“Great. How good is your kinesthetic mana sense?” Cain leaned forward, ready to start explaining all he’d learned about his mana in the past few days.
“Sorry, which one is that?”
“If someone punches you, you’ll feel pain. That’s your kinesthetic sense. The kinesthetic sense is what lets you detect kinetic energy — also just called physical force. That’s also where telekinesis gets its name, since it involves using physical force to move objects around. Make sense?”
“Um, yes. You could’ve stopped after the second sentence, though.”
“You’re right, but that won’t stop me from explaining things in more detail than necessary,” he grinned. “Now, your kinesthetic mana sense. How good is it?”
“It’s alright, I think. The attribute is at… thirteen?”
“Good. That should be more than sufficient for you to make out what’s going on inside your core if you focus properly. Kinesthetic is the most useful attribute for working with mana inside your body, from what I’ve gathered. Now, focus on that mass of mana in your heart. Near the center will be a ring of mana, or a ‘mana gyre’ as you called it.”
Magira closed her eyes, then nodded. “Alright. What now?”
“How many threads are there?”
“Eight… why?”
“There are two ways I’ve found to increase the efficiency of a mana gyre. The first is increasing its speed, which is the simplest and easiest way of doing it. The second is increasing its density. If a larger raw amount of mana is being circulated in the gyre, more mana is generated. This is more effective than simply increasing speed, but is more difficult to pull off.”
“Oh,” said Magira. “I’ve heard of people trying to do stuff like that, but it’s always resulted in their gyre breaking, and they wind up running out of mana and living the rest of their lives without magic.”
Cain blinked. “Shit, really?”
“What, did you mess with your core without knowing the risks?” Magira smirked at him.
“… Yes.”
“Well, if you managed to pull it off, I’ll trust you, but if you have a way to create more mana gyres in your core, it might be worth trying that first to be safe.”
“Definitely,” Cain said. “I don’t want to screw you over like that. We’ll revisit that one in a bit.”
“Alright. What’s the first step for making a new gyre, then?”
“Pinch off a ball of mana from the free-flowing stuff outside your core. At first, I tried to pull off a thread, but doing something with that much precision is unnecessarily difficult.”
“… Okay, I have it. What do I do with it, though?”
Cain focused on his mana sight, and started observing Magira’s mana for changes. “Treat it like a ball of dough. Just sort of… roll it in on itself until you have a hole in the center, so that your mana looks like a bagel, or a donut.”
“I’m not sure what a donut is, but okay…” Magira’s eyebrows tightened slightly. Cain couldn’t make out the details of her core, but he did discern some movement out of the ordinary. “Okay, it has a hole in the middle now.”
“Great. Now… start spinning it.”
“… What?”
“Just start spinning it. The mana gyre is literally just a spinning ring of mana, Magira. All you need to do is form a second ring and start spinning it.”
“That can’t be it!” Magira opened her eyes to stare incredulously at him. He maintained a deadpan smile. “You’re… serious? All I have to do is just… spin some mana around?”
“That’s how I did it,” Cain replied. This had been the right choice; he was enjoying this immensely.
“Ugh. Okay, let me get it set up again…” Magira went back to closing her eyes and knitting her brows, silently concentrating.
After a few minutes of watching and waiting, Cain noticed a change. The pale blue tinge of Magira’s mana deepened slightly, and it seemed to fill out her blood vessels a bit more fully than it had before. That, and a quiet gasp from her told Cain that it had worked. He grinned at seeing her awed — and somewhat offended — expression.
“I take it you have a second gyre now?”
“Yes,” she sighed in response.
“Now that you have two, you can safely work on one of your gyres at a time without worrying about losing your magic forever.”
“That’s true… I’m pretty sure this is how legendary sorcerers like Durevin managed to cast such impressive spells. If you can experiment on your core without worrying about losing everything…” She trailed off. A little focus from Cain revealed she was losing herself in speculation about the stories she’d heard throughout her life.
“I hate to break it to you, but even with an advantage like this, getting to the point of being considered legendary is a long ways off. I have the mana to throw fireballs all day, but manipulating mana takes a toll on the mind. If you don’t have a sufficient channeling attribute for what you’re trying to do, you’ll end up with a killer headache. Worst-case is, you’ll just pass out.”
“Oh…” Magira blinked, sobering somewhat at that. “I knew you needed channeling for refining your core, but I thought that was all it was used for. Usually the only barrier to a person’s spellcasting is how much mana they have.”
“I figured, yeah. So, do you want to try increasing a gyre’s density now?”
Magira nodded enthusiastically.
“Alright,” Cain began, “I’m going to explain this one all at once instead of step-by-step, since there is the risk of breaking a gyre. What I did was get my first gyre up to having four threads — no particular reason, I just liked the four-way symmetry — and then I sped it up until a fifth thread started forming. Before that could fully form, I cut it. Now, the excess mana being produced by the gyre was just pooling up inside it, because the other four threads weren’t enough to drain it all. The thing is, this is what makes the gyre unstable; you need to sort of ‘clamp down’ on your mana —” he mimed strangling something with his hands — “or it’ll lose its form, or start forming another thread. Eventually, the stress this puts on the gyre and its connected threads will force it to expand. Both the gyre itself and the threads will thicken, and become much sturdier. After that, forming new threads will be harder, but the gyre will produce much more mana than before. Got it?”
“Wait, wait—” Magira put up her hands in a ‘slow down!’ gesture. “Why would you cut the thread? I didn’t even know that was possible.”
“The goal of it is to add mana to the gyre, and increase the density by doing so. You could try to pull more mana into the gyre, but I don’t know if that would work — it might just break it.”
“How does cutting the threads add mana to anything, though? They’re what’s responsible for recovering mana.”
“That,” Cain snapped his fingers, “is false. Mana is produced in the ring itself, the center of the gyre. The threads all flow outwards, drawing mana out of it and into the pool of free-flowing stuff you can use. If you cut a thread, it can’t carry away the mana fast enough, and it builds up inside the ring.”
“So… the ring part of the gyre is what produces mana? And the threads are just… moving the mana around?”
“Exactly. That’s also why we’re trying to cause mana to build up inside the ring, because a bigger ring will create more mana. Now, are there any more parts of the procedure you’re unclear on, or do you want to try it?”
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Magira’s brain was throbbing painfully in her skull. Each pulse rattled her eyes in their sockets and made it hard for her to focus her eyesight. Why… did he make it sound so easy? Cain’s method of refining his core was proving absurdly difficult for Magira to follow. Making a second gyre had been surprisingly easy, so she’d gone into his next piece of advice with optimism, but it was hard to maintain that attitude through a splitting headache. It was no small blessing that she’d learned to make new gyres before attempting to alter one, because she’d broken no less than seven in her attempts.
“It’s alright if you’re not able to get it right away,” said Cain. She would have admired his patience with her, were it not for the infuriating level of enthusiasm that came with it. “You know how to make spare gyres now, so you’ve got the freedom to fail as many times as it takes to master this.”
Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.
“That would be great,” Magira ground out through clenched teeth, “except I don’t want to fail, do I? Because failing is really fucking painful, Cain!”
A hand landed on her shoulder. “Then take a break. Blow off some steam. You can always get back to it when you feel better.”
The idea irked her. Take a break? That would be like admitting she was unequal to the task. Take a break? She would do no such thing. Magira formed another mana-bagel in her core, and began to spin it into a new gyre. She pushed through the mounting pressure in her skull, determined not to quit until she’d succeeded at least once. The hand left her shoulder, its movements as it did so signaling uncertainty. I can do this… you’re about to feel real stupid for doubting me, just watch. A single thread shot out from the spinning bagel. With an effort of will, Magira sped up the flow until a second began forming. And then, she stopped it, clenching a metaphorical fist over her mana. The structure wavered and warped dangerously, threatening to shatter once again, but she still held on. After a few moments, its movements grew less erratic, and it began calming down again. As it did, relief washed over her — so much, in fact, that she let go.
“Nnrgh…” Magira groaned through clenched teeth, feeling a stabbing pain pierce her heart, and shortly thereafter her head.
“Okay, please take a break. This is not fun to watch.”
“And you think,” she panted, “that this is fun?”
“No,” Cain replied, “but at least you have the option to stop. I’m stuck in here watching you torture yourself until you either succeed, decide to rest, or pass out. Plus, the telepathy has been making me experience bits of what you’re feeling.”
“Not so fun when… someone else does it… is that right?”
“Look, I really am sorry for waking you up like that. I wasn’t trying—”
“Just shut up… I’m trying again.”
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Magira awoke the next morning feeling like she’d barely slept at all. Her limbs felt as heavy as if she’d been hauling worg carcasses back to camp all day yesterday, despite not doing anything that qualified as physical labor. When she tried to lift an arm, all she received was a twitch of her fingers. Actually, I think I’ll just keep lying here. The next few moments were spent in a state of blissful sloth, imperfect only for its lack of actual sleep. Her rest was rudely interrupted by a rumbling growl from her stomach. Disgruntled, Magira began trying to sit up in earnest, only to find herself obstructed by… a blanket? Wait, why am I in the bed?
“Morning,” called a voice to her left. “You sleep alright?”
She groaned sleepily. “Cain…?”
“‘Course it’s Cain. How are you feeling?”
“Terrible,” she sighed. “Like somebody dropped a sack of rocks on my head.”
“Yeah, I felt about the same after I passed out in the Flutewood.”
“Speaking of passing out, did you move me into the bed after I fell asleep?”
“Of course,” said Cain. “With how thin you are, you could’ve easily caught a cold just lying on top of the sheets like that. Besides, I don’t need to be comfortable to get to sleep.”
“Wait.” Magira turned her head to squint at him. “Where did you sleep?”
“The floor. Obviously.”
“The floor?”
“Obviously,” he nodded.
“There’s clearly enough room in the bed for us both, though.”
Magira both saw and felt Cain grow suddenly uncomfortable at that. “That’s… not something you just do… without asking first…”
“What, does everybody on Earth just sleep alone, then?” Magira didn’t understand why Cain seemed to have a problem with sharing the bed.
“Well, couples don’t,” he replied awkwardly. “But that’s mostly it. At least in my part of the world.”
“Seriously?”
“Yeah.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “You mentioned you grew up living a nomadic lifestyle. This is just a guess, but did you have communal sleeping arrangements with your family or friends?”
“Of course we did,” she answered. Obviously! “Families sleep together, and friends without their own families would sleep with them. Why would we sleep separately?”
Cain sighed. “In your case, you wouldn’t. It’s entirely impractical not to have communal sleeping areas. The thing is, it’s a lot easier to make private sleeping spaces work when you’ve got a permanent place of residence. So, I grew up in an environment where it was basically taboo for anyone but couples and close family members to share a bed. Bedrooms were mostly separated, and usually only shared between family and good friends.”
“Oh… I guess that makes a little more sense. Still, you’d probably be more comfortable just sharing the bed.”
“Physically, sure. Mentally—” Magira’s stomach cut him off abruptly.
“Sorry.” She folded back her ears.
“Don’t be,” he said. “We should probably get something for breakfast, then see about some work from the Guild.”
Cain stood from the wooden chair he’d been seated in. As he did so, he shook off his cloak and slung it over his shoulder. Do I get to come with him this time? He began walking towards the bathroom.
“Yes, you do,” called Cain’s voice.
Magira perked up measurably. Drowsiness mostly forgotten, she began extricating herself from the heavy sheets of the bed. She fumbled with the boots she’d left by the windowsill for a moment, then staggered over to the desk where her equipment was resting. She pulled on the gloves first, slipping her claws easily through the fingerless leather. Next, she slid on the heavy leather breastplate, and began fiddling with the numerous buckles that would keep it from sliding around whenever she moved. She hit a snag fastening the buckle underneath the second pauldron; the first, now buckled, was keeping her from reaching quite as far as she needed. After a minute of straining against her own armor, a second pair of hands appeared and fastened the strap for her.
“Thanks, Cain.”
“Just returning the favor.”
Again, Cain casually defied her expectations. She had helped him to fasten a troublesome buckle on his armor — a trivial chore that had barely any impact. Such chores were considered the basic obligations of most slaves. But Cain had called it a favor. Where she’d helped him the day before, he’d repaid the gesture and helped her. Magira had already accepted that Cain was anything but normal, and that he meant what he said, but the act still surprised her somewhat. She tucked a hunting knife into a strap on her leg before throwing on her cloak. He just doesn’t seem to recognize us as being any different from one another.
“Because I don’t, Magira. You have a soul. I have a soul. That’s all I need to know.”
“You… really didn’t know you could listen to my thoughts, did you?”
“Nope,” he chirped. “Thanks for letting me know, by the way.”
I’m going to regret that later, I can tell.
‘Perhaps.’
Magira shook her head and picked up a water skin from the desk… “Hey, you have a water aspect, right? Do you mind filling this?”
“Oh, right,” said Cain, taking the skin from her. “Sorry, I spaced on that.”
“You what?” Magira watched as he pressed a finger to the mouthpiece of the leather pouch, and began steadily inflating it.
“Just a figure of speech. Spacing out, like… losing focus. Daydreaming. In this context, forgetting about something as a result of the previous examples.” He handed a full water skin back to her.
“Huh. That’s an odd phrase.” Magira tucked the pouch of water into a separate strap on her breastplate.
“Maybe so,” Cain said. “Now, you wanna get out of here?”
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Magira chewed happily on her skewer while Cain bombarded her with questions.
“Okay, I know what a lynx is, but what the hell is a spiny lynx? Is it just a lynx with spines sticking out the back? If so, why would it be enough of a problem to get a request put in at the Adventurer’s Guild? Aren’t lynxes just… one of those big predatory cats that climbs trees? Or is that a leopard… I should have watched more National Geographic.”
She swallowed. “First, I’ve never seen a ‘normal’ lynx, but yes, they’re basically big cats with spiky backsides. Second, they’re a problem because they don’t fear people and they’re great at scaling walls and cliffs. They’ll prey on whatever the easiest source of food is in their area, and that’s usually somebody’s livestock. Third, these ones don’t really climb trees. They make their lairs on mountainsides and in particularly rocky highlands, like goats with sharper teeth. Fourth… what’s ‘National Geographic?’”
She took another bite as Cain began to answer. “Don’t worry about it. I’d need to explain the whole concept of television, and then nature documentaries. The short of it is, it’s an educational program people can watch to learn about the different animals and ecosystems we had back on Earth. Now, how good are spiny lynxes at stealth? What are they like in combat?”
Magira swallowed again. “They’re pretty sneaky when they’re stalking their prey. They don’t have much camouflage, but they can move very quietly in rocky terrain. In combat… I’ve never fought or hunted one, but my mom always said that they were really fast pouncers, and that they’d use their claws to grab onto things and then bite them to death.”
“Wow,” Cain said. “Pretty brutal tactic. Just grab on to something and hit it ‘til it dies. But doesn’t that leave the lynx vulnerable? Or do they usually do it from behind?”
Magira swallowed a sweet roasted tomato. “They’re ambush predators. Probably from behind. Again, I’ve never fought one.”
“Right, sorry, dumb question.”
Cain fell silent, although Magira still had a surface-level view of his thoughts. She finished her skewer and moved onto the third as he considered all the various things he might have to contend with. She had convinced him that hunting a spiny lynx would be a decent first job, as they were somewhat common nuisances, but among the less dangerous monsters an adventurer could encounter. At least, she reasoned it to be, since her mother said it was one of the less dangerous beasts to hunt. She swallowed a fibrous chunk of turkey meat, torn between savoring the herbal spices and eating as quickly as possible. I haven’t had anything this tasty in ages.
Cain took a bite of his own skewer. “Huh, that is pretty good. A bit charred, but it has a nice flavor.”
“Charred? Are you mad? This is quality meat, right here.”
“Well, my dad told me the food on Earth used to be like this too.”
Magira swallowed early in favor of sating her curiosity. “What do you mean?”
“Well, undercooked meat can make people pretty badly sick, so people used to overcook their meat just to be safe. But as the appliances we used for cooking got better, we also started experimenting more with our cooking. People tested the limits of what was and wasn’t safe to eat. Because of that, we found out we could cook our meat at lower temperatures and end up with a juicier, more tender cut of meat that was still safe to consume.”
“That… does sound like something I’d like to try.”
“Maybe I’ll have to experiment with some cooking of my own, then.”
As they approached the western gate, Magira finished off her third and final skewer. Discarding the empty stick with a contented sigh, she turned her eyes towards the road ahead of them. Outside of the walls were sprawling ranches and farmlands, the former of which were boxed in by towering wooden fences — all of which had claw marks on a number of posts. Looking further down the road saw the ranches be entirely replaced by terraced farms as the upward incline grew steeper and the terrain grew rockier. As they passed under the arched gateway, the view opened up to a jagged mountain peak in the distance.
“Oh, wow,” said Magira. “Is that Mount Silim?”
“Don't know,” answered Cain. “I haven’t had the chance to buy a map yet. Do you know it?”
“I do. Somewhere on the other side of that mountain should be Jeröam — more specifically, the forest on its southern outskirts. During the summer months, my tribe’s migration route would take us closer to the border, where we could see Silim’s peak in the distance.”
Magira didn’t know where Fellgrave was in the world before seeing that mountain, and had thought captivity might have taken her farther from her home. It was a pleasant surprise to find it so close by. Tersaulis was a big continent, and most of it was settled by human powers. It’s still a long journey, but… maybe once Cain and I have found our feet, we can make it. It would be nice to see if Del is alright. Magira turned to look at her traveling companion and owner; he was staring at the mountain in the distance, his thoughts too muddled to make out clearly. I hope he doesn’t die anytime soon. He seems like a decent person, although some of what goes on in his head is concerning. Cain turned his head slightly, meeting Magira’s gaze. He smiled a small smile at her, then went back to looking ahead of them. She did the same.
Strange, but nice.