The children of Gedrost generally attended school for five years, between ages five and ten. During that time, missionaries from the church, like the [Preacher] of Gulwich, Votus, were responsible for giving a basic education in the functioning of the System, introducing kids to common skills, and examining them to see if any of them displayed a particular affinity. Some of these skills could be incredibly useful. A child, for example, that managed to get the Basic Navigation skill up to level 5 soon after their baptism, or even promoting it to Medium Navigation at level 10, might be recommended to apprentice to a [Cartographer], and someone with that skillset could, for instance, find their way through to a monster nest in the middle of a stormy night. Sam was not one of those pathfinding prodigies. Oh, sure, he had learned the directions, and knew how to read a map, but raising a skill requires challenges, and he had never bothered to face those. Why learn how to tell Avarwards from Winterwards from the sun’s position if you could pluck that information out of the air with a Divination spell?

It was this negligence that Sam was cursing with every breath in his body, as a mana-storm soaked his clothes and plucked apart his spells before he could even cast them. The mana-storms were one of the two phenomena that lent their names to the directions on the continent of Gedrost. Set to a map, the continent was bordered on the left by the Ichoran Desert, named after the city at its rightmost border. On the other side of the roughly circular continent was a massive, icy mountain range. Between the two, the climate was a gradient, growing warmer or colder as one moved Summerwards or Winterwards, respectively.

The mana storms defined the other axis, despite occurring only about twice a month. Around thirty times per year, a large thunderstorm formed somewhere on the bottom of Gedrost and began traveling directly upwards. The peculiar feature of these storms was that for the first half of their lifespans, they absorbed mana like a glass of water poured onto hot sand. Spells became exponentially more difficult to cast, and those with poor control over their mana could even feel a slight inebriation as the storm drew on their natural pools. As the storm moved upwards, or Generwards, the pull lessened, eventually reversing entirely and outputting mana in random, uncontrollable ways. As Gulwich was Avarwards of, or below, the center of the continent, the storms that passed overhead disrupted spellcasting.

“Come on, come on…” Sam muttered, gathering more mana into his hands. Rather than changing its type or shaping it, he let it loose almost completely freeform, using his WIL attribute to give it purpose. Like every previous attempt, the Divination spell was drained dry almost instantly, the storm dispersing the spell before the mana could interact with anything.

Sam sniffed and rubbed his nose with his sleeve, rainwater mixing with dripping snot. He looked around, seeing nothing but greyscale trees and dirt. The occasional flashes of lightning overhead provided more than enough light to fuel his [Unimpaired Sight] skill, but lost was lost, whether in broad daylight or the middle of a stormy night.

He racked his brain, trying to recall every tidbit of knowledge that Votus had tried to teach him as a kid, quietly muttering to himself in frustration. “The sun moves Summerwards, right?” He looked up at the night sky, shielding his eyes from the rain. “Tyld. I’ve lost the road, so I can’t go find that. My mana is being pulled away, so I can’t cast spells and monsters won’t be able to find me.” He paused, thinking over what he had just said. “Well, I’ll count that last part as a positive for now.”

“Ah… Ah… Choo!” Sam sneezed, then rubbed his nose again, scowling. “Okay, Sam, think.” He plopped down onto the ground and leaned his back up against a tree, the branches and leaves above providing a small bit of relief from the rain. “You’re lost, you’re getting sick, and you’ve got water running down your asscrack. What are you going to do?”

He held up a finger, counting off the first option. “One. I wait out the storm. Find some place to hunker down and hope I still have mana left afterwards.” He looked up and frowned. “I’m feeling the drain, so that one is probably not great unless I want to be lost, sick, wet and high.”

He held up a second finger. “Two. I pick a direction and start walking. I might find my way out, I might get to a part of the storm where I can cast, or I might end up keeping myself in the storm for longer. Two out of three desirable outcomes isn’t the worst.”

“And, I suppose,” he continued, holding up a third finger, “There’s that option. But it’s a crapshoot at best. A gamble. I’d just be betting that I’m stronger than a storm.”

There was a pause.

“Really,” he continued, running his fingers through his hair, matted to his scalp, “It would be arrogant to even try.”

A crack of thunder tore across the sky, setting Sam’s ears ringing.

He paused again, then sighed.

Crossing his legs, Sam straightened his spine and closed his eyes. With his fingers laced together in his lap, he steadied his breathing. As he slipped deeper into his meditation, the world seemed to slow, the sound of rain ebbing and flowing with each inhalation and exhalation.

In… and out.

In… and out.

In…

Mana. The by-product of sapience. The step between mind and matter. It could be altered to mold reality directly, or used to create new rules. But, before elemental, or higher elemental, or even command, there was Non-attributed Mana.

and out.

It wasn’t Sam’s typical fare, but he had once read a [Breaker], an advanced Dispelling Mage, describe Non-attributed Mana as ‘the soul made manifest.’ It was an understandable sentiment; unlike the ten elemental types of mana, Non-attributed mana remained fundamentally connected to the caster.

In…

All five subschools of Non-attributed spells, Body Reinforcement, Usurpation, Mind, Divination, and Dispelling, required intense manipulation and understanding. For those, the WIL aspect of the casting was much more important than the INT. Using Non-attributed Mana to cast a spell was not so much building a structure as it was using your mind in an entirely different way.

and out.

Divination was the art of using Non-attributed mana to bridge together the caster’s knowledge and the world around them. In fact, Sam’s original plan for finding monsters was to cast Divination spells until he found them. He knew, in broad terms, how monsters behaved and how they could be categorized. The spells would use that information as a starting point, interact with the world, and feed the results directly back to him. A trampled leaf, a hint of a foul scent… things few people would notice on their own, yet would be turned into a complete picture through the power of magic.

In…

I’ve got one shot at this. If my WIL isn’t high enough to control the spell, I’ll be out of mana.

and out.

In…

And GO!

He pushed the mana out of his head like splashing water, mentally imbuing it with the command to find home. The storm tugged on his spell like butcher hooks, straining it to its limits. Under the downpour, Sam’s forehead erupted in sweat. Whenever his focus flagged even the smallest bit, a part of his mana was ripped away, the information it had collected pulled away with it. Within seconds, his spell was already ragged and full of holes.

Desperately, he tried to grasp onto each piece as it tore away, losing his hold on something else as he tried to split his attention further and further. His [Split Focus] skill specifically only applied to different tasks, so it was useless now, a fact which Sam would have rued if he could have spared the time. Instead, he felt his hopes ripped into pieces as the storm did the same to his spell.

As the last shreds of his mana dissipated into the air, he flopped backwards, exhausted.

“Tyld,” he said, emphatically. He got to his feet, absentmindedly trying and failing to wipe some of the mud off his clothes. “I guess that means I’m back to option two, huh? Just walk straight and hope?” He sighed, and without a moment of hesitation, walked off to the side, diagonally to where he had been facing.

He started rubbing at his arms, feeling the chill starting to seep into his muscles. Grimacing, he looked around, his [Unimpaired Sight] growing less and less useful as the clouds darkened overhead.

“Ugh. Not now.”

In front of him stood a four legged creature, its head reaching up to Sam’s navel. Covered in bright yellow fur, with digitigrade legs and a long snout, it appeared rather similar to a dog, though with some major differences. Most notably, where ears would be on a dog, the creature had only smooth skin, and waving rhinophores instead of eyes. There were similar tentacle-like organs filling its mouth, writhing energetically like worms in a bucket.

Sam froze, his exhausted mind beginning to whirr. Monster! Okay, think, think. It must have found me through my spell. I’m pretty much out of mana, so fighting is off the table right out of the gate.

Very slowly, Sam lifted his back foot up, moving it just a teensy bit farther backwards, his eyes still locked on the stationary monster.

Gingerly, he placed his foot back down, toe first, his weight rocking back slightly.

The monster remained completely still. If not for the squirming tentacles in its mouth, it could easily be mistaken for a statue.

He repeated the process with the other foot, taking another slow step back. With the monster motionless, he turned the step into a pivot and sprinted forward, his chilled muscles pumping.

There was a flash of light and a breeze, the wind pushing the raindrops to the side, and Sam found himself once again face to... face with the monster. He ground his heels into the dirt, trying to bring himself to a stop before he ran into it. He managed to stop, but the mud slid out from under his feet, tipping him backwards onto his butt.

He scrambled back to his feet, splashing more mud over himself, and staring warily at the monster. Once again, it seemed completely immobile but for its squirming mouth.

Cautiously, he took a step to the side, eyes locked on the stationary creature. Then another, watching it carefully.

So far so good…

After several steps, he had moved in a small semi-circle, nearly on the opposite side of the monster from where he had started, and his spirits were lifting.

As he lifted his foot to take one more step, there was another flash of light, and the monster appeared practically right next to him, the surprise knocking him off balance and back into the mud. Hastily, he threw himself backwards, sliding himself back to where he had started.

Slowly, feeling the cold seeping through his clothes, he got up, spitting wet dirt out of his mouth and frowning. He took a few deep breaths, trying to settle his breathing, and shot an angry glance at the monster. Through the breaths, he caught an unusual scent, then sniffed the air, his frown deepening.

That smells like… ozone? I see, he thought, scanning his eyes along the ground and seeing the scorch marks against the rainy dirt, This must be a lightning-type monster. But what is it doing?

Abruptly, he shot his hand out, holding his index and middle fingers together like he was casting a spell, his legs tensed and ready to spring if the monster attacked. Instead, it remained completely still, not reacting to Sam’s rude gesture in the slightest.

It’s not attacking, so Power, Destruction, and Paralysis seem unlikely. It doesn’t seem to be altering my perceptions or mimicking anything, which rules out Dissonance, Disorder, and Entrapment. That leaves Isolation, Control, or Vengeance, all of which line up particularly well with the lightning attribute.

He fell deeper into his musings, keeping an eye on the monster in case something changed.

I think I can also rule out Control. From what I’ve read, those prefer ambushes. That leaves two possibilities. Either it’s trying to bait me into attacking it, or it’s trying to keep me here, alone, till I starve to death. Either way, it’s not going to take action unless I do.

He took a deep breath, then sat down and closed his eyes.

Oh, this is so stupid, he thought, his eyes shut tight. It’s probably just going to attack me now. Okay, no doubts, Sam. You need to get your mana back. Breathe. In and out. Forget the rain, forget the storm, forget the monster. In…

And- “Gah!” He yelled as his arms and legs spasmed, sending him awkwardly into the ground. With the front of his body buried in the mud and his limbs tingling and weak, he glared at the monster. “You shocked me, you bastard!”

His arm flopped, splashing more mud onto his face. “Just wait till I can move again! I’ll tear you to pieces!”

He narrowed his eyes at the immobile creature. “Are you... smug? You are!” He struggled to push himself up, twitching awkwardly and failing to make progress.

Sighing, Sam let himself relax, sinking down deeper into the mud as he stopped trying to force himself up. Well, He thought, What are my options now? I can try- “Gaaaaaahhhh!”

A scream tore out of his throat as the monster shocked him again, a flash of light originating from its eye tentacles. His jaw clenched as his body shook and he tried desperately to breathe through paralyzed lungs.

Somehow, he managed to hold onto his consciousness and gasp out a breath, guiding his twitching limbs together into the fetal position. Whether from cold or electrocution, he shivered, the monster as unflappably still as ever.

Slowly, gradually, as the [Scholar] began to regain mobility in his arms, he reached forward. Though still stiff, he sunk his fingers into the mud and pulled, dragging his body by an inch. Then another. With each tug, he drew a little closer to the monstrous dog, the tastes of mud and tears on his tongue. Addled and exhausted, thoughts ran through his head, ending abruptly and switching to others in a disjointed, messy chain.

I’ve gotta run… Really salty, huh. I wonder if… Must be Isolation type, right? If It’s disrupting… Shit, I’ve got to go to that party this weekend, huh.

He tugged again, the movement putting him directly face to face with the monster. Since he had last seen it, it had gotten much muddier, its mouth no longer writhing.

Ah! Close! Haha… You got dirty, you smug...

Something gripped him under the armpits and pulled, lifting him up and giving him a view of the two seperate pieces of the monster, its decapitated head having rolled forward through the mud. As he watched, it dissolved into a mass of yellow slime, sparkling with small lights and impurities. Fascinated, he watched it, even as the support from under his arms withdrew and his legs collapsed from under him.

Faintly, he heard something from above him, and he frowned. More? Do I have…? Maybe?

Something rolled him over onto his back, and he saw two blurry shadows extended over him. They looked to be misshapen and lumpy, both culminating in three points.

Monsters… he thought, Might as well try. He twitched his hand, the hint of a gesture enough for him to gather the sparse amount of mana that had recovered since his divination spell, and he barely thought before shooting it forward, doing whatever felt most natural.

He heard another sound, this one emphatic and startled, and saw one of the shadows shrink slightly. Eat that, he thought, feeling the exertion further tug at his mind, unraveling the last strings of consciousness. The last thing he saw was a flash of blue, a confirmation that his spell had formed successfully, letting him pass out with a smile.

You have cast Shadow Bolt! You have gained experience in the Medium Dark Magic dynamic skill!