Heart of Magic

Passive II (Deviant - 30%) [Call of Nature]

You are a magical creature, and as such, mana is an integral part of you, flowing through your body like blood through your veins. You can’t survive without it, but you can enjoy increased [Intelligence] and [Wisdom] by 97%(75%) → 143%(110%).

Tier II - Mana manipulation is a fundamental skill for any magical creature such as yourself to prove the right to live. Hard to achieve, but once you do, you’ll find mana manipulation much easier to grasp and magic to use.

 

“Fuck yes!” I screamed at the top of my lungs, sitting as I was, then leaned back and sprawled on the cold floor, exhausted, drenched in sweat from head to toe. Idleaf jumped at my shout of triumph; Aspen just raised an eyebrow. 

“What happened?” She asked, knowing full well that I wouldn’t act like that just because I had finally managed to create a layer of mana not different from the one formed when using [Mantle of Magic], paper-thin and smooth-ish as glass.

“I reached Tier II in [Heart of Magic].”

Aspen’s eyes widened. “Shit! Seriously?”

“Um-hmm,” I nodded, perhaps a little too smugly.

“What did it give you?” The former city guard blurted out, realizing her slip-up immediately. She cleared her throat, throwing me an apologetic look, but her eyes shone with undying curiosity. “Sorry, of course, you don’t have to tell me if...”

“It’s okay, Aspen. You are my teacher and...” I swallowed my last words. She was a slave and surely forbidden to share any information about me with anyone other than Rayden. “Tier II further increased my bonus in Intelligence and Wisdom,” I said quickly, trying to brush off my blunder and quench her curiosity. Even though her class after evolution was Guardswoman, she was a mage at the core, and my heart, therefore my skill, was something any of them craved. 

“That was to be expected. How far?”

“140%. I’m pretty sure my class has an effect on it,” I added when I saw Aspen stagger, her eyes bulging.

“Still...” She let out an almost hysterical sounding laugh, shaking her head in disbelief. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were a born mage, and one from a mage family at that.”

While I had no idea how much of an advantage such a mage had over his less fortunate-born peers, it was obvious what she meant. “Is the stat bonus that good?”

“Yeah, it is, Korra. It is! You know, your skill is what we call Fundamental Skill. It’s the foundation on which mages build. The best ones that mages can get increase Intelligence and Wisdom by roughly 60% at Tier I, up to 90% at Tier II. We...well they, the skill I have increased my stats only by 75% at Tier II, can achieve what you have just because of their mage classes.” Aspen adjusted her collar, mumbled something about arrogant twats born with a golden spoon stuck up their asses, and glanced at me. “It’s a skill to be jealous of. I envy you.”

“Got it. I’m a freak in the magic department, too.”

She chuckled. “Your skills are crazy, your stats...not so much, I suppose.”

 

Name: Korra’leigh Grey

Race: Human/Beast

Gender: Female

Age: 29

Main Class: Deviant of Humanity

Sub Class: Slave

Level: 113

 

Constitution: 123 (41)

Strength: 69 (29)

Endurance: 38  (28)

Dexterity: 35  (27)

Intelligence: 25 -> 31 (13)

Wisdom: 23 -> 29 (12)

 

No, my stats definitely didn’t fall out of the mage’s book. I could imagine that at my level, their Intelligence and Wisdom reached the base level of my Constitution. With 40 points in them and [Heart of Magic] among my skills, that would push the two stats to 97 points. The amount of mana I would possess would be staggering, the possibilities that would open up before me endless, all but a pipe dream.

Actually, after doing some short math, it struck me just how heavily Constitution-oriented I actually was. Of course, the Strength, as far as the skill bonuses were concerned, was just a step behind my main stat, still.

“No,” I said in the end. “My stats are nothing special, at least as far as Intelligence and Wisdom are concerned.”

“Thought so. So, what about Tier II?”

What did the description say, huh? “No bonuses. Just that mana manipulation should be much easier to grasp and magic to use.”

“Mana manipulation?”

“Yeah, that’s what it says. Why? Mana manipulation, mana control, isn’t it one thing?” You know, different wording of the same shit.

“Is that what you taught her?” Aspen asked Idleaf instead of answering me, a tiny hint of respect returning to her voice. The spirit, lying next to me, acting like a kid, simply didn’t inspire esteem, and it didn’t matter that she was a projection of one of the World Trees, beings whose roots spanned the world and whose name alone evoked respect. I wondered a few times if all of them, all eleven, were like that, like her, once.

“I taught Korra’leigh what I know,” Idleaf replied rather bluntly, continuing to sweep the floor with her back. She seemed unable to lay still as I was, wiggling like she’s got fleas in her ethereal fur.

“Of course,” Aspen sighed, her perception of what was common sense and what was not broken again, this time not by me but my ward. When the former city guard looked back at me, she had this wild look of disbelief in her eyes. “It’s basically the same thing...and it’s not. The term mana control is used when you move mana around, so to speak, by force. Mana manipulation, on the other hand, is used when mana becomes a part of you; when you can shift it naturally without any hassle. Don’t worry, Korra. Any mage worth their salt is capable of that. It just takes most novice mages a while to get that comfortable with mana. Years, decades even.”

“Even to you?”

“It took me three.”

Damn! Three years, and I pulled it off in what? A week of learning magic? I couldn’t say anything to that without throwing salt in the wound and pissing her off.

“Don’t mind me,” she grunted, but the smile she gave me didn’t reach her eyes. “I bet your heart is behind your talent. If I remember correctly, it says in the skill description that mana is a part of you.”

“...and that I am a magical creature,” I added.

“There you have it! Mages tend to think they are one too, but in their hubris, they forget that they are only human,” Aspen said, actually chortling at what she said, at the sheer gall of the mages, despite being one herself. Then, as she got her bearings back together, she stood over me and offered me her hand. “Come on, magical creature. Get up and show me what you can do.”

Grabbing her hand, I got to my feet with her help, wiped the sweat from my forehead and...simply like that, as if all the training so far was a cruel joke, I created a layer of mana around my forearm. It looked just like the one I formed through my own efforts, but the way I created it was so...effortless, almost as if I was born with the ability, coming to me as naturally as breathing.

The power of skills - it seemed so unfair!

‘Much easier to grasp and magic to use’ were the words in the description of [Heart of Magic], and indeed they were true, especially with [Call of Nature] among my skills. My heart, hence my magic and the skill, one of my deviations, my talents, something [Call of Nature] had an effect on.

 

Call of Nature

Passive II (Deviant - 30%)

No matter how it came to be, you’re more than a mere human torn from your roots. Connected to your nature stronger than any beast, you can call it to its full potential. Whether it’s a human or beast trait, it will be 39%(30%) more prominent, and if you were to use the talents you’ve been pursuing to acquire, you’d find them 65%(50%) more powerful.

Tier II - To embrace our nature, what we are is nothing to be ashamed of but hard for many to do. You’ve done more than that and revel in nature of your own. For that, you’ll find using your talents 26% (20%) easier.

65% more powerful and 26% easier to use was my magic, thanks to [Call of Nature]. Not sure about the power end of it, I hadn’t gotten to that side of magic in my lessons yet. Use, although it didn’t strike me that way often enough, especially not today, was definitely easier with the skill, though.

“Try more; cover your whole arm with mana or both your hands at once,” Aspen urged. While I succeeded, it wasn’t without its challenges, and I quickly learned that it wasn’t going to be smooth sailing from then on as I thought it might be.

“You may be a magical creature, but it seems that even to the likes of you, magic comes as easy as learning to swim or fart silently,” Aspen remarked with a smirk after she saw that covering my entire arm in mana had taken its toll on me.

“Can you teach me?” Idleaf piped, already back on her feet, her ears perked and excited to learn something new.

Aspen looked at her, eyebrows raised. “You want to learn to swim?”

“No, fart silently.”

“W-well,” Aspen stammered, lost for what to say. “That was...just a stupid...remark...”

That it was a remark, an exaggeration, a joke meant in jest, Idleaf didn’t care. Her ecstatic expression and tail wagging from side-to-side spoke of how eager she was to learn the trick. Me? After actually facepalming myself and stifling a laugh, I eyed the ethereal spirit with the question on the tip of my tongue that popped into my mind. “Do you even fart?”

 

***

 

It didn’t take long, and we wrapped up the lesson. And what a lesson it was. I picked up far more than I could ever imagine learning in one session and stepped onto the path of a mage. Well, let’s be honest, a pseudo mage. Whether I liked it or not, I would never be a true mage.

“Korra, before you go,” Aspen stopped me as I turned to leave. “Two days ago, I met with Frank Wood. You know him, right?”

Well, it’s the first time I heard his last name, but... “Sure. What did he say?” Sudden anxiety came over me. Was Scoresby willing to meet me, or did he never want to see me again?

“That old merchant you want to meet is in Mitta right now. He should be back...wait. Here!” she said, handing me a note.

 

[Miss Grey, great to hear you’re doing well.

I was afraid you might end up a slave again.

If you are really interested in talking to an old man like me, you can find me at 26 Fair Street on the 5th of Thought. Marlen will prepare one more serving regardless of whether you show up for lunch.

Best regards, Scoresby]

 

“The 5th of Thought,” I repeated out loud. “Is that the day after tomorrow?”

Aspen, humoring Idleaf, who was pestering her I had no idea what about, gave me a look. “Um-hmm, have you lost track of time in Esulmor?”

“I guess.” I didn’t see the point in telling her how I found the local calendar hard to get my bearings in. It wasn’t that complicated, to be honest. All months had 25 days. And when I say all, I mean all, no exceptions. What was complicated were the months themselves and their names. There were twenty-six of them, as well as labyrinths, their names derived from the names of those ancient structures.

Last month, Brave, was based on the labyrinth called Brave’s Loneliness. The name of this month, Thought, was in turn derived from the name Beheaded’s Thought. Even Fallen’s Cry had a month named after it, Cry. However, that one wasn’t due to come for more than half a year, as far as I knew.

Honestly, whoever thought this up wasn’t thinking of the people who will have to remember it. On the other hand, I didn’t try that hard. I had so many things to learn and more pressing matters to deal with that all I cared to know was the current month’s name.

“Rayden is aware, so you know,” Aspen said, as she dealt with Idleaf. The spirit stood beside her, tail wagging happily. “I had to tell her.”

“I see. Don’t worry about it.” Seeing her readjusting her collar reminded me of how I fought Dungreen’s orders. “Thanks for telling me. Tomorrow, then?”

“I’ll be here. You?”

I bit my lip. That stung. Being ghosted sucked. I hated it and now I found myself on the bitch end. “I’ll do my best to be here.”

“Then be prepared to dig in. You’ve mastered mana; that’s the easy part. Now you have to learn real magic.”

 

***

 

My next stop: mess hall. The cooks, to be precise.

I needed to get rations as Sergeant Pinescar told me to. Well, and something for my stomach, too. Magic training was no joke, and I worked up quite an appetite in the process.

“Food rations?” the Master Chef I found inside the kitchen asked me back when I told him about my...problem. The burly man, slightly overweight, clean-shaven, his hair hidden under a white cap, cast an amused glance at his colleagues in the kitchen.

“Is that an issue? If so, I can go to Travis and...”

“Hold your horses, lass,” he stopped me, looking me up and down. “I have no problem with giving you some rations, but...can you stop her...” He pointed to Idleaf, who was running around the kitchen, pestering the cooks with questions and trying to taste everything. “...is that...you know what? Leave her be.”

“So, you were saying...?” I doubted he actually meant Idleaf by the ‘’but’’.

“Your word you’ll show up at Drunken Filly’s tonight, and I’ll give you what you ask for.”

“W-what?” Was he serious? “Why? Has anyone achieved class evolution?” Someone I knew? Harper? She was level 69 just a few hours ago, though.

The Master Chef laughed and then bellowed at the whole kitchen: “Looks like this rookie doesn’t know how things work around here, lads and lasses.” The cooks, some busy cooking, others distracted by Idleaf, laughed back.

“Nope, lass. It is you, becoming HER Guardian.”

“Word spreads fast around here, huh?” I sighed as I realized I was supposed to be the center of the festivities again.

“You have no idea, so...how will it be?”

That was a good question. I actually considered going to Travis and getting another permit from him. Unlike the hazy flashbacks of the events of that night, the memory of how I ended up the last time I visited the tavern was still vivid in my memory. But I’d both annoy Rayden’s assistant and make a bad record with the cooks. And if life had taught me anything, it was that you don’t want to piss off the guy who makes your food.

“Only you will be there?” I looked around the kitchen, already knowing the answer. Why would the cooks want to celebrate something like that with me?

“Oh, no. Every free ass in the barracks is going. They want to see you, Guardian of the World Tree.”

“Shit!”

He laughed when I swore. “I get you. But I’ve been listening to lads and lasses talk about you all day. They even asked me about you. It’s only a matter of time before they start pestering you like that one,” he tossed his head towards Idleaf. “So, if you want to get them out of your fur, why not do it in one evening? Just saying.”

Sighing, I dropped my wings. No matter how much I didn’t like what he said, it didn’t change the fact that who I had become was drawing attention to me. Hell! I’d be curious if I were in their shoes. The worst part of it was that the barracks was just the beginning. When the word gets out...I didn’t want to imagine.

So yeah, hitting the tavern was a solution. One that was against my better judgment, but even Deckard told me it called for a drink, and I doubted he would ever forget what he said to me in Esulmor. Certainly not a thing like that.

“I’ll be there. You have my word,” I said somewhat reluctantly, hoping deep down that it’ll be enough if I just show up for a minute or two and go.

“That’s what I wanted to hear,” the Master Chef bellowed, satisfied, and smacked me on the shoulder so hard I staggered. “So, how much food space?”

The what? Food space? Oh, dumb of me. Hard-coded in my head were units of weight when it came to food. A kilo of potatoes, half a kilo of onions, that sort of thing. I never thought about how much space the food took up. That was, until it was time to stuff the purchased groceries into the fridge. Then it turned into a game of Tetris.

Anyway, these kinds of issues were passé when everyone had spatial rings, and the limit was the size of the storage, not the weight of the stuff stored in them.

“Hmm....let me think...” I had eight cubic meters of space in a standard spatial ring and two in an outfit-spatial one. I could have easily stuffed the clothes and armor I had into that one and theoretically have eight cubic meters of space for food. That was a lot of food! Anyway, I wasn’t planning to cram all my clothes into an outfit-spatial ring or occupy every available space with edibles.

“Four cubic meters,” I tried cautiously. Still an outrageous amount of food, however, Sergeant Pinescar said the ideal is to stock up for a month, and when I thought about it, I wasn’t sure if those four cubic meters of food would even last me a fortnight.

Much to my surprise, the Master Chef didn’t even flinch. “Meat, veg, pasta?”

“I can choose?”

“Sure.”

“Then meat?”

“Just meat? Are you sure you don’t want anything else with it? Even the biggest meat-lover can get sick of it in the end.”

As I said, when it came to food, my beast side had the upper hand, and although mossbears ate moss, meat was their main diet. “Different kinds of meat, then. Eh...prepared in different ways?”

The man laughed and patted me on the shoulder again. “I like you. Follow me.”

He led me to a room in the back, with several huge crates against its walls. Well, to call them crates was an understatement. Tools the size of large stoves were so complex I couldn’t take my eyes off them. The magic tools I knew and had in my possession seemed like mere toys in comparison to those, eh…storage units.

“Here,” the Master Chef said as he walked over to one of the ‘storage units’, placed his hand on it, and several takeaway portions of roasted meat appeared on the flat top. He repeated the same thing with several others, different types of meat appearing each time.

“What are you waiting for, lass? For it to rot?”

Snapping out of my reverie, I started moving the food to my spatial storage, aghast, drooling, and with a rumbling belly. The man patted his chubby one, amused. “These guys know how to appreciate good food. Anyway, save this for a rainy day. Go back to the mess hall and enjoy the dishes we cooked today.”

“I will.” There was no doubt. I never had a bad meal here.

“And take the see-through lass with you,” he said, gesturing to the kitchen door, behind which Idleaf was hurling one question after another at the cooks. Some already seemed quite fed up with her, and I didn’t blame them. Her youthfulness, energy, and undying curiosity could be very tiring and not to everyone’s taste and if she was anyone else, I was quite sure they would send her to fuck off by now.

Fortunately, getting her out of there wasn’t an issue.

“Keep your word,” the Master Chef told me as I left the kitchen. The warning was obvious. Dare not show up at Drunken Filly tonight, and you’ll never eat a decent meal here again.

“I’ll be there,” I assured him, regretting it already.

“Her too?” He squinted at the spirit.

Shit! Idleaf. How could I forget? I couldn’t bring her to the tavern, could I? Should I ask Rayden? Lord Wigram? Anyone? It didn’t strike me as a good idea letting her loose among people spiked with booze. I wasn’t worried about her getting drunk and causing a ruckus. It was the other way around. I feared what people would say and do to her. I’d hate for Esudein to attack the Empire over a few drunkards.

“I’m not sure,” I told Chef truthfully, hurrying over to Idleaf, who was already shuffling between the mess hall tables. “Idleaf? What are your plans for tonight?” Hopefully, a flight over Eleaden with Zeewet or a quiet meditation with Esudein at her trunk.