BOOK 1, CHAPTER 8 – Hardcore Training

Artien looked at the door before him. An open expanse of endless darkness. Inside his mind urged him not to go in. Little Green, however, pushed at him from behind.

“There is nothing to fear. See what lays within.” The mother snake said.

He took a step slowly through the entryway. He passed through something unseen, like walking through a spider web. Once he passed through, the surroundings lit up. Several glow stones grew brighter, but dim enough for the small space. A domed rocky ceiling no more than eight feet high lay over the floor.

At the center was a small blue pool, five feet across, and circular in shape. There was at least a six-inch ledge all the way around. The water swirled and bubbled from the center. The closer to the center, the darker the blue until it reached an almost black shade.

Artien felt a huge push from behind. He lurched forward, splashing into the pool. There was a loud bang from behind as he steadied himself when he reached the center of the pool. The dark blue water reached just up to his center-thigh. Looking back, the door was closed.

He scowled down at the water.

“What am I supposed to do with this?”

He scooped some into his hands and sipped. The water was refreshing, tasting sweet and addicting. A feeling of energy entered his body from his stomach. Some of the energy was absorbed into his body, but the rest seemed to dissipate as he exhaled. He sat, crossing his legs. The water level rose, reaching just beneath his chin.

He relaxed, going into meditation. He circulated the mana within from the flame, hoping to discover exactly what the water was. As he meditated, the water began to bubble fiercely. It swirled around the center and his body. As he meditated, the water level began to slightly lighten.

His body began to fill up. Every bone, muscle, and organ was full of energy. Even his hair and skin had a slight bluish tinge to it. His body madly absorbed as much blue water as it could. His skin started to puffin, making him look fat. The blue tinge turned red and his flame suddenly sparked wildly.

His body stiffened in response as he quickly tried to control the flame. It danced through his grasp, quickly spreading through his body. His flame burned the energy he’d absorbed directly, leaving behind a tempered patch. He felt this happen simultaneously throughout his body.

Every place this occurred, newly minted flesh remained. This new flesh flexed and trembled, full of strength and vigor. His mind became incredibly clear, and he quickly understood what was happening. After his flame finished burning his body, his eyes opened and he thought back on the water and energy.

“A mana-filled liquid. A magic spring?” He asked himself in awe.

“A mythical magic spring!”

Everything made sense. “This will boost my strength faster than decades of meditation and training!”

“With this spring, my magic comprehension should go up.”

He closed his eyes and began meditating. This time, after his body filled with energy and filled to the brim, his flame reacted differently. It selectively burned only his tendons, joints, nails and hair. Once the areas were tempered, his flame drew in the remaining energy in his body to the tendons, joints, nails and hair. It began tempering again.

The flame continued to do this as long as there was energy in his body. He felt a closeness with his reaction speed. He thoroughly embraced the feeling, becoming accustomed to feeling more connected with himself. Soon, the flame devoured all the energy in his body to temper and returned to it’s place.

Artien let out a heavy breath.

Without opening his eyes, he began meditating again. He hungrily drew in more mana from the spring, loving the feeling of getting stronger. His body filled to the brim with energy. Once again, his flame flew out and designated where to strengthen next.

This time the flame chose his eyes, tongue, nose, and nerves. The feeling was strange as he felt energy in places he hadn’t noticed before. The burning slightly stung his senses as they were all made stronger, more effective. The flame then drew all the energy out of his body and re-tempered.

Artien repeated the process of meditation and temperance. With the mana-rich pool and his flame’s direction, his body strengthened to an unnatural degree for one of his age and experience. He felt invincible. Every piece of his body was tempered several times over. He felt both elation and wonder.

He opened his eyes, coming to a realization. With each full cycle of mediation and tempering, his body was strengthened and more robust. However, his sense of mana and his own flame was not improved.

According to his grandfather’s books on mana, his magic comprehension should have improved. What was the difference?

Though he was more familiar with the flame inside, it had not grown in size, shape, or color. His comprehension had remained the same.

“I refuse to believe I’m not talented enough for magic!”

He reached inside himself, finding that flame. He watched it, trying to get a feel for any changes. When nothing apparent changed, he touched the flame.

Unexpectedly, it roared. He tried to retreat and force the flame to calm. Instead, it shot out in all directions, seeking even more mana. It spread to the edges of his body, then slipped past his skin and sunk it’s fangs onto the pool around him.

A raging flame consumed the magical pool. Artien’s eyes shot open. Looking around, he saw he sat on a dry surface. No liquid remained. His body had absorbed the remaining magic pool. His heart pounded hard, feeling something inside of him ‘crack’ and his body went limp.

He was swept up in a raging storm of red fire and blue ice. The two forces intermingled. The fire grew strong as the ice shrunk until only the fire remained. A giant tornado of fire overwhelmed him. His body glazed with heat and his mind retreated to the only safe place left.

Darkness drew him in. A soft gentleness accompanied the darkness. Quiet coolness refreshed his spirit as he once again visited the mist-filled place. He looked back. Behind him were small specks of light, things he had already visited and knew. Ahead of him, the mist slowly drew back.

It beckoned him, and so he walked forward. As he walks forward, his age reversed. His face grew younger. His clothes became children’s clothing. He went from walking to a lazy skip. In his right hand was a long blade of grass. He swung it, pretending it was a blade of steel.

“Hmm-mmm. Hmm-mmm.” He hummed, a tune from the village that played whenever the local lord held a feast or honored guest.

The night was dark, and he’d walked far. The path through the forest curved and split into two. He had the choice of either the normal path the woodsman took, or the animal trail the hunters followed. He smiled and left on the animal trail, feeling rather adventurous. There was nothing to fear from the darkness.

A bright, full moon spread light through the night sky. It was so bright one could cook or work the fields by it. In fact, that’s what many of the villagers were doing now. As for him, he was too little to work yet. He kept himself busy by playing.

He somehow got distracted and left the animal trail. He stopped, panicked. He threw away the blade of grass and climbed a tall tree. Looked around, he spotted the fires of the village not far away. He sighed in relief. Before he climbed down, he spotted something glittering in the distance.

A few clouds parted and the moonlight hit upon some castle remains. Excited, he climbed down and ran towards the stones. A long while and two tree climbs later, he arrived at the entrance to magnificent stone ruins. The stones were moss covered and glittered. Awed, he ran his hands over the nearest stones.

The stones sparkled and glittered back under the moon, seemingly reflecting the light. A strange pattern showed underneath his fingers, then winked out. He laughed and found another stone to touch. It too glowed then went out. He went over to a tall, thick wall.

He placed both hands on the stone, watching as the entire wall lit up. A golden pattern shined on the stone wall. It sparkled like sunlight, small symbols lighting up in different colors between the patterns. A long blank space of wall was revealed, breaking the pattern. The wall then dimmed and went dark.

Curious, he ran his hands over the broken part of the wall. When his hands sunk into the wall, he yelped and jumped back. Unable to resist, he pressed against the wall again. He went forward, walking directly through the wall and into a space behind. His fingers his another wall, and an entire corridor lit up with golden specks of light.

The lights hovered in the air and lined up, showing him the way. He picked up a rock, ready to defend himself if necessary. Following the path, he left the corridor. He came to a set of stairs that led downwards. When he set food on the first step, the entire set of staircase lit up. He nearly ran down the stairs, feeling the thrill of discovery.

At the bottom of the stairs was a short hallway before a large room opened up. The room had some stores of spoiled grain and some racks of broken weapons. At the back of the room was a thick door with a heavy lock. He pulled on the lock, and it crumbled into dust.

He hurriedly brushed his hands off on his pants and pried open the door. A loud creek sounded and echoed in the room as the door opened a few inches before detaching from the wall. He dived out of the way as it slammed into the ground and splintered into pieces. He peeked around the side, seeing only darkness. He reached his hand inside and touched the stone wall. As expected, golden sparks gathered to one side and lit the way.

After traveling down another short distance, in more of a carved tunnel than a proper hallway, he came to a small room. It’s doors had long ago crumbled away. He stepped onto a dust-filled floor, disturbing centuries-old layers. As he went forward he left clean steps behind. Under his feet, the stone sparkled with golden light.

There was a large flash of gold light that blinded him. Shortly after the gold light dimmed. The floor, ceiling, and walls were all covered in the golden pattern with symbols of ever color. The pattern seemed to converge at the center north of the room. There was placed a large chair, with a skeleton dressed in rich-looking clothing.

He approached the skeleton, seeing a metal circlet on it’s head.

“The king of the castle!” Where there was a king, there was treasure.

He looked around the entire room, finding absolutely nothing. He approached the skeleton. Better to go back home with something than nothing, or no one would believe him. He touched the fine clothes, bitterly rendering them into dust.

He pouted, then reached for the crown. That too, crumbled under his hands. Out of spite, he touched the skeleton’s hand, watching the whole figure collapse in a poof. He coughed, wishing something could be taken. Serves that stingy king right!

He looked back. Maybe he could take the chair. His eyes widened with surprised hope as he saw a translucent bubble with a multitude of colors like an aura around it. He swallowed. This was a worthy treasure of his great self!

He reached forward, touching the bubble. It burst as soon as his fingers brushed against it. A rainbow of colors shot across his skin over his whole body, forming symbols not unlike that of those on the stone walls. The room lit up a final time, and he fell unconscious as memories of another person hit him.

A strong man. The strongest man. The most powerful magician. Alone, all by himself. In a crumbling castle where he was long forgotten. Mortals no longer hailed and called his name. What was his name again?

How horrible it was to be forgotten! He could not stand for this! He would make everyone in the world remember him again. All he needed was to show them magic. Let them know he was still there. Still able to protect them from the encroaching darkness if it ever returned.

Oh, Goddess, how these mortals and their short lives allow them to forget. He fisted his hands. Mana gathered at his fingertips. He waved his arms, using all of his knowledge to delve deep into the magic.

The magic spoke to him, called to him. His eyes glazed black. Golden sparks lit within. The knowledge was his!

Wait, what was this? This was too much for his body! Too much power!

He couldn’t hold it. No, he must save the information, even a small part of it would be enough. No one would forget him.

So heavy. Need to sit. Ah, there’s a chair. First, his dwelling must remain. Cast magic throughout, let those with the affinity to see know and learn. Everything is within!

Come and find it. My small treasure. The basic knowledge is within the walls. The real ability I with-hold for the next guardian to take my place. That is all that matters…

The little boy screamed and passed out, gaining something which no other person had known for over a thousand years…

Artien gasped, sitting upright as he absorbed all the available information from that one, tiny, little bubble of memories. His enhanced brain quickly sorted through the trivial and grasped upon the basics of symbols – the language of mana.

He opened his eyes. The glow stones emitted soft rays of light. He threw his hand in front of his face, feeling the mana in his body take on a whole new meaning.

“This, this,” He sputtered. Nothing came to mind to describe the feeling. To describe the knowledge, “Magic sight.. Magic language.”