53 – Blood-work

Getting back to the manor wasn’t much more difficult than leaving.

While dawn was slowly drawing closer, it hadn’t arrived yet. Consequently, it was still just as dark out. And vaulting the palisade from inside was just as easy as the other way around.

I was much faster on the way back, my anticipation urging me into a decent running pace. Meaning I was moving faster than a human sprinter. Pleasantly cool wind whipped around me.

Compared to the palisade, the manor’s wall was actually a little more challenging from the outside due to the hill. But only a little.

A quick sweep with an extended heart sense later, I managed to sneak back to my room without incident. Before I actually climbed in through the window, I remembered the promise I’d given the bat. A short detour to the fruit tree – and accompanying shared snacks – later, I finally returned to my room proper.

Alone again for the night, I pulled out The Art of Magic, eagerly flipping it open.

Nothing was different from last time, which was in itself a change.

On the ‘Mana Control and Shaping’ page, I was greeted by the circle first again. Just like before, this one was easy. What came after was the interesting part.

Looking at the heptagon, I thought back to that time in the attic a few days ago. Controlling my mana-infused blood had been so natural I hadn’t thought much about it. Which in turn made it difficult to reproduce.

Once more I cursed instinctual ability use. Just like with the cat less than an hour earlier, I was stuck trying to work out something I’d done easily before, without much thought.

After minutes of just staring at the page, I decided I wouldn’t learn much without actual attempts. Anaster himself – or at least his book – also seemed to be based on the principle of ‘failure is the greatest teacher’, so I might as well try my best.

Also, I was pretty sure those stings I felt on failure were specially designed to help me feel and understand. Just like back with the mana sense. I hadn’t needed it much, but there had been a physical prick of pain to my fingers in addition to all the magical things going on. Which might help someone’s mind better connect the magical drain with their body.

One of the fastest ways of realizing you had a sense beyond what you were aware of would be to feel pain with it.

My first attempt didn’t do any better than last time. I’d tried to spread my mana out from the center again, but failed to actually control it. I got stung again when the circle grew beyond the heptagon’s sides.

Even with the third time it happened, I still couldn’t tell where I was hurt. It was a sort of piercing headache, but outside, somehow. Also, my worry about how reproducible the blood-mana control would be was warranted.

Not that I let the minor setback deter me. I repeated the second method from last time as well, first drawing a thin line along the heptagon’s sides before filling it in.

As I’d expected, the corners weren’t complete, so I got another set of seven small stings. But I knew that was going to happen. Counted on it, even. Somehow, the multiple simultaneous sources of pain were easier to ‘find’, for lack of a better word, than the single larger one I got otherwise.

I could swear there was something just outside my awareness. Like words on the tip of my tongue. Or – more accurately in my opinion – a thought I knew I’d forgotten, but couldn’t actually recall no matter how much I wanted to. Not a sensation I was very fond of, but it was progress. Probably.

Taking a short moment to pause and consider, I had another idea. I wasn’t sure if it would work, or whether the book would accept it as an answer, but I had to try.

My main issue was that I couldn’t quite bridge the gap between memories of manipulating mana-rich blood and actually controlling pure mana in the here and now.

So, what if I cut out one differentiating factor?

Taking a deep breath, I pricked my thumb on a claw and let a drop of blood land on the ‘paper’. Just like always, the wound closed near-instantly once I let it.

Now, there is some of my own, mana-rich blood. I just need to control it.

It was still difficult. By now it was obvious that the transformation my familiar went through was special in some way. Well, that’s obvious. I meant special in the sense of me getting increased guidance, making controlling it much easier than comparable tasks.

When I gently touched the drop resting on top of the page – the weird, woven-metal material was apparently quite hydrophobic based on the interaction – I could actually feel the mana in it.

A weird sensation, to be honest. Like there was a part of myself that was, while in contact with me, still separate. Not something I’d ever really experienced, so it was hard to visualize or put into words. Even back with the bat it had felt different than this. Or maybe I’d just not noticed back then?

Best explanation I can think of is that intuitive feeling you get of where your own limbs are, even if you can’t see them. Proprioception? Something like that. The more I thought about it, the more that made some amount of sense.

Isn’t my mana still part of me, in a way? So being able to sense where it’s at would be reasonable. And if I can sense, I’m one step closer to moving. I just have to reach out and grab-

The droplet quivered. I paused in surprise. It really was sort of like moving a limb I never knew I had. Well, nowhere near that simple, but still comparable in some ways.

With a frown of concentration, I focused my will on the blood. With some coaxing, it started to flatten out from its mostly round drop shape. A moment after I lost skin contact, my control went too. The drop snapped back into shape due to surface tension.

Notably, it wasn’t immediately when I stopped touching it. That implied contact wasn’t strictly necessary, I just didn’t know how to keep a hold without it yet. I tried again, with a similar result.

Over the next several minutes, I repeatedly shaped the single drop of blood. It wasn’t too hard to do now that I managed to figure out how, but I could tell this would require endless practice.

To continue my limb analogy, the process reminded me of moving a limb that had fallen asleep. One where I also didn’t actually know how it moved. If I couldn’t see what I was doing, I’d have had to guess what was happening.

As it was, I managed to manipulate the blood in various ways. Flatter, taller, more of a line, an oval. Basic shapes weren’t too difficult. The ones that weren’t too far from how it would behave naturally at least. I still hadn’t managed a sharp corner.

After what was probably more than half an hour – not that I was keeping track too closely – I lifted my finger off the page and smiled. Clinging to the pad of my thumb was the drop of blood. Even mild shaking didn’t cause it to fall off.

Keeping the liquid ‘glued’ to my skin was, just like the rest, rather easy once I figured it out. My next course of action was to continue my shaping exercises while also holding it like that.

Maintaining two different effects at once was much more straining, as expected. I got some flashbacks to moving while channeling mana, though not quite to that level of separation.

I could also make the drop move across my hand. That was funny to watch, like gravity had decided to suddenly switch direction or take a day off.

Then I made what I considered a possible breakthrough. I managed to shape the blood as though it had hit an invisible wall, creating a flat, straight side. It could conceivably fit snugly up against the heptagon’s boundaries.

If I could create one clean ‘cut’ like that, why not more? And what was a corner, if not the meeting point of two sides?

Unfortunately, three shaping effects at once was still too much for me. So, I dropped the adhering, instead holding the drop on top of my upturned palm.

Creating a proper corner by aligning two imaginary invisible ‘walls’ was actually hard. The liquid refused to behave as I wanted it to. Still, it was nothing good old trial and error couldn’t fix.

The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.

Some time later, I finally succeeded. I let out a sigh of relief, only then noticing I’d been holding my breath for a while during my last few attempts, when I felt close to getting it.

It still wasn’t the prettiest solution, to be honest. I had modified my ‘fake wall’ shaping to also subtly pull the blood in that direction. Combining two of these then filled in the corner properly, just like I wanted. Sadly, it also made the blood bunch up and rise higher in said corner.

Well, looking on the bright side, creating a tetrahedron or cube will be very easy with this as a base. If I ever need one of those for some reason.

Recreating my solution was much simpler than creating it the first time. I still felt it was a bodged-together method, but it was fine for now. I had plenty of time to improve later. For now, I wanted to see if I couldn’t apply this to the book.

Unfortunately, I expected the blood itself not to work due to the page’s liquid-repellent properly. Some time spent trying to force it into the ‘paper’ confirmed this suspicion. I licked the drop off my finger. Waste not, want not.

So, it was time to apply what I’d learned to pure mana. With all the time I spent shaping the blood, I actually managed to influence the mana I bled into the book even after it left my body.