30 – Mana

As much as I just wanted to pass out for a few hours, sleep wouldn’t come.

I laid in my bed for what felt like hours, eyes shut. Even when I managed to tune out all the various sounds and scents my enhanced senses afforded me, I still remained unwillingly awake.

Though quite nice at first, prolonged contact with the silken sheets grated on my nerves after a while. Tossing and turning to find better positions to lie in didn’t help much.

While I hadn’t been an insomniac in my past life, the sleepless nights – whether willingly or driven by circumstance – weren’t pleasant in my memory.

If I was denied the sweet embrace of rest, I might go insane at some point. The human mind wasn’t really made to be awake for days on end. Maybe that had changed with my transformation, but that didn’t rid me of my mental exhaustion.

Worst of all, I knew I could still sleep! After being ‘rescued’ by Mia on that first day, I had actually slept for a few blissful hours. So unless my continued strengthening ‘fixed’ that, I might be able to get some shut-eye… eventually.

Finally, I couldn’t take it any longer and decided to stop trying. It was clear sleep wasn’t for me. At least not on this night. I could only hope that wasn’t a permanent condition.

Sitting up in bed, I pulled out the perfect distraction from my worries – actual magic!

Now that the threat of imminent death was dealt with, I allowed myself a giddy moment at the thought. Magic is actually real here! Grabbing the thin but heavy booklet from its spot on my desk, I sat with my back to the bed’s headboard.

Let’s do this! If I’m forced to be awake, might as well be immersed in something interesting.

The cover felt, fitting its silver luster, like smooth metal. It was just as bendable as a thin leather binding though. The booklet’s outside was completely unadorned.

With great expectations only barely held back by my rational mind trying to prevent disappointment, I popped the cover open.

The first page surprisingly also felt like metal to the touch. But closer inspection showed what looked almost like woven fibers? Did that crazy guy weave ‘paper’ out of hair-thin metal threads? No wonder he thinks it’ll be hard to damage.

Inside, the cover was just as plain as outside. On the page however, there was a twisting pattern of countless entwined lines. These also appeared to be metal stitched into the ‘paper’. Or melted on? It looked like both methods were used for different parts.

There were no words to read here, so I turned the page. Or tried to, anyway.

Despite feeling like they were thinner than normal paper and at least as flexible, the pages refused to budge. Aside from the cover, the rest of the little book might as well have been a singular block of bendable metal.

Well, okay then.

Assuming this wasn’t an elaborate prank by my ‘dear uncle’, I focused on the only thing available to me. Inspecting the pattern on the first page.

Surrounded by the lines making up this pattern were numerous empty spaces. These came in lots of different shapes and sizes, from various polygons to circles or thin slits.

Near the page’s center lay a longish oval. Since I was looking for some kind of trick or puzzle, I quickly noticed this particular space due to its unusual size and prominent position. It’s about the size and shape of a thumb-print…

Feeling simultaneously curious and a little foolish, I extended my digit to align with the space. This reminded me a lot of unlocking a phone with my fingerprint on Earth and I was wondering if that was stupid on my part or not. Well, no harm in trying.

Lightly brushing the page didn’t do anything, so I firmly pressed my right thumb’s pad into the space. For another short moment, I thought my idea was a dud, but then something happened.

I gasped at the combined sensation.

The prick on my finger barely registered over what felt like a bite at my being. A profound sense of weakness filled my limbs and I was suddenly glad I didn’t decide to try this standing at my desk when I fell over sideways onto my bed. All my extremities apparently decided it was a great time to turn to jelly and stop following commands.

It was a bit hard to estimate time, lying sprawled on my bed staring across the room. My eyelids and even eye muscles themselves were nearly as leaden as the rest of my body. I did still blink occasionally, but reopening my eyes was a chore.

If I had normal insomnia, this would probably be a great sleeping aid. My brain, like the rest of my body, moved like it was swimming through molasses.

What could only be minutes later, feeling returned to my limbs. It was very similar, in a way, to when the limbs ‘went to sleep’ due to bad posture. I could control them, but they were unresponsive and tingly when proper circulation resumed. Not that my blood flow had been disturbed. The tingling in my entire body didn’t care about such details.

Sitting back up, I inspected both my thumb and the page. There was no sign of anything off about my hand. The page, however, had changed a little.

Where previously the thumb-print sized oval had been near the center, it had now moved to the left. The shifting of lines making up the pattern had revealed new, similarly shaped ovals of slightly smaller size.

Of course, there were four of these, spread out in an arch with the original, fifth one, on the left-most end. A little further down than the rest of them.

At a glance, I had a pretty good hunch what I was supposed to do. It was obviously asking me to touch all the fingertips of my right hand to the page. The problem was, if just bringing my thumb by itself in contact with whatever effect this was knocked me flat like that for minutes, what would happen with my entire hand?

Instead of potentially making myself a jelly for the next hour, I pondered what had actually happened. I had definitely felt a bit of a sting on my physical thumb. There were just no traces left. It might be that the page stabbed me and then absorbed a drop of blood. My healing would close such a minor puncture before I could even turn the finger around, not to mention after lying around for minutes.

But even if that was the case, the physical ‘attack’ had barely been important.

Much more critical was this other way I was what? Damaged? Drained?

I couldn’t detect any traces of whatever it was. Even though I had quite clearly felt that initial moment. Before the sudden onset of noodle-limbs.

Though there are hints of tiredness remaining… Distinct from the mental exhaustion caused by dealing with all the events of the past days.

This ‘tiredness’ felt more like an emptiness. But different from hunger. It was barely comparable to physical sensations at all, really.

Hypothesis – this book somehow impacted my mana or something related to it.

It made sense. I didn’t have a sense for detecting mana, as far as I knew. To use magic, I’d presumably need to be able to feel mana. So a book specifically designed to teach magic might use methods to grow an awareness of the student’s mana. If that is what’s going on.

If that idea was correct, it followed that my unplanned impression of a puppet with its strings cut had something to do with my mana. Most likely explanation, based on the resulting ‘emptiness’, was a lack of it.

Does mana exhaustion cause physical exhaustion? Or is it some kind of mental effect from a sensation my brain can’t handle?

Assuming it was a result of lacking mana due to the book draining me, it was safe to assume I’d not have a good time repeating the experience so quickly.

The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

I didn’t have an idea of other negative effects of low mana. Especially what would happen if the book decided to draw more from me than I had. If that wasn’t what had already happened before. It could probably be worse.

With a sigh of regret, I closed the book.

Looking down at the blank silver cover, I considered my next move.

My study of magic wasn’t something I wanted to delay. Not that I was likely to have any major success in a few days, but starting later would mean getting results even later as well.

A quick peek past the curtains revealed it was still night. So far the horizon wasn’t brightening with approaching dawn, so I had time. Still, it was later than last time I went on a nighttime outing.

No time to waste then. I was halfway out the window before I realized a dangerous error. Potentially fatal even.

My plan had been to visit that fruit tree with the suspected mana well location. Based on everything Anaster had said, I considered it likely that my presence there would help replenish my mana. I’d wanted to test the book again out there.

But what if I miscalculated? What if the mana well wasn’t able to restore me quickly, or required active effort I wasn’t yet trained in or something? What if, in my haste, I immobilized myself out in the greenery?

Worst-case scenario, I might still be lying there when dawn came. The tree’s canopy, though dense, wasn’t going to keep all the light away from me. In other words, I was mere minutes away from potentially killing myself over a simple mistake.