For hours, Dallion kept on trying to create magic strands. He had changed the approach dozens of times, yet each time he thought he was on the verge of a breakthrough, nothing came out. Several times he tried combining it with other skills, only to find they made the task more complicated. The awakening markers were of no help, either. Ideal for symbol creation—and one might assume actual spellcrafting—they didn’t provide any clues on using natural magic.

“Give it time,” the water beneath Dallion’s vibrated. “Like everything else, it’s a trick. Once you figure it out, things will become much easier.”

“It would help if you give me some hints.”

Dallion tried pulling the magic out of his finger. The process required nearly no effort, allowing him to create a thread the size of a string. It was a lot better than anything he’d achieved so far, but still far from the desired width.

Am I getting close? Dallion wondered. Or am I deluding myself?

Up till now, he hadn’t focused on how mages cast their spells. All that he’d seen were finger movements and symbols appearing. Not once, though, had he paid attention to the way the magic threads emerged.

Closing his eyes, Dallion went through everything he knew so far. Based on the way he’d seen furies and nymphs control natural magic, it had to be done quickly and seamlessly. Using his current way of pushing it out was too inefficient. Even Palag, his instructor, had said that in magic the trick was pulling not pushing. However, no one had used both hands to do so.

Am I overthinking things again? he asked.

Without a doubt, Nil replied. But you’re on the right track. Or at least on a road that might lead to the right track.

Another non-answer, but at least an encouraging one. Knowing the old echo, this was short of outright praise. If pulling was on the right track, the only thing left to solve was to find the method to do it properly.

Dallion had often been told that in this world, reality was different from preconceived perceptions. Most of the time, it was he himself preventing himself from progressing forward. Since magic was a special trait, what if that was literally the case? So far, Dallion had assumed that magic was within people and they had to force it out in order to create spells and symbols. What if it was the opposite? The magic could well be a free force and it was objects that kept it locked within. If that were the case, all he had to do was stop stopping it from—

Thousands of threads streamed out of Dallion’s entire body. The mere thought had opened the floodgates causing it to rush out. For a fraction of a second Dallion was thrilled; he had finally uncovered the solution. Then the harsh realization came: he had no idea how to stop it.

He felt the warmth flee his body, leaving him cold and empty. Out of desperation, he tried to grab the fleeing magic or block it with his hands, but that only made his magic leak faster.

“It’s alright,” the surrounding water said, rising up to wrap him like a warm blanket. “Don’t be afraid.”

As soothing as it was, Dallion wasn’t able to stop his panic—the irrational fear of losing something he couldn’t do without. His vision blurred as everything around him turned purple. Moments later, the purple turned to black.

You really outdid yourself this time, a voice said, one that he hadn’t heard in a while. Always jumping from one extreme to the next.

“She told me…” Dallion’s words echoed around him. “She told me this was the way.”

And she was right. This is the way if you’re a nymph. You must pay more attention to such things. Your time of innocence is over. From her on I won’t be able to protect you.

“Protect me? Who are you?”

You should have asked that question a dozen levels ago. Take care, Dal. I hope we’ll be able to speak again in the future.

Dallion opened his eyes. He was floating in a sphere of water just about the sea surface. There was no sign of the garden. Two figures were standing nearby. Even through the distortion, Dallion recognized Harp and Onda. For a moment, it seemed that Onda was kneeling.

“You’re awake,” the water sphere said right before pouring down into the sea. All that remained of it was a chair of water, keeping Dallion from falling. “How do you feel?”

“C-cold,” Dallion managed to say.

His hands and feet felt freezing. There was an ember of heat in his chest. Looking down, Dallion saw a small ball of magic, no larger than a pebble. Was that all that was left of his magic?

“It’s painful experiencing it for the first time.” The water vibrated as Harp approached. “You did well.”

“Did I lose my magic?”

“Yes, and no. You can’t lose anything that’s yours while in your realm. The magic left your body but also went into your body. That’s why it was important to experience it here. In any other realm, or in the real world, things would have been very different.”

“I could have died?”

“There is such a possibility.” The nymph didn’t look away, saying the truth as it was. “The Academy would have protected you, probably Galatea as well. He doesn’t like wasting followers, especially now.”

Warmth spread to Dallion’s stomach. Cautiously, he stood up, keeping a hand on the chair at all times.

“Don’t exert yourself. The magic that was dispersed into your realm is slowly making its way to you. Until all of it is back, your body will feel weaker.”

That was an understatement. Dallion felt as if he’d been run over by a truck. Seven standing was making him feel tired, not to mention slightly dizzy. Still, he refused to sit back down.

“So, that’s the trick?” he asked. “Not push the magic out of me, but manage how it’s pulled out.”

“Yes.” Harp nodded. “Then you’ll focus on controlling the amount, and finally the form. Once you’re able to do that you’ll be able to make simple enchant potions.”

Simple enchant potions? Dallion thought. After all that effort, he’d hoped for something more. Magic and spellcasting were something else. No wonder that people who had it were so arrogant. It probably took decades of non-stop learning and practice for someone to cast even the simplest spell. When Dallion had first arrived at the Academy, he thought that he’d have learned it all in less than a month. That amount of time was not enough to even become an apprentice. Even with all the advantages he had and the political support, he hadn’t even made it halfway through novice.

“How many times do I have to go through this?” he asked.

“A few.” By the sound of it, it was going to be substantially more. “It gets easier each time.”

As Dallion found out, even if that were the case, the experience remained just as painful. The closest thing he could compare it with was getting a really bad case of the flu. The cold, the shivers, the weakness, and slow recovery were an inseparable part of it all, no matter how many times he went through it.

After twenty times Dallion was able to block half the gaps, making the magic to no longer leak out of him like a sieve, but rather a bucket full of holes. The scholarly skills proved to be quite helpful, allowing him to gradually visualize the leaks within his body and work on blocking them.

Hours turned into days, then weeks. The only rest Dallion got was the time he was waiting for his magic to be restored. Hunger slowly reared its ugly head, urging him to return to the real world for a snack. Gritting his teeth, Dallion pushed on.

Three weeks later, he was able to release magic only through his fingers. Another week and he was able to control where the leaks occurred. Then and only then did he concentrate on controlling the release. As it turned out, the width of the thread wasn't the only thing that he had to focus on. Before, when he was forcefully expanding magic out of him, he was able to control the speed by which he did so. This new method required he relearn everything up till now, including the magic symbols he’d memorized.

“It’s already been two months,” Harp said as Dallion drew symbols in the air. “You don’t need to learn everything on one go.”

“But it’ll be better if I did.”

In the real world, it had been hours since he’d received the potion booklet. Here it seemed like a lifetime ago. There was no denying that his efforts had paid off. After weeks of pain and suffering, he had finally mastered the reverse method of magic, allowing him to create symbols multiple times faster than before. Unfortunately, he still was unable to create them in water.

“Potion making is a difficult art.” The nymph placed her hand on his shoulder. “You should return to the real world. You can always come back in a day or so.”

“I still haven’t learned all the symbols I knew,” Dallion lied.

The nymph smiled in response.

“Have you used magic since I found you?”

“You know I have.” Harp replied. “You’d have seen my spellcrafting skill otherwise.”

“That’s not what I meant.”

“I know, and for now, I prefer not to answer.”

“Is it something to do with your past?”

“Does it matter? Every strong guardian has a history. Every exceptional item has a strong guardian. I have been guardian of this harpsisword ever since the banishment of my race. After all that time, there are many things I regret, and more than I’ve come to regret as a sword. Knowing them won’t help you.”

Dallion differed. Knowing the history of the past always ended up being useful. If he didn’t know about the history of the dryads, he’d never have stopped the plague, or acquired the empathy trait. If he didn’t know about the Star’s past, there was a good chance he wouldn’t have defeated him.

“I’ll show you all of my magic once you defeat me,” Harp said.

“You know I’m not able to.”

“One day you will.”

Dallion considered it. The arrogant streak in him whispered that he could take her on. He had defeated the Star, after all. Thankfully, the voice of reason was strong enough to tell him not to bother. Looking at her, he had a better chance of passing his awakening trials.

“I’ve a few more symbols left,” he changed the subject. “Once I’m done, I’ll get out of here.”

The proposal was found acceptable. Harp disappeared beneath the surface, leaving Dallion to his own devices. Not wasting any time, he got back to practicing.

It was the complex symbols that caused the greatest number of problems. Most of the time, Dallion’s fear of losing his magic kicked in, making him stop the threads leaving his body before they had a chance to complete the rune. It felt like forcing himself to take a step forward when standing on the edge of a cliff, but force himself he did. Days were needed for him to reach a point at which he comfortably could create all the symbols he knew, but eventually, he got there.

“Do I get any achievements?” he asked as he sat down on the water to rest a bit.

Nothing by the sound of waves and wind replied.

“That bad?”

It might not be a good idea to agonize the Moons, dear boy. There’s nothing to be gained and plenty to be lost.

“Don’t you think it was worth an achievement?”

While a lot of progress has been shown, you haven’t actually done anything. You were able to create magic symbols before, even if in a different fashion. And you definitely haven’t created a potion yet. Or do you want an achievement for training?

“No, I don’t.” Although it would have been nice. “I just wish they’d show me if I was headed in the right direction.”

Don’t worry. They’ll be certain to let you know if you’re not.