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    It was difficult to call what Scarlet was doing ‘contract-negotiation’. Negotiation implied she had any ability to dictate terms. When drafting the System Contract the other party understood the medium better, knew all the precedents, and controlled the document.

    Still, Scarlet had always been an incredible negotiator.

    As they went back and forth the confidentiality clauses became much stricter. Stricter privacy meant broader information could be shared between them. He could explain more without worry and she could ask more without fear that every interaction was arming an unknown enemy with information to use against her.

    The information-sharing terms also broadened. Scarlet received more input on the learning objectives, and Tareth was given an ultimatum by the Historian. ‘Sign or leave,’.

    It was no surprise that the vague distaste the younger vulpian held for Scarlet had grown into a much more nuanced and active dislike.

    By the time the mana document settled, sealed, and vanished with a final ripple of light, Scarlet felt as though she had been through a verbal sparring match. Her head ached, but she’d managed some decent concessions.

    Scarlet looked down at the small vial still in her hand. It caught the light prettily.

    “Before we begin collaboration, I would appreciate it if you could direct me to a place where I might rest?” she said, polite in her request. “A bath or shower, and some sustenance would also be nice.”

    The Historian blinked and looked over her properly this time.

    “I would of course be happy to find accommodation on my own.” Scarlet continued, voice matter of fact. “If you could just direct me–”

    “No need,” the Historian cut her off. “It would be more convenient if you stayed in our residence for the time being.” He nodded to himself, ignoring Tareth’s agitation entirely. “Yes, yes. You will stay with us.”

    Scarlet’s brows furrowed.

    “As for rest, and recovery, I suppose I should give you the night. The better your condition, the better the results. Also,” the Historian pointed at the vial. “It’ll do you good to drink that.”

    Scarlet looked down at the vial, then up. Even with no expression, the vulpian seemed to know what she was thinking.

    He sighed. “We just signed a contract.”

    “It is not retroactive,” she stated. Scarlet lifted the vial slightly. The vial he handed her before they signed a new contract. A contract with much stronger safety guarantees.

    The Historian frowned at the questioning. Though he was less insulted than he was curious. What kind of history would make her so distrusting and paranoid.

    The vial tugged itself out of Scarlet’s hand and flew into the Historian’s.

    “This will help you recover for your training,” he said clearly. “Drink this.”

    Then the vial floated back to Scarlet, settling into her palm exactly where it had been.

    Under this new contract, if the vial contained something meant to harm her the System would smite him, or something, the details weren’t clear. What was clear was that the violator would face atomic level annihilation for such an egregious breach. So, the fact he wasn’t currently being smote indicated that the contents of the vial were safe.

    Scarlet unstopped the vial. Whatever was inside had no odour. The tonic itself was cool, and thick, and took a hard swallow to choke down.

    It moved through her with brisk efficiency. Unlike the warmth of the psionic process she was still undergoing, the effects of the tonic were less comfortable. It felt like full body pins and needles, though not unbearably so.

    The sharp ache behind her eyes eased first. Then some of the muscle tension. The grinding fatigue in her legs did not vanish, but it did feel more manageable. The entire process took maybe five minutes.

    Scarlet looked at the empty vial as the treatment worked its way through her.

    “Thank you,” she said. The Historian nodded in acknowledgement, however Scarlet’s eyes were back on the vial. “How did you do that?” She asked. “How did you float the vial?” She clarified at his confused look,

    “The mana manipulation?” Tareth gave her a confused look. To him that seemed beyond common sense. You didn’t even need a Skill to do it. The Historian silenced him with a look.

    “Yes, it was a form of Energy manipulation,” said the older vulpian. “External mana manipulation, in this case.”


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    He lifted one clawed hand and gathered mana between his fingers.

    Scarlet had felt mana before. She had sensed it in the air, in the floor markings, in the spells and constructs used around her, she’d even traced it through her own body. She could identify it and sort of interact with it, but what the Historian was doing was so much different.

    A thin thread of pale light formed between his palms. It curved, looped, and spun into a ring. The ring flattened into a disk, folded into a cube, then stretched into a delicate line that curled around the empty vial in Scarlet’s hand without touching her skin.

    The vial lifted again. More slowly this time.

    “External manipulation,” he said. “The shaping of energy outside the body. Anyone who naturally circulates mana should have the ability to manipulate it. The rest is about understanding, practice, and control.

    “Mana is generally cooperative, comparatively speaking.”

    The vial drifted down to the table where it settled so delicately it didn’t even make a sound.

    Scarlet did not look away. “What about internal circulation?” She asked her eyes on the vial.

    “Master, perhaps we should save this discussion for when the young miss is not falling asleep standing,” Tareth said, eyeing the two of them.

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