35 – Sweet Fruit

Anaster’s book lay in my lap again.

When I brushed the cover open, the familiar tangle of lines on the first page greeted me. Actually, this looks a bit different…

Instead of the five, fingerprint-sized empty spaces, there was only one in the page’s center. It was just like when I first opened the book.

A bit puzzled at what changed, I pressed my right thumb to the page. And felt something similar to a static discharge jolt through the digit.

Ow, what the hell?!

Studying the page closer, there were more minor differences that didn’t immediately catch the eye. But the only spot that could reasonably fit a finger was in the center. And it was sized just right for a thumb. So, what was that?

Then, I had a realization. First the right thumb, then the page shifted. Now, after the full five fingers of my right hand, the page shifted again. The conclusion was pretty obvious, now that I thought a bit deeper.

Instead of my still stinging right thumb, I pressed the left one into the space.

Obviously correct, based on the immediate return of that draining sensation beyond my body. But somehow localized in my finger. I could feel something inside my hand.

Are these mana channels? Is that a thing? And more importantly, is that what the book is trying to teach me?

I had a lot of time to consider these thoughts as I lay on my bed, noodle-limbs refusing to move.

I’m pretty sure there was something similar in my right hand as well. I didn’t notice it the first time, with just my thumb, but on the second go… There are clearly some sort of veins or channels or whatever the official term might be running through my hands and into my fingers.

On closer inspection, there had been the briefest moment where what I was calling a mana channel for now had flared up to my awareness in my right thumb. When I touched the page a moment ago and felt that shock. It had just been drowned out by the physical pain.

By the time I could move again, I was pretty certain this first page was intended to help me get a feel for mana in general and the mana channels in my hands and fingers in particular.

Sort of brilliant, I mused. Though of course that crazy ‘uncle’ of mine had to make it painful. Not to mention the complete lack of instructions. How long would someone from this world sit there before they try to ‘unlock’ the book with their thumb?

Probably not that long, really. Not like there was much else to do with the book than touch various parts. Still, even just a single paragraph of explanation would have been great.

My mana sense was apparently growing in acuity. The emptiness I felt was less vague than last time. I could much more clearly tell there was something intangible missing. Still not a proper sense though.

Still, it was obvious enough now that I could feel myself ever so slowly refilling. And it really was slow. Like drops of water filling up a barrel. It wasn’t an instantaneous sensation either. I had to wait a while to notice a difference, but notice I did. Interestingly, the rate was a bit faster when I breathed in, but there was some gain even when I held my breath.

More confirmation mana acts like a gas? Maybe.

For now, I was done with training. My experience last time revealed just how much worse the full five-finger drain was. The page had morphed to now show five spaces again. I’d checked. Just that this time, as expected, the arch they formed was the other way around.

So, it was time to refill, of course.

Slipping out the window was becoming a bit routine by this point. The guard patrols were even more diminished than before, due to the feast. Probably a security concern, to be honest. But equally honestly, what would a bunch of normal humans do against a serious invader?

Even leaving aside people way out of their league, like knights or mages, the pairs walking about the grounds were effectively blind beyond their immediate surroundings. A simple group of two skilled archers could pick them off from beyond vision range, since their lanterns illuminated them quite well.

With good shots, no alarm would be called. Then the attackers would be free to do whatever they wanted. Obviously the bodies or spilled blood would be found by the next patrol, but those were just another two walking targets.

Such mildly concerning thoughts filled my head as I basically crashed my way through the ‘forest’ called a garden, over to the tree. Maybe if I do this enough, I’ll actually form a path? Probably not though.

Just like always, the tree dominating its self-created clearing. I was greeted by the omnipresent scent of sweet fruit and fermentation. Actually, would these fruit make a good alcohol if properly processed? Definitely an idea worth pursuing. Especially if it’ll retain some of the fruit’s mana. I licked my lips.

Then, to distract myself from the what-ifs of nice flavors, I picked up a fruit and devoured it in under a minute.

I could swear these taste better every time. More rich and full than before. I frowned a bit, before realizing why that was.

Mana. The answer was obviously mana. My nascent sense for the intangible stuff of magic was growing, as I’d already realized. And these fruit refilled my mana. Not a whole lot individually, but noticeable now.

Which raised the question whether fresh blood would also gain in flavor as I developed my magical skills. Since that, too, contained mana.

Notable, now that I paid attention to it, the blood sausage still remaining in my stomach and slowly feeding me blood didn’t gain me any mana. Not in quantities I could detect anyway. And since I could detect even the faint background gain back in my room, there was probably nothing.

Unless… no, there had to be a gain of some kind, or I wouldn’t have regained enough mana to regain body control the first time. Before I’d eaten the sausage. The sausage wasn’t the cause of that.

Also, there was a bit of a localization, for lack of a better descriptor, to my mana gain from the fruit. Not clear by any means, but my guess was that I was feeling the mana enter me through my stomach. Well, pure speculation, really. I could currently just tell there was a difference between ‘where’ the fruit’s mana came from and the other mana. The other mana being significantly amplified here compared to my room.

Here, next to the tree, I could actually feel the difference in fullness with each breath. Back in my room it had been a slow accumulation over multiple seconds of breathing that became detectable. Now it was like I was actually, noticeably breathing.

Lounging around in the ‘dense’ mana around the well, snacking on the occasional fruit, it didn’t take long for me to return to being full. Or at least for the sense of emptiness to disappear. My ability to perceive mana also went with it, or at a similar time.

Which was annoying, since I was pretty sure the goal, or one of them at least, of the book’s first page was to develop a proper mana sense. If said sense disappeared every time I was refilled, it wouldn’t be all that useful.

Sure, it would allow me to tell how close I was to exhaustion, a very useful, even critical ability for a mage. But I would not be able to detect magic if I was full-up. And keeping myself in a constant state of near-fullness would be highly annoying.

At least the fruit retained its improved flavor even now. Not that I could feel the mana entering me any more, but I assumed it might still be happening.

If I succeed at turning this into a mana-rich liquor, it’ll be rather disappointing to normal people. Sure, the fruit itself was good. Very good, even. Delicious was a descriptor that applied. But without the extra depth added by mana, it was ‘just’ tasty fruit.

Mages might fight me over it, if it’s even slightly good. The thought made me chuckle. Then my humor dimmed a bit when I imagined Anaster turning up to confiscate my hard work. Maybe I’ll just offer him some for free? Or for small favors or something. Turn him into the dragon protecting this treasured tree, like some sort of mythological tale.

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I could really see a man like that uncle enjoying a wine made from fruits like this.

Though assumptions of value were of course a bit moot since I had no idea of what other, similar or even better treasures were available.

From the way he’d talked about it, plants getting beneficial effects from proximity to a mana well wasn’t rare. I had to assume trees bearing delicious fruit wouldn’t be all too rare among the options. And based on my current understanding of how mana gathered in living beings, those fruit would probably also contain some.

So maybe my tree here wasn’t all that special, all things considered. Though it was probably at least a little unique in the exact effects. So maybe I’ll just have my own flavor of mana-wine?

If it kept my home from being overrun by alcoholic wizards, that may be a good thing. I snickered a bit at the repeated image. Especially once I added Anaster roaring at the invading mana-drunkards like the tree’s guardian dragon.

Though a dragon wasn’t correct. That man wasn’t a dragon. I knew, in my bones, that he was not one. Or in my blood rather. Neither was the duke, what scant memories Kalin had of him. No, those two were obviously not dragons. They were stags. Proud, majestic, powerful. Capricious, in Anaster’s case. Powerful nonetheless.

I frowned at this sudden instinct. Was this something to do with the Steelheart family? If I had this instinctual knowledge, it had to be some form of genetic effect, right?

Kalin hadn’t gone through any type of ritual or special training during his childhood, so that was the only likely explanation I could come up with.