Damian Franklin

 

 A knock at the door interrupted Damian in the middle of his physical training. To an outsider observer, the movements could have been either some kind of yoga or the sequence of a martial art. He paused in contemplation, his normal annoyance at being disturbed was registering fairly low. In fact, what he felt was a warm feeling that there were more visitors. The obsidian man was enthralled by the shift in his emotional reaction. He was lost in the study of the new experience when the knock came again to remind him what had sparked the sensation in the first place.

A real smile formed when he opened the door and saw his new visitors. He was pleased to see Malachi again, and the woman behind was a welcome addition. “Hello Malachi Armstrong, it is good to see you again,” greeted Damian. The bearded man took his offered hand. The practice seemed to have paid off. He sounded much less mechanical this time. It’s funny how I never noticed before how robotic I must have seemed to others, he added to himself.

Next, Damian turned to the unfamiliar woman, “Hello, I’m Damian Franklin. It is nice to meet you.”

“Molly St Clair,” replied the new friend. Over shaking hands, she added, “It is a pleasure to meet you. Your reputation precedes you.”

“My reputation?” asked Damian curiously, his head tilted to the side. “I could not say that I have done anything of note.”

Malachi grinned in astonishment and said, “Julia told me about your deal to help them learn to control their Mana. That’s why we're here, and that’s what Molly is talking about.”

“...because I offered to help someone?” blinked the obsidian man. “I do not see how that would make meeting me a pleasure. It is good that people value learning that much… I guess?”

  “Well, this is not going anywhere…” sighed Molly. “You are the first people to cast a spell. We have heard of no one else.”

“What?” reacted Damian in shock. The stoic face crumpled in a rare show of horror and confusion. “Did anyone read the books? Xavier Ceaitle was very clear in the use of both internal and external Mana... How many times have you two read your copies?”

Molly calmly informed him that she was on her second read through and Malachi admitted with some embarrassment, “I haven’t had a chance to finish my first attempt. Things have been a little hectic for me. We know that you’re unwilling to help with Mana training until a person has read their book twice. Julia and Clarissa told us. We’re here for a related reason, but not for lessons just yet.”

“Correction, I can not do anything until you have at least read the book twice,” informed the obsidian man. “There is not a question of will I. Twice is important because the book alters itself to be a better tool with each read. The first time is for the foundational knowledge, but it is also for the book to gain an understanding of how to best teach you. After the second time, the book will have explained everything to you better. More than twice is, of course, better. It is just the minimum I believe necessary for your understanding to be high enough for my help to be effective.”

“Wait, the book changes in reaction to the reader?” spurted Malachi. The bearded man looked down at the book in his hand with suspicion and wonder. “How does that even work? Is it alive? Hey, how do you even know that?”

Damian gestured for them to come in as he went to one of the books. While perusing the external Mana book, he said “The book added an explanation once I noticed the shifts in subject focuses. Parts that had been difficult for me to grasp were suddenly much more descriptive, and things I understood became briefer. The hypnotic effect of the book made it harder to notice as well. Ah, here it is.”

 The obsidian man flipped the book around with a finger pointing at the relevant passage. Molly took the book from him and Damian curiously noted that her hand moved to adjust glasses that weren’t there. The hand froze, then dropped as the cool-eyed woman read aloud, ““Due to the need to accelerate and increase the quality of learning, all texts are imbued with a semi-intelligent spirit to facilitate comprehension of a subject based on the reader. It has long been understood that the best results for students come from when a teacher can take into account the strengths and weaknesses of an individual. The support spirit allows for a personally tailored curriculum on a mass scale that only needs to be supported by a few mentors. These adjustments are made possible by a low-grade mental link during any interactions with the book via reading.” Well, that's both... the most amazing thing I have ever heard of... and a little disturbing.” Molly handed the book back absently, lost in thought.

“That’s creepy as hell,” reiterated Malachi. “This place is pretty freakin’ loose with the use of mental stuff…. But, it does explain why we’re expected to learn something as alien as magic in five days… a little at least.”

“It doesn’t leave me very satisfied,” frowned Molly. “This guided learning experience is just exemplary, but part of the reason we came was to find out how you learned to cast spells at all, Damian. I have read the textbook… How does the heartsong know how to craft a spell in the first place? What even is the heartsong? You’ve connected to that part of you… how?”

“I can help with this,” stated Damian with a content crinkle around his eyes. He was feeling a strong upwelling of joy at being able to discuss the books. He just wished the two of them had already finished the books enough for a deeper conversation. “I have read both books several times over. I doubt that the spirit of the books could possibly show me anything new at this point. That’s how I got an explanation for why the books changed on each read. Also because I became fixated on that. 

“Sorry, that was a tangent, but for a reason. Ultimately, the book spirit wants to answer our questions, and I had a lot. The heartsong is a traditional term for the deep self or the subconscious. The deep self takes the brunt of the work in manipulating Mana and creates a spell to trigger an effect. The spell is personal, as the words chosen to make it up are designed to invoke concepts and perspectives in the mind of the caster. The high mind, or the ego, is also necessary to complete the spell as a guiding will. The spells you begin with are called chants. According to the book, those types of magic are considered low magic. That’s the first step on the path of external Mana manipulation.”

“Ok, that was a lot to take in,” grumbled Malachi. His fingers moved as if he was calculating or directing something. “How does the deep self know how to do that? Like was something granted to us when we came here or have humans always been capable of this?”

“That I can not yet answer, definitively at least,” replied the obsidian man. “My theory is that we have always been able to, but Mana was missing from Earth. It appears to be some sort of extra-dimensional feature and perhaps does not intersect enough to offer any genuine effect. I wish I knew more. These books are beginner volumes after all. There is a limit to the information contained within, even when you consider the extras the book spirits have access to.”

Molly interjected, “Even if Mana was all that was necessary to cast spells, that doesn’t explain where the knowledge to make a spell comes from. You mentioned a hypnotic effect, and I must admit that I have felt a similar sensation. The words of the book even follow me into my dreams.”

“The hypnotic effect is from a deeper layer embedded in the words,” responded Damian. “ To quote, “It is formulated to conduct the heartsong to be sung true.” I am unsure of the meaning of that phrase, but the true shape of the words of Xavier Ceaitle are incredibly complex with meaning. We see English with our high mind, but the deep self sees the whole. The knowledge for spells is an easy answer though. Science. We already have the necessary years of schooling on how the natural world works. The writing never stated it outright, but references made it clear to me that the Mana books come after or with learning the science of reality.”

“Ok, that’s enough for me,” said Malachi with a shake of his. “I very clearly just need to read the book myself. We can discuss these finer details later. This isn’t why we are here.”

“Malachi, I must protest,” argued Molly. “This has been quite informative, and I wish to pursue it further.”

“I’m not stopping you from talking with Damian,” assured the sword acolyte. “Continue talking to him, but I want to ask him about what we decided in the meeting first.” To the obsidian man, he asked, “There was a gathering to make plans, and one of the focuses was on the deadline made by the five days of rations.”

“This has also been a concern to me,” agreed Damian. “I have been preparing my spells.”

“I’m glad to hear that,” smiled the bearded man. “The only way to get more rations is to gather cores from the monsters. Seven people and I went through the Doors to see what it was like on the first day. I’ll spare you the details for now, but it didn’t really go well... beyond no one dying. We are concerned that the fifth day will come... It will come, and we won’t be ready to do any better. There’s already people able to teach the martial stuff, but we were hoping you could take the lead in teaching Mana manipulations. Don’t worry, we would make sure everyone reads their books twice first. If that sounds like too much, then Molly and I are willing to take charge of teaching, if you can give us a leg up.”

 Damian blinked several times as he considered the request. It was flattering that they were asking him, and it was a point of pride that he was the first to get a handle on Mana. The idea of teaching sixty people made his heart flutter, but not much as he expected. Things about him had changed since awakening here. To his visitors, he replied, “I will help. I have already promised to aid Julia and Clarissa. Them, along with you two, should be good practice. After reading the books a few times, I expect the process will be more about guiding than instruction on my part.” 

 “That is excellent, thank you Damian!” said a thrilled Malachi. “I’ll leave you two to chat so I can get working on my book.”

With sharp, hungry eyes, Molly opened her mouth to begin asking questions, but Damian grabbed the shoulder of the bearded man to keep him from leaving. In response to the questioning look, the obsidian man awkwardly let his arm drop free and said, “I would like to ask a favor of you both. My spellwork training has risen to my current limit. There is a need to test it on something other than a wall. I had planned to go out into the tunnels myself, but with you two, I don’t have to go alone.”

“Damian, it’s very dangerous,” frowned Malachi. “A single bite or scratch will sicken us.”

The obsidian man attempted to assure them, “It shouldn’t be a concern. My spells will allow us to stay at range.”

“We may not be able to just “stay at range,”” countered Molly. “Their sense of smell is powerful, and the rat things charged us the moment they got a whiff.”

“We’ll stay close to the exit and then retreat the moment they start to swarm,” remarked Damian. “I would prefer your company, but I planned to go without you.” The three of them argued back and forth a bit without any budging. Curious to see what the magic man had up his sleeve, Malachi and Molly relented for the sake of keeping him alive.

“It’s unlikely we’ll be able to gather any cores this time,” informed the sword acolyte. “That would take us too close to the Ratsins for my tastes.”

“The cores are unnecessary to me for the moment,” replied Damian. “Which is unfortunate, I would like a hat.” He touched the top of his head absently.

“A hat?” asked Molly, trying not to stare at his head.

“Yes, a wizard’s hat,” said Damian with shiny eyes. “It would complete my current equipment.” The obsidian man grabbed his robe and staff from the wardrobe before heading to the door. The two behind him sighed but followed. His visitors quickly got Damian up to speed on the last engagement with the monsters. Under the painted sky, Malachi was even convincing enough to get an agreement from him to wait for more people to join.

It was annoying to wait, but the wisdom of safety in numbers wasn’t worth ignoring. Damian found his eyes drawn above after Molly and Malachi rushed away to find people. He couldn’t help adoring the painting. So real, that only the cracks of the ancient paint gave away its true nature. Time went by swiftly while he was mesmerized by the dream of a blue sky. Before he knew it, the obsidian man was surrounded by several new people.

Introductions were made for the four that agreed to come with. There was one with the largest shoulders, a Warner Papadopoulos, who came with a grin and clenching fists. The next two, Elena Cooke and Zechariah Law towered over the grinning man as they stood to either side. The ax and shield wielder Elena nodded a greeting over crossed arms. Her dark skin glistened with sweat as did on her pale counterpart. Both had been in the middle of training before coming. Those three watched Malachi, Molly, and the bow-carrying newcomer. Their name was Vihaan Tavade, and the man was quite friendly to Damian’s pleasure. It is good to have more examples on how to be friendly, thought Damian 

 Damian wasn’t sure why there was tension, but it seemed to be related to how the two groups mirrored each other. However, he didn’t care. Once the pleasantries were done, the obsidian man headed off towards the Doors. There had been enough delays as far as he was concerned, and their tension could be dealt with later. Or better, without him around.

Malachi caught up and went over the strategy for this “raid.” His bearded friend explained that he had instructed everyone to only act in the defense of Damian and the main goal was to retreat to the hall. Unless the Ratsins swarmed, they were to let him do his tests. At the Doors, Malachi stepped up to push them open. As they slid back into the walls, the obsidian man readied his Mana. Through the internal Mana book, he had learned about Forms. A way to guide yourself into various states. 

Damian energized his Mana to flow within himself in the right patterns to enter his Spell Form. Like with spells, the deep self took the lead, and through mediation, it had offered a state that eased the strain of spell casting. With effort, he activated the form and felt the energy filling his body like a raging river swelling from its banks. A sensation of something fluid covered his whole body like a protective layer. The field made external Mana easier to arrange into the proper sphere for casting. 

The obsidian man felt the eyes of Molly on him as he worked the Mana. He got the feeling she was seeing something of what he did. Damian looked forward to when the woman had caught up. 

Through the doorway, he paused at the stirring of Mana on his arm. Cautiously he lifted his sleeve and was stunned by the sudden appearance of three golden rings. The obsidian man tried to peer into the rings to see its secrets. Something repealed him after only a glimpse, but even what he saw was too complex for him to grasp anything. Malachi showed his own rings and offered his guess that they were a mark for the three times death would be barred. Damian only nodded rather than engage in a discussion in hostile territory. It could be discussed later. There were tests to do, so he turned his attention to the tunnel.

As warned, the space beyond the Doors was a long, damp cavernous tube that disappeared into the darkness. The areas of phosphorus glow were a mixed blessing, with the reassurance light inspires and the horror of what was revealed. Molly and Malachi had tried to describe the Ratsin. To prepare him for the impact of the sight. Damian wasn’t sure if there could have been any way for him to be. It was hard to be ready for how visceral of an emotional reaction the sight gave him. It was enough that his Mana preparations quaked and almost crumbled. It was a testament to his efforts that the obsidian man was able to reestablish the construct.

The Ratsins shifted about like maggots fighting over a corpse. Watching them, Damian felt his revulsion turn to something red and sharp. A grimace formed that pulled his lips from his teeth. The rest of the party was arrayed behind, but he saw the same expressions on their faces. There was nausea there, but the angry disgust was overpowering it in them too. 

First, I shall shine a light, decided the obsidian man. Damian held the impression of what he wanted from the spell and then chanted the words.

 

“O’ Star of mine, 

Brighten my sight, 

Shine divine, 

Starlight.”

 

The familiar violet star burst into life above his palm. Its light had grown in great strength since the first casting. It was a simple spell, his first spell, but that increasing brightness had become a measure of pride of how far he had taken this new skill. Damian pointed to the ceiling and the star flew to the spot to better spread the light. He waited to see if the monsters would react, but the new light didn’t seem to affect their continuous struggles.

I shall continue the process then, thought the obsidian man. Next, a defense. This spell was newer and needed testing the most. As a passive spell, he could only practice the casting and change minor aspects. The main effect could not be assessed in his room, too dangerous. Damian lifted the staff in both hands to cast the new spell.

 

“Call the Stars,

To See All Repealed,

Thy Light for Ours,

Starfield.”

 

The intention flowed out and rippled through the construct of Mana. Around him sprouted a dozen points of violet light. Little stars that barely gave off illumination gathered before Damian’s staff. This time the spell was strong enough for a backlash that caused the world to waver before him. The expected sensation of disconnection washed through him, and then his place in the universe stabilized. Back in control, the obsidian man shifted his little stars to stand between him and the Ratsins. Should they get close enough, the Starfield was supposed to protect him.

“I will now begin an attack,” announced Damian in a whisper. It seemed best to warn them. In preparation, he stoked his Mana into movement and brought more external Mana under his control. Excited to see what would happen, he picked out his targets and began to recite.

 

“The Stars Streaking,

A Divine Onslaught,

Your Violet Flaring,

Star Shot.”

 

The spell gathered at the top of his staff like a swarm of comets trying to rotate around each other. Violet light was condensed into the appearance of glass shards. Focusing on the chosen targets, the obsidian man unleashed the power drawn by his words. Four groupings of the three violet missiles launched from the tip of his staff. Four rat things were impaled by the streaking light. Two died outright when one of the shards took out something vital. The others died from ripping themselves apart as the summoned star shards burned their flesh.

The death of their fellows did elicit a response from the Ratsins. That reaction was varying though. The monsters from the dark side of the tunnel leaped forward to claim the dead. Those in the light froze and sniffed at the air. Damian contemplated the results of his attack. 

He spoke the words again, fighting off the backlash to maintain the spell. This time he tried six groupings of two and spent more time on his aim. This time only one got an instant kill and four died from the mangling. 

The last was impaled in such a way that it couldn’t move and survived until the violet shards faded. The vile creature got to its feet with red eyes focused on Damian. The obsidian man was taken aback as the thing seemed so sure in its aggression and charged with a shriek. The Ratsin came into range of the starfield and he felt the spell trigger through the link that allowed him to maintain it. One of the twinkling stars shot forward and exploded on impact. 

All of them had been distracted by the shriek and explosion. When Damien looked up from the chunks of rat, he heard a collective gasp from behind. All the Ratsins had gone still except for the rapid pulsing of their noses. A chorus of short screeches echoed from random monsters. Those within the violet light of the ceiling star began to encroach towards the humans. The little cries kept coming from those moving until one in the lead gave out a long yodeling scream. Like a trumpet calling for a charge, the rat things leaped forward into the range of the starfield. Stars streaked into the wave of monsters and detonated. Most were shredded, but enough got through due to numbers. Their shrieking grew louder as they closed in on the humans.

The whole group moved towards the exit at the same time, Warner’s crew moving to cover the rear.  The first couple of people had made it to the doorway when the Ratsins caught up. The rearguard lashed out at the wounded monsters to finish them off and dragged others into a fight.

Surprising them all, the rat things ignored the provocation to rush Damian instead. The first one, the obsidian man bashed away with his staff while backpedaling to safety. One of the martial members quickly stepped in. One creature got through and leapt to slash with its foul claws. The attack was resisted at first. His Form’s minor defensive properties hardened against the force, but in the end, it could only lessen the blow. A claw mark trailed down his forearm. Damian had smartly raised it defensively. Zechariah’s spear ended the last Ratsin and they all hurried back to the hall before more followed.

Once in the Hall, Malachi came to Damian. Exclaiming over the wound the bearded man said, “Damnit, they got you. I’ll go find Clarissa. She’s holding a stock of cores for us. Damn wish we could have collected some this time… perhaps they’ll still be there when we come in force… We need to get you a potion before you sicken.”

The obsidian man stared down at the wound, but was looking past it. Since they had told him about the sickness, he had been curious how it was being caused. Now Damian could see exactly what it was. An invading Mana source was lashing out at his personal Mana like poison. With a little concentration, the threat was purified.

“Malachi, don’t worry. I will not get sick. None of us should ever get sick from the Ratsins ever again, once you have control of your own Mana. The sickness is caused by an infection of enemy Mana. I have cleansed myself.”

“Well, hooray,” grinned Malachi. “That’s some great news!”

“Yes, it is,” nodded Damian. “Today is a good day. I have learned a lot.”