Preliminary Report:

Superimposition of ROOT:ZLTDB0K9HUV successful.

Pentad of designation:ZLTDB0K9HUV is within human specification.

Doublet of designation:ZLTDB0K9HUV is above human specification. Magic bias.

stat.eff of designation:ZLTDB0K9HUV is anoma╚ist≬c.

Err ʊ r.

Interference detected. Readings indicate the presence of dream magic.

stat.eff of designation:ZLTDB0K9HUV deemed unsafe for sprite interaction.

Admin query sent.

RULING:

REMOVE NORMAL FUNCTION FROM DESIGNATED AREA.

EXCLUDE ANOMALOUS SECTOR.

Acknowledged: stat.eff of designation:ZLTDB0K9HUV now excluded from normal function.

No further actions to be taken regarding stat.eff (EXCLUDED) of designation:ZLTDB0K9HUV.

Initializing basic protocol with exclusionary status.

The Shokarovs’ schedule drastically changed following the Apocalypse. It became difficult to sleep through the night, since that was when the monsters became most active. They tried many times, of course, but monstrous howls and curious visitors in their yard ensured that they couldn’t get more than a few hours’ worth of rest.

Fortunately, their house had yet to be attacked by anything worse than a couple roaming zombies. That could be attributed to due diligence on their part. Hemash would instruct Albek, showing him how to reinforce the house, while spending hours in the garage himself, constructing barricades that were placed over the doors and windows.

Most importantly, they made sure not to produce any light that could be seen through a crack in a window, or to make any noise during the long hours of the night.

This reordering of their life made their schedule one where the family would sleep around two to six hours in the afternoon, wake up before sunset, and spend most of the night either sleeping in shifts or engaged in small activities like whittling stakes or teaching Liyne—the Apocalypse was no reason to stop an education, after all.

This revised schedule is why, when Albek awoke earlier in the afternoon than he wanted because of a knock at the front door, he groaned loudly in annoyance. He hadn’t slept well, having spent a lot of time sitting up thinking over the ominous message from his status effect screen. He felt as though he’d finally drifted off when the visitors came.

There were very few people that would be knocking at their door at this time of day.

‘It’s probably those assholes again.’

Albek found himself almost hoping it was a monster instead. He grabbed the trusty bat leaning by his dresser and made his way out.

Approaching the front door, he peered through the small window at the top to see a bald, shiny dome that glistened with sweat despite the relatively cool weather. Thirty feet back from the porch stood two men, one armed with a machete, alertly scanning their surroundings, and the other with a crowbar and a rifle strapped to his back. It was probably a toy—ownership of firearms was illegal in the Federation. A cheap intimidation tactic.

“Who is it?” Albek spoke, already knowing the answer.

The shiny head replied in a high-pitched, tremulous voice. “Hi, it’s Albek, right? It’s me, Dale. How ya doing?”

“I’m alright.”

“Good, good,” Dale said in a distracted tone, “Hey, you saw those weird screens earlier, right?”

“Yeah,” Albek said. He knew why they had come, now.

“Well, we’re holding a meeting at the church tomorrow morning,” said Dale. “Finlay has us going around letting everyone know. Can you make it?”

A hand patted Albek’s leg just then, causing him to jump in surprise. Turning, he saw Hemash, who looked a lot like a disgruntled gorilla with bedhead.

‘I’m not the only one who didn’t get enough sleep. Yikes.’

His father most likely had been too preoccupied with Embryo to rest long.

Moving aside, he let him to the door. Hemash spoke gruffly. “Dale. Is the troop going well?”

Albek relocated to the adjoining room so that he could peer out the window blinds at Dale and the two other men.

Dale shrugged, letting out a long sigh. “We’re functioning. Food is honestly the biggest concern. Finlay’s trying to put together a group that can make it at least to—”

The man with the gun interrupted him, disgustedly, “Dale, that’s enough. You gave them the message, let’s get outta here before the rats try something.”

“Oh, they won’t do anything,” Dale replied. “I’m coming, I’m coming. Remember you guys, the meeting starts at about nine. Sun rises at six-thirty, so it should give you plenty of time to get there. I think this one’s gonna be important, so at least send your son if you can’t make it, Hemash.”

“Thank you, Dale. I will do that. Take care,” Hemash said.

As the trio turned and left, Hemash waited by the door. Once they had disappeared down the driveway and around the bend, Albek gave the all-clear, and they started towards the kitchen.

“Get some dinner,” Hemash said. “The sun sets soon. We will check the perimeter after you eat.”

When Albek got to the kitchen and saw the sheets of paper scattered all over the table, he was reminded yet again of the absurdity from earlier.

After the arrival of Embryo and the extremely menacing message, he had retreated to his room, citing a headache. Before sleeping, he tried experimenting with his status screen some more (avoiding the status effect section, of course), but he wasn’t able to find any new information other than the definitions of various words he already knew. The only way forward seemed to be through either the path of magic or ki, but he was worried about what would happen once he took that leap: swimming the stream of magic or diving into the pit of ki. He wanted more information first, and their visitors just now gave him an idea of where he might get some.

Albek popped the tab off some canned pears and set into them with a fork.

“Are you going tomorrow?” he asked around a mouthful.

“Yes.”

Albek frowned, but didn’t say anything further on the subject.

Hemash paused while pouring a glass of water, “Do you feel better?”

“Yeah. Much better,” he lied. “I guess I was feeling a little off last night.”

“You never finished telling me what happened at the Robinsons. I almost forgot with this Embryo excitement. Were you saying you were attacked by a… cat thing?”

“Yeah. But something even weirder happened.”

Albek finally described the events of yesterday’s morning in as much detail as he could remember, glad to be getting it off his chest. Hemash listened silently as Albek walked him through the events at the Robinsons, starting with his breaking and entering. He sat through the descriptions, only showing a reaction when Albek got to the part where he was disemboweled.

Albek noticed the look of disbelief, so he pulled up his shirt, revealing a long, thin scar across his belly. A second scar encircled his shoulder. After turning around, there were more marks on his back. He’d noticed the scars when he was changing clothes earlier, an unwelcome reminder of how close to death he had come. They were proof that the Voice hadn’t reverted time or undone the damage, but had instead somehow managed to heal Albek.

His father furrowed his brows, but allowed Albek to finish the story. Then, he explained the weird message he received earlier that day.

Hemash remained silent for a long time afterwards.

Albek spoke, “My status effect… I think the Voice gave it to me.”

Hemash nodded, “I think so too. Tell me what you said to it again.”

Albek did. He couldn’t forget the words—words he’d thought, not even spoken—if he wanted to, just as he couldn’t forget the words the Voice said in return.

Hemash heavily sighed and started to roll away.

“Clean up. I will get Liyne. We will have a family discussion.”

“And the perimeter?”

“I went out earlier. We will be fine for one night.”

The family of three gathered around the kitchen table for the second time that day, watching Liyne eat spoonfuls of canned beans Albek had heated over a kerosene stove. They didn’t speak while she ate, content with silence. Liyne finished, putting down her spoon, and Albek got up to take away her bowl. It was then that Hemash finally spoke.

“There is something I must say to you both. I think you should follow the path of magic.”

Albek stopped dead in his tracks, bowl in his hands.

“Huh? Shouldn’t we make sure that it’s the best option before committing? I thought at the meeting tomorrow I could learn some more about it before we need to come to a decision.”

Hemash’s next statement derailed Albek’s train of thought.

“I am already on the path of ki.”

Albek shakily put the bowl down into the sink.

Hemash continued, “I did it earlier, when you went off to bed. I have been experimenting for the past few hours. It is… strange. I am made to be aware of a whole new energy inside me that I never noticed before. And this program helps you every step of the way.”

Albek’s lips moved a few times, before finding the words to reply. “Dad, wh—this isn’t you. You taught me that there aren’t any free lunches in this world. Isn’t this what you meant? Embryo feels way too good to be true. Just free power? At no cost? Who’s to say it isn’t trying to… I don’t know, mind control us or something? These screens are literally in our heads!”

He nodded. “You are not wrong to be distrustful, Albek.”

“So—so why are you accepting this so quickly?”

Hemash frowned and stopped speaking in Ingri, slipping into Kalkian.

“Why did you accept the offer from the Voice, chenim olvilo?”

The question gave Albek pause.

Hemash continued, “You did it to survive. Yes, you had less options then. You were on the verge of death. But you came to that decision for the reason that drives us—that drives all of us—survival!”

Placing his fist on the table, he continued, “You passed through the gauntlet of death, surviving and gaining a powerful enemy. What about when the owner of that Voice comes for you? Will you beg it to spare you? If that is your choice, I’ve failed you.”

Albek didn’t like speaking Kalkian with Hemash. His father only used it for serious conversations or to hide something from Liyne. Usually both. Despite these reservations, he bridled at his fathers’ words and responded in kind.

“I’m not giving up, I just think that waiting for information would be smarter. I want to make sure I do the right thing. The smart thing, like I didn’t do at the Robinson’s. I should have left the instant I saw that things were off.”

“Correct. You made an oversight, and were punished for it. Normally, I would be agreeing with you here, Olvilo. Gathering intelligence is important,” he said, “Especially when dealing with something as world-changing as Embryo may be. But how much time do you think we have?”

“What do you mean?” he responded. “We have plenty of food, longer than a month’s worth if I go out and forage more. Our house hasn’t been attacked by monsters yet—even our chickens are fine. It may be the end of the world, but it’s not like things are going to get way worse by waiting a single day. As long as we’re careful, what do we have to worry about?”

“It isn’t the monsters or our food supply I’m worried about, Olvilo. You’re overthinking again. You always try to plan for the distant future, missing what is here in the present.”

Hemash was implying something, but Albek couldn’t make the connection. It was made all the more difficult in Kalkian.

“Well, you know, it’s what I’m worried about. I’m trying to make sure we all survive, and it feels like you’re just—just gambling! It’s the opposite of what you taught me!”

He stopped his tirade with his face flushed, breathing heavily. Rarely did he get so emotional, and almost never with his strict father.

He just didn’t like it. Any of it. The Apocalypse, Embryo, or the threat of the Voice, hanging over him like a guillotine. So much frustration was accumulating inside him that it was trying to find any outlet that it could.

His father seemed to understand. Sighing, Hemash looked past Albek, over at Liyne. She barely understood five words of this language, and was looking at the two uncomprehendingly. Hemash spoke slowly, to imprint on Albek the importance of his words.

“It’s the people, Albek. Finlay’s group. You know our history. I have enemies in this community, and that means we have enemies. You saw the men earlier? They were thin. Far thinner than they were two weeks ago. Did you know that the only reason they haven’t attacked us yet is likely because I carry a weapon? They ought to think that I have more than one gun, and that you carry one as well. I’ve hinted as much in my meetings with them in the past.”

The realization dawned on Albek.

“But now…” he started.

Hemash continued, “Though this threat held them at bay until now, what do you think they will do to us once they have access to a strength that lets them fight monsters on equal terms?”

- - -

Albek and Liyne were sitting on the carpet in the family room while Hemash watched on. Albek’s eyes were closed as he concentrated on the connection—the great river of magic that sprouted from the top of his head. He found it in an instant, without needing to go through Embryo again. It seemed to be something he only had to do once, and afterwards it only took a moment’s concentration to sense it. For ki it was different—he couldn’t sense the tiny hole in his stomach any more without going through his status screen—but magic remained as strong.

It was amazing that he didn’t sense it constantly—this massive river of energy that seemed to connect him to the distant stars. He hesitated for just a moment, and then threw himself into the river, sending his consciousness somewhere far, far away.

He knew that he dreamed of something. He knew he dreamed of something very, very important, but by the time he awoke to find the rough carpet making an imprint on his cheek, he couldn’t remember what it was. There was nostalgia in the dream, like he was back in Kalk, getting told a bedtime story by his grandmother. But it was also vast: a thing colossal in scope, and he was just a human speck lost in the expanse of space.

It was a vague, unsettling sense of horror: a fear of insignificance, of arriving at the end of his life after having accomplished nothing, of never making a mark through the sheer difference in scale between his ambitions and the totality of existence.

And then there was yearning. He was a partition. He was unfinished. He had to find the other and… and complete himself. Only then could he justify his... his what? His life?

Albek scratched his head.

In short, he awoke confused. The emotions were so difficult to balance within himself that he was almost persuaded to stop trying. They were intense immediately upon his awakening, but fled like sand slipping through his fingers the longer he thought about them.

‘Just like any other dream, I guess.’

A blanket slid off him as he sat up. He found himself alone in the room, the others off exploring their own new worlds. He was left to soak in this diminishing sense of emptiness, trying to patch up whatever inside him was hollow and hungering, familiar yet horrifying. The river of magic had mysteriously disappeared, making it an experience he wouldn’t get to live through again. This forgotten dream, whatever it meant, was clearly something inextricably linked to him.

- - -

Embryo, rather than gifting Albek the power to become a mage (Embryo’s name for a magic user), acted as more of a teacher. It didn’t really give him any powers—unless the river of magic counted—it showed him how to develop his skills to manipulate an energy that apparently existed all around him. The first screens he saw after awakening, for example, were just a list of instructions.

Step 1: Locate either a cold glass of water or an open flame, such as a candle. Fire works best.

It was impossible to find a cold glass of water since the Shokarovs had no way of getting ice, so Albek raided the kitchen drawers, pulling out two stubby tea light candles, one for him and one for his sister—who had inexplicably waited for him to wake up before starting the exercise. They had mountains of candles and matches after Albek had looted nearly every house on their street, so he didn’t think of it as wasteful. Because they didn’t want any light showing through their windows, they held their training in the living room, which had multiple layers of curtains on every window. He and his sister sat across from each other, two candles between them.

Dune was sitting on the floor by them, nose resting on her paws. Hemash was in his room training his ki, allowing them to devote their full attention to the task.

Step 2: Sit in front of the object and close your eyes. Reach out with your other senses and try to picture the object and its effect on its surroundings. Envision the heat, the warmth, and the life this flame embodies. Visualize the base of the fire, darker than the rest, feeding off the wax.

His grandmother taught him how to meditate as a child. Albek assumed this was a similar exercise, so he sat cross-legged on the ground and began to count breaths. In and out. Slowly, not rushed. He let his body control his breathing as his mind calmed, extraneous thoughts discarded and forgotten.

He pictured the flame. How the air shimmered above it. It was a simple thing, gradations of color from yellow to orange, hints of red and blue at the base. Inhale, exhale. He tried to conceptualize this image on a deeper level.

Step 3: Once this image is as clear as possible in your mind, go a level deeper, to the source of the phenomenon. Ignore the shape of the flame. See only the idea of it. You will know when this has been accomplished.

‘Fire is a chemical reaction… it burns up oxygen and releases carbon, right?’

He envisioned it as a greedy little mouth, a gremlin that ate up everything within reach. The flame furled up then split down the middle, a row of smiling teeth made of fire appearing before him.

Step 4: Once the flame is no longer a picture in your head, but a living entity, you have grasped the roots of mana. Manipulate the image however you see fit in order to extinguish the fire.

After the picture was secure in his mind, Albek imagined the mouth closing. The little construct struggled, cheeks bulging as it tried to open its maw but failed. It grew smaller and smaller until it was snuffed out in a puff of smoke.

When he opened his eyes, anxious to see the result, the flame was still burning as brightly as ever.

‘Guess I should have expected that.’

Across the table, his sister had her face scrunched up in concentration. He smiled as he watched her, but his smile turned into one of astonishment when her candle’s flame began to flicker, then dim. It reduced to an ember as he watched and winked out, a trail of smoke curling from the wick to announce its end. Liyne let out a breath and opened her eyes. Smiling brightly, she looked up at Albek.

“We-well done, Liyne,” he stammered.

She gave a theatrical bow.

After a second’s thought, he readied himself for another attempt.

- - -

An hour later, he was about ready to cry. Liyne had already repeated the feat several times and was now reading up on some new information via Embryo’s screens while waiting for him (other people’s screens were invisible to anyone but the owner, but he had asked what she was doing earlier). Albek hadn’t even made his flame dim yet. Looking down at his studious sister, he pulled out his radio, clearing his throat.

“Do you know what I’m doing wrong?” he asked, speaking into the receiver.

She blinked, looking over at him. He avoided her gaze.

He continued, “I mean, do you have any… tips? Over.”

Liyne touched a finger to her chin, as if thinking. After a minute, she shrugged and went back to reading, ignoring him. Albek frowned.

“Chhk. Sergeant Liyne, are you ignoring your commanding officer? Over.”

She picked up her radio with an air of nonchalance. “Nuh-uh, Captain, over.”

Albek raised an eyebrow. She was pretending very hard to be studying, but the constant twitching of her eyebrows gave her away. He may as well resign himself.

With a sigh, he asked, “What do you want, then? Over.”

She responded before Albek could begin to regret his offer.

“I get to be the captain, over.”

‘This cheeky little…’

The “radio communication” play the siblings acted out was almost the only way to hold a real conversation with Liyne. She had trouble speaking out loud even to her family, let alone other people.

Despite her circumstances, nothing stopped Liyne from being a precocious little rascal. If Albek let her take on the role of the captain, he knew it would go to her head.

He proposed a middle ground.

“You can be captain for one day. How about that? Over.”

Liyne considered the offer. Then, she reached out her hand to shake on it, dimples forming as she smiled.

- - -

Liyne’s smug look as she coached him through the exercise afterwards would haunt his nightmares. She lorded it over him with her advanced knowledge after having spent less than an hour reading. She was a terrible teacher, but Albek had a lot of practice interpreting her.

“No… you’re doing it wrong, Cap—Sergeant! You have to do it like this. And close your eyes, you can’t look at it or you won’t see it.”

“Like this?”

“Yes. It’s a warm, um, small feeling. The fire is alive. You can’t make it listen. You have to wait.”

The purpose of this rudimentary exercise was to get the point where he could at least barely sense some of what Liyne called the “mana-flows” of the universe, then use that connection to stifle the flame.

Albek realized his three mistakes: first, he never saw the mana of the fire in the first place. He just had an overactive imagination. Right now, Liyne was trying to get him to the point where he could see the mana.

Second, he focused too much on using his own energy to deal with the candle. Performing magic wasn’t about just forcing something to happen—doing so was possible (and apparently dangerous), but people didn’t have very much power within them to begin with, at least compared to the mana present in the world around them. They had to find an angle to manipulate that mana, otherwise using their energy up to force an effect may end up extinguishing them instead.

Albek shivered after learning this. Did his attempt earlier really come close to killing him? Probably not, since he hadn’t succeeded in the first step. But how many people could have known that?

The third mistake he made—well, he wasn’t too sure on this one, but deciphering Liyne’s lecture brought him to this conclusion—was that he was simply overthinking it. He was trying to control the laws of physics themselves, hoping that by stopping the fire from “eating,” the candle would have no fuel and die off. That hope made the process flawed to begin with. Evidently mana—though it can bend reality to the mage’s will—still has certain rules to it. It probably wouldn’t have done much when he tried to make the mouth stop “breathing” because that command would have gone against the fire’s nature. It would be like telling water to stop being wet. Maybe it was possible, but then he’d be right back to the second problem again: forcing his will onto mana. If he had succeeded, it could have eaten up all his energy, possibly killing himself.

Liyne, not learned in the physical laws to begin with, was able to establish a bond with the mana right off the bat and figure out how to extinguish the fire without breaking anything.

Albek was starting to get a little nervous around magic.

With all these things in mind, he sat down, resolving to meditate until the real image of the fire came to him instead of some picture he made up.

He closed his eyes and directed his focus in the direction of the candle. For a while, nothing happened. The flame burned, Albek breathed, and outside, monsters prowled. As his trance deepened, his stray thoughts flew into the fire like moths, and with each insect cremated, the world seemed to grow that much more tranquil. He began to feel something tugging on the edges of his consciousness then: a force no greater than a gnat. There was a tickling on his skin, and he resisted the urge to scratch. It was a slight warmth, as if from a fire, though he knew he should have been too far away from the candle to feel a thing. He homed in on that feeling, and it grew… not more intense, but detailed, in a way.

Gradually, the form of a tiny serpent of flame coiling around the candle wick shimmered into view: an inch-long little salamander. It blinked its beadlike eyes, flicked a microscopic tongue out as if sensing the intruder’s presence, and tightened around the wick. Yet even with all this detail, Albek knew he wasn’t seeing the creature, but sensing it in some other way. He was almost touching it, forming the picture as he traced its shape.

This thing was the flame. He hadn’t invented the image like he did with the mouth. It was bright like a little sun: more vivid and lifelike in his mind than even a real animal.

At the sight of this puny dragon defending its lair, he realized what Embryo meant by saying he would know when this step was completed. He gave it a mental apology before setting out to complete his task.

He felt a strange sense of control in this imagined world, like the power of his mind was greater here. With the image of this creature solidified in his head, he realized that this vaguely defined control might be how he extinguished it.

He reached out towards the source of this warmth, but quickly found that things weren’t as simple as snuffing it out with his mind. There was a barrier in place between him and the salamander. This barrier wasn’t tangible; it was more of a mental block than anything else—a force field that stopped him from directly altering this creature. He could still encompass the salamander with his mind, allowing him to visualize every part of it down to the tiniest imaginary scale, but he couldn’t directly affect the creature without breaking through this boundary first. He tested it with a small push, and felt an invisible bending in its fabric. This told him that he could pierce through with a bit more effort, but doing so would expend some resource. Not physical strength, but something more integral. He didn’t have a name for it.

He realized that breaking this barrier was what Liyne had referred to earlier when she’d warned him about using his own energy to extinguish the flame. He examined the barrier once more, concluding after a few more mental pushes (the salamander flinched each time) that breaking it might tire him, but it wouldn’t come close to killing him.

‘Liyne was probably blowing things out of proportion to try and scare me away from trying it.’

Still, he looked for ways he might get around the barrier, a method for him to get the tiny to extinguish.

As various ideas came to the surface of his mind, the image of the salamander began to turn blurry. Static appeared in places, blank spots in his mental picture, until he almost lost it entirely. He forced himself to calm down and study the creature without thinking. Once the noise in his mind quieted, the picture stabilized.

After a minute, he began to feel it—a vague sort-of emotion from the thing—if a non-sentient representation of fire could feel. In fact, there were several emotions, but the strongest among them was hunger. The creature was hungrier than seemed possible for such a tiny form. It wanted to eat—needed it desperately.

As he focused on that feeling of hunger, Albek began to lose sense of himself. The image of the salamander grew larger in his mind. Albek imagined himself taking the candle outside and throwing it onto a pile of kindling; stoking the flame until it was a fire. More wood: a bonfire. Now he was hauling logs onto the fire as quickly as he could, and its flames reached ten feet into the air. As it grew, its hunger grew. Albek’s hunger grew.

His vision blurred—he was the inferno, spreading to the tall grass and shrubs, onto the dry bed of needles and up the first pine. He leapt from tree to tree until he engulfed the forest, turning leaves to ash, cracking bark with his teeth, until—

He shuddered, ripping his mind away. The salamander was still there on the wick and he was himself again, but instead of a fearful worm, the thing had become motionless, gazing up at him as if entranced. If it could feel complex emotions, Albek would almost think it looked hopeful. He shivered again, realizing that he had connected, on some level, to a rule that governed the universe: some shared will of fire. He had built a connection between him, the aspiring mage, and the tiny mana of this flame.

This was more dangerous than he’d thought. He hadn’t been prepared for something like that. But if this connection could affect him, it could go the other way, too.

He targeted that bond, stoking the hunger of the serpent beyond what it could sustain. Immediately, he felt a slight draining sensation, and the bond between them fluctuated.

The salamander started, roiling back in shock. Then it jerked its head around, a panicked motion. It found the wax underneath it and set upon it, gorging itself, growing twice as large in an instant—but it was unsustainable. It soon lost heat, becoming too cool to continue feasting. It shrunk several sizes, then turned inward and began to cannibalize itself, biting at its tail and working its way up its own body.

Shortly, all that remained was just a head: a tiny, shivering speck that lay atop a blackened wick. The salamander blinked its diminutive eyes one last time and vanished into atomic embers.

The feeling of warmth that enabled him to see this strange, magical world vanished, and he opened his eyes to find that the flame had gone out. Though there was a certain feeling of accomplishment, he’d also become very tired. He’d woken a few hours ago, but his head already listed to the side, heavier than it should have been. This sudden lethargy was accompanied by sadness. That snake had been alive, in some strange way; in some definition of life.

He hoped he didn’t have to murder a critter each time he performed magic.

‘But what is mana? A particle, or something else? Why does it react to my will?’

He may as well ask why humanoid cat-monsters eat people. An answer wasn’t forthcoming from Embryo. At least, not a straightforward one.

After completing his first test, a database opened up that Albek could access. It had some information on the limitations and practical applications of magic in the early stages, but very little on mana theory. Only this came up when he tried to research it:

Mana

Mana exists everywhere in the world around you, lending Shape to Meaning. Throughout the universe, it exists in ten raw forms, but it takes one of two refined forms in life: that of thauma and ki. Thauma is the will, the power to command all creation. Ki is the body, the power to make flesh inviolable. Both conjoin in the soul, and in the end, recognize the same fate.

Mana originates from the Manastream: the infinite wellspring. A plane saturated with mana has formed a bridge to your world and is in the process of reshaping it. As Oitania is still undergoing the saturation process, Embryo ensures that the mana will not cause further major shifts in the fabric of your reality as it did on upon its introduction.

‘Um, sure.’

Again, he was unable to select the words that he was interested in learning more about. Shape, Meaning, Manastream… all gave him the same spiel about his “priority level” not being high enough.

The first confusing description aside, the second blurb interested him.

‘The date of the Apocalypse, huh? Was all this really mana’s fault?’

But there were no other clues as to what had caused the breakdown of society and the introduction of monsters. It had happened so fast that most people only had time to look out for themselves.

Albek had been watching TV when it happened. He remembered seeing a flash of light outside and then the screen popped and blinked off. They thought it had been a lightning strike causing a power surge. It wasn’t until he tried to use his cell phone, and then his fathers’, that they began to think something was seriously amiss. Until the first monsters came a few days later, they had narrowed the cause down to either a solar flare or an act of international sabotage.

Useless as such suspicions might be, it seemed to Albek that Embryo was up to a lot behind the scenes. Not that he could do anything about it even if it was going around murdering orphans.

- - -

“Tcchk. Sergeant Albek to Captain Liyne. Enemy spotted. Permission to engage? Over.”

“Chk. Permission denied, sergeant. You’re too far away. I’ll do it, over.”

It was early the next morning, and the Shokarov siblings hadn’t slept a wink. They were currently in their backyard, talking into their walkie talkies. It might have been too embarrassing for Liyne if anyone else had been watching, but Hemash was well acquainted with their game.

The backyard of the Shokarovs’ home was delineated by a broken-down ancient wooden fence framed by tall conifers, encompassing a quarter acre of overgrown grass and weeds. Their house stood in the northwest of the property, and a chicken coop took up the southwest corner of the yard. Outside the coop a few hens strutted about, foraging for insects.

Albek crouched behind a short stone wall near the chicken coop, taking the sniper position, as his little sister moved stealthily through the grass towards the hens.

Hemash sat on the back porch, gun openly resting on his knee as he scanned the surroundings, alert for any motion in the woods bordering the yard. A thick layer of dead pine needles on the ground ensured the undergrowth surrounding the house wasn’t too thick, so he could see a good distance into the forest.

Liyne got within ten feet of the coop and sprang up, pointing her finger at one of the chickens. For a second nothing happened, then a bright flash of light noiselessly materialized in front of her target. The hen cooed, tilted its head inquisitively, and then resumed picking at the ground, wholly unperturbed. Liyne went for a second shot and managed to land a flash of light on its tail feathers, but the torpid bird didn’t even notice.

Liyne tried a third time, but lost concentration and couldn’t get the spell to go off again. She lifted up her radio, evident regret in her words. “Tch. Mission failed. It’s your turn, sergeant. Over.”

Albek stood on top of the wall and pointed a finger at the same chicken. He was further from the coop, but he was still confident he could hit his target. He focused intently, reaching all around him with his mind for the tiny, energetic wisps of energy that he could now just barely sense, and when he felt that he had a slight grasp of one, muttered:

“Natarlak.”

After a short delay the same spell hit the chicken. His version wasn’t quite as bright as Liyne’s, but when it hit the chicken on the beak the bird squawked and ran inside the coop.

A notification from Embryo popped up in the corner of his vision, surprising him. Liyne sullenly spoke into her radio, and he waved away the screen.

“Sarge, why did it run inside for you and not for me?”

“I aimed for the chicken’s eyes. The spell doesn’t really do much on its own, so you have to try and surprise them. But hey—yours was amazing, Captain! It was way brighter than mine!”

Albek tried to cheer her up as they walked back to the house together. She couldn’t keep frowning for long. It was still magic.

When they returned, Hemash asked, “Is that all you can manage? A little flash of light?”

“Well, yeah,” Albek said. “For now, at least. It’s supposed to take a lot of time to learn more difficult things. Right now, we can only do the lowest level spells, and among those, only the simplest. This one is really the bottom of the barrel.”

On reflection, if this was the limit of their ability after twelve hours of practice, they could easily have waited another day before deciding whether or not to learn magic. Albek didn’t bring it up to his father, though, as he knew the man already came to the same realization. Anyway, he was rather glad about this series of events. Learning magic with Liyne was the first time in a long while that he’d felt genuinely excited for something. It was like he was a kid again, running around with his friends in the back yard.

He went to pinch Liyne’s cheek, but she dodged out of the way. He just laughed.

Exhaling through his nose, Hemash accepted the explanation he’d given.

“We leave for the church in one hour, so get your things in order.”

Albek went inside, but let his mind wander while he packed, thinking back to the strange forgotten dream that he had the night before. The remembrance of it through his happy thoughts.

That dream was like a thought that had slipped away, teasing at the edges of his consciousness, giving him the feeling that one day he might wake up to realize he’d left some cosmic oven on, burning down his cosmic house in the process.

Only one other thing he knew of gave him such a perplexing feeling.

As his memory involuntarily surfaced, he turned his attention to his dresser. Resting near various other knickknacks, there was a piece of jewelry: a green gemstone armlet.

The armlet looked to be made of thousands of tiny, interlocking scales with several delicate gold chains drooped around it. Six flat, faceted stones finished the ornament.

He walked over to it and picked it up. Holding it to a crack in the boards over his window, he watched as sunlight reflected off the polished stones, illuminating the colors of the deep sea. He’d never figured out whether the stones were emerald or some other type of rock. They possessed a similar hue to the precious gem, but these were more opaque. The armlet was the most beautiful thing he owned: a piece of jewelry that looked like it belonged on a member of some sultan’s harem.

‘Not really something a guy would wear.’

Given to him only days before her disappearance, it was the last gift from his mother he remembered receiving. And thinking back, he thought it might have been the only one. Their family never gave many gifts.

- - -

Albek was curled into a ball on his bed, hiding from the sounds of movement outside his room. Stomping feet sounded from the hall as luggage was being moved; workers yelled as they loaded boxes onto trucks. The sounds of unwelcome change. His door creaked open and light footfalls approached; the mattress sagged as his guest sat. The boy spoke, his voice muffled by a pillow.

“I don’t want to go,” he said.

“We aren’t always able to do what we want, Albek.”

“I like it here. We’ve always lived here. Since the Founder. Grandma said that.”

“Things change.”

Her hand stroked his hair as he sniffed. This continued until she spoke once more.

“Your father is frightened, child. This place isn’t as safe as it used to be. Now that your sister is here, he wants to move her away from all the people who might hurt her.”

“You’re lying! It’s the debt collectors—I heard Dad talking about it with Uncle Sha!”

Now it was the woman’s turn to remain silent. She kept her hand on his head.

His voice returned, pleading now, “Grandma said the Djinn would protect us from the bad stuff. Can’t we just stay?”

The woman sighed.

“Staying for so long is what got your family into this mess. Perhaps we could stay, take out more loans, try again to reinvigorate this crumbling town. You said the Djinn would protect us, but do you remember what the Djinn does afterwards?”

“He… extracts an equal price.”

“That’s right. He always does. The wealth and status of the Shokarov family was achieved with the knowledge that their gains would one day become nothing. That was the agreement.”

“It’s not fair.”

“It never is.”

The hand stopped.

“Albek, do you remember what I told you last night?”

“I—I don’t. I can’t. Why is that?”

He sat up, looking at her. She closed her eyes.

“You will when you’re older. You must.”

An object wrapped in paper and cloth was drawn from her purse and handed over. He took it in his small hands.

“This will keep you safe until then, no matter where you go or what you do. Always keep this with you. Until you remember.”

“You’ll be there, right, Mommy?”

“Promise me you’ll keep it with you.”

“Okay. But you’ll be there, right?”

“Albek, my child. My sweet, broken child. Will you be brave for Mommy?”

- - -

‘Be brave, huh?’

Albek flicked his arm and glumly watched as it jiggled. He’d never be able to wear her armlet—it wouldn’t even fit over his hand. One day, once Liyne was bigger, maybe he’d give it to her. For now, it would remain his memento.

‘Though it’s strange…’

Why had the dream from Embryo reminded him of this memory—given him this same sense of emptiness and loss? He hadn’t thought about that conversation in years. But there was a time, soon after she left, that Albek played it through in his head every day. Because it bothered him. His mother said something to him that he couldn’t remember, as if she meant for him not to remember. Why? To protect him?

He could feel himself getting worked up over it as he continued to twist the armlet around. It was an unbelievingly frustrating feeling, suffering a sense of loss without knowing what it was he’d lost, both in the memory of his mother and in the forgotten dream.

And then there was the cause of it: that strange river that flowed from the top of his head. He’d passed out for two hours, according to Hemash. Albek could no longer locate the river, because after it completed its job, it didn’t appear again. When he looked at his status, his talent section had vanished as well, replaced with something called a “class,” which declared that he was now a Neophyte. Liyne was the same.

His sister said the river had vanished for her, too. Was that what he’d lost? That didn’t seem right.

The dream bothered him, and he knew that it would continue to do so for a long time, but as he couldn’t force it to happen a second time, he decided to try and move on: focusing on what he could do in the here and now. He gently placed the armlet back on its stand. Taking a look at the screens in front of him, he considered Embryo’s function.

Tier 0 Low-Rank Spell: Shimmer (Natarlak)

The named spell that is both the weakest and simplest to learn of all spells. Shimmer creates a flash of harmless light at the target location.

Brightness is contingent on the amount of mana supplied.

Range and accuracy is contingent on the caster’s skill.

This magic was hardly even a true spell, more akin to a parlor trick than anything else. It could be cast by any mage after a little training. Shimmer was the name given to it by Embryo, but Embryo itself had said to give it a name that invokes some meaning to him, so he named it Natarlak, which meant “bright” in Kalkian.

As he was finishing lacing his boots, he looked over the notification he had received earlier when he was firing spells at the chickens with Liyne.

Milestone Reached! Skill obtained: Tier 0 Low-Rank Spell: Shimmer [Lv0]

‘Huh. My first skill. So spells can be skills too?’

There were two zeroes in the skill description, which confused him at first, but then he remembered that there were plenty of explanations that he hadn’t had time to read yet. Pulling up his status screen, he clicked on an icon in the corner that looked like a book, then scrolled down until he found the section he was looking for.

Spell Levels

In Embryo, spells are sorted into several divisions. These divisions help to define things such as the relative difficulty of the spell and the user’s own proficiency with it. Every spell is assigned a tier. Then, the rank of the spell is shown (applicable only to certain spells), which is then followed by the spell’s name. Finally, the spell’s level is shown in brackets.

The spell’s tier and rank denote the difficulty of the spell itself, with lower tiers for simpler spells. Tiers begin at zero and go up to ten.

Tier 0 and Tier 10 spells are further categorized into Low-Rank or High-Rank, which is merely another subdivision of difficulty.

Finally, the level is shown at the end of the description. This represents the user’s mastery over the skill and is the best indicator of its power.

It seemed that practicing with the spell through the night and then using it a few times in the yard with Liyne was enough to get his foot in the door and gain the official Shimmer skill. Even without the skill he was able to cast it, of course, but this meant that Embryo believed he’d reached a milestone with the spell.

‘But why have a level zero? At least start at one, jeez. Hardly feels like much of an achievement.’

Looking up, Albek was brought out of his deliberations by the sight of Hemash waiting for him by the door. Dune was in his lap, and Liyne stood beside him, a purple kid’s explorer pack on her back, radio holstered and clutching her favorite walking stick: a branch she found in the backyard half an hour ago.

“Ready?” His father asked.

Albek strapped his bat to his belt.

“Ready.”

BASIC INFORMATION

Name Albek Shokarov Titles N/A Race Human (Low)

Age 16 STATISTICS Strength 11 Vitality 11 Stamina 9 Agility 10 Dexterity 13 Thauma 9 Ki 0 DETAILS Skills Shimmer [Lv0] (NEW!) Class Neophyte [Tier 0] (NEW!) Status Effects [EXCLUDED] (NEW!) Tier 0 Low-Rank Spell: Shimmer (Natarlak) (NEW!)

The named spell that is both the weakest and simplest to learn of all spells. Shimmer creates a flash of harmless light at the target location.

Brightness is contingent on the amount of mana supplied.

Range and accuracy is contingent on the caster’s skill.