Dahlan woke up with a vile taste in his mouth. It wasn't anything he'd tasted before, and he hoped it wasn't anything he'd ever taste again. Retching, he tried to get out of bed, but found himself almost strapped down from the sheer amount of bedclothes on top of him. Gent sat atop the whole pile, watching Dahlan with inscrutable fascination.

Pulling himself back, Dahlan scooted upwards and looked around his small room. Nothing seemed out of place. His spare pair of clothes were neatly folded on the floor next to his bed, and his desk was scooted into the corner with a few crumpled pieces of paper scattered across it. The caryva from yesterday was leaning up against the wall. There was no other furniture in the room.

The door opened, and Gravin walked in. When he saw Dahlan sitting up, he smiled. "Good morning, Dahlan. Are you feeling better?"

Dahlan thought for a moment. "Did I eat something?"

Gravin smiled. "Not quite. You were suffering from minor mana drain, so I had you drink a potion to speed up the regeneration process. Granted, I could have given you a potion to immediately restore your pool, but those taste foul beyond belief. It's why they're only used in battle or natural disasters."

Dahlan grimaced. "But it tastes so bad!"

Crossing the room, Gravin sat down on Dahlan's bed. "I assure you, regeneration potions are quite tame in comparison. This should help a little, though." He handed him a half-full cup of rubinidine, and Dahlan gratefully drank it in one go. Despite the powerful tang of the drink, there was still a little of that rank, sour taste from before.

Gravin looked at the ground for a long moment. Dahlan slowly brought the cup back to his lips, taking a sip of nothing. Finally, he quietly said, "I must confess, you startled me quite badly. I hadn't expected the spell to go wrong so dramatically. Do you know what happened?"

Dahlan lowered the cup. "I don't know. When you said to make it move faster, I tried to push it, and it just sort of... left."

A look of understanding came across Gravin's face. "So when you tried to speed it up, you tried to simply hurl it forward?" Dahlan shrank down a bit. The way Gravin had phrased it made it sound like it was common sense not to do that. Gravin noticed and shook his head. "My apologies, Dahlan. I have never had a student, and it becomes all to easy to assume something one takes for granted as common knowledge when it is not. If you push mana, it will obey quite dramatically. In order to accelerate it, you must inhabit it with your mind and... spin it, for lack of a better word."

Taking a look at Dahlan's face, Gravin smiled. "I know that expression. Here, allow me to demonstrate." He raised a hand with his palm facing upward, and a small pulse of gently glowing pale orange energy flowed from his fingertips into the air. It collected into a small ball, its surface languidly moving in random directions. Dahlan leaned forward, curious. He'd seen plenty of Gravin's fire spells, but those were short-lived and hard to observe. This was much easier.

Gravin continued, "This might just be a ball, but for all sakes and purposes, it is functionally identical to a mana-infused caryva. At the moment, it is in a lethargic state where it has not yet become matter or magic made manifest. It is primarily flame-attuned mana, due to the nature of us salamanders, but can be easily changed to other elements. Do you understand?" When Dahlan nodded, Gravin said, "Now, watch." The ball slowly began rotating, faster and faster until its shape distended. In a few moments, it resembled a rapidly spinning donut of orange. The color gradually began to intensify as the speed increased, growing to a stronger shade.

Dahlan's eyes grew round as he watched, and Gravin scooted closer so he could see it better. "This is what is known as active mana. In other words, it can be altered to different types at this stage, simply because it is no longer in its original, lethargic state. Obviously, it can be changed to this state in far more efficient ways, but I wanted you to see it for yourself."

Looking down at his own hand, Dahlan tried to move his own mana outward, but it stopped at his palm, refusing to go further. Gravin noticed his expression. "Don't try to do it right now. I know you're tired. For now, just watch." Raising his hand, the donut of orange began to glow even brighter, and flame began to lick around its borders. Suddenly, the donut imploded, and a nearly perfect orb of fire expanded outward from its former center. Gent snagged his claws into Dahlan's blankets, leaning forward to give an experimental sniff.

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Dahlan's forehead creased. "So what was I doing wrong?"

Gravin smiled. "You said you tried to push it?" When Dahlan nodded, he said, "Mana cannot be manipulated from the exterior. When you pushed it, it used your mana as fuel and became a projectile, which is how you ended up draining yourself. When I spun this ball-" He indicated the ball of fire, which Gent was hungrily eyeing. "-I seized the mana as though it were still in my veins, as opposed to applying force. Movement translates to mana quite differently than it does to you or me. Push it from the outside, and it will move as though you had thrown it. Push it from the inside..." The ball suddenly compressed into a miniature sun of brilliant yellow light, and then dissolved into a small cloud. Dragonflies composed of pure flame erupted from it, buzzing rapidly around the room before fizzling away in a shower of sparks. Gravin finished, "...and there isn't much you can't do with it."

Dahlan slumped back into his pillows, and Gravin frowned. "Is something wrong?"

"It's just..." He scratched the back of his head. "I thought it'd be easier."

Gravin looked amused. "Let me guess. You thought you would pick up a wand and start tossing fireballs around like an expert, didn't you?" Dahlan flushed, and Gravin laughed. It wasn't a mocking laugh. It sounded more like someone who'd had a similar experience. "Magic is most assuredly more complex than that, but that doesn't mean it's out of your reach. Everyone starts somewhere. Even I was a novice once."

Dahlan blinked. He couldn't imagine Gravin as anything except a master salamancer. Trying to picture him as a kid struggling to move mana was impossible.

Gravin patted his knee through the blankets. "For now, rest. We can try again when you feel up to it."

Leaning forward, Dahlan eagerly said, "I'm up to it!"

Giving him a smile, Gravin said, "Fine, we'll try again when I think you're up to it."

Dahlan slumped in his bed, and Gravin mussed with his hair. "Don't worry, I won't make it too long. You should probably have tomorrow off as well. Use it to relax, unless you'd like to go over intrinsic mana theory as it relates to rubinidine harvesting methods." Dahlan hastily tucked himself under the covers, and Gravin stood up, moving to the door. He paused halfway through. "Rest well, Dahlan. I'll call you when dinner is ready."

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

That night, well after Gravin had gone to bed, Dahlan sat up. Gent had been sleeping on Dahlan's feet and got up groggily, gifting Dahlan's ears with a muted whine of complaint. Shushing him, Dahlan slipped out of his bed, picked up the caryva, and silently made his way to the backyard.

Far above him, the strands of lava that spread so elaborately across the ceiling during the daytime were dim, releasing sparks that slowly floated down like a carpet of stars. Spreading his legs, Dahlan got into what he assumed was a good stance and aimed the caryva forward.

Closing his eyes, he searched for the warm ball in his chest and found it. It felt smaller than before. Carefully, he pulled mana from it and tugged it towards the caryva. It complied, albeit slowly, and a slow glow of green wrapped around the caryva's blade. At least he'd known how to that correctly, but now it was time for the hard part.

Gritting his teeth, Dahlan focused, and the ribbon of green inhabiting the caryva's blade began to move. Creeping along the edge of the blade, it gradually began to intensify. A bead of sweat ran down Dahlan's forehead. It felt like he was wading through mud, a horrible experience he'd only had once but had never forgotten. Slogging forward, he made the ribbon begin to spin, a slow grind speeding up moment by moment.

His legs trembled and his arms shook, but he held on. The mana was a blur now, a disc of green rattling the caryva with its momentum. Dahlan's knuckles whitened as his grip tightened, and the streak intensified to white. He could feel it, like an extra sense he hadn't been able to identify before. It wanted to be something, to exist. So Dahlan let it.

Sparks began to fly from the disc, and Dahlan concentrated on them. He focused on the heat of them, the way they floated and danced through the air before dying out. The white light along the caryva flickered, briefly turned orange, and then vanished.

The strength left Dahlan's arms all at once, and he nearly collapsed. Only his grip on the caryva kept him standing.

I just don't understand why you choose to waste your time like this.

Dahlan sucked a breath in through his teeth, then painfully made himself stand straight.

You could be doing so much more with what you have on hand!

Recalling Gravin's stance from yesterday, he fixed the image in his mind and copied it. One foot slid back at a slight angle, the other grounded forward. Right hand two-thirds of the way up the caryva's length, left hand a quarter from the aft end. Chest tilted sideways, head aimed straight ahead.

Magic isn't easy, no matter what level you're at.

His grip tightened again, and he brought his tired attention to the minute ball of energy in his chest.

You're going to have to put in a lot of effort.

He pulled it to the caryva, and began again.