Kirin, the foremost expert on the style of magic used by the Trydans sipped at his tea, emitting an aura of contemplation as he did so. For someone supposedly proficient at the element of lightning, the man was perplexingly slow. Likely because he was nearing 80 years of age. A good enough excuse, Lock supposed.

He also drank from his tea, letting the relaxing atmosphere of the small cottage work its wonder. He'd missed this. Talking to someone his age. It reminded Lock of the fact that he was indeed an old man. It was easy to forget sometimes. The only things he had of his old age, were memories. Memories incompatible with the current situation one could almost say. A young, virile body. An environment that treated him like he was sixteen, for obvious reasons. What he'd been doing ever since he'd killed his Grandfather suddenly seemed very rushed.

A crack resounded throughout the warm room as Lock broke and crushed the clay pot of tea in his hand, the shards digging into his flesh. Tea and blood splashed onto the table, quickly creating a puddle.

Clarity returned to Lock's mind along with the pain.

“An interesting technique.” He commented idly as he brought up his hand to see the damage. Hardly any really, Endurance was such a useful stat. Putting down his hand and starting to remove the shards, he met Kirin's cobalt eyes.

The man seemed slightly less calm now. A sigh escaped his lips. “Has anyone ever told you that you are dangerously perceptive for your age?” He asked Lock in a raspy voice.

Lock shrugged and ignored the question. “Bioelectricity in the brain, weakening the activity of the brain regions responsible for aggressive behaviour, threat discernment and healthy scepticism. I don't know the specific terms for the brain regions but that's basically the technique in a nutshell, isn't it?” Lock shot back.

“And how did you know it was an electricity based technique?” Kirin asked. “It could just as well have been something in the tea, or an air-based poison that dulls the mind.”

“You've were referred to me as a master of magic, not as a master of poisons. People are too often afraid of making the most obvious conclusion. A foolish fear.” Lock replied.

Kirin held up a finger, it flashed a light electric blue and an annoying tingle that he hadn't even been aware of disappeared from the back of Lock's mind.

“Perceptive indeed.” Kirin muttered before waving his hand, as if trying to disperse all that had occurred previously. “Regarding your understanding of the spell electro-sense, and how it relates to the heart of lightning within every Trydan, you are for the most part correct. The only reason I do not say that you are completely correct is because I genuinely do not know if Kamin's mana reserves are small enough to feel the electrical charges present in everyday objects such as furniture and walls.” The man said, seemingly finished, before he opened his mouth again. “Also you need to work on your metaphors, the one with the sand was truly horrendous.” He finished.

Lock made to reply but the old man interrupted him, wispy grey hair whooshing around as he nodded his head. “I have a solution though. Shackles that deplete the mana of the user to the bare minimum, not killing them. It's termed as an attack, not as training, so the mana capacity will not rise.”

“Good.” Lock replied and calmly stared at the still sitting man. Who was truly not making any move to stand up from his plush yellow armchair. The opposite rather, he seemed to be sinking into it even further.

Lock remained silent and also leaned back, trying to out-comfort his adversary. Eventually the man sighed and rose. “I'm old, I don't have time to waste unlike you young people. I'll get the shackles, in return don't tell anyone about my little mind trick alright?” The man stated as he left the room, to presumably retrieve the artefact.

He walked quickly now. Seemed quite spry now that he wasn't stalling for time so that his mind-altering spell would take effect. Just to be sure that the man had indeed stopped using he pricked his finger. Under the table of course, the man had been capable of deducing that he wasn't a complete moron from his words. It would be unwise to give away that he was paranoid as well. Deciding that if he was doing this he was going all the way, he stuck one of the ceramic shards into his steel greaves.

That way he could hurt himself whenever he wanted without anyone noticing.

Kirin eventually came back, dropping one rusty brown shackle onto the table. Lock was hesitant to touch the disgusting thing, slightly afraid of tetanus, but managed to overcome the irrational fear. He had Endurance now. He was a superhuman. Touching the shackles he channelled some mana into them, only for all but the last drop he had in his body to be violently absorbed in naught but a second.

This. Was useful.

He wondered if he could resmelt these things into a dagger, or even better, a barbed needle. He could incapacitate many mages with this.

The mana he'd lost had let him confirm one thing, before it's unceremonious demise. Enchanted items sent back a sort of ping whenever they were confronted with an individual's mana. The shackles hadn't, and were thus not enchanted. Which made sense, making an enchantment that sucked in mana was sort of self-defeating, since it would then eat the mana fuelling it, destroying itself.

“What's the material?” Lock asked, causing Kirin to mutter something.

“Dimiterium.” He eventually grumbled out. “A rare metal used exclusively by elves.”

“Can't have been easy developing a technique to insulate oneself from the effects.” Lock mumbled as he once again touched the shackles. Abruptly losing the miniscule amount of mana he'd regained since his last attempt.

Kirin threw his hands in the air.

“Especially while in prison.” Lock finished.

“I give up!” The old man suddenly shouted and stood up, far too quickly for his blood pressure probably as he quickly sat back down afterwards. Giving out a defeated he feebly shook a fist in Lock's direction. “Why even come here if you're so smart.” He grumbled.

Lock laughed. “The only winning move, when confronted with an intelligent person who wants something from you, is not to play.” He said, words interspersed with chuckles. “You can stop faking your outrage by the way. You mentioning the fact that it was elves exclusively who used this metal, and the fact that what you've brought me are shackles, made the entire thing pretty obvious.”

“You're such a little piece of shit.” The old man said hatefully, glaring at him. “Have to say, it's refreshing.” He finished, a boyish grin suddenly taking up most of his face.

“What's the trick to not having your mana sucked up?” Lock asked curiously, only for the man to hold up a hand.

“Just a moment, I understand how you deduced that I was in prison. Shackles, elves, that little skirmish fifty years ago. Alright, easy enough, but how the hell did you know that I had a way of avoiding the dimiterium's effects.” The man asked.

“Well, you brought me the shackle without insulating your skin against it in any way. You're the foremost expert on the Trydan family magic, which likely makes you a veteran of several battles. I just can't imagine that a veteran would be comfortable with confronting someone he doesn't know that well without a drop of mana in his bod-” Lock started, only for Kirin to interject waving his arms in a way mildly reminiscent of some martial art Lock had forgotten the name of.

“Maybe I know kung-fu?” The old man said jokingly.

“Even if you did, at your age you're more likely to hurt yourself than me.” Lock shot back with a smile.

Kirin brought a hand to rub at his beardless chin. “True. Also, yes, true deduction. Spot on, truly, a genius. Or maybe not. Truth is, I care not either way if I die or not. The reason I didn't let the shackle take my mana is because the process hurts like frick. The bigger your mana reserves, the bigger the pain. Which allows me to deduce, that your mana reserves, are tiny.” The man finished with a pleased smile, pointing a shaking and accusatory figure at Lock.

Unwilling to have anybody know too much about his capabilities Lock promptly pulled out one of his daggers and unceremoniously rammed it into the flesh left open between his gauntlets and his chain mail. He kept up a pleasant smile all the while.

Kirin lowered his finger, reminiscent of a chastised puppy. “Or maybe you just have a high pain resistance.” He grumbled. “Something that you'll need if you're actually planning on having Archie's precious little angel wear a shackle. It shouldn't really hurt anyone with her reserves, but oh the symbolism.” The old man suddenly said.

“He seemed quite emotional when matters regarding here were brought up.” Lock said.

“Bah.” The old man scoffed. “You don't know the half of it. He would have spoiled her rotten anyway since she was his first daughter, but her mother dying at birth, and the birth defect, only made the situation worse.” He seemed to lose himself in his thoughts after those words.

“You think I'll experience actual pushback, or just the hints thereof?” Lock inquired, receiving a shrug.

“Well considering the measures that he took to get me on board with this entire thing, I hope that there won't be any obstructions in my path.” Lock said, went for a sip of tea, and remember that he'd smashed his pot.

“He's an idiot regarding anything that has to do with his daughter. I wouldn't set my hopes too high.” Kirin replied, before throwing a ring that sparked with electricity onto the table. “Take this while you're at it. Your plan has potential, I'd hate to see it fail because you lacked the proper equipment.”

Lock picked up the ring and curiously channelled whatever mana he had into it. The ring shocked him and he raised an eyebrow at the old man.

“While lowering her base mana was a good idea, that's only thinking in one direction. You also need something that is sufficiently charged so that she will be able to pick up on it at first.” Kirin explained.

“Thanks. If I may ask however, why aren't you the one training her?” Lock said, at which the man simply replied.

“I prefer my students to be motivated, talented and intelligent. The story tells itself really.”