The staff was an entirely different setup. Once again, the staff itself was made of wood infused with mana. But the crystal embedded near the top of the staff was a wellspring of mana, as well as the control mechanism that kept it flowing. To Dix’s new sense it seemed to burn with the fires of the sun, producing so much mana that it was almost blinding to attempt to understand. The mana of the crystal seemed to burn away his own mana unless it was incredibly dense. He had to shrink his sphere by quite a bit to produce enough mana density to get inside the crystal, and the only way he could actually map the mana flows was to actually coat them with his own mana.

This trick actually gave him way more information than he had originally thought it could. Following the pathways built into the crystal, and how they flowed out into the staff reminded him of some of the things he had recently learned when imbued with the knowledge to use magic. They were runes. Unlike the ones he had learned already, these seemed to be perfected. Smoother, and more refined, they guided the mana in precise arrangements, giving purpose to the flow. Not that he knew what that purpose was, but he recognised pieces of runes here and there. Most that he recognized were perfected pieces of a number of different spells. It was almost as though the staff was built to remove or replace certain sections of runes from needing to be involved in the casting of a spell. Dix guessed this was how a magic staff could improve efficiency or efficacy of different spells. If he was understanding this correctly, this particular staff was designed to work with the bolt line of spells, as those were the spells that held the matching rune pieces.

Over his shoulder, Dix asked, “Is this staff set up to improve the bolt spells?”

“Why do you say that?” Crossroads was still just relaxing in his chair, likely a couple drinks deeper than previously. Godly constitution must work wonders for alcohol tolerance.

“I recognize some of the rune work in the staff from the spells that Chance gave me, most of which are bolts. A couple of the area spells also share one or two as well, so I guess they would also benefit. The area spells don’t have as many runes in common between them though, so I imagine it is harder to make a weapon to amplify all of them at once.”

“Excellent.” The god set down his drink and heaved himself to his feet. Once more he summoned up the four different runic constructs above his hands. “Tell me about these now.”

Dix approached and extended his mana cloud just far enough to engulf all four of them. With his cloud condensed this close to him, he could really increase the density. The excess mana practically rushed into the runes above Crossroads hands. The god chuckled quietly as he watched Dix’s mana swirl around and into the runes, like water down a drain. The kid was a quick learner, something he would need to survive and thrive on Mantra. Particularly if things worked out the way he wanted them to.

Ignoring the slightly disconcerting god looming above him, Dix concentrated on what his mana was showing him, once again closing his eyes to help clarify what his brain was deciphering. A few things immediately jumped out at him. The first was that the runic construct above Crossroads upper right hand was an exact duplicate of the one he had already been given. The firebolt spell.

Things got strange after that. The rune just below that one was still the rune for the firebolt spell, but this one was better. Significantly so. His mana followed the twists and turns through the rune easier, faster. There were no bottlenecks, or too tight turns that slowed and compressed the mana. No pooling sections where the mana had to expand and fill before it could continue on to the next sections of the rune. It would definitely create the same effect, but for half of the mana cost, and speed. He was uncertain how much of an increase in damage it would result in, but he imagined it would be significant.

The runes on Crossroads left were, once again, completely different. They were the casts to the molds of the runes on the right. The runes on the right, like all of the original runes he had been gifted, were solid constructs that were filled with tunnels for the mana to flow through. These tunnels were the actual rune, but required a structure to support them. However, looking at the runes on the left brought him to the realization that there was an obvious problem with that idea. Why form a structure of mana only to run yet more mana through it, when you could just run your mana in the necessary pattern without bothering with building the structure?

They were also far more beautiful, easier to work with and modify, and significantly more efficient. As they didn’t require the caster to form the structure before flowing the mana through, even the inefficient rune in Crossroads upper left hand would take only one fifth of the mana as the original rune he had learned. The one in his lower left hand, optimized like the structured rune in the opposite hand, would cast for one tenth of the cost of the original.

After intently studying the bottom left rune for some time, Dix withdrew his mana and looked to Crossroads. “If I had to guess, these ones were the runes used by the Runeborn, and the others were what they gifted to the rest of the races. Correct?”

Smiling, Crossroads dropped his hands, the runes fading out, and nodded. Motioning Dix to sit back down, he returned to his leather chair once more. “You are correct. There is actually more to it than that as well. The valves that the other races use also restrict them to casting only from their hands, as well as locking them into the method they currently use. The runic structures they use are actually released and controlled by the valves linking to the casters mind. Once the structure is complete, the valve releases a pure flow of mana in the entry points of the structure and the spell casts. The only real improvements they can make to a spell would be altering the structure from the upper to the lower. And because they don’t actually have any understanding of how or why the runes work the way they do, they can only improve it through trial and error. Current understanding of spell casting states that the structure around the mana tunnels is actually necessary to hold the spell together, as the rushing flow of mana would break through and ruin the spell if the structure was any thinner. They also believe that the structure is a part of the power source of the spell. Despite being wrong on all accounts, they continue to teach this idiocy to everyone.

“Sadly, the reason they do this is the same reason that the Runeborn gave them the valves in the first place. None of the other races have the same talent with mana and runes as the Runeborn do. To even be able to cast spells at all they needed an aid, a tool that could do most of the work for them. They were and are, however, extremely talented at imbuing skills with mana, resulting in a lot of the skills you were using during the second test. Not realizing that it was a natural difference between the races, the Humans, in the search for more power, decided the Runeborn had given them less powerful spells and started a war. Despite their massively increased spell casting abilities, the Runeborn were still slaughtered through the vast difference in numbers.” The disgusted look on Crossroads' face made it clear that he didn’t approve.

While the old god was ruminating over the loss of the magic race, Dix was pondering something else. The staff he had studied earlier was still within the reduced area of his mana sphere, so he sent his mana back inside of it to confirm what he was thinking. He quickly realized he was right, but there was really only one way to know for sure why things were this way.

“Why are the runes on the staff of the same type as the Runeborn used? Shouldn’t they use the same type as the rest of the races? Is it because a god made them, or something else?”

Crossroads barked a laugh, “Ha! Good eyes. The answer should amuse you. While the staff was made by Roanoak, that’s not why the runes differ. The reality is arrogance. Mages and enchanters don’t get along very well. So when the enchanters figured out that they didn’t need the full structure to get a rune to work while enchanting, they neglected to tell their magic wielding compatriots. Eventually the mages learned of it, of course, but decided, in their infinite wisdom, that anything the enchanters had discovered must be wrong. Having dismissed the entire idea as a hoax, they instead doubled down on the structure being an important component for the spell. What a bunch of idiots.” Much knee slapping and laughter by the god followed after.

“No one even tried?” Dix was slightly perplexed by people not even bothering to attempt it.

“Oh, they tried, that’s why they hate the enchanters even more now. Both sides are actually right. See, they actually can’t cast spells that way. The runes work better in all ways without the structure, but the valves are impossible to be used without the structure. If they knew, they would have blamed the Runeborn even more. The best part though? It’s their own damn fault.

“The valves were supposed to be a stop gap measure for people when they were first brought to Mantra. Offworlders generally have no ability or talent with mana, so the valves were used to allow them to access spells. After a time the races would adapt to the mana, and new generations born on Mantra wouldn’t need the valves. But they kept making them and implanting them into their children to give them a jump on their skills. Anyone going into a combat role was required to have them, so they gave them out at guilds and guardhouses. In an attempt to stop the idiocy, the system was changed to tie new people to mana. Despite this change, people still kept using the valves, and eventually they were just integrated into the system startup. People who cast spells, but don’t have valves are inevitably hunted down and killed because they must obviously be monsters. Superstitious idiots.”

The very idea of a god, a being that Dix had thought was the definition of superstition before he died, flinging scorn at people for their superstitions made Dix snort quietly into his fist as he tried to hide his laughter. Crossroads simply ignored him and carried on.

“You are going to have something similar looking, but it won’t link to your mana. For me to do that though, you are going to have to let me bind your racial choice to your soul so you can’t change your mind later.”

“What the hell? What does that even mean?” Dix’s laughter evaporated instantly. He was totally at a loss here. He thought he was getting his racial change now, not getting some weird mana implant things. And some sort of soul binding? That never sounds good. Elise was the one into bondage, not him.

“Your race can’t be changed until after you have gone through all three tests. But if I let Chance put those things in you, it would essentially cripple you. To keep that from happening, I’m going to swap out the ones she has in her hand with these new ones, and you are going to choose the same race when you get to that point or I will tear your soul from your body and rip it asunder. Got it?” This whole speech was delivered with Crossroads alternating which hand he was using to poke towards Dix’s chest. Towards his chest instead of into it because the god was too lazy to put down his drink and get up to do it. Despite the distance, Dix still felt the not so subtle hint of his impending redemise, quickly raising his hands and nodding to reassure the god who was still too lazy to indulge his irritation.

“Yep. I got it. No need to get feisty.”

“Hmph. Now, in return for me telling you all of this stuff, you have to explain to me how it is that even when I’m reading your mind only a couple of actual thoughts come through every now and then.” The stern look he was giving off this time wouldn’t have been that bad, but it was accompanied by a terrifying feeling. The ambient light of the room dimmed, and the temperature dropped by a few degrees. Dix realized his heart was pounding in his chest as he stumbled backwards into the shelf. Despite the realization that Crossroads had something above him on the power and command scales, he was still the most powerful of the gods Dix had met since his arrival. And all of the gods were stronger than his lowly human self. Finding himself locked in time with an angry super god was more than a little terrifying. Not quite pants wettingly so, but pretty close.

He slid down the shelf until he was sitting as sweat broke out all over him. He wasn’t consciously letting his fear rule him, it was just his body’s instinctual reaction. When you see a giant meteor or a nuclear bomb falling at you from the sky your mind can accept your impending death, but your body still freaks out.

Dix quickly scanned back over everything that he had thought about since he died. He hadn’t done anything different, other than not thinking about certain things at all. Not that that was all that different for him in the first place. Most of his thinking was something he wasn’t even aware of, his subconscious just chewing through whatever information he had until it found something that would solve whatever problem he was currently dealing with. With a solution found, it would just spit out a simple thought and he would work from there. None of it was controlled. The rest of the time he was just a creature of instinct. Perhaps that was what the god was asking about.

He looked back up to meet Crossroads eyes, having ducked his head when he sat. The moment he saw the intense look on the god’s face he got nervous again. Crossroads pointed at him again, leaning farther forward in his chair. “There! That! What is that? How do you do it?”

Dix just shook his head, saying, “I think I know what you are talking about. It’s not like I’ve ever had people trying to read my mind before, so this is all a little new to me. I’ll try to explain.” He took a couple of deep breaths to calm down.

“When I was younger my mind was always going a mile a minute. I couldn’t keep focused on much of anything. It didn’t help when dealing with people at all, and kept my emotions going all over the place. While this is normal for most kids to an extent, I believe it was worse for me because of how smart I am. Intelligence doesn’t make up for experience when dealing with human interaction.” He mimed a drink and another appeared next to him, his previous one having fallen to the ground when he stumbled into the shelf. Crossroads had waved it away before he had even noticed it. He rolled the whiskey around in his mouth for a bit, savoring the flavors before he swallowed and went back to his story.

“My dad eventually put me into martial arts to help me control my temper. My sensei noticed how easily distracted I was, and forcibly taught me meditation. At first it was hard. I mean really hard. He would turn it into stretching exercises, where I would try to meditate the pain away as he pulled my limbs to just shy of the tearing point. More as a survival instinct than anything else I think, I eventually learned to quiet my mind. Over time I believe I locked the greater part of my intellect away into my subconscious, allowing me to stay calmer without all those thoughts getting me confused all the time. Now, my subconscious does all the work, so that I don’t have to. Of course I accidentally did the same thing to the majority of my emotions, but with a less permanent enclosure. Now my day to day life is basically all on instinct. I don’t think about things, I just do them.” He paused to sip again, glancing at Crossroads who seemed riveted by his story.

“I first realized the potential of what I had done in high school. Most of my day I spent reading books or flirting with girls, even during class. For most people it is hard to learn when you don’t pay attention to what the teacher is attempting to teach you. Not me. Somehow I was still learning everything that could be learned from anything around me whether I was paying attention or not. Reading a book while a teacher lectured, and I still aced the test. A series of documentaries playing in the background while I was having sex over a couple of weeks with a girl obsessed with them? Now I know way too much about all sorts of stuff I was never interested in. I’ve gotten so used to it I don’t even notice it anymore.

“The basic idea is that I have wandered around for the last twenty years in a meditative state. Or I’m crazy. Not really sure which is more accurate. Maybe both.” The serene smile on his face did not clarify which theory was correct at all.