Mathew got of the windowsill, hurting his left ankle slightly and shuffled over to the smaller room. His body feeling rythm of music he sadly, couldn't turn on, the Hi-Fi set lacking few of the cables. The excitement brought by change, building up, seeking to be somehow unleashed. From underneath the table he collected old acrilic paints, and from the table a glass jar with the brushes. The mage put the paints and brushes in the middle of the floor in the larger room, and came back with the jar to the bathroom.

While filling the jar with cold water, he looked in the mirror. Dark circles under brown eyes framed by long eyelashes, chubby cheeks hiding bones that once gave his face so much character, beneath purposefully day old stache and beard, full lips, not as red as they used to be. He tried stretching and flattening his cheeks, and with a resigned sigh splashed some cold water on his face. After drying his hands Mathew gathered his dark brown hair into a pony tail, but with nothing to tie it, just let it fall back down on his shoulders. He smiled at his reflection, a little light appearing in his eyes, grabbed the jar half filled with water and returned to his painting supplies. Before he got to painting, he moved the bookshelves over to the wall the painting with a man and a dog hanged on, leaving one wall entirely empty.

Mathew stood in front of the wall for a couple of minutes, just taking it in, thinking how to express himself. Finally, he picked up the black paint, squeezed it out in a couple spots on the wall and with a thumb thick brush dripping with water, began writing: Fatty, CHEATER, hedonist, lazy a$s, GoNE, forgot You. He kept writing, occasionally changing the colour of the paint, until the wall from his knees to slightly above his head was just a colourfull mess. Mathew took a deep breath, put the brush in the dirty water and sat down. His chest felt both light and heavy, as if the weight he took off it was now dragging him down as if chained to his lungs. He got back to his feet, surprised the weight didn't stop him. With a chuckle he grabbed the jar of dirty water, in the bathroom he poured the water out together with the brush, cleaned the jar and with it filled with clean water came back to the larger room.

The paint on the wall was still wet, so Mathew sat down to meditate. According to his experience, he attempted to slowly draw out magic and spread it through the shrivelled channels in his body. The well of magic energy, he had once developed, flooded him with painfully cold mana making him go into a coughing fit. After a few failed attempts, he decided to try a different approach. He brought up the System windows and with the instructions read, slowly, ever so slowly drew in the mana from the air into himself. The process went smoothly until the energy reached his heart and lugs, where sharp pain exploded in his chest. Mathew fell face forward, and vomited out black tobacco sludge mixed with blood. The man rolled onto his back, allowing himself to rest. The smell of old tobacco annoyed his nose and the taste of vomit irritated his throat, but breathing was the slightest bit easier. Feeling better half an hour later, Mathew got up and picked up blue and white paints as well as a hand sized brush. Tools in hand, he covered most of the mess on the wall in a light blue, occasionally massaging his throat.

Now he had to wait for the paint to dry again, not wanting to go into a coughing fit once more, he began doing light stretches. The tips of his fingers barely reached his feet, he couldn't quite catch his hands behind his back, but waving this way and that limbered him up a little. He only managed five of each, sit-ups, squats and push-ups, and with still some time until the paint was dry, got to cleaning up the mess he vomited. Fifteen minutes later, the floor scrubbed, his hands clean and mouth washed out a couple of times he stood in front of the wall again. After picking pink, yellow and white paints he picked up a brush about three fingers wide and being generous with water got to painting two open, palms up hands. Each of the hands was about two thirds his size, the colours not merging together except where the paint streaked down. Between the hands Mathew drew an open, silver half circle, points up.

Mathew took a few steps back, "For the next few months I will have to fill this well..." he spoke to himself and sighed. As a last touch, he added a black and red smudge just above the floor, directly below the silver well. He made sure to close the paint tubes, and admired the messy paint splashes all over the floor. This type of mess caused by work, always filled him with a sense of accomplishement, so he decided to just leave it. The hour late by now, he felt tired, but didn't want to go to sleep without making at least a little more progress in revitilisng his mana channels. Mathew shuffled to the bathroom and in accordance with Systems instructions meditated next to the shower. Once more energy flowed into him easily, filling him with a pleasant chill, until it reached his lungs that is. Sharp pain flashed out of them, and once more the mage vomited out a couple fistfulls of black sludge mixed with blood.

His body shaking, Mathew pulled himself up grabbing the sink. The cricles under his eyes were deeper, his face pale and lips purple. He took a moment to gather himself and shuffled into his bedroom, tired and in pain. The moment his body hit the soft, misshapen mattress, the man fell into a dreamless sleep.

Come morning, the cheer of children hurrying to school woke the man up. When he turned to nap a bit more, System began flashing in his eyes, causing Mathew to grumpily get up. With nothing to provide distraction or entertainment, the man had no choice but begin his morning. Ten push ups, fifteen sit ups and twenty squats later he shuffled on trembling legs to the bathroom. After shower he realised he forgot to hang his clothes to dry, and set the waching machine to do them again. There was also no food in the kitchen, so in yesterdays clothes, a zipped up black jacket, to hide the lack of a shirt, and comfy sports shoes, he bought a year earlier, he left to do some shopping. He hoped, that in the last two years that he mostly ordered take out online, the local shops didn't close for whatever reason. It would be a couple of days this part of the moon was in the night phase, so the streets were lit up by solar lamps and still growing pine like trees that provided a light silver shine. The street was a border between the high rise office district, and a mostly residential district that mimicked European old towns. The grocery shop was where he remembered, at a corner down the street to the left of his apartment building. In the store Mathew decided a walk would do him well, so he grabbed some things for dinner to cook later, a sandwich the clerk heated up in the microwave and bottled tea. On the way out the mage said in a soft voice "Have a nice day", but didn't wait for a response.

"I will have to train my voice, I sound like a teenager trying to ask out a crush he's been stalking in school for a year." With thoughts like this, Mathew slowly walked to a park fifteen minutes away from his home, munching on the chicken sandwich. The tea waited in his jackets pocket until he had both hands free. The park didn't have a fence or paths, being pretty much just a small forrest in the middle of the city. Here and there were regular steel and wood benches, as well as some bench like sculptures. In the middle was a lake, in front of which stone stood a statue of one of the founders of the Moon colony. A short asian woman, holding a staff in the right hand and an electronic notepad serving as her Grimoire in the other. Before magic, the woman was an office lady in a small Japanese company, had no interest in fantasy except for few movies her friends took her to when they were teenagers. Now the woman, alongside another five people from around the world, headed the most advanced nation of Earths humanity. Mathew struggled to remember what the nation he lived in was actually called, or how exactly it managed to set itself up aside from mundane politics, but his mind came up blank. Just one of many things that slipped past him because of youthful arrogance and a lack of interest in the world later on. He walked around to the other side of the lake and sat down on a bench carved out of a dark crystal.

The packaging of the finished sandwich was stuffed into one of the pockets of his jacket. The man slowly drank his tea, taking in the smell of the forest and trying to keep his mind empty. At this hour the park was mostly empty, few workers searching for the trash people might have left behind, some older people fed very earthly ducks that swam in the lake and two or three groups of students had open air lectures. Sometimes a student would come up to the older people, ask some questions and hurry back to their group. Once Mathew finished the tea, his hands and mouth began to feel restless not finding the cigarettes for the morning ritual. With a sigh, he got up and while trying to keep his posture straight walked back home.

Inside his four walled sanctuary, the mage flopped onto the bed just to have the System flash windows in his eyes, reminding him to cultivate. He pushed himself up, stretched to get the yawns out of his system and went to the bathroom. On the way he remembered to take off the jacket, the thing sticking to his skin in an unpleasant manner now that he was in a warm appartment. In the bathroom Mathew noticed the washing machine was done, so he took out his clothes and carried them to dry. In the larger room, he took a moment to look at the last nights creation and shook his head, while a small smile played on his face. The clothes taken care of, the mage came back to the bathroom and slowly sat down to meditate. For a couple minutes he couldn't concentrate, his body afraid of the pain the process would end with. He put his head against the cold glass of the shower and focused on the pleasant side of meditation that would come first. Once he steadied his breath, he drew in the mana. The energy flowed slowly, again spreading a pleasant chill within his body. Once it reached his lungs, came a new type of pain as if thousands of needles pierced through them. Too distracted to read the windows System flashed in his eyes, Mathew tried to vomit the sludge but nothing came out. A short while after the pain subsided, and the man read through the notifications. It seemed he got rid of the worst of the dirt in his lungs, and now would need to keep the energy flowing into his lungs a while longer to force out small chunks of the filth. The mage began again, as the pain in his chest sharpened again he kept drawing the energy in. Suddenly a force of granulated filth escaped through his mouth, scratching up his throat in the process. As Mathew was facing the open shower, all of it got into it. The man slumped down, resting his arms on the sliding doors of the shower to avoid falling with his face into the things he spat out.

Once he could breath calmly again, the mage lied down on his back. His mind buzzed, empty of thought just focusing on the bright, white ceiling above him. When he could properly think again, after what felt like minutes but turned out to be a couple hours Mathew decided to make dinner. On his way to the kitchen he noticed he left the groceries in the corridor and picked them up. A simple spaghetti with a sauce from chopped tomatoes in a can would do. After dinner, he meditated, trying to memorise and form Ice runes the System provided him with. Once he got tired of that, he attempted to exercise, managing less than in the morning. After exercise Mathew again flooded his body with energy, pushed through the pain of cleaning his lungs and meditated on runes some more. Before sleep he tried to paint or draw, but couldn't gather any inspiration for it and gave up. For now, magic would do enough for self improvement.

The next day went about the same, but Mathew began playing music from youtube on his phone. The day after that he was paying some attention to the music videos. After a week, his lungs were almost cleaned, but he was spending more and more time looking at his phone, stalled in physical exercise and his motivation was running on fumes. Thinking that maybe some outside motivation would help anchor him, the mage decided to call a psychologist he used to visit a year, or maybe three earlier. Mathew thought he would get a call back later in the day, but the phone was picked up almost traight away.

"Mathew!", a male voice exclaimed, "It is so nice to hear from you, how are you doing?"

Glad to have this covnersation while he was still motivated, the mage cleared his throat before speaking, "Quitewell, actually. I... I've been keeping up decent schedule a week now." Mathew felt himself relax and slowed down his speech, "I thought I'd like to schedule a visit or few."

After a breef moment of silence on the other side, the psychologist asked "I have some windows open, when would it suit you?"

Excitement leaking out of his voice the mage responded, "As usuall, I'm always free, though I would prefer an evening."

From the other side came the sound of pages being shuffled, and a response, "What do you say about tomorrow around seven in the evening?"

"That sounds perfect Jacob!" Mathew quickly replied.

"Alright, see you tomorrow, and remember you can always call." reminded Jacob. With that their conversation ended and Mathew put away his phone. After a second of thought, he shoved it away to the corner of the room. He decided to exercise a little straight away. Fifteen push ups, twenty five squats and fifteen sits ups later the man was spent. Maybe it was just the lights he began turning on, but the world seemed a little brighter.