Learning to cast the spell had not been an instant process. Finding his mana pool had been easy, instinctual even, like feeling out his soul space. It was a tiny balloon of energy that sat just below chest, right in the center of his body. Learning to manipulate the mana to move within him had been much more difficult. But after working on it constantly and failing for a whole week, he tried tackling the problem from a different angle by training meditation first.

Ashur been most concerned learning to meditate. He was good at following instructions, but the concept as just so vague, and he figured learning to move his mana would be the easy part. Sitting still and emptying his mind seemed to be impossible. There were just too many interesting things out there to think about he thought. The idea of drawing in energy from the very air around him was mystifying.

But in the end, it was as simple as breathing.

Like the book suggested, Ashur had sat down on the floor and worked on clearing his mind. That was far easier said than done. He closed his eyes because the world around him was far too distracting, but that just seemed to make every one of his remaining senses heighten. He was soon amazed at the amount of noises inside his empty room. The wind rattled against the shutters, the boards creaked and groaned as the house shifted, his father was pounding on the sole of as boot downstairs. A hundred tiny sounds fought for his attention, until he finally decided that focusing on one of them would help him ignore the others. He needed something steady and soothing, a sound that would always be there wherever he chose to meditate. Ashur chose to center himself on the sound of his own breathing.

By focusing on taking long and steady breaths, he was slowly able to shut off the rest of the world. They boy took to it like a fish to water, his mind relaxing as he focused on the feelings and sounds of air flowing in and out of his chest. When it felt right, he started around him for ambient mana. It was right there beside him, floating in the air around him. Ashur wondered at how he could have not noticed all this energy around him his entire life. The energy was so vast that it overwhelmed his senses, and he lost the feeling altogether.

It took him fifteen minutes to return to the meditative state, but the next time he was better prepared for the experience. That time he was able to maintain the trance and study the mana around him. With his eyes closed he couldn’t see anything, but the feel of it was very distinct. Little specs of magic floating around in the air, some drifting in an unknown current while others held still or moved in random patterns. The pieces grouped together with others that moved in similar manors, and each group had a different flavor to them.

Looking inward he found the small dense bead of mana inside his center. After feeling how much mana was in the air, Ashur started to understand what Poupon had said about its diminutive size. It wouldn’t take but a fraction of what was out there refill. Maybe it was like a muscle and would grow if it was used? Ashur hoped it would. Refocusing on his task he tried to pull the mana in and found that with only a smidgen of concentration, mana flowed into his lungs as he inhaled. It attempted linger in his center, but the little bead was full, and the mana drifted back into the air when he exhaled.

The process clued Ashur in on how to manipulate his own personal mana. It was intensely complicated, yet simple all at once, like an intricate puzzle completed so many times it had lost its challenge. Whatever it was that held the mana tightly within the bead seemed wanted to keep it in. Like a keg prior to being tapped, a changed was needed for the contents to be released. Imagining a small door at the edge of the bead, he opened it. The mana immediately responded and flowed outwards, spreading out into his body in a disorganized fashion. Losing his train of thought, the door slammed shut on its own. The boy practiced opening the door repeatedly, until he felt he could do it at will. He never had to practice shutting the opening though. Its natural state seemed to be closed and quickly sealed whenever his attention wandered.

When the mana got loose into his body it flowed all over. He could feel it traveling up and down his legs or across his chest. Eventually his bead would empty and he would stop and half to meditate to refill it before continuing. Once he felt confident he imagined himself grabbing a hold of the mana spilling from the pool and pulled it upwards, but the energy slipped through his existential fingertips. He tried pushing, shoving and forcing it to his will before realizing that it was not something to be fought or ordered about. The mana was a part of him, and it wanted to do what he was asking. It just needed to understand his directions. It did not need to be forced, it only needed a little guidance.

With that thought in mind, Ashur imagined a pathway from the pool to his fingertips and watched as it flowed towards them. From there he opened another channel from his fingertips to his feet, and the mana flowed. The energy bled off when it touched his skin, and the pool eventually emptied. He then spent the next few hours refilling it. Ashur was worried when he noticed that the flavors of mana in the air did not match the mana in his body, but after drawing them into his pool they would change into his type of mana. Ashur spent several more days practicing before he felt confident enough to move on to the next step.

Picturing the rune in his head was easy; he just imprinted it where the back of his forehead was. The difficulty was in holding that image and while drawing the rune in the air with his right hand. Add in speaking the rune’s trigger word and it became quite difficult indeed. Ashur decided to master each piece of the spell, and only then work on combining them. Ashur started by spending days drawing the rune with his finger. It took him a while to finding a series of imaginary brush strokes that felt right, and after that it was a matter of repetitive practice until he had it down.

After mastering the hand motions, the he combined the next step, picturing the rune in his mind. It helped if he imagined splitting his mind to pay attention the separate aspects. That process in itself was tricky and caused him to have a headache for a week, but eventually his mind got used to the extra strain. Finally he added the word, ìl-Fàsça­­, splitting his mind yet a third time to imagine what effect he wanted the spell to have. The headaches were not as bad that time, but his nose still bled on occasion. The whole learning process took him six weeks, but he finally was ready to cast his first spell.

As befitting a cobbler’s son, the first object Ashur grasped with magic was an old leather boot. Setting it upon the kitchen table he stood and prepared himself for the task, running through all of the motions in his mind before performing them in reality. He preferred to start by visualizing the rune in his mind, as it was the easiest part. Next mana was guided into the rune while he made crisp motions with his hand to draw it. Once it was completed he spoke the trigger word, ìl-Fàsça­­, and imagined the boot lifting off of the table.

He could almost see the lines of force rippling from his mind to the boot as it floated gently towards him. Elated he watched it hover in the air for several seconds until it dropped. The sudden backlash of the spell forcibly ending caused Ashur fell to the ground pain. A thin trail of blood dripped from his nose and made soft sounds as it struck upon the wooden floor. His head throbbed, but once he could think straight again the excitement overwhelmed everything else.

The child stumbled from the room, looking for his father while screaming, “Da, I did it!”

** (that line is like a page break / **** that sometimes divides chapters)**

Time seemed like an eternity and every day brought a new adventure. With all the fantastic things in the world, Ashur didn’t understand why grownups were so serious all the time. How they could ignore the wonders happing all around them was a mystery to him. Like how the sky was so blue. and how tiny birds would drift along through it like fish in a giant floating ocean. Bugs of almost every sort were interesting, especially if they could be caught for close inspection. Even something as simple as the ground they walked held its own secrets, especially when it rained and turned the dirt all goopy. Even though the adults seemed to hate it, Ashur loved the rain. It seemed to refresh and revitalize him, and it also allowed him to be surrounded by his favorite substance, mud.

You could do so many things with it. You could jump in it, skid through it, draw with it, and make it into pies. Even after he had been forbidden to roll around in it, it still seemed to hold unlimited possibilities. You could almost always find some, and even if it wasn’t you could always just go make some with only minimal effort. The boy was sure that it was one of the most useful substances in all of creation. And for the past year, Ashur had spent every moment of his free time meditating, practicing, and honing his magic with that wondrously gritty mud.

After casting the spell became second nature, the boy’s fascination with mud became more apparent to anyone watching. Instead of using his hands to play with the dirty goop, he used his mind instead. Weeks of study in the kitchen turned into a year of play in the backyard. Although the book said it would only pull objects to him, the spell was actually quite versatile. He dug mud moats, built mud castles, and molded mud statues with it. None of his creations were ever very detailed, and it was difficult to tell a regular pile of mud from one of his castles, but lost in his imagination the boy defended the bastions from many evil hordes with his supreme mastery of magic.

The boy quickly learned to cut off the flow of mana before his tiny pool went empty. As long as there was a smidgen left of mana inside him, he felt no ill effects from casting, but when if he ran out of mana and attempted to draw more from the empty pool, he would get a massive headache or even pass out. It was something he quickly learned to avoid at all costs.

As Ashur played with his spell time passed. When the time had come for the man and boy to return to the Mage’s Guild, both were far more comfortable with the upcoming meeting. His mastery of the spell was clear, and Ashur intended to prove himself to the guild. He was a mage, and the guild was where he belonged. His father seemed happy as well, if a bit tense. He had told his son repeatedly not to, “muck things up,” but the normal derision in his voice was tinged with pride.

Having an appointment this time, the wait in the foyer was much shorter. Soon another immaculately dressed, acne-ridden apprentice gathered them up and led them back to the room with three chairs.

Ashur had been expecting Poupon, and was surprised when a different wizened old man entered the room. His face was etched and creased with age, and a wispy white beard trailed down off of his face to end near his belt line. His robes were as a light brown with green filigree, and even though they were as magnificent as Poupon’s, its elegance was far more subtle. The man was thin and tall, and basically matched every tale of fantastical Archmages that Ashur had ever heard. After sitting the man gave a warm smile and made his introduction.

“Greetings, I am Professor Rundil. I oversee the apprentice program here at the tower. I am glad to see you back here for your evaluation. It is always troubling if we have to track down a wayward mana user.” His grin removed most of the edge out of it, but the not so subtle threat lingered in the air.

“Thank ya, milord, I am Adrian, a cobbler, and this is my son Ashur,” answered the cobbler. “The boy has studied very hard since we were last here. I expect ya’ll be impressed with what he can do. Do ya mind me askin’ what ya mean by evaluation?”

“Hmm, I am no lord, but I am one three Master Mages in the city, so the title master or even professor will do fine. It’s usually merely a formality, but I’ll be testing your son to see what he’s suitable for. His mana marks were a little low when he was first seen, but even so we have need of every mana user in the kingdom. Someone must do little things, not everyone is born to be an Archmage after all.”

“Now I understand that he was too young to be imprinted when he first came in. It happens sometimes, and it’s not a big deal. Besides, learning spells the old way if good for one’s character. It’s also good practice for when you’re running out of soulspace. The more you know of a spell or skill beforehand, the less soulspace it takes to imprint it.

“We can even fix his small mana pool if needed. We can just feed him anima potions and have him focus on imprinting the mana attribute first. Worst case scenario, he becomes a mana battery to recharge enchanted items. That job is boring but very well paying, and he’ll live a great life.”

Professor Rundil pulled two metal bars from a pocket that should have been too small to hold them and sat them on the table. He continued, “Well, let’s see how you’re doing. These bars weigh a half stone, and full stone respectively. Cast your spell and raise the smaller one please. No need to pull it to you, just lifting it is fine.”

Going smoothly through the motions and while speaking, ìl-Fàsça­­, Ashur levitated the half stone weight and then set it gently back down.

“Very good. Nice pronunciation, solid control. Again now, lift the larger stone.”

Again, Ashur cast Grasping Hand and raised the bar up and down.

“Good, good. Here try them together.” Shortly later, the stacked weights lifted and set back down, although Ashur voice was quivering with the effort.

“Fantastic. Better than most can manage. Not every can manage to put the extra mana into the spell to make it perform better, let alone tripling the base cost. Now, meditate and gather a full pool of mana. How long will it take you? I am busy, so I’ll just return when you’re full.”

“It shouldn’t be but around 20 minutes, sir.” Ashur stated.

“Hmm,” the professor looked oddly at the boy. “That’s shorter than normal, I’ll wait then.”

The intense looks he was receiving from the master mage were distracting, but after a few minutes Ashur was able to find his breathing rhythm and sink into meditation. Ashur was all ways trying to improve, and he did so this time by attempting to breathe in and absorb the room’s mana faster than ever. Just short of the twenty minute mark, Ashur stood up and nodded to the master.

“Now I want you to have a full mana pool for this, are you honestly telling me yours is full? Don’t lie to me boy. You won’t impress me that way.” Rundil’s formerly cheerful voice was now sounding quite harsh.

“Um…ya…yes, professor” Ashur stuttered at the sudden challenge, “it’s full.”

“Very well then,” The professor produced a thin, rod shaped crystal the length of the child’s forearm from his robes. “This is a mana gauge. We will be able to tell how much mana you have by using it. Just hold it, and push your entire pool into it, like it’s a rune. It’s not difficult. No holding back now.”

Ashur held the stick and did as asked. Only the very bottom portion glowed as he handed it back to a suddenly angry looking Rundil.

“I told you not to lie to me child.” Rundil’s robed form seemed to grow in height as he stood and reprimanded the child. “I needed you to have a full mana pool so that I could judge your potential, and yet you only put 17 mana into the reader.”

Rundil looked at Adrian next, as if he was going to yell at him for raising such a deceitful son. Before he could start, Ashur managed to sputter out a denial, “But…but… I didn’t lie.”

Rundil continued to glare for a moment before snapping his fingers. The noise far louder than it should have been, like two boulders crashing together. An apprentice mage ran into the room at the apparent summons and bowed to professor.

“Fetch me the nearest diviner who can read a pool. I don’t care who it is, hurry now.” The professor ordered and the apprentice took off at a sprint. He returned with slightly older blond haired youth in tow. The pair were both sweating and breathing heavily from running so quickly. Apparently when the headmaster told someone to hurry, he meant it.

The newcomer, who was wearing a yellow robe embroidered with an orb, gathered his breath and bowed to Rundil, saying “Master,” and awaited direction.

“Feel this child’s pool and tell me if it’s empty,” ordered the Professor.

The young man reached out to Ashur and covered his forehead with his hand. He closed his eyes for a moment, and he mumbled, “Inspect Person.”

Ashur shivered at the sudden chill seeping into his skull, but did not pull away. The diviner then nodded to Rundil, saying “It is, master.”

“Alright boy, you have twenty minutes. Fill it up.”

Even though he was shaking under the pressure, Ashur still managed to regenerate his mana in the allotted time. After he stood up, but before he spoke, the old mage ordered the diviner to check again.

A few moments later the yellow robed man said in a surprised voice, “It is full master, but it’s tiny.”

“Hmm.” The master seemed to be settling down, and handed the mana gauge to Ashur. “You know what to do.”

Ashur quickly filled up the rod with the entirety of his pool before handing it back.

“Still 17, thats….” Rundil stopped and looked thoughtful. Silence loomed over the room like a dark cloud’s shadow until the master spoke again. “Looks like you’re only made out to be a battery boy. Is your anima full? Let’s get you imprinted with your spell and some base mana, and then we’ll send you home until we figure out what to do with you.”

Anima was the accumulation of life experience that built up in a person. It gathered in one’s soul as long as there was empty soulspace. Adrian had taught the boy how to look inwards, to feel his soul at an early age. It was a simple thing that everyone could do instinctually. Since Ashur had never been imprinted, it was currently full from his childhood of learning and playing.

“Imprint Spell: Grasping Hand,” Rundil said, but nothing happened. The mage shook his head and said “That doesn’t make any sense, let’s try again Imprint Attribute: Mana.

“It wouldn’t take again. Ashur, to be honest I’ve never seen anything like this, but there is only one thing it could be. Let me explain a couple of things because you seem like a good kid, but I am afraid it is all bad news.” A casual wave of his hand dismissed the two fidgeting apprentices and Rundil continued.

“I am going to need to give you a little background first. Do you know the difference between a wizard or a warlock and a mage?” Rundil asked.

“No sir,” the boy answered.

“They are all made, not born like a mage. Take for example wizards. Starting at about your age, they go to school and learn about mathematics, biology, physics, mana types and compatibilities, and everything else they can. After a decade of study, using regents and other aids they can cast cantrips, the most basic of spells. You see, they use Will to gather mana from the world around them, and then store it in some form, either in single use regents like preserved frogs eyes, or in a more permanent storage device, like properly prepared jewels and beast cores. All of that effort is needed to enable their Will covert external mana into a proper spell.

“Warlocks are similar, except they make pacts with nefarious sources, usually demons, for an outside source of mana. Shamans, witches, wizards and every other caster in existence utilize external mana of some sort.

“Only mages and the gifted are born with the natural ability to store mana within. It is called inherent mana. It can be used to cast any number of spells quite simply, far easier than any other caster, but the drawback is that we are limited by our mana pool.

“Unlike wizards, mages do not need to understand every little thing about the world, and this allows for spells to be learned with far less effort, or even imprinted with a minimal amount of soulspace being used.”

“This simplicity comes with what is usually a negligible disadvantage for mages, in that every single one of our spells has a fixed initial cost. If you do not have the minimum mana for the spell, it will backlash. Depending on the difficulty of the spell this can severely harm or even kill the caster.”

“I am sure doing your practice you have overdrawn yourself. What happened when you did?” Rundil asked.

“Sometimes I would pass out, other times I would get a headache or nosebleed.” Ashur answered.

“And that is from overdrawing a spell with an initial cost of only ten mana. In days past, masters and students made their best guess on when someone was ready to cast a more powerful spell, but there were still occasional, more serious accident. In order to prevent this, we developed a way to quantify mana pools using numbers, and created this gauge to test it.” Rundil said waving the indicated rod.

“Your spell, like almost every beginner spell in each affinity, costs around 10 mana to cast. The more you study, practice and understand a spell the less that cost becomes. We generally call these small cantrips ‘minor’ spells. The next level starts at around 50 mana per spell. To cast any of those ‘lesser’ spells for the first time, you must have the baseline mana cost. Trying to cast a lesser spell without the required mana probably wouldn’t kill you, but it will be much worse than what you have already experienced. The mana requirements for spells only go upwards through spell tiers, and a miscast can quickly become lethal.

“Now your control over the cantrip Grasping Hand is beyond most Greater Mages, and even some Masters. Such ability can only be demonstrated after completely understanding a spell, something that most don’t bother with since it is far easier to simply imprint them. To lift the weights you did earlier generally should have cost around 60-75 for an imprinted caster. To only use 17 to do so…. well calling it amazing doesn’t even do it justice.

“But child your pool is as small as I have ever seen, and that’s not even the biggest problem. The greatest issue is your soul. You’ve got what we call a stunted soul. It’s nothing that will affect you otherwise, but it prevents you from being imprinted with spells, skills or attributes. It’s very rare, to the point where this is the first time I’ve ever seen it in person.

“So even if we dumped a ton of resources into you, anima potions and the like, we couldn’t even raise you to a lesser mage. Even training you to become a spellsword would be pointless. Cantrips are worthless in a battle, and since you can’t imprint attributes, you couldn’t stand up to the weakest of fighters.”

“Mana pools enlarge at different rates, and can grow from practice, but you’re out of luck there as well. From the fact that your pool hasn’t grown noticeably over the last year, I can tell that you have what is called a steady pool. Again, it’s extremely rare but not completely unheard of. It won’t grow from effort like a normal pool, only from time. They grow at a rate of around ten percent of your base pool a year, and usually stops sometime in your forties or fifties. The steady pool is generally seen as a great blessing, possessed by some of the most powerful Archmages in history. Imagine a pool that doubled in size every ten years!

“Your little pool would need to thirty years to be of any use to us though,” Rundil paused, and sighed again as he looked at the shaking boy. “Ashur although you are talented, you have no potential. There is no place for you right now in the Mage’s Guild.”