Mason stared at the now inert golden ball closely. Something within him screamed out that he should be cautious, but he couldn’t easily identify the source of his worry. Maybe his instincts had simply grown paranoid of everything around him.

He cast Analyze, but rather than a clear indicator showing up in his status log, he merely got a vague impression that this orb was somehow the combination of something living with something very magical. One glance at the intricate runes on its surface would have made that clear, though. Grunting in annoyance, he put it away, and made a mental note to himself to work on improving his analyze ability, and doing some serious research into runes.

“Can we rest first?” Mason called after the archer who was skulking away.

“And risk more of those guardians showing up?” He sneered in response.

Mason put up his hands, “Better that we rest and fight more of those with some energy in us, than stumble into something worse while we’re exhausted. It takes more out of me to use all of those spells than you might think. I’m really still not accustomed to mana usage like that.”

Grunting, Leornal motioned to turn around, and the two trekked back into the offices before the wide sky-bridge. Mason almost laughed as he looked in through the doorway; time had done its damage, but the wanton destruction of the guardian orbs had been massive. Holes almost large enough to crawl through dotted the walls, and the increasingly strong glow lights lit up the dusty air leaving the rooms an eerie blue and green color.

Mason settled himself on a pile of what looked like cloth strips and plaster dust and turned inwards. First, he checked his notifications from the last fight.

He had gained two points in mana tolerance, mana-blade and staff specialization, one in mana sight, focus, footwork, mana manipulation, and glamour. Most impressively though, he had gained three in mana vampirism, which made up for how long it had been since he had improved that ability.

Demon of the Darkest Night:

Amateur Magical Slayer

Level 3 (33FP)

Health: 24/63 (2.6/hr)

Mana: 12/35 (2.5/hr)

Mana (Mardun): 9/35

Stamina: 17/75 (3.3/min)

Strength: 6 (0)

Agility: 6 (+1)

Intelligence: 9 (0)

Willpower: 8 (0)

Vitality: 6 (0)

Endurance: 7 (0)

Creativity: 6 (+2)

Active Skills: Focus (16), Mana Vampirism (10), Analyze (7), Life Drain (6), Recovery (8)

Passive Skills: Equip (5), Staff Specialization (15), Blade Specialization (11), Footwork (2)

Mana Arts: Mana Sight (14), Mana Manipulation (15), Mana Tolerance (22), Mana-Blade (3), Shadow Stalk (10), Glamour (4), Stamina Drain (3)

Then he turned his mind’s eye to the rune. With so much going on, he had trouble remembering it at first, even with Mowrytal’s help imprinting it deep within him, but he figured that the process of recalling it and trying to conjure its shape could only help him improve his comprehension. Though it shifted and changed, it had to have a definite shape, something that could identify it, and he would draw on that concept.

Slowly he began to move his hands through the shape of it in the air in front of him, rehearsing it in a trancelike state. The rune grew bigger in his focus, taking up more and more of his mental energy and awareness. He felt dizzy, but he was detached even from that sensation as he drilled his attention into the rune as if it were the last source of life within him.

The rune was power, it was something deeper than mana. It was the electrical circuit and his pool of mana was the battery. But he didn’t have any of the background in runecraft as an electrician would designing a circuit board. He didn’t know how the rune pushed and pulled and shaped the power, but, then again, neither did he understand how a transistor converted one electrical signal to another.

All he had to do was press the power button, and trust the machine to do its work. If he could only shape the rune properly, hold its image before him and then press his mana into it…

For a split second, the rune was whole, and he saw a streak of his mana pass through its loops and curves. One tiny point of mana stretched and becoming something altogether different.

“What the hell are you doing?” Leornal called over, throwing a fruit that resembled a blue orange at Mason’s head.

Mason shook trying to bring his mind back to reality, remembering where he was, what he was doing. “Um, I was,” he stumbled, seriously uncertain for a moment. “Trying to grasp a rune that Mowrytal had showed me.”

The look on Leornal’s face made it clear that he hadn’t expected that answer. He looked upset, but then mostly uncomfortable. “Oh, well. I didn’t mean to interrupt. You should be careful though,” he took a big bite out of the exposed fruit in his own hands, “If you mess up a spell it can cause some pretty big messes. Human spellcasting might not even be the same as a Darkest Night’s spell. Try not to blow us up.”

“You use runes for your force spells, right? How did you learn it?” Mason’s curiosity won out to his annoyance, now that he remembered how close he really had been. Maybe a teacher would have its value.

“We’re taught from childhood the basics of spell rune comprehension. Most people don’t use many spells, just some basic utility tricks: light conjuration, reduced weight, that sort of thing. The force magic that we all use actually wasn’t even made for combat. It was repurposed by one of the warriors that trained Torysen, and passed down to the rest of us for self-defense.”

“Why wouldn’t you all want to know every spell you could?” Mason asked, almost shouting. “It’s literal god damn magic!”

“Why aren’t you a better swordfighter, you idiot? You don’t learn something that’s not going to be relevant unless it’s just fun for you. Not all of us really cared for spellcrafting. It’s hard, for one. And for two, well, it’s just really fucking hard. Especially combat magic,” Leornal’s brows scrunched up as he finished. “Not all of us can be legends, and once we learn spell runes we’re actually barred from the real magic. Source Magistry, now that’s an odd profession.”

“You sound a bit resentful for someone with some pretty strong archery skills,” Mason pointed out.

“Those aren’t even spells. Mana helps add some force to them, sure, but for the most part they’re just skills that the Trials helped me master. The scatter shot just pumps enough mana into the arrow to blow it up, then manipulates them so that they stay solid and maintain a general trajectory. If I had an actual spell rune for it I could unleash some serious firepower.”

“Okay, then let me talk to Mowry for a minute,” Mason said as Leornal grunted and turned away.

Mowry was chuckling as Mason’s eyes opened in that soul place within him. “You antagonize him every time your abilities manage to solve problems that his skills cannot,” he explained.

“I seem to have the ability to piss people off at a prolific rate,” Mason agreed.

“Leornal was not far behind me when I left to scout ahead of the tribe. He took to the Trials quickly, becoming quite adept with the bow, and was given a lot of options for how to serve the Darkest Night.

“All those honors, and now here he is trapped in a city with someone who uses forbidden magic accidentally, and somehow seems to be closing the gap between you and him effortlessly. If I weren’t reliant on your power, even I would be offended.”

Mason shrugged as well as he could in the strange bindings of that place, “Well I’m not here to let myself die so someone else can keep their ego. I’d rather get stronger.”

“And that’s why you’re here? We saw the rune form. If you had a bit more concentration and a better grasp of mana manipulation, you might have been able to cast it with that last attempt.”

“And then all you’d need is another month of practicing before you could use the spell while you were actually in the middle of a fight,” Geralt added unhelpfully from his corner.

Mason ignored him, “I think it would help if I knew what this rune was supposed to do. If I could picture my goal, I could focus better on the rune.”

“The rune by itself doesn’t have a definite effect. I didn’t want to bias the development of your human magic, so I only taught you a fundamental rune, rather than a formulated spell,” Mowrytal explained, gesturing in the air and pulling up an image of the rune in front of him.

“Okay, so… what does that mean?”

Mowry smiled, and with a few more gestures, several very similar runes appeared, then vanished almost instantly before Mason had time to even begin to comprehend what he was seeing. “Torysen uses the force rune to activate her spells, and even to enhance her bounding attack. But the rune by itself isn’t enough. She pulls upon spell formulations, which are distinct variations on the rune that produce extremely specific effects.

“If I taught you these formulations, you could use the same abilities as everyone else, but where would your incentive be to experiment and shape the magic to better suit your own abilities?” He pulled up the fundamental rune again and held it close to Mason’s face.

“So the rune does nothing, then?” Mason looked confused, and it started to make sense why he couldn’t really do anything at all with the rune.

“No, it will produce force energy, which is yours to shape how you will. With mine and the Trial’s help, you’ll devise new spell formulations, and if we have any luck, they may have some unique or interesting power to them. At the very least, they’ll suit you.”

Geralt finally left his perch, and walked over to take the rune from Mowrytal. The dark man did nothing to resist, and he and Mason waited to see what Geralt would do next.

“Where did you learn about the trials?” He finally asked, looking directly in Mowry’s eye.

“In the trials themselves, during the brief period before I died.”

Geralt made the rune disappear, took a step away, then pivoted and looked at Mason. “Demon, your luck is greater than either your wits or your strength. I don’t think he truly understood it, but your pet has given you a great advantage.”

Both Mason and Mowry looked surprised, as much that Mowry was being praised as that Geralt seemed to be feeling helpful.

Geralt continued, “The Trials exist to destroy the weak and raise only the strongest of each race to a higher level. They feed on change. I can think of almost nothing they would reward higher than an entirely new style of spellcraft. Do try not to kill yourself with a spell.” He paused for a moment before walking away, adding, “I haven’t decided if it’s in my better interest to keep you alive or not, yet.”

Mowry chimed in then before Mason had a moment to sort this out or ask further questions, “You should return now. It is not good for you to stay in this place for very long.”

“Well?” Leornal prodded immediately as Mason roused himself.

“I found out that rune I’m learning is just… fundamental force?” Mason said uncertainly. “Apparently I should be able to make spells with it later that the Darkest Night can’t.”

Leornal groaned, “I thought you’d have learned some great powerful secret from that dangerous man. Of course you can use a rune to create a spell, it’s just not that damned easy,” Leornal stood up, grabbing his belongings. “I’ve been trying to turn my powershot into a force spell for months.”

“Maybe I can help?”

“Sure, perform one more miracle,” he replied with more frustration in his voice than he had wanted to allow. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were sent from the Trials to fuck with my people specifically.”

Mason grinned mischievously, tired of everyone venting their frustrations on him because he had the luck to not get murdered instantly, “No, I’m just here to drive you insane personally.”