Chương 40: 39 – Talks on Mana

It felt like it had been an eternity since I'd seen my lab. I wished it had been longer. The benches had been turned over, and many of the containers and tables that I'd spent half a lifetime convincing the Carpenters to build for me had been smashed. Experiments lay scattered everywhere. Whatever paper I'd managed to scrounge up for notes had been torn and shredded, or worse, burned. Getting everything back in order would take weeks, if not months, and some of the notes I'd lost were priceless.

Concrete was still just a pipe dream. Goblins and war trolls had been here, and they had done what rift monsters do. Any levity I'd had on the walk out here was sapped away by the sight of my lab in ruins.

"We… should've gone to the pepper pits," I said as I picked up a loose scrap of paper.

"It would hurt less than this." I could tell Mom wanted to make a joke. Speak for yourself or something like that, but she glanced at me, and the humor died in her throat. I felt like I'd lost… everything. Well. No. I hadn't. I hadn't lost anything that wasn't replaceable yet, but this hurt. Mom rolled a trunk over with her foot, and the lid fell off. There was hardly anything inside.

I'd spent hours gathering different raw materials from the plains and from requests to Korlotom to bring me back specific types of wood. Dried leaves, reeds from the lake, seashells that I'd just thought were pretty, and so much more. I hadn't even known what I'd wanted to try making with most of it. All just… trash now. I turned over a piece of tattered paper in my hand. I recognized it. Paper was scarce, so I'd used every square inch of each page I could get my hands on.

This particular page had notes about what I might use to make casting nails easier, and how that might one day lead to making functioning screws. Everything worked so much better when it could all be held together tightly.

"I'm sorry, Mera," Mom said softly.

"It's not your fault. It just… it is what it is, I guess. We're almost all okay, and that's something to be thankful for. But… fuck, I didn't think this would hurt so much." There was the stump where Hadra liked to sit when she visited me out here. It had an axe planted in it now, and scars as if the monsters had thought it was something they could kill. Hanging in tatters was the rope we used to climb when my lab was less a lab and more of a playground.

"I can't help but think that if we'd put the pepper pit here at your lab, at least everything would've been protected," Mom said. Our field had fortunately been one of the first harvested for the year. Footprints didn't hurt soil much, and the rift monsters had avoided the pepper pits the same as any sane person would've. My lab, though, was just inside the perimeter, and there had been a lot of attempts to breach the patrols.

Even though most of them had been successfully repelled, it seemed at least one battle had reached the edge of our farm.

"I wouldn't be able to do anything with that smell hanging over everything. It wouldn't have made any sense," I said.

"If I could see my own need, maybe I could've predicted this?"

"You think your most pressing need would be finding a way to protect your lab?" Mom asked in that tone she got when she was teaching me something. I glared at her.

"No! Let me vent! This… this was my place, you know? Where I went to relax. Reflect. Think about stuff."

"Your dreams of going off on adventures?" Mom asked. I grinned.

"Yeah."

"You probably could go with Hadra to Denarla, you know," Mom said.

"Your talent requires that you get to know people, and you don't know anyone in the city. You would likely be safe. They might even make you a real lab there. Not just this open patch of land." I scowled.

"How did you even know I'd decided not to? Easy enough to let the guard captain know I'm the dreamer. Would be out of our hands after that." Mom sighed.

"I've seen the way you've been looking at Hadra like she's going to die any day. I know you decided not to go. I approve, for what it's worth, but I know what it's like to let friends go." I sighed and kicked the blunt axe off the stump before sitting down on the wood.

"It was always my dream, you know? I was the one who wanted to go out and see the world! Hadra… she was reluctant to tag along, even just in my stories! Now, somehow, she's the one going to Denarla."

"Are you jealous?" Mom asked.

"That's the thing…" I said.

"I'm not. I'm worried for her. I'm going to miss her so fucking much, but…" I trailed off. Thinking of the village, of everyone I'd be leaving behind. Of… well… I tensed, feeling eyes on me, and turned to find Mom grinning knowingly.

"Shut up. At least I never courted an asshole general."

"I never courted the General, or his brother," she scowled, then gave a shudder that made me think I'd touched a nerve.

"How old do you think I am? That man has at least two decades on me!" I shrugged.

"As far as I know, you're just a small-town farmer! How else would you know a big fancy-pants general? Wanna enlighten me?" She scowled, and I smiled like I'd won a fight. Unfortunately, a simple glance around the open area was enough to keep my mood sour. Support the creativity of authors by visiting the original site for this novel and more.

"In a moment," Mom said.

"First things first. The Mana Pool skill."

"You're finally going to tell me how to get it!?" She nodded.

"To be honest, its a wonder you didn't stumble upon it yourself with all the things you've gotten up to out here." I shuddered. Maybe she didn't even remember it, but I remembered how she'd reacted when she discovered I'd been out here playing with household magic too much.

"You… made it very clear that I was never supposed to let my mana pool fall below half empty. It's only been two years since you started trusting me to use it out of your sight!" She chuckled.

"That lesson stuck, did it?"

"I was scarred for life," I panned.

"Couldn't sit down for a month!"

"You're being dramatic. Besides, better that than you accidentally developing the skill before you were old enough. Poor Normuran really would hate you then."

"So… what does happen if you pick up that skill too early?" I asked.

"Is it really so dangerous?"

"Not necessarily. Picking up the Mana Pool skill when you are too young will stunt its maximum growth. You're a bigger person than you were when you were twelve, right? Think of it like that. Mana Pool is like plunging a bunch of water into a cup that's currently only got a little in it. That's the mana you gain naturally from your intelligence stat."

"That's it? You made me think it was dangerous! Like sticking a fork in an outlet!" She eyed me funny. Which made sense. At this point, I was just using english words on purpose. The levity helped distract me from my ruined surroundings.

"Uhm… Like approaching a pack of wolves intentionally!" I gave another example. She shrugged.

"It is dangerous. And you, you little rat, were bound and determined to use magic the moment you found out about it! You were going to get yourself hurt."

"How?" I asked, genuinely curious. Mom lit up. She always did when she was teaching me something, and I was an avid learner.

"It's typically related to age. When I first scolded you for it, you definitely would've been hurt, but it's likely you could've safely gained the skill when you were about sixteen or so, with no ill effects. Had you been too young, though, you might've gained more mana than your body could hold. This leads to an incredibly dangerous condition called Flooding."

"Oh!" I exclaimed.

"That boy from Potato Gully! I remember he came to see Normuran last year!"

"Ah. Yes. Conallor. Have you met him? Sweet boy," she said.

"He was super cute!" I agreed.

"Felt bad for him, though."

"He's been making regular trips back to Norman's Hut. Healers can drain off excess mana. Well. Actually, any mage with enough of a mana pool can typically take excess mana into themselves, but it's easier for healers to do. No one is quite sure why."

"So.. he unlocked Mana Pool too early?" I asked. She nodded.

"Flooding is exactly what it sounds like. Your mana stat is higher than your maximum mana. But mana isn't water. It doesn't just fall to the ground. It starts to seep into places it doesn't belong. Like your blood, or your skin."

"Where does it belong?" I asked. She smiled.

"That… is a question I asked my own teacher, many years ago. I never received a satisfactory answer. The best answer I have come up with is the soul."

"So… you have no idea?" I asked. She bopped me on the head.

"Studies have found no physical differences between mages and civilians," she said.

"There isn't an actual pool in your body anywhere. There's been enough wars that someone would've noticed."

"Will I be a better musician?" I asked, before jumping to my feet and beginning to sing.

"I… what?"

"You know? I've got more soooul!" I said, stretching out the word.

"You're… I swear sometimes its like you're telling jokes to people from another country. Gaining the Mana Pool skill gives no noticeable increase in musical talent. You little weirdo." I snickered. Mom played the best straight man to my jokes. I wish Haddy had been around to see that. She'd have giggled.

"From now on, you'll be using your mana constantly, and you'll feel drained and tired when you do so. Refilling your mana is also a primary use for ether dust."

"Everybody knows that!" I said.

"After today, I'll want you to start carrying pouches of it around. Mixing it in water can make a quick draft that can restore your mana in an emergency. It tastes terrible though." I believed it. Edra and Lupkep could make anything taste good but Norman was not excited to keep chugging those potions after the fight. Fortunately, ether dust would be very easy to gather. With the rift monsters dying left and right, there was plenty of the stuff just lying around.

"Where was I? Oh yes. I compared you to a cup with a bit of water in it, but I think I can give you a better metaphor," she said before taking her pepper pouch off her belt.

"Imagine you're an empty pepper pouch. What the Mana Pool skill is going to do is shove pepper spray inside you and stretch your limits out. The actual number is based on the intelligence and wisdom stats."

"So, the smarter you are, the more likely getting the Mana Pool skill can hurt you?" I asked.

"When you're young. There have been a few cases where sixteen-year-olds had mild flooding, but the end result for them is usually just a smaller stretch than the optimal amount. Subsequent points added to the skill increased its maximum by less than they do for those who got the skill when they were eighteen. It's also the age when improving the skill is no longer dangerous." I paused, thinking about that.

"So… does that mean lil' Connor will never be able to be a mage?" Mom wiggled her hand left and right.

"He'll almost certainly be less effective than he would've been if he'd waited. His parents aren't mages, though. This knowledge isn't very widespread."

"So… how do you know it?" I asked.

"Heat is a good place to start, and I'm going to make you a fire mage," she said, ignoring the question.

"But… what if I want to be a healer?" I asked.

"If I learn offensive magic like fire magic, will that prevent me from learning to heal later?" She hesitated.

"It… could. There have been healers who use fire magic before. If it were peacetime, I'd string Norman up by his ears and force him to teach you, even if I had to shove gold pieces down his throat. I'd have had to, because there's no way for you to learn the type of magic I specialized in before you gave me this wonderful little book."

"You didn't know fire magic at all before I made you that book?" I asked. She shook her head.

"Only the household stuff. My magic was… more esoteric, and teaching it to you here would be incredibly difficult." She walked over to a large cauldron that miraculously hadn't been turned or ruined, gesturing for me to follow her. When I approached the container, I realized that she must've set it up before this. The cauldron was filled with water.

"Begin heating the water with your household magic," she told me.

"Uhm… my entire pool of mana will never heat that much water," I said.

"That's entirely the point," she replied, before gesturing to a tea kettle on one of the overturned tables.

"Oh," I said.

"This is going to suck, isn't it?"

"You'll be emptying and refilling your mana until you gain the skill. I'm not cruel. Edra made this for me, but even her efforts are only so effective. Ether dust is not a good spice."

"Wait… that's it?" I asked.

"Just… empty and refill, and then I get the skill?"

"It's a bit more than that, but essentially," she said with a shrug.

"Why doesn't everyone have this skill then!?" She smirked.

"Goodness, I must have truly scared you back then, didn't I? You've never run out of mana before, have you?"

"Uhm… not that I can remember. Above half. Always. You were very clear…"

"Then yes, daughter. This is, indeed, going to suck." I grimaced.

"It's okay, though," she continued.

"I have something to distract you while you cast and drink. Starting with who I am… or rather, who I was." I beamed.

"Before the Rift, my name was Atrinaska Estermont, and I was the fourth child of the Duke." I could've sworn I heard a bass drum in the background. My eyes widened. My mouth hung slightly open. I was shaking. If I had a mirror, I was sure I'd see stars in my own eyes. She looked at me strangely.

"Oh my gods!" I screamed, vibrating with excitement.

"I'm a long-lost princess! Wait till I tell Haddy!" She bopped me on the head again.

"A princess who will be mucking out Stoutgruff's pen tonight. Get your head out of the clouds!"

"Aww…"