Elena's violet eyes narrowed as she peered at Cal while started preparing the campfire. "You're certain you want to know?" Her voice was filled with curiosity.

Cal met her gaze, the blue of his own eyes steely with resolve. "Yes," he said, his tone leaving no room for doubt.

"Very well." With an amused tilt of her head, Elena conceded.

She turned back to the fire, the glow illuminating her silhouette as she reached back into her space treasure. Another direhog leg, hefty and wild, found its place skewered above the flames. Hands moved deftly, like those of a seasoned alchemist rather than a cook. From her collection, Elena retrieved small jars and pouches, their contents mysterious and pungent.

"See this?" She held up a vial with a crimson powder. "A pinch of firethorn—careful, it bites back." Sprinkled over the sizzling meat, the spice joined the symphony of aromas.

Cal watched confused. But he was transfixed by the way Elena handled and spoke of each ingredient: a dash of moon salt here, a sprinkle of crushed black nectar petals there. Each movement was precise, each addition calculated. A practiced ease in her every gesture suggested countless nights spent perfecting the craft.

The direhog began to crackle under the heat, the scent blossoming into the cool night air. It was a dance of spices and flame, a ritual of taste far removed from any espionage playbook Cal knew. Yet here he was, learning still.

The meat hissed, spattering fat onto the fire as Elena adjusted the spit with a caution that belied her usual brash demeanor. "Not too close," she instructed, voice tinged with seriousness. "You want it to kiss the flames, not marry them."

Cal frowned, moving closer, but not to heed her culinary wisdom. "I was hoping to learn more about..." The words trailed off, lost in the savory haze wafting from the direhog leg.

"More what?" Elena prodded, arching an eyebrow. She nudged him aside, taking control of the seasoning ritual. "Cookery is an art, and survival. Pay attention."

"Sure," Cal muttered, half-distracted. He watched her sprinkle a fine dust over the sizzling surface. The scent ambushed his senses, derailing his protest.

"Balance in everything," Elena continued, waving a slender hand over the heat, gauging its intensity. "Too much, and you'll scorch it; too little, and we're eating raw beast."

"Uhh huh," Cal echoed, his stomach growling louder than his skepticism.

Elena's lips curled into a smile at the sound. "See? Even your gut understands."

"Fine, fine," he conceded, inhaling deeply. His objections dissipated like the smoke around them.

As the cooking wrapped up, Cal turned to the real matter at hand. He pulled his own space treasure from under his blazer, unassuming yet full of secrets. He snatched it up, holding it out toward Elena. "This is what I meant to ask about."

"Huh? You mean you didn’t want to learn how to cook? What a waste.” Elena pouted.

“Not a waste, this smells delicious.” Cal went forward and grabbed a leg.

“The space bag," Elena said, wiping her hands on her tunic. "Simple enough."

"Right." Cal's eyes narrowed. "But how do I... use it?"

"Imagine it as a door," she began, reaching over to tap the fabric. "Your mana is the key. Think of the item, then reach inside. What more is there?"

"Think and reach," he repeated, skeptical but willing to try.

"Go on," Elena encouraged, nodding. "It's about focusing on the concept."

Cal was flustered. “What if you don’t know what is in the bag?”

“Heh. Some loot? Better hope it’s not tracked. Same concept, you just flood it with mana instead.”

“Uh, but how do you use mana?” Cal's fingers closed around a charred direhog leg, its heat seeping into his skin. He lifted it to his lips, hesitated for the briefest moment, then took a bite.

The meat was tender, succulent, and as the rich flavors exploded on his tongue, a warmth unfurled within him—comforting, like sinking into a hot bath after a day in the cold.

This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

"Good, isn't it?" Elena asked, her eyes gleaming with a mix of pride and curiosity.

"Better than good," he admitted, the words muffled by another mouthful. The sensation was more than taste; it was as if the food nourished more than just his body—it touched something, something vital.

"Temp," Cal called out silently, communicating through their internal link. "Any changes? Anything at all?"

A pause, then Temp's voice, crisp and mechanical, resonated in his mind. "Scanning complete. No physical or chemical abnormalities detected. Your body functions remain within optimal parameters."

"Are you sure?" Cal pressed, almost disappointed. "Nothing?"

"Affirmative," Temp confirmed. "The data is clear."

Cal frowned, then smiled taking another bite. The lack of change puzzled him – the meal filled him with an inexplicable vigor. Whatever magic this food held, it seemed to work in subtle ways, undetectable to Temp.

Cal set the direhog leg down, licking the remnants of flavor from his fingers. He eyed Elena with a mix of embarrassment and curiosity. "How do you see and use mana?" he asked again, seeking clarity amidst the arcane.

Elena chuckled, her violet eyes glinting in the firelight. "That’s simple. You just do." Her tone was light, almost teasing. "Why would you ask such a question?"

"Mana? I can’t even see it." It felt foreign on Cal's tongue, a concept as elusive as the shadows that danced at the edge of their campfire. He narrowed his blue eyes, trying to grasp the idea.

A laugh escaped Elena, and she brought her hand to her forehead in a dramatic facepalm. "Oh, Cal. It's like asking how to breathe." She straightened, her posture shifting into one of instruction. "Don’t tell me you haven’t structured your aethercore yet? "

"Is it anything like structuring your soul?" Cal ventured, searching for parallels in his known world.

"Similar," Elena conceded with a nod. "But it's to the Aether rather than the Primal. You strengthen your aethercore, piece by piece. It's there, even if it’s not solid like a beast’s core yet." Her hands moved through the air, sketching invisible patterns. “Unlike the primalcore which you structure outside in, the aethercore is structured inside out. You build.”

"Piece by piece," Cal repeated, envisioning the process. "And then?"

"Then what. Cal these are the basics – you can use the mana around you. For support skills, you pull from the world around you, draw it in. For dao-bound skills you rely on your core," Elena's voice was patient, but her eyes betrayed the hint of amusement.

To Cal the concept was abstract, and entirely out of reach. “Uh, so then how do I structure my aethercore, is there a fruit for that as well?”

"Here, I just happened to have an extra – most people eat these like candy to help them form a solid stage-two core." Elena said, the word slicing through their previous lesson. She extended a hand toward Cal, and nestled in her palm was a small fruit that pulsed with an inner light. It was as if it contained a piece of the night sky itself, stars captured within its translucent skin. Her violet eyes twinkled, and the corner of her mouth turned up in a playful smirk.

"What is this?" Cal's attention shifted from the concept of mana to the tangible item before him.

"Mana fruit," she answered, pulling it back slightly as he reached out. "Aids in feeling the energy and starting the process of structuring."

He nodded, his hand still lingering in the air between them. "Thank you. I'll take it." His voice was a mix of curiosity and necessity.

"Ah, but it comes with a price." The mischief in her gaze magnified. "Nothing’s free after all. How about some mana crystals?"

Cal's hand dropped to his side. His mind raced; his pockets were empty. "I don't have any," he admitted, the words tasting bitter on his tongue. He had been prepared for many things in this strange world, but not for extortion. Didn’t she steal his down payment from Mara?

"You sure spend your crystals quick," she quipped, watching his fruitless search.

With a resigned sigh, Cal withdrew his hand from his bag, empty. He looked at Elena, a sigh creeping into his posture. She stepped forward, the mana fruit still in her grasp, its faint glow casting a soft light on her features.

"Here," she said, extending the fruit toward him once more. "You owe me one."

As he took it, their fingers brushed, and a charge sparked between them—a connection that went beyond the transaction. "Why are you helping me?" Cal couldn't keep the wariness from his voice.

"Because," Elena began, her smile softened, transforming her mischievous expression into something resembling genuine warmth, "having an aethercore is essential here. It will let you sense the mana around you—feel the world breathe and pulse with power. Without it, you're blind."

Cal turned the mana fruit over in his hand, its surface smooth and inviting. He sensed the weight of her words, the gravity of the gift she offered. He understood now, this was more than a mere fruit; it was a key to this world—an entry point to the unseen currents of energy that flowed around him.

"Thank you," he muttered, acknowledging the debt.

Cal held the mana fruit up to the light, its surface catching the glow like fine crystal. The strange sensation it evoked was undeniable—his body yearned for its power in a way it never had for the soul structure fruit. This was different, necessary. A twist of his gut told him so.

He continued, locking eyes with Elena. "I can't say I understand all this yet, but I know it's important."

"Trust me, Cal. It's more than important," she replied with a wink.

The air between them was thick with unspoken understanding. He'd stepped into her world, and she was the guide he hadn't known he'd needed.

Cal chuckled, rolling the fruit in his palm. "Let's hope I'm a quick study."

"Or that you're as good at adapting to mana as you are to setting things on fire," Elena quipped, her violet eyes twinkling with humor.

Their laughter mingled, an unexpected harmony in the midst of chaos. For a moment, the horrors lurking in shadowed corners and the uncertainty of alien skies were forgotten. Cal found a rare comfort in the shared jest, a fleeting camaraderie amidst an ever-twisting path.