I stared at the darkwood tree in front of me, holding a wood axe loosely in my hand. Tedor probably would have objected to my returning to the forest after Highsun, but I hadn’t really given him the chance to. While everyone cleaned up, I slipped into the drying house, stole one of the axes, and made my way into the forest. It wasn’t that I was really into being a lumberjack, or that I wanted to do my part. No, I wanted to play around with that odd feeling of channeling sunlight that I’d felt earlier. I knew that somehow, I was using magic, and I wanted to figure out exactly how it was working. Alone, I probably would have been shit out of luck, but I had an AI on my side. Plus, there was the notification I’d gotten after killing the cairniks.

Skill: Weapon Focus (Axes) has gained a level

Weapon Focus (Axes): Adept 1

Benefit: Ignore 1% of armor per skill rank

Profession: Warrior has gained a level!

New Level: 2

At every odd level of warrior, you gain:

Prowess and Skill +1

1 Skill Point

While the level hadn’t really done anything for me, the new rank of axes – and its benefit against armor – promised to be very useful indeed. For the moment, though, I was less interested in my skill and more focused on the idea of magic. Specifically, I was focused on the fact that Sara thought she knew how I was using it.

“Okay, Sara, so what’s the deal? You know how I’m using magic?”

“Well, I don’t know,” she hedged. “I’ve been working on unraveling how this world works, and I think I have a few ideas.”

That did seem to be the case. At least, according to the timer I pulled up, Sara was getting much closer to figuring out how this new world worked.

Doorworld: Soluminos

Magic Rating: 40-50

Tech Rating: 30-50

Bio Rating: 20-30

Estimated time for full analysis: 1:08:41

“That tech rating went up, didn’t it?” I asked.

“It did. My first projections were just a rough guess, and they were definitely off. Soluminos is more advanced than I suspected. Sorry about that; I’m still working out how to judge these things.”

“It’s fine,” I assured her. Honestly, I didn’t much care about the world’s tech level. It seemed to be about the same as late Medieval or early Renaissance Earth, and that felt like all I needed to know about it. “So, you have some ideas about how I’ve been using magic?”

“Yes.” Sara suddenly appeared before eme, as she tended to do when we were alone. I think she knew that I preferred it. It made me feel like I was talking to an actual person, rather than the voices in my head.

“As far as I can tell, you’re following the steps that Viora explained to you about spellcasting,” she spoke, her face thoughtful. “At least, up to a point. In fact, I think you’re doing four of the five things. You’re just skipping the part where you create a spell-form.”

I frowned. “Are you sure?”

“Sure? No, not sure. I’m just fairly certain, is all. You’re gathering power, obviously. You’re forming intent subconsciously by thinking what you want the magic to do. Then, you’re channeling spell energy, but instead of channeling it into a spell-form, you’re pouring it directly into your intent and releasing it from there. You cast a spell, but you did it without needing a spell-form.”

I hefted the axe and glanced down at it. “I thought that intent had to be extremely focused,” I argued. “Viora said that she had to study anatomy for years to be able to create a specific enough intent to heal.”

“Yes, and according to the book she gave you, that’s how it’s supposed to be.” Sara shrugged. “You seem to be skipping that part. You want something to happen, so it does. It’s like you’re casting spells instinctively, rather than deliberately – which I think is probably a bad idea.”

“Why? It’s been working, hasn’t it?”

“Well, yes, but so far, think about what you’ve done. You’ve healed yourself of some muscle fatigue and empowered your attacks a bit. Those are fairly small things, John, and they didn’t take a lot of power.”

“I did turn the hungering,” I reminded her. Even as I did, though, I knew what she was going to say next.

“Yes, and the backlash of it basically knocked you out. If it had been an even stronger spell, it might have killed you.” She shook her head. “I’m betting that you’re getting spell backlash even from those little spells and just aren’t noticing because the power expenditure is too small.”

She was right, of course. Turning the hungering left me functionally helpless. “So, you think that you have a way to keep that from happening?”

“I have an idea, nothing more.” She held up her hands, and an orange-red glow surrounded them. “What I think is happening, John, is that somehow, your mind is creating a spell-form without you even realizing it.” She gestured, and an elaborate symbol that reminded me of the pictures in Viora’s spell-book appeared on her forehead. The orange energy flowed up her arms and into that symbol, then disappeared into her skull.

“You’re pouring power into the spell-form in your mind, then channeling it through your body, out into the world.” Energy swirled around her arms and back into her hands, where it erupted into twin flames, one burning in each of her palms.

“The problem with that is the focus of the spell – really, the entirety of the spell – is in the middle of your mind,” she added. More orange energy swirled in a cloud around her, pouring into the spell-form on her forehead, and the flames in her hands grew into twin blades of fire. “And if your spell-form isn’t exact, or you end the spell early…”

The flames winked out, and the energy flowing through her surged back up her arms, into the symbol on her head, where it exploded in a blast of reddish energy. I winced as the power tore through her insubstantial skull; was that really what happened to me when I’d turned the hungering?

“Yes, except that in a way, it was both better and worse. You pulled a lot more power to do that than I just displayed, but somehow, you balanced the power so that it didn’t really hurt you.”

“Balanced it?”

She shrugged. “Ever since you turned those undead, John, I’ve been trying to replicate the effect in simulation form. I was in your thoughts when you did it, so I have some inkling of what you did, at least intent-wise. Every time I try to do the same, though…”

A massive amount of red energy rushed around her and plunged into a much more elaborate symbol, one that wrapped completely around her skull. The power poured into her head, seemed to rebound, and exploded in a burst of flame. I flinched involuntarily as the illusory fire rolled over me.

“It explodes,” she finished. “The power’s unstable, and it detonates. Technically, you should have died casting it – or at least been really, really hurt.” She grinned at me. “Since you weren’t, obviously, there’s something wrong with my simulation, and that makes me happy.”

“It does?”

“Oh, yes. The magic of this world is much more powerful and complex than that of Kuan Yang. I’m really enjoying figuring it out. It’s like a vastly complex puzzle, and I’m missing half the pieces. Once I find them…” She sighed. “That will be very satisfying.”

I couldn’t help but chuckle at her almost human sentiment. “Okay, so where do we begin? How do we turn my instinct into deliberate intent?”

“First, I want you to really think about what you want to happen,” she instructed. “Close your eyes if it helps.”

I looked down at the axe, then at the darkwood tree. What did I want it to do? I wanted it to cut into the tree, obviously. In fact, I wanted it to chop deeply into the wood and bury itself there.

“Not the axe, John,” Sara laughed. “The magic. What do you want to happen with the magic? What do you want it to do?”

“Oh, gotcha. Sorry.” I did close my eyes this time. What I wanted was for the magic to gather around me. I wanted it to roll down my arms and into the axe. When the axe hit, I wanted the energy to burst out of it, digging into the tree and cutting deep into the wood.

“And then, the axe will rebound and probably fly out of your hands,” Sara corrected. “Every action still has an equal and opposite reaction, John. Magic doesn’t change that – at least, not in this world.”

“Good point.” I grimaced. “This is much harder than just doing it, you know.”

“Nothing worth doing is easy, right?”

“Well, yes, but…” I sighed. “Fine. I’ll try again.”

My next thought was to let the energy pour through my arms and strengthen them, empowering each blow.

“That might work, but you’ll be feeling each impact in your hands. It might hurt a bit.”

I grunted, starting to feel a little frustrated. I’d already done this; that meant I had to know how to do it. Why was I struggling so much?

“Because you’re trying to reason out something you already know, John. Don’t think about it so much. What is your instinct suggesting?”

“My gut says to let the power pour down the axe with each blow,” I answered a bit grumpily. “But you said that was a bad idea…”

“Down the axe? You mean, around the outside, like a film of water?” She tapped her chin in thought. “That might work. I can’t see any immediate issues.” She nodded. “Okay, now you need to envision it happening.”

“Envision it? You mean, imagine it?”

“I mean, picture it in your mind, from start to finish, from gathering power around you to it coating the axe and driving into the tree.”

I sighed and tried to picture it in my head. The orange power swirled around me, wrapping about my body. It flowed into me, down my arms…

“Can you make flow around you?” Sara interrupted.

“What?”

“The energy. Can you make it flow without going through you?” She gave me a smile. “Remember, the whole point is to make the spell happen outside of your body, right? So, if you can channel the energy outside of you, I think that would be better.”

“Fine,” I sighed, trying not to grumble. I’d had the image, but with the interruption, I lost it. I started over from the beginning. The energy wrapped around me, flowing like oil or mercury down my arms, sheathing the handle of the axe in liquid power. It coiled around the blade, encasing it in a layer of red energy. The axe swung, chopping into the tree and sinking into it like it was a log of pine, not super-hard darkwood.

“Great,” Sara said enthusiastically. “Now, just try to hold that image in your mind. I don’t think you have to replay it or anything; just kind of keep the concept right in the front of your thoughts. Then, try to feel the sun on your skin, the way you did before.”

That was a lot harder. When I turned my thoughts to feeling the sunlight, I lost the already vague image of using the axe. When I focused too much on the axe and what I wanted it to do, I couldn’t feel the sunlight. Finally, I found a sort of halfway point where I wasn’t really focusing on either but could still see both in my thoughts.

“Perfect. I think that’s got it, John. Now, put the two things together. Pour the sun’s heat into the image you made, and will it to happen. Then, swing the axe and see how it works.”

I tried to do as she instructed, but the moment I did, I knew that something was wrong. The whole idea felt off somehow. The sun’s energy seemed too hot, too destructive for what I wanted to happen. The axe in my hands pulled oddly, as if it was off-balance. Warm was good, I sensed, but hot was bad. I needed something else, something to balance out the fiery energy.

Even as I thought that, the power flowing down me cooled to a gentle warmth, flowing down around my arms in a comforting embrace. I hefted the axe, swung it at the tree – and the weapon sunk in, burying itself almost completely in the dense wood. The energy flowing down my arms dissipated, and I yanked on the axe. It didn’t budge, wedged deeply in the wood, and I ended up having to lever the handle around, twisting the blade free with a loud thunk.

“That – was interesting,” Sara said, staring at me. “John, can you do that again?”

“I can try,” I shrugged. I called up the image of the magic-coated axe and felt the sun on my shoulders. Again, the fiery energy coursed across my skin, and once more, I cooled it off until it was simply warm, then sunk the axe into it. This time, I held the image as I yanked the weapon free, and it slid smoothly out.

“Huh,” Sara said, leaning forward and examining me closely. “What did you just do there?”

“What do you mean?” I asked, leaning back self-consciously.

“Well, you created the spell-form, just as I thought, and started to power it – but it looked unstable, like it was going to rupture. Then…it balanced, and it worked perfectly.”

“How did I balance it?” I looked down at the axe, which looked perfectly normal in my hands.

“I have no idea. It’s like you scaled back on the energy – or spread it out somehow. I’m not sure how that’s possible, but you did it.” She grinned at me. “And I’ll bet it’s how you turned those hungering, John. Somehow, you know how to balance a spell that would otherwise explode catastrophically. That’s pretty impressive.”

“I would be more impressed if I knew what I was doing,” I countered.

“So would I, but we’ll figure it out eventually. In the meantime, you should practice that until you can do it without effort, and maybe we can work on that healing spell you do.”

“I’d like to do that fire thing you showed me earlier,” I laughed. “I could see that being useful, for sure.”

“Absolutely. Go ahead and hit the tree again, John. I want to keep watching this.”

I spent the afternoon hacking at the darkwood tree, although I didn’t spend much time working on that first trunk. My axe cut deeply into it with every blow, and within fifteen minutes, I’d cut a notch extending halfway into it. I shifted to the other side of the tree, and fifteen minutes later, my axe sheared through the last of the trunk. I stood back and watched as it crumpled to the ground in a heap, then moved to another. That one came down just as swiftly, and I moved to the fallen trunks, clearing the branches from them with ease.

Once I felled and cleaned a third tree, I checked my waiting notifications and couldn’t help but grin.

Spell Created: Solar Strike

Raju Required: 4 Solar

You empower a weapon with Solar Raju. Your next strike ignores 90% of armor or non-solar resistance.

New Stat Unlocked: Solar Raju

Solar Raju: 67

Solar raju is the magical energy that powers solar magic on Soluminos. Your pool of solar raju is based on your Intuition and vigor stats and can be increased by taking specific professions.

Profession Unlocked: Sorvaraji

Unusual

A spellcaster who uses solar raju to aid, heal, and empower others.

Profession Unlocked: Razvaraji

Unusual

A spellcaster who uses solar raju for combat purposes.

Partial Adaptation!

You have begun to adapt to the Doorworld of Soluminos!

Adaptation Level: 30%

Bonus: Physical stat penalties reduced by 25%

“Yes!” I whooped aloud, excited to see the new stat in my screen. I could feel the solar energy roiling around me, ready to be tapped and used. Even better, my body suddenly felt stronger, surer, and more coordinated as some of the penalties to it rolled away. “That’s what I’m talking about!”

“What’s what you’re talking about?” a voice spoke, and I whipped around, my axe at the ready. I lowered it at once when I realized that it was only Renica, with her huge canine trotting at her side.

The woman slipped out of the trees and smiled at me. “I saw you sneak away while everyone was cleaning up,” she told me.

“And you decided to follow me?” I sighed.

“Of course. I thought to myself, ‘Where could Ionat be going, and why is he headed alone into the Darkwood?’.” She laughed. “I never imagined it would be to cut down a tree.”

I shrugged. “I didn’t think anyone would mind.”

“Tedor would. He forbade his team to return to the darkwood, remember?”

“I’m not on his team,” I pointed out with a chuckle.

“That’s a shame,” she shrugged, walking over to the most recent fallen log and squatting down. “I saw how fast you cleared this. I don’t think the entire logging squad could have cleaned a trunk that quickly.” She looked up at me. “How did you do that, Ionat?”

I considered lying to her, quickly creating and tossing aside a half-dozen possible explanations. None of them made explained how easily I’d chopped through the hard, tough darkwood branches, at least not in a way that didn’t sound ridiculous. Eventually, I decided to go with the truth.

“Magic,” I said simply.

She nodded, then swiftly brought her crossbow up to point at my chest, taking several slow steps back as she did. “Are you a Lomoraji, Ionat?” she asked quietly. “Maybe one who’s driving the forest creatures into a frenzy?”

I looked at her, then down at the crossbow. She was only about ten feet away, far too close for a ranged weapon. If I darted sideways, she’d probably pull the trigger on reflex and miss me, and I’d be on top of her before she could even think of reloading. I wouldn’t hurt her, of course, but I could disarm her, so she didn’t hurt me, either. And if it weren’t for her cairnik, I might have considered doing that.

The big canine stepped up beside her, its head low and a growl building in its chest. Again, I was sure I could take it – a solar-empowered axe blow to its head would put it down in a hurry – but that would require killing it. And if I killed Renica’s dog, I’d probably have to kill her, too, or she’d do the same to me first chance she got.

Instead, I lowered my axe and sat down on the log, making myself as vulnerable as possible. “Viora told you about the augury,” I nodded.

“Of course. I heard it, and I know the Darkwood better than anyone. Who else would she tell?”

“Then she must have told you the whole thing,” I chuckled, looking around. “Does this look like the heart of the Darkwood to you, Renica? Plus, the moons aren’t up. How could I use lunar magic during the daytime?”

She stared at me, her lips pursed, then raised the crossbow to her shoulder. “Good points,” she admitted. “So, how did you…”

“I read Viora’s spell-book,” I cut her off. That much was true, at least.

“So have I,” she laughed. “It doesn’t make any sense, Ionat.”

“It did to me,” I bald-facedly lied to her. “At least, some of it did.” I held up my axe. “There’s a spell that adds solar magic to a weapon, letting it cut through defenses. I sort of used it to kill those cairniks earlier, but I wanted to perfect it, so I came out here to practice on the trees.”

I concentrated on the spell and gathered a cloud of wispy orange energy around me. I slammed the axe down on the trunk, and the weapon sank into the wood, all the way to the haft. I slipped it free and dropped the spell, lowering the axe.

“Let me see that,” she stepped forward, holstering her crossbow and reaching for the axe. I gave it to her willingly and stepped back as she hefted it, then brought it down on the log. Her form wasn’t great, and the axe twisted when it hit, leaving a thin mark in the bark but not biting into the wood at all. She lifted it up and stared at it, then at the gash I’d left.

“That explains how you killed those cairniks,” she said after a moment, shaking her head. “I was wondering about that. Cairniks are tough, and their hides resist most blows.” She patted her crossbow. “Even this has trouble hurting them unless I get a perfect shot. You shouldn’t have been able to hurt them so easily, much less kill them.”

I rose to my feet and took the axe back from her. “Satisfied?” I asked.

“Not remotely,” she laughed. “The Sorvaraji spent decades learning magic, and you picked it up by reading a couple books? That’s just one of the mysteries surrounding you, Ionat.”

She stepped back and pointed to the edge of the clearing. “However, for the moment, I’m willing to put that mystery aside. You need to come with me back to the village.”

I gestured at the logs I’d cut. “What about these?”

“Were you going to drag them back all by yourself?” she laughed. “You’ll need a wagon to carry those, and it’s too late to get one. Serghei can have a couple people escort Tedor back to pick them up tomorrow.” She looked at me. “It’s important, and I don’t think you should miss it.”

“Fine,” I sighed. “I was almost done anyway. Let’s go see what’s so important.”