Chapter 8 - Mana (Patreon)

This is the first time I’ve come here with permission. I thought as I stared nervously in front of Beginner’s Rest. Let’s do this shit. Resolved, I stepped through the front doors.

Immediately, I was greeted with chatter, yelling, and clinking silverware. Meat, butter, and bread wafted into my nostrils. It was busy and smelled like adventure.

“This all there is?” shouted a man by a large board lining the wall by the wrap-around bar in the middle of the inn. “There’s nothing new since yesterday.”

“The only jobs on there right now are from locals,” said one of the two owners of Beginner’s Rest, Tannin. The other owner, her husband Bruno, served food across the room. “We’ll get a new batch of requests in soon. Just be patient.”

“Hard to be patient when you’ve got a grumbling belly,” mumbled the man.

“That grumbling belly knocked down four tankards of beer last night,” muttered Tannin. She started cleaning the bar, but almost as if she could feel my eyes on her, she looked up. Her brow furrowed when we made eye contact. “You snuck in again, Yennifer?”

A few eyes tilted in my direction. Most didn’t care about me. Some were annoyed, partially because I was a child and partially because I was a filthy, disgusting devil freak. I’m sure that’s how they would have described me, at least.

“I have permission,” I said excitedly. “Quintin let me. I’m here to see Jessie.” Proudly, I pointed a thumb at myself. “Guess who awakened?” I asked while my bangs covered my eyes.

“Congrats, kid,” said Bruno. He passed by me and patted the top of my head, just missing my horns. It was enough to almost give me a heart attack.

“Third floor over there,” said Tannin. She pointed upward to a door visible from down below. “She sleeps late, so knock hard.”

“Got it!” I chirped. “Thanks.”

Smiling, I crossed back to the entrance to the inn, where a set of stairs arched up to my right.  After entering the second floor, I came face-to-face with a tall, burly man with long hair and a tattoo of a broken dagger under his left eye.

I moved aside for the man to pass.

“Move, you fucking freak,” said the man. He rammed into me hard, bashing me against the railing and sending me tumbling to the ground. I felt spit hit my foot as he moved to the lower floor.

Standing, I brushed myself off, wiped the spit off me with the underside of my shoe, sighed, and walked up to the third floor.

I stopped right before Jessie’s door and gave it a knock. There were no noises when I did. I knocked again, louder.

Muffled thumping and startled crashes sounded inside the room. I craned my neck to listen but pulled back at the last moment.

Privacy is important. I told myself. I need to respect it.

After a moment, the door opened. Jessie stood in the threshold and quickly pulled the door behind her. Her brown hair was pulled into a messy ponytail, and she wore baggy, lazy clothing with sandals.

“What is…yes, Yen, my dear? What are you doing here?” Jessie’s eyes darted to my left and right. “Just you today?”

“Yes, ma’am. You see, I—”

“Oh, it’s going to be a whole conversation then. Got it,” interrupted Jesse. “Hold on. I’m starving. Have you eaten yet? Let’s eat.”

“But—”

“My treat.”

“Okay.”

Back down the stairs I went. Jessie and I ran into the man who pushed me as he came back up. He eyed me, but then his gaze drifted to Jessie, and he did nothing—not until he passed me.

“Every bitch needs an owner,” he muttered.

Suddenly, he fell.

The man slipped and smashed his face against the steps. “Ahhh! My fucking tooth!” he cried. “It’s broken!”

“Watch your step. There’s water,” said Jessie as she touched my shoulder. Her hand was damp, as were the steps the man just tripped on.

I smiled.

We settled into a table downstairs. Jessie freely ordered food. When I offered to pay, she dismissed me, telling me it was her treat. We had eggs, coffee, toast, sausage, and vegetables. It was all fresh and tasted great.

Sandy Branch was once again in the midst of its harvest season, as was the rest of the country. The farms just outside of town were bringing in their hauls for the locals, meaning food was plentiful and delicious.

Likewise, the territory around Hopeful Lake in the northern part of this country, Water’s Bastion, had started reviving after a recent civil war. It was considered the breadbasket of Zalevet. They were apparently now producing just enough agricultural products to supply most of the major cities with food, and a lot of their products were trickling into Sandy Branch with our monthly merchant caravans.

It’d be like that for a few months; then rations would become smaller again. But in the initial periods of high production, everyone in Zalevet indulged and fattened up while they could. It’s what made life worth living, and good things didn’t last forever. I remembered times a few years ago when many people in the village, including my family, went without eating for multiple days due to crop failures. Some people died. I preferred days like these.

“So…what’s up?” asked Jessie as she finished chugging water. “This is the first time we’ve talked one-on-one, isn’t it?”

“I think so,” I replied.

“It must be pretty important then.”

“It’s about the conversation we had yesterday,” I started. Brushing my fingers upward, I lifted my bangs and looked directly into Jessie’s eyes.

Jessie froze, but only for a moment. She quickly lunged forward and covered my eyes with her hands.

I stared into the sudden darkness, startled.

“Come, come,” said Jessie. She dragged me upstairs. I struggled behind her while the rest of the room stared after us.

“I-Is the girl going to be okay?” asked one of the patrons. “Should we stop her?”

“Didn’t think she’d go after a kid,” muttered another.

“It’s a devil, not a kid,” scoffed a third.

What the hell is going to happen to me?!

We arrived at Jessie’s room rather quickly. She pushed open the door with little concern for noise and pulled me inside.

“I-I’m not ready,” I uttered pathetically, confused about what was happening.

“Oh? You’re back.” A naked man stood in the middle of the room. He wore only a shirt. I didn’t recognize him, so he must have been an adventurer who’d stopped into town for work. “What’s with the devil?”

I stared below his waist. So big…

Jessie released me, grabbed the man, and tossed him out the room without a word. She quickly picked up the rest of his clothes, balled them, and threw them in his face. “I had fun,” she said roughly before slamming the door on him.

I watched in bewilderment.

“You have white eyes. They represent the very pinnacle of mana and are a sign that fate is on your side,” said Jessie as she lifted my bangs to stare into my eyes. “And you dared to show them off in public, you absolute moron.” She then shrugged her shoulders. “At least you were smart enough to wear your hair like this for now.”

“I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking,” I replied in earnest.

“Time and place,” said Jessie. “I knew you’d awakened yesterday. I saw the wrist marks under your sleeves, and you wouldn’t look anyone in the eye. But this…this is something else.” She stared blankly past me for a moment, shook her head, and held out her hand. “Hand me the contract. I’m assuming you’re here to make me your teacher.”

I nodded again, opened my codex, and handed her the contract Quintin created for me to give.

“Accepted,” said Jessie. She stuffed it into her codex, closed it, and sent it away into a glimmer of white shards flecked with blues, reds, and yellows with the flick of her wrist. She didn’t even look at the price, which was significantly less than what she probably would have charged. Quintin told me to haggle a bit, but I guess I didn’t have to. “Do your parents own any books in the home?”

“Not really.”

“Right. They’re expensive, and a codex can’t really be used to make books. Anything they would own would be cheap and mass-produced by the Pantheon’s Temples. They’re full of biased bullshit and outdated phrases.” Jessie brought her codex back and opened the pages. She plucked out three sheets and dropped them onto her bed. As soon as they hit the sheets, books warped out of each page like they were reversing themselves from being sucked into a vacuum. The actual pages melted away into particles of energy. “They’re yours. Take them. I have copies.”

My eyes widened. Carefully, I looked at the books on the bed and stared at their covers. “Thank you.” I could feel myself brimming with happiness. “Are you sure?”

“Yes. And try to forget everything you’ve ever learned about mana and history. Hmm, forget is probably the wrong word. Scrutinize what you know.  If you know anything. What has Quintin taught you? You know the two ways of using mana, yes?”

“…no…we don’t talk about mana much since I couldn’t use it. I can shoot a bow really well and can kind of use a sword if I had to. That’s it.”

“Then you really do need me,” realized Jessie. “He’s slacking. Typical. Quintin probably feels like he’s not adequate enough to teach you correctly. It’s a sense of inferiority I detect in his work, but he’s a good man at heart, so what does it matter?” She licked her lips and looked at me. “Mana is a naturally occurring source of energy floating all around us. The color of your eyes indicates how much you can draw, store, and use at a given time. You can channel it externally and internally to produce different effects by attuning raw mana with different elements. Internal mana is used to enhance the body to make you faster or stronger, and external mana is used to create spells that make fire or water. That seem familiar to you?”

I nodded.

“Good. Now, because of your eyes, you’ll be able to draw on and store a lot of mana without much effort, but it won’t make you powerful overnight. A well-trained person with brown eyes could easily kill you in a fight,” continued Jessie, rambling onward. “If I gave you the best sword in the world, it’d cut well and produce remarkable effects with little effort, but you’d still need to practice. In that same analogy, a master swordsman with a stick could kill you even with your superior weapon. That’s where you are right now. You’re a novice holding a power sword without any idea of how to use it. Understand?”

I nodded.

“Barcus will teach you internal skills, and I’ll help you with external abilities. You’ll find the power I embed within you to be far superior,” Jessie scoffed.

“So…do people specialize in one type of mana use over another?” I asked, picking up something in her words. “Most people I’ve seen kind of use both.”

“It’s better to figure out what you’re best at and lean the most into that,” she replied. “Splitting your time inefficiently between both makes you weaker overall. It’s better to refine what you’re best at and move on.” She smiled. “Otherwise, you’ll end up like Tart—stubborn with wasted potential.”

Ah. Just picked up on some Trailblazers lore right there. I realized. “I kind of see the benefits of that approach, though. It creates more options in a fight.”

“Absolutely. But what if someone at the same level as you focused entirely on external mana while you decided to dip into internal skills for half your time? They’d be practicing twice as much as you on one ability while you split your knowledge between two. Wouldn’t they be stronger if they continued that path? Wouldn’t it be a mistake to halt or lessen something you were good at just to learn something new for the sake of it? It’s not a terrible idea to learn many things, but your ability with mana could be the difference between life and death. Consider that as you grow up.” She whirled around the room and organized it while we spoke. “You’re young, and as your teacher, I’ll set you straight and give you a firm foundation for success.” Jessie pointed at the books on her bed again. “Read them. I stole them from the Imperial College of Magic in Camden. Well, copied, but they’d probably consider it stealing regardless,” she said with a shy grin. “They’re mostly unbiased and will give you a more in-depth view of the world and mana.”

I glanced at the titles again. The one that caught my eye first was called “The Holy Wars,” and the second was “A History of Mana.”

“An adventurer wrote ‘The Holy Wars’ during the last war between humans and devils,” explained Jessie. “He interviewed beings on both sides of the war. It’s a pretty fair accounting. Given what you are and where you’ve lived your entire life, it’ll help you understand your place and perspective in this world.”

“My place in this world is to be liked by a few, ignored by most, and hated by some,” I said, synthesizing my perspective on the world given my last ten years of life.

“Depressing. And untrue. There are many kinds of people in this world,” stressed Jessie. “Besides, power is the equalizer, and your white eyes are a sign of that. But first, read ‘A History of Mana’ before our next meeting. It’ll give you an unbiased, fairly comprehensive education on mana, magic, spells, monsters, demons, mana crystals, miasma, magical items, mana circles, the mark, theories on the mark, the differences between internal and external mana, and more. It’s a great guide. And thick. Write in it, save your favorite pages, and keep it as a reference. It’s very, very helpful.” She smiled. “And it’ll save me some time.”

I glanced at the third book. “The Bard and the Princess?” I read.

“That’s for me,” admitted Jessie. “Your situation’s stressing me out, and I had to kick out my toy, so I’ll need something to help me unwind.”

“Gross,” I muttered.

“It’s gross now, but in five or ten years, you’ll be just like me,” she said with a sad smile. “Powerful people are much more susceptible to vices. With power comes burdens, and they’ll be even worse for you, considering your eyes and who you are. Good luck with that.”

“Whatever you say, but I doubt it.”

“Saying things like that reminds me how young you are,” chirped Jessie. “Why am I even talking about this with you?” She shook her head. “Anyways, questions?”

“You’re not a religious person, I take it. Why?”

“My father was a priest. I lived in a temple my entire childhood.”

Well, that explains the sarcasm, debauchery, and general attitude.

“I lived in Camden. You know Camden, yes? It’s the capital. The King lives there.” Jessie stared at me for a moment. Her gaze flicked to the books and back to me. “I forgot to ask, but can you read?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Gross. Don’t use ma’am with me ever again.” Jessie made a face. “Do you not understand how astounding it is that your eyes are white?”

“Quintin and Amalia seemed excited about it and thanked the Gods, but I didn’t sense that it meant anything world-changing or catastrophic,” I said. “I mean, I hid them on purpose, but mostly out of caution. I didn’t know how others would react. Nothing negative has happened so far, though.”

“Don’t go by your stupid parents.”

My voice dripped with ice. “My what?”

“Sorry, they’re not stupid. They’re uninformed, as are most people,” corrected Jessie. “How many people do you think have white eyes in this world?”

“A few hundred?”

“You’re the fourth person I know of.”

I clenched my jaw.

“The Empress of Brosnock, Ymir Brosnock, is probably the most well-known. The head of the Holy Knights in Agias, Lyrus Creed is the other. There’s also an adventurer in the Guild who works out of Viorna who goes by the name Peace. He’s well known. There could be others, but I doubt it. That makes you the fourth. You realize what caliber of people that puts you with?”

I could feel my spine shiver.

“That’s it from me today. You can go.” Jessie waved me off. “I’m going to make Barcus extend our stay here another two months. That’ll be more than enough time to teach you the basics. What do you say? Okay?”

“O-Okay?”

Jessie nodded. “Go read. I’ll send a letter when I’m ready for you. It’ll probably be three days from now. Maybe more. Be patient.”

Whatever high I felt was immediately blunted by Jessie’s assessment of reality. “Yeah…alright.” I walked to the door, glanced back at Jessie, and dipped my head. “I appreciate your guidance.”

“Gross. Please don’t speak to me with respect. It’s weird. I don’t like it.”

Easy enough…

I left Jessie’s room and walked out to see Nigel casually leaning against the railing right outside the room. His posture was awkward, and he was whistling like a moron.

So obvious.

“Hear anything interesting?” I asked, sliding beside him to look down at the busy bottom floor of the inn.

“Hear something? Me? No way!” explained Nigel hastily. He never made eye contact with me. “I was just walking up here, saw Jessie’s door was closed, knocked, then decided to wait. Actually, I was about to leave, but—” He cut himself off. “I’m sorry. I heard everything.” He looked me directly in the face through my strands of hair. “Your eyes are very pretty.”

“To hear everything, you must have heard a few things and decided to stick around and snoop,” I assessed, ignoring his last sentence.

“Yeah…” Nigel paused. “People downstairs were talking about how Jessie brought a young devil girl to her room, so I thought I’d investigate since it seemed…odd, given the kind of person she is.”

“It was a lot of rambling,” I joked. “But I did get to watch her throw out her, um, friend, though.”

“I waved to him as he ran to his room.”

“He seemed friendly.”

“He did,” admitted Nigel.

We laughed.

“You’re gonna be so strong one day,” Nigel said as we quieted down. “I’ve only got brown eyes, so I’ve got a long way to go. Hey, Jessie’s going to start teaching you, yeah? Did I hear that right?”

“That’s what we agreed on. She overloaded me with books, complained about religion, made fun of Tart, tore me down a little bit, and sent me on my way.”

“Yeah, she does that.” Nigel’s eyes seemingly sparkled. “So we’re training together?”

God, he is such a little puppy. Just an adorable, happy little puppy that’s willing to follow me wherever I go. I don’t hate it.

“We are. What’s Jessie like as an instructor?”

“Unserious but very patient and intelligent,” said Nigel. “She has quirks, but you’ll learn them quickly.

That doesn’t seem very promising. I hope I’ve seen all the quirks already, but somehow I doubt it.

“I guess we’re staying in Sandy Branch longer than expected. Or are you joining us on the road?” asked Nigel.

“There’s no way my mother would allow that.”

“Then we’re staying! Everyone’ll be excited. Except Tart. She hates this place.”

It seems like Tart kind of hates everything. But from what I can tell, that’s Jessie’s fault.

“Hey, wanna go practice sword fighting?” asked Nigel suddenly. “You’ve practiced before, right? I saw you out in your yard. You were pretty good!”

“Barely. I’ve only been at it a few weeks. Archery? I’d take you on any day and win.”

“I’ve never shot a bow before.”

“Then let’s make bets on who’ll hit the most targets. Come on! I’ll go easy on you.”

“No thanks!”

Well, at least he wasn’t totally gullible.

“Hey, brats, before you go, I need to give Yen something,” said a voice from behind us—Jessie.

We turned to see her standing against the doorway with a coy smile.

“Here.” Jessie tossed a thin strip of black cloth at me. “Consider it a gift.”

Nigel and I both stared at the “gift.”

“Thanks?” I looked up at Jessie. “I’ll…treasure it forever?”

Jessie sighed. “It’s a magical item. I bought it in Camden from a craftsman who specialized in making clothes from mana crystals and monster parts. Tie it over your eyes. You’ll be able to hide them without losing your sight.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

Cautiously, I put it over my eyes and tightened the fabric. The next second, the blackness faded away, and my vision cleared. It was like I wasn’t even wearing anything, though I could still feel the soft cloth on my face.

“Amazing,” I breathed out. “I can cut my bangs.”

“And you should. You won’t be able to fight with your hair the way it is,” replied Jessie. She turned back into her room, waving behind us as she did. “Don’t beat her up too badly, Nigel.”

“I won’t!” chimed the boy.

I should have taken that as an insult, but I was too baffled by the blindfold. I kept taking it off and putting it back on, completely at a loss for how it worked. It didn’t set off any “memories” for me either, meaning something like this was entirely new to me.

“Yen?” Nigel tapped me on the shoulder. “Ready?”

“Oh. Yeah.” I fastened the blindfold again. “Sorry.”

Nigel and I left Beginner’s Rest for a field off to the north of town. I brought him to a flat and bright clearing still close to town in case something happened to either of us.

“What style do you want to practice?” asked Nigel. He handed me a practice sword from his codex before retrieving his own from the same place.

“I just awakened a few days ago,” I reminded the boy. “I know the styles. There’s the Warring style, Heavenly style, and Chaos style. Can’t use a single one, though. Obviously.”

“Oh. Right. So no mana. Gotta remember that.”

“I couldn’t defend it if I had to, so no, please. Just swords, please.” I smiled. “We take away that little advantage, and I can probably thrash you, can’t I?”

Nigel flinched. His usual carefree attitude dissipated slightly. “Sure. And I don’t mind the handicap. Working with the basics is also important. I don’t mind.” A glimmer of pride flashed across his face. “Looking forward to it.”

“How long have you been using a sword?”

“Hmm, since I was six?”

Right, so he’s going to kick the shit out of me. This’ll be fun.

I primed myself in the general stance I “remembered” from my past life. It still felt awkward, though. My body wasn’t quite adapted for it yet.

“Oh, nice! Good stance!” said Nigel. He primed himself as well. The joy left his face as an intense calm overcame him. He looked focused and older. I flinched a bit. “Here I go.”

Nigel held the sword in a similar stand to me, though his posture looked more solid than mine. I could tell from how he tensed his wrist and held his sword that years of practice were engrained into him.

If I can hold him off for a little while without getting walloped, I’ll call that a win.

Nigel moved at me with a speed my mind couldn’t comprehend. In the next moment, a sword cracked fast into my forehead, and I woke up on the ground.

“I’m so sorry!” cried Nigel. He was standing over me, shaking my shoulders. “I thought you’d at least defend yourself! And I accidentally used mana a little! I couldn’t help it!”

“Why’d you have to apologize like a dick?” I muttered, hurt. “I suck, don’t I?”

“A little,” admitted Nigel. “But that was kind of a cheap shot, still.”

“You’re supposed to lie.”

“How would that help you?”

“…fair.”

“Can you get up?” he asked.

 I tried, but the world around me swirled. Instead, I flopped back down as everything remained blurry. “Not yet.”

Worried, Nigel stared at me for a moment. In the next, he laid down beside me. “You want me to get a bow so you can shoot me?”

I laughed. “What good would that do?”

“I’d feel better.”

“I wouldn’t.”

“Then there’s no way to fix this.”

“Fix this?” I questioned. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“I used mana when we agreed we wouldn’t. I’m just so used to it now that I forgot. Barcus beats the Warring style into my daily. It’s kind of an instinct to open fights with a Rapture. I’m really, really sorry.”

I ignored his whining. The dizziness eventually subsided, and I stood. “Okay. Round two. Let’s go.”

“Are you sure?”

I nodded.

“O-Okay.”

“If you hold back, I’ll spit in your food the next time you eat something.”

“Okay, okay! I won’t!”

Nodding, I resumed my combative stance, and Nigel did the same. I waited, and Nigel made the first move.

“Owww,” I mumbled, dropping to one knee.

Inches away from me, Nigel stopped his swing and relaxed his stance. “Are you—”

I quickly stood up and pointed my blade at his throat. “The winner? Absolutely.”

Flustered, Nigel dropped his sword. “Cheater.”

“I feel like I wouldn’t care in a real battle if I got to live in the end,” I replied.

Nigel frowned like he hated that answer, but he didn’t dismiss it either. “Fine, fine. You win. Lesson learned.”

I smiled. “Glad I could help!”

Nigel laughed at himself, and I chuckled right along with him.

I couldn’t say I was actually happy. I didn’t feel any different from usual.

But the feeling was there, I think. Just a thin wall away.