Len

The young man condensed his magic as far as he could, and slowly, but surely, he began the vortex. This was his fifth attempt, and though Astra had constantly warned him to take it slowly at first, Len was too impatient. He wanted results now.

But slow and steady, despite Len’s wishes, was the answer. The vortex had to naturally accelerate, giving Len time to get used to keeping it dense while it did just that.

The air he now breathed was thick and rich, filled with the incredible potential of magic. He felt it enter into these things Astra called lungs, and after detaching from the vessels carrying his blood, they entered into these meridians. New words to describe novel concepts, Len committed them to memory while he observed the magic coursing through his meridians, lighting them up before depositing in his slowly growing sea of magic in his core.

When it was done, he had a lot of magic, and… yeah, that was just about it. He hadn’t received other increases in ability, either physical or magical in nature. When he opened his eyes to see Astra’s expectant face, he didn’t really have much to give him.

They had rented themselves a room at an inn. Unlike the village before, Alquist was busy even into the night, so few really thought to stare at the large Astra. It made getting a room much less of a hassle.

“How do you feel?” Astra asked.

“No different,” Len replied, and winced as Astra pouted at that. “But I did accumulate a lot of… it,” he said. He didn’t want to take the chance of speaking about magic while in town. Alquist was closer to Neulea, and so, their laws held much more sway here. If they knew about Astra, there would be a reckoning.

Only their village was safe. No one ever travelled there. It was an absolute dead-end, after all.

“Okay,” Astra accepted it. “I want you to close your eyes and concentrate again.”

Len complied, easily feeling his core much more vividly than before.

Now, Astra began to whisper. “Other than the standard meridians that lead magic from your lungs into your core, there are several others that have thus far remained untraversed,” he explained. “You need to lead your magic out from your core and into one of the holes attached to it. You need to do this carefully, as the meridians that course through you could affect your other… internal organs,” Astra explained. “Be careful, and continue slowly. Otherwise, you may find yourself in a lot of pain.”

Len quickly got to work.

He directed the magic in his core to create a tendril towards one of the holes, one which he knew his magic hadn’t traversed through as of yet.

The tendril was incredibly wide compared to the minute hole. It crashed into it ineffectually, and the magic was much too viscous to enter through it, no matter how many attempts he made, or how powerfully he smashed his magic into the hole.

“Hmmm,” Astra hummed. “Try making the magic thinner. Weave them into small threads.”

A thread?

Len tried it out. He seized a clump of magic and thinned it out, stretching and twisting it into small threads. As he made them thin enough to fit through the holes, they lost coherence and dispersed into the surrounding magic.

He needed the magic to become denser. Otherwise, the magic couldn’t cohere into threads.

Condensing the magic as far as he could possibly go, and then going even further by just a little, he restarted his vortex and marveled as the surrounding magic rushed in towards the sucking force. He gulped in magic at a tremendous rate, waiting until his core was entirely filled, and until he could no longer even take in a little magic.

He felt bloated, nearly sick. His magic almost had substance, now.

With redoubled intensity and concentration, he selected a small portion of his magic and began to weave a thread. The magic complied almost instantaneously, relieved to be taking on a more efficient form. The thread thinned and thinned, becoming thin enough to fit into the other meridians, and grew thinner still.

He did not begin to push the thread into a meridian, but instead worked to refine all the magic into threads.

Viscous impurities began to separate from the magic he had refined, letting the magic become even purer and coherent. The threads became a jumbled mess which Len immediately set to organizing, turning the mess into an almost three-dimensional spiral which continued to spin at a sedate pace.

He encountered a problem then. The spiral needed to continue spinning with his conscious direction. Otherwise it would expand into formless magic again.

“Don’t grow disheartened,” Astra hummed gently. “You are on the right path. Simply keep going.”

Len remembered his primary objective then, and decided to finally push one end of a thread into a meridian.

The meridian split in two somewhere above his sternum. The threads remained coherent as they followed different streams. The circuits made a turn around his arms, flowing through them, through the wrist, hand and finally the middle-finger, where it made another turn and returned from whence it came, flowing through another meridian which then connected towards his core.

The veins on his wrists began to bulge wildly, almost painfully as he could feel his blood pump throughout almost every portion of his body, lead through his heart where it then redistributed towards his entire body. The pain abated soon, but was merely replaced by a sickening stench which entered into his nostrils.

“Yuck!” He opened his eyes, and was aghast to see his skin covered in a black, viscous sludge which clung to his skin tenaciously. It was almost enough to have him lose control of his magic spiral, but he kept it stable and continued to concentrate.

Astra, blessed be his name, waved a hand over him, washing him with an almost tangible light which burned away all the impurities, and with it, the smell. In mere moments, Len was squeaky clean!

“Congratulations,” Astra said, “Again. Now we know what to do going forward.”

Len tried to withhold a squeal before sitting down to open up a new meridian channel.

What he saw in his core almost shocked him. The spiraling threads were still there, but they were massively reduced in size. What used to be a dense ball of spiraling magic threads was now a two-dimensional spiral which had very few loops remaining.

He began spinning the threads, summoning a vortex, before Astra roused him. Len opened his eyes as Astra looked at him chidingly.

“It’s bed-time, now,” he said. “You need your sleep to be healthy and happy.”

Len’s cheeks reddened as he smiled bashfully. “Oh, sorry. I guess I was too caught up. I’ll be sleeping, now.”

Astra nodded in approval. Len laid down to sleep on his straw-bed, and was unconscious in mere moments, the insanity of the day having truly caught up with him.

000

The town of Alquist was a sobering sight. So many humans consorted with each other, trading items for metallic coins that somehow held value. There was an underlying tension, of course, but one which I had long since attributed to the insidious hold of death. Traders traded for money in order to stave off hunger and then death. Workers worked in order to also stave of hunger-induced death. There were wretches who begged for coin, people who were wounded chronically, incapable of working for their keep.

Things weren’t that great in my tribe’s village, but at least there, we all shared our hardships. Here, it seemed to be a race towards the next meal, where cheating was even an expected and valid tactic to get further ahead. I didn’t quite like this at all, but Len paid it no mind at all as he led me towards the various smithies where we haggled for a good price on the pickaxes.

We eventually did come upon one whose prices were reasonable enough, and was exceedingly friendly towards me. We managed to secure an excess of twenty pickaxes which could easily penetrate through stone and lay any and all valuable mineral bare.

Len stopped me before I could explain our purpose. It apparently wouldn’t do to flare their jealousy needlessly.

After a good few hours of this, we stepped out into the main streets, a cart filled with pickaxes trailing behind us, just in time to observe a spectacle.

“Make way, make way for Alquist’s Town Mage! His Excellency, Snyder!”

The crier screamed as a robed man holding a wooden staff with a red gem affixed to its end paraded through the streets, flanked by a procession of armed and armored soldiers.

Len nudged me, explaining his position. “He is an emissary from Neulea, sent here to keep things under control.”

“Ah,” I hummed in understanding. “So he must be quite formidable, then.” I peered into his body, feeling for any magic, but was shocked to see that none of his meridians were even cleared. In fact, the only thing he had going for him was a full core of more or less pure magic!

Without a spiral, the continued accumulation of impurities would not be ground down to nothingness completely, and as such, would eventually require the mage to ingest a beast core in order to remove all the taint, as well as all his magic. How could such a man be considered formidable at all? He was hardly even a step above anyone else, and his physique, slight as it was, would probably only put him on par with two soldiers at most. Impressive for a single combatant, but nowhere near the level where he was reasonably expected to keep an entire town under control.

My eyes absently fell on his staff, and my eyes widened dramatically.

Lines were engraved in the wood, circuits which let magic channel towards it effectively. The circuits led towards the gem before leading back down again, towards where the mage kept his hand. The circuits continued even further down towards the butt of the staff, before circling back up again. The lines going down towards the butt would make sure that any wasted magic would return to the Fire Red gem again. Only a cursory twitch of the mage’s magic would activate the stone and summon fire.

This was an incredibly mediocre man outfitted with an incredibly complex weapon. I had no doubt in my mind that there were more powerful individuals behind him.

When Snyder’s eyes fell on the surrounding people, he adopted an expression of disdain, sneering righteously at people whom he deemed was beneath him. To a certain extent, he wasn’t wrong, but just being half a step better than everyone still only put him half a step away from them. As it stood, even Len could bring more power to bear than him!

The meridian he opened, which I had aptly named the blood circulation meridian, had not only increased his strength of arms, but had also improved the efficiency of his breathing, and the rate at which… oxygen would flow into his muscles, empowering them dramatically.

Though there were dozens more meridians, I had a feeling that even unlocking them all would still not give the boy the ability create such a staff. That sort of power was in another realm entirely.

The procession halted in the town’s main square. Snyder cleared his throat, and soon began to speak. “The orcs are on the move.”

I was astonished as the populace gasped and moaned in fear, the emotion radiating out of them in waves. I looked down at Len, his face ashen. I took his hand, pressing it gently for comfort. Whatever this was, I would see him through it.

“Orcish war bands march eastwards. The City of Neulea calls upon able-bodied men to join the resistance!” The entire town was utterly quiet. “Three silver will be bequeathed every month to every fighting man, and one who has distinguished themselves the most may be called upon to become a knight of Neulea’s city master!”

Excited mutters spread wildly as peoples’ greed was pitched. It seemed that even during wartime, people would still find a way to let their greed shine outwards.

While those with valid trades would no doubt balk at giving up their safety for mere money, the unemployed eyed the Town Mage with barely concealed glee. For them, this was their hope of a better life.

“That is all,” Snyder simply said, before returning from whence he came, his procession following along.

I dragged the cart along, Len guarding it from behind with a pickaxe in hand. With nothing else to do in the town, we walked straight out. When we were finally far enough away, I looked to see Len clutching the pick close to his chest.

“What’s bothering you?” I asked gently.

“It’s…” he murmured before looking up at me. “An orc incursion isn’t something that is easily ignored. If the aristocrats don’t like the number of soldiers they have, they could even scour the surrounding mountain villages and tribes. If a recruiter comes to our village and sees our temple, then...”

“Then what?” I asked.

His eyes narrowed as he looked away from me. “Worship of Gods is banned in these lands, and it is punishable… by death. Even an entire village could be put to death, especially if they find out that our devotion brought you to life. There is no telling how others would react… but it won’t be good.”

Fear, guilt and doubt struck me in debilitating waves. I did this. I was the cause.

“Don’t blame yourself!” Len shouted. “It’s not fair! You’re here, now, so that means you’re one of us. We’ll take things as they come, but there’s no point regretting things at this juncture. You needed a temple to accrue power, and with our devotion, I know that you’ll be able to protect us.”

The guilt left me slowly as I considered Len’s words. I could sense his sincerity. He didn’t consider me a burden at all. I was… grateful for his love, I truly was.

Very well.

What we needed to do was to be prepared.

“How long before they come to our village?” I asked.

“They… they may not even bother,” Len admitted. “But if things don’t go well for them, it could be a month, latest a month and a half.”

“That would be enough time to demolish the temple and cover our tracks,” I said, before wincing at the mental image it conjured. The temple was a great focal point for my power, one which would allow me to store magic and call upon it whenever I desired. Demolishing the temple would cripple me, though not irreparably.

“No,” Len said, fire and fervor in his voice. “You’ve shown me a path to power. We can defend ourselves. I alone could take maybe three soldiers on my lonesome if I had a sword, and this power would only increase with more time as I unlock every meridian. If all of us become that strong, we could be a match for any army!”

He was… speaking truth, to a certain extent. If met with mundane combatants, Len would do well for himself, probably. Against Snyder and that staff of his… I couldn’t rightly tell.

Either way, it was better to be prepared.

And preparations would have to begin now. “We’re burning sunlight,” I said, again. “Hop into the cart.”

“What?!” Len exclaimed. “I can carry my own weight!”

“Please,” I requested. “We need to get home fast, and I fear sprinting all the way will still not be fast enough.”

Len looked at me in amused disbelief, which soon turned into frightened disbelief as the sincerity of my words sank in. “You can’t-“

“I can,” I said. “Please hop into the cart.”

Gingerly, Len cleared up a spot from all the pickaxes and sat down. I located good handholds before deciding on hugging around the cart’s thinnest edge. We were far enough away to avoid detection. With a mental command, gravity ceased to hold sway over me and I took off, cart in tow.

I ignored Len’s screams as I flew us back towards our village as fast as I could, letting the illusion over my body disperse as I took on my true appearance. It took only half an hour before we arrived. I touched down before the temple, setting the cart down gently, letting out the pale, horror-stricken Len.

The temple’s accumulated power rushed into me once I was fully in range. No longer was it just the trickle I received from so many dozens of miles away, but a full deluge which replenished all that I had spent in the last two days and more!

Ruman was helped along by the carpenter as they approached us. “God Astra, you’re back!”

“It’s good to see you, Ruman,” I smiled and nodded my head at the carpenter. “Fern.”

“You’ve brought the mining tools,” Ruman observed, “Though… your rush leads me to believe that there is something else afoot.”

I nodded gravely. “There is an orc incursion, and the City of Neulea is recruiting soldiers. They may come here to recruit as well.”

“Hmm,” Ruman hummed. “There is a small chance of that,” he said. “We mountain tribesmen are insular and weakened from decades of living in squalor, not worth the effort to come all the way here to recruit. Several incursions have passed since, and not a single recruiter has come our way.”

“Be that as it may,” I said. “We need to be prepared.” On a whim, I turned my sight on Ruman’s core, and recoiled at the viscous, incredibly dense mass of sludgy blackness. He was more impurity than magic, and the meridians leading magic from his lungs to his core were almost entirely clogged.

More than that, it seemed that the impurities were beginning to affect his body as well. He was old, and his organs reflected that. Even without the impurities, they would soon fail, but with them, I didn’t expect him to have months left, much less years.

“What do you suggest, God Astra?” Ruman asked.

I pulled out a core from inside my cloak. I couldn’t postpone this for a minute more. On account of being the oldest, only his core was in such a state of disrepair, but because he needed it the most, he was a priority.

“Drink lots of water,” I said ruefully.