnasium, creating a soft breeze that brushed past hair and clothes. She took in a dozen, or a dozen-dozen breaths worth of wind essence, though the actual air she breathed in was that of one.
A handful of people glanced in their direction with the same look they would give someone casting a cantrip, but Micah’s eyes went wide. She was tearing the wind essence from the room. Not all of it. For the most part, it was just moving to fill the space. But there should be less, and when he glanced around—
From nothing, new wind essence filled in. Not the same as before. The warmth swelled and then was torn away by the breeze. It was the same for humidity. Lines of light stretched as if the had been cooped up and the room felt a bit lighter, all around.
She closed her mouth with a puffed chest and held her breath. After a few seconds, she pushed a tiny bit of air out, just enough to make curls. None of the essence she had just breathing in followed.
Micah stared.
“Where did it go?”
Lisa gave him a bemused look. “Where is it supposed to have gone?”
“Did you— Is it all in your lungs?”
She shrugged. “Some. And some— I guess you could say I ate it?”
“But— How—” He glanced around. The room had returned to normal, though the air felt a little less stuffy. Was that just him, the lighter essences clouding his perception? “How did you do that?”
“I breathed.”
“With what? How big are your lungs?”
She chuckled. “I didn’t breathe in with just my lungs,” she told him, patting her chest, “the same way you don’t look with just your eyes, Micah. But that’s beside the point. Did you see? What happened?”
“You took away wind essence and … more wind essence came,” he said, “the same as when I stare at it.”
“Similar, not the same. What you do is different. Do you take something away or do you add?”
“I …”
Away. Add.
“Essence is finite,” he realized.
“In a sense.”
Of course, it was finite. He knew that.
“Essence occupies space.”
That wasn’t something he had considered before, but it was equally obvious.
“In a sense,” Lisa said.
“Crystals. Crystals are finite and they occupy space. They have different sizes and densities, quantity but also quality. Stone golems and stone boars. And so are ingredients. Grass, water, blood, oil—they have essence I infuse during alchemy. Not just Tower ingredients, even regular things. They’re finite.”
“In a sense,” Lisa heeded.
“In practice,” he corrected himself.
“Stay on topic. What is it I’m trying to teach you?”
What was it?
“‘What happens when you focus on wind essence?’” Micah quoted her. “I pull in more of it. More … I give it space?”
“Now we’re getting somewhere.”
“But where does it come from? I’m not summoning, am I? Not from a distance, at least.”
“By looking?” She almost chuckled. “No.”
“Then there had to be more around me that I can’t see. It’s not just that it occupies space, it occupies surface space. Like something floating in water. Whichever is closest to the surface has the most influence. Or it's the easiest to give influence, anyway.”
“In most cases, yeah. Can you guess which qualities influence what's on the surface, as you put it?”
The question threw him off his stride for a moment; made him stumble.
“Quantity, obviously," he tried. "There is a lot of air so there is a lot of air essence. Quality. There is arguably more light, but it takes a second role excempting exceptions. Relations. When you put it next to shadows or see sunbeams through the canopies. Source. When you use magic, alchemicals, crystals. Distance from source?” He tilted his head, thinking about the sun, but shook it. Too far of a guess. Maybe, but he couldn’t be sure. He was a little more sure about something else. “Age. An old tree’s wood essence is different than that of a new sapling. And finally, People.”
That was the most important one, he thought.
Lisa smiled. “I see no reason why you need me to prompt you for these things, Micah. It’s a good list, for a beginning. There are hundreds of other reasons that you could study. Like I said, basics.”
He nodded in thanks, then politely furrowed his brows. “But I don’t see how that helps me?”
“Really? You can’t see how—” She pushed her lips together and changed tones, as if catching herself on something. Had she been about to reveal the answer? “What did you learn? Summarize it.”
“That—” He frowned and glanced at his hands as he spoke; saw how the air moved around them. It wasn’t what she wanted to hear. “That essence fights for surface space, but there’s much more hidden beneath.”
“And how can you use that?”
He blinked. “Alchemy.”
A lesson designed for him was easy to guess. Who was he? An [Alchemist].
“There you go.”
“I can try to manipulate the essences I infuse from my ingredients, especially Tower ingredients because they are part essence. Maybe I can try to purify them until I only have the essence of one type. It would be minute work—”
“Meticulous work,” she told him, “but the best crafts always are. This is what you are already doing with your [Personalized Alchemy], Micah, just unconsciously. If you want to get the most out of your ingredients, the highest quality out of little quantity, then you could learn how to actively use this. Like turning pages in a book. That’s how I sense essences, by the way. Find the right page and infuse that instead of what lies on the surface.”
Micah stared at her in surprise. It really was a thoughtful lesson.
“Thank you,” he told her. “Thanks. I’ll be sure to practice … as soon as I get this cast off.”
He glanced at his outstretched leg propped against the floor and rolled his eyes.
Lisa gave him a sympathetic smile. “You’re welcome. Now, you’re sure you don’t want me to teach you some of the basics?”
He groaned, leaning back. The blanket of wind moved around as he did.
“Sure. Why not?”
“Great. Wait a moment. I’ll be right back.” She jumped off the bench and headed for the far doors. Closer to the girl’s lockers.
Micah looked around and spotted Ryan giving him a questioning look. He gave him a thumbs-up in reply.
Ryan threw himself at the wall.
“Alright.” When Lisa came back, she threw her backpack down and held out two fists. Opening them, she revealed two light crystals in the palm of either hand. Both were glowing softly, barely visible in the light. They were different types. “One of these is glowing on its own and one, I’m lighting up. Which is which?”
Micah frowned. They were different shapes. One was slightly bigger, but he had a hard time figuring out which was supposed to be natural and which artificial. He had worked with few outside of his fixed recipes. Maybe it was a trick question? He doubted it.
“That one is artificial,” he said. “The light essence is too bright. I doubt you just walk around with an expensive—" He hesitated. "You didn’t steal one of the lamp crystals from around the school, did you?”
“No. But, you cheated thinking like that.”
He frowned, and shrugged. "So I did."
The crystals disappeared and she turned around to her backpack. He caught a glimpse of her opening a bottle. When she held her hands out toward him again, two funnels of wind essence swirled above them.
“One of these is from outside and one is from inside. Which is which?”
Micah blinked, then glanced at either orb. Was this what she had meant with studying essence types? When would this ever be necessary? Still, he compared the two and slowly pointed at the right one. “That one is from outside. It’s thinner, colder, and its humidity is different from the room’s.”
She grinned. “Good job.”
Somehow, Micah got the sense she was talking like talking to a dog. She was only missing the treat and the pat on the head.
He tried to wipe the smile off his face. “Don’t patronize me.”
“Now ... “ She glanced around and settled on something in the distance. Someone. Myra, repeating a sword strike. “Be right back.” She ran off and spoke to her for a bit. When she came back, she had two orbs of light in either hand. “One of these is Myra’s and one my own. Which is which?”
They looked the absolutely-freaking-same.
Micah glanced at each, wondering in the back of his mind if magic could even belong to a person and if so, how could she be sustaining Myra’s without tainting it? But he couldn’t see a difference.
Maybe … outside sources? Input-output. They learned about it in Mana Manipulation. He looked at the area around the orbs instead and started digging deeper, like she had told him. He focussed on the bits of light essence around one and moved his eyes clockwise around it. Something lit up as he found a line being fed into it from elsewhere.
Lisa smiled.
When he did the same for the other, nothing popped up and it remained dimmer.
“That one is Myra’s.”
“You have to stop cheating,” she said, but didn’t sound like she minded. “Just look at them. They couldn’t be more different from one another.”
“How so?”
“Myra’s is crude. She learned her light spell ages ago and never thought to refine it. There. There. There.” She pointed with the pinky of her other hand at three places. “There are impurities in there that bleed in from her other spellcraft. Mine is basically mage light—mana on the cusp of being completely tainted toward light. Like [Mage Fire]. I stuffed it full of light essence when I made it.”
“That seems more like studying mana variations than essences to me,” Micah complained.
She weighed her hands. “Same—same. It’s all the same. Mana is two-thirds essence, you know? And it’s all magic.”
He remembered something then, an image of an eye with a mouth in his mind. What he had wanted to talk to her about earlier. It had been bugging him in the back of his head all week.
“Lisa?”
She was looking around, probably for the next aide she could use to teach him. One of the orbs swelled and spiraled upwards as it died, along the line that had been fed into it. The other just fell apart. She glanced at him. “Hm?”
“In the Tower, I saw something. And I was wondering, but— Ryan said something that got me wondering. Tower essence. It isn’t a spirit, right?”
He had her entire attention. Her expression turned somber. “No.”
Micah sighed. “Good, because I thought— It acts so much like a spirit, you know? It ate flesh essence and turned it into leather, and it made the wall act as if it were flesh, and it seems so alive.”
“That’s because it is.”
Micah blinked. “What? You just said—?”
Lisa sighed and glanced down. She put her arms on either leg and leaned forward in a thoughtful posture. “There’s this phrase you people like to use. What is it? Something 'dominion' …”
“Essences have no dominion.”
It was one of the first truths he had garnered from his [Essence Path].
You people?
Lisa looked up. “Exactly. You know what that means?”
“That it’s beholden to the influence of others,” Micah explained. “It’s a thing. Fire can be made to act like stone, wood to act like fire, wood to be made into fire. Helanic conversion as you called it.”
She nodded. “And there might be resistance, because it has its own nature. But in the end, it can’t sink its feet into the ground, it can’t create rules or laws to live by, it can’t push back. It has no dominion. But some types of essences, they do.” She smiled. “You generally might want to avoid them.”
Micah frowned. “But the Tower—”
“I know.”
Tower essence was all around them. It was even in them, if Lisa was right. A part of their mana. People fought to get close to the Tower, not stay away from them.
“What is it? Not spirits.”
“No, more like … Imagine a spirit were a human being, with a body and a mind, and essences were things like the elements: Iron, water, copper, oxygen, carbon. Then Tower essence would be like germs.”
“Germs?”
“Yeah, tiny …” She frowned and shook her head. “No. That’s not right. That would imply they’re just lesser life forms. It’s more like ... as if your blood were suddenly sentient."
She held up a hand as if looking within.
"Not necessarily sapient. And not biologically speaking. But it could move and act on its own, according to its own nature. It could make the simplest of decisions. Wounds wouldn’t bleed, a heart wouldn’t need to beat for it to flow, a body could be manipulated for its own good.”
Micah frowned. “That sounds weird. I mean, it’s unnatural for normal blood to be sentient, why should it be any different for essences?”
“Unnatural to you, maybe. Not to other beings.”
“Spirits?”
“It depends on which ones you ask. Keep in mind, most essences have no dominion. Besides, it’s just a metaphor.”
He looked around until his eyes found one of the windows nearest the Tower. It would get darker soon in the evening, dark enough for Tower essence to peek out. It had always seemed a little different to him, but not enough to be obvious.
“Are there others like that?”
“I’ve only encountered two openly,” Lisa said. “Sunlight and moonlight. Outside wind and inside wind. Essence variations. You’re with me?”
“Uhm, yeah?”
“There’s, uhm … Well, there’s this variation on life essence that is like it.”
Micah turned on her. “Life essence?”
“Yeah. It’s rare, I know. And this variation is even rarer. You can find trace amounts of it in perspit plants, though. I think.”
“Is that why they’re the main ingredient for middle-grade healing potions?” It was a rhetorical question, because they had so many other qualities, too. He frowned. “What about Honey Ants?”
“Healing, instead of life.”
“Wow. And the other? What was the second one?”
“A variation of rage essence.”
Micah tried to imagine that for a moment and all he could think of was Tower essence giving him the cold shoulder or biting things instead of poking them. “Wait, if rage essence exists,” he said, having a thought. “Does that mean essence exists for all other emotions?”
Lisa looked him like he was stupid. “Of course. Essence exists for all things.”
He smiled, having a stupid idea. “Even something like, uhm, this bench here?” He patted it with both hands.
Lisa frowned, but didn’t say anything.
Micah kept on smiling. After a moment, it got awkward. He glanced around. “Lisa?”
“Hold on. I’m turning pages.”
“Oh.”
A moment later, she nodded once and shook her head. “Not this bench. I think it’s too young. Or something else went wrong. But there are a few in the other gym that have a kernel of it.” She pointed away at the wall without looking. Micah followed with his eyes.
They were in the school gym. She was pointing in the direction of the Guild. She could sense that far? She could also cast spells with mostly essences. He wondered if he would ever catch up to her. Then he had a second, stupid idea.
“Wait, so you cast [Condense Water] by collecting a bunch of water essence, right?" he asked, a little hesitant, but he pushed on. "If you collected a bunch of ‘bench essence’ and stuffed it in a tree, could you learn the spell [Create Bench] or something?”
Lisa surprised him by laughing. It sounded genuine.
“Yeah. Yeah, you could do that. One of my uncles actually does something similar. He makes things with essences alone, but he never gives them enough. Like, he would make a bench but only give it enough for two-thirds of it to be finished? Or he would give half first and then half in a different direction. So he ends up with these weird sculptures that he places everywhere. Some of them look cool. Some—”
She made a face.
Micah smiled from ear to ear. Lisa has two or more uncles, he thought, but didn’t say anything. And one of them is an artist.
For a bit, he just looked around and had fun wondering about all the possibilities, but eventually …
“Is any of this important?”
He remembered why he was asking in the first place. It seemed to him like it didn’t change that much. Tower essence was Tower essence. If every bench only had a kernel of ‘bench essence’ he would have to break a lot of them to make use of the concept.
Not that he wanted to make a bench.
She shrugged next to him. “Not much. Not until you make advanced divination alchemicals, at least. Tower essence is an ingredient for some of those, I believe. Or if you want to make a high-grade healing potion, you’ll have to distill a lot of ‘trace amounts’ from valuable ingredients.”
“Tower essence? Would that hurt it?” Micah asked, suddenly alarmed. “If it’s alive?”
“No. Not alive. Not in the biological sense, because of course blood is alive. It’s complicated. But relax. I doubt there is much that could harm essences, let alone make them feel harm.”
He sighed, but was still a little unsure. He guessed he would burn that bridge when he got to it. “Thank you again. I’ll be sure to practice a lot when I get better. And I promise I’ll try to figure more things out on my own from now, like the others.”
“I’ll look forward to it,” she told him.
He didn’t know if she meant the potions or the figuring things out on his own. Probably both.
Lisa took a breath and pushed herself off the bench, stretching as she stood up. “Now, I’m going to go annoy Ryan. He promised me he would help me with something, too, you know.”
He smiled. “Sure. Do that.”
"Study some variations, will you?" She walked off to where the other guy was … practicing sweeping kicks? Either that, or he was dancing.
Micah looked back at everyone else who were training or just horsing around. He looked at his hands. The air shifted as he moved them, tiny waves and distortions in the wind essence. Curls, if he was quick enough. It always moved when he did.
It was a good lesson. It had been. But he wouldn’t be able to use it for another four weeks. And it wasn’t the only thing he had learned. Micah took a deep breath and watched the wind essence be pulled in, staring at it with his [Essence Sight]. Not nearly as much as Lisa had breathed.
Still, was it in him now? In his lungs? A part of him? He was reminded of her first comparison. ‘Like bacteria’. He knew the human body had a symbiotic flora in their digestive tract. Was it like that?
He had learned another lesson. Mana, [Essence Sight], auras, thoughts—they weren’t the only things that could manipulate them.
He took another breath, this time with his eyes closed, and focused on the feeling of his lungs filling with air. He almost felt like he should be able to feel something more there. When he exhaled, he peeked to see the essences that left him. It was more than what Lisa had breathed out.
He took another breath in.
Out.
In.
Out.
He peeked every time until he didn't. Before he knew it, he was meditating.
----------------------------------------
Ryan patted his head and rubbed his stomach in circles at the same time.
Well. Figuratively speaking.
He stayed light on his feet, took quick breaths, and readied himself. Then he did a short sprint, ducked down, and swiped his right leg out, left one up, right one down, hand against the ground to steady himself.
Up and down were short for [Enhanced Traction]. He was manipulating it on both legs separately.
His right leg slid over the ground as he put as much force into it as he could, and his left one stayed where it was. He didn’t fall off-balance. He almost shouted in satisfaction as he reversed it in his mind. Finally. He pushed off his right leg into a run and—
His left one slipped out from under him—he’d reversed it accidentally as well—and he hit the ground chest first, groaning as he curled up. That smarted. His ribs were well enough for training, but they still felt a little tender at times.
“Damnit.”
Ryan pushed himself up.
Different limbs, different limbs, different limbs, he reminded himself as he dusted his hands off. It was almost like a mantra. He had two legs. Two opportunities for manipulation. He just had to be able to pat his head and circle his stomach at the same time. And run and fight, he supposed. Maybe even cast a spell. Grab something or someone?
Great. The list just got longer and longer every time he thought about it. He wondered if there was a multitasking Skill and which beast he would have to copy to get it.
He stayed light on his feet, readied himself, and did it again.
“Ryan,” Lisa called as she walked up. “What are you doing?”
“Running around corners.”
He had nearly slipped in mud or run into walls too many times when they had fought the Golems in the Tower. Most floors had corridors with sharp turns. This was a solution.
“It looks like you're break-dancing and failing hard.”
Ryan scowled. He knew it looked stupid, but practice often did. “Did you need something?”
“Yeah. Fight me.”
He blinked and turned around. “I’m sorry?”
“I want to level, you look like you’ve recovered, and I heard you and Micah both leveled when you fought each other, back then. We both need sparring partners. Dueling classes start soon. Fight me.”
Ryan hesitated and caught himself rubbing his ribs in circles. He stopped. She would get angry if he pointed out she was a girl, wouldn’t she?
But sparring ... he was reluctant to do it and he didn't know why. Gardener would cuff him if he heard he'd backed out of an opportunity to improve himself. Sparring was good.
“Alright?”
Lisa grinned. “Great. Get dressed, then. Your raincoat. We're doing this properly.”