It had been a week since Florian had begun to teach Theo’s students. Disciples, Florian mentally corrected himself. He’d made the mistake of calling them students in front of Theo the previous day, when Theo had enlightened him that these were not students, but disciples who treated him as their master. In fact, Florian had been upgraded to a “senior disciple,” whatever that was supposed to mean.

Florian walked from disciple to disciple, all of them wearing comfortable gray robes that covered their bodies from head to toe. This, too, had been an aesthetic that Theo himself had chosen. He shook his head, dispelling his frustrations. Instead, he turned to help a shorter man with greasy black hair. “What’s not working for you, Wesley?”

“Can you see that nothing’s happening?” Wesley asked, his eyes rocketing open and settling on Florian’s face.

Florian laughed. “No, but I can see that you look… maybe constipated is the right term?”

Wesley’s pale cheeks reddened. Feeling sorry for the guy, Florian quickly stopped laughing and became serious again. He sat down in front of Wesley, assuming the crisscross applesauce. “What were you visualizing?”

Wesley rolled his head around, trying to beat back the exhaustion. Meditation could be remarkably energizing, but if done wrong or for too long, Florian found, it had just the opposite effect. “I’m imagining the universe giving me a big hug, just like Master Theodosius said.” Wesley sighed. “But it’s been a week, and I still haven’t felt the Universe.”

Nodding sagely, Florian settled on a swift and decisive responsive. “Yeah, that’s a load of bullshit. Theo’s teaching from a level that the rest of us can’t even comprehend. It’s like a person trying to teach an ant to use a computer. It would never work, not even if the ant was smart enough to follow along.”

“Okay, so then what did you do?” Wesley asked, leaning in with great interest. A few of the disciples around them had caught wind of the conversation, and many of them also leaned towards Florian. It vaguely reminded him of a field of curious-looking sunflowers angling themselves towards the sun.

“Imagining the universe as some massive construct isn’t going to help you. Drinking a well’s worth of water is more likely to kill you than hydrate you. In this case, you’re lucky the universe isn’t so cooperative,” Florian smiled. “Instead, I tried to sense the universe around me, feeling for what I’ve come to call mana.”

“Mana?!” Wesley exclaimed. “Like the one in the video games?”

“Well, I’m pretty sure Theo’s got a fancy name for it, but it fits the bill. Either way, you imagine resonating with the fragments of the universe that are in the air around you, because everything is invariably a part of the universe. I prefer breathing them in and then imagining these bits of mana cycling through my body before coming back out as I breathe out.”

That knowledge sent a wave of excitement through the disciples, many of whom still haven’t gotten a feel for the Universe. There was no way for them to grow their strength if they couldn’t feel it. A few toward the front of the room where either Theo had a large, wooden desk were different, though. Ever since Florian had set foot in the room, they’d been able to fall deep in meditation. They could feel the mana.

If Florian had to guess, he’d assume that Theo had helped them much as he had once helped Florian. He wondered if Theo had a reason for not doing that for all his students. Maybe it took a lot out of him, Florian reasoned.

Satisfied that all of his charges would be busy trying to apply what Florian had said moments ago, Florian figured that it was a perfect time to work on his own meditation. He had refrained from doing so until now, worried that Theo would make a surprise visit and void their deal, but that was seeming less and less likely. If he couldn’t hunt Hellwolves, then he’d meditate.

He breathed. The mana entered his lungs like a whirlwind, flooding his body as he took it on a trip throughout his body. The little blue flecks energized him, raising his spirits and causing him to meditate with even greater focus. It was hard to keep that focus as soon as the mana left his nose.

All of the mana he could imagine, that he could see around him, was floating around where he knew his students to be sitting. Near the front of the room, where the mana grew dim, Florian sensed those little bits of mana enveloping those students, creating human-shaped blue figures in his vision.

His imagination was running wild, it seemed. But the thought, well, got him thinking. There was no way that he’d just imagine something like this for no reason. All of his imagining had been to making understanding the universe easier. But this, it didn’t seem like it was a figment of his imagination.

No, either the mana that he saw was the true way the universe manifested itself, or he had imagined those blue flecks enough that they had just translated to help him make sense of what was going on in the room. Florian massaged his neck. This would be food for thought. But later. Florian had to return to his meditation.

An hour later, Florian stood back up, nursing the mother of all headaches. If only magic didn’t have to come with consequences. He looked around the room, finding that all of the students that had listened to him were still focused, their eyes squeezed shut as they felt for something they instinctively felt shouldn’t be there.

The six in the front were laying on the ground, chatting about something. Florian figured that they had finished their meditations at some point before him, and now that they were tapped out, there was nothing really more for them to do. His help not needed anywhere, Florian walked over to the window that overlooked the moat. The sun was setting, setting the water ablaze with pinks and oranges. It was a fantastic view, and one of the major perks that came with teaching a class on the third and highest floor of Leeds’ keep.

“Alright everyone, that’s it for today. Pick yourselves up and go home. Make sure not to be late for tomorrow or you’ll hear it from Theo,” Florian announced, watching as a tired mass of people made an exodus out of the room. Wesley was among the last to leave, his eyelids hanging heavily. The man was a hard worker. Florian would have to see to it that he spoke more with him; after all, it was what he was “paid” to do.

He wished that he could go back to the barracks himself, but he still had a quick pitstop to make. Navigating the mass of tents that seemed to shuffle about every single day, Florian made his way to yet another of the only buildings within the fortifications: the smithy.

“Thomas!” Florian yelled at the top of his lungs, trying to be heard over the loud clangs of metal on metal. They didn’t stop, so he tried again a few more times.

Suddenly graced with silence, Florian waited for Thomas to make his appearance. And he did in barely a moment, almost as if he had been waiting for him. For a man with the physique of a mountain, he moved quickly. “Here to pick up your mace?”

“You know I am, Thomas,” Florian chuckled, holding out a pound of salted Hellwolf meat. The smith looked at the bag with obvious hunger, the smell emanating from it proof enough of its contents. The goods inspired the man to ever greater haste, and Florian watched as Thomas adopted a sprinter’s form and sped off into the forge to look for Bludgeon.

Thomas carried Bludgeon back to him in a dirty rag, revealing the weapon to Florian when he returned to the counter. “Is this good enough?” he asked. Florian inspected Bludgeon, seeing that all of its spikes had been straightened out or replaced, with increased reinforcement done to them to make them even more durable. All of the bends in Bludgeon’s length had also disappeared. It was almost a brand new weapon. Florian was impressed; it had taken the smith only a day to do this for him, and while the express order costed him in meat, it had been worth every penny.

Leaving the meat behind for the eager smith, Florian left for the barracks. After all, Jones had never told him where he could stay, and he had never forbidden Florian from using his days off to guard the castle.

Florian was hunting tomorrow, and he had a good feeling about it. Just how much meat could he collect with Bludgeon? He had to guess it was a lot. Whistling to himself, Florian nearly skipped all the way back to the barracks, the sun setting behind him.