Year 1461 – Shersian Orphanage
"Again," Alaric muttered.
The letters still wanted to wobble, but he pinned them down with sheer stubbornness.
M A N A.
Mana.
On the next line: C I R C U I T S.
He sat cross‑legged in a quiet corner of the chapel, the Primer of the Sixfold Arts open on his lap. Morning light streamed through the stained glass above, painting the pages with muted colors.
He traced a diagram with one finger: a simple human figure with lines drawn along arms and legs, looping through the chest.
Mana circuits travel through the body like veins, the book said. Proper control requires awareness of these pathways and practice in guiding flow without strain.
Veins… arteries…
He had vague, half‑remembered images of anatomy charts on glowing screens, words about blood pressure and nerve impulses. Different world. Same idea.
If mana is like blood in vessels… then the "heart" must be somewhere too.
Deeper in the book, a short line explained:
Each person's mana is stored in the soul and flows through the circuits. The soul slowly draws mana from the world and refills over time.
Slowly. It even mentioned that a fully emptied mana pool could take a full day to refill.
So it doesn't come straight from the air. It sits inside. Like a tank that fills drop by drop.
He frowned.
If that's true… then if I keep emptying it and letting it refill, the "tank" might grow.
The Primer didn't say that. It just warned:
Overuse may cause fatigue and damage to circuits. Moderation is advised.
He snorted. "You don't say."
His fingertips still remembered the sting from the time he'd pushed too much energy through them.
He flipped a page.
Instructions for a basic light spell. Most of it he'd already figured out with Harn and his own experiments, but the book broke it down:
Draw mana from your inner pool along the arm, gather it gently in a small point above the hand, use the command word "Creo Lux" to create light out of mana, then shape that light with image and intent.
Blessed Light mages may use "Creo Lux" to create pure light without fire, but such talent is rare.
Alaric snorted. "So that one's not for me."
It is also noted that most mages used full incantations like "Creo Lux, shine forth and banish the dark" to keep their minds focused.
That's… slow.
Alaric tapped the page.
If "Creo Ignis" just means *create fire*, and the rest is telling the mana what to do… maybe I don't need all the extra words.
Maybe I can say "Creo" once, and do the shaping in my head.
He closed his eyes.
In his mind, he drew the simple magic circle from the book. Then he stripped the unnecessary flourishes, leaving only the parts that actually controlled output: small, steady light; little heat.
He pictured mana flowing from a point inside his chest....his "tank" down his arm, into his palm.
He raised his hand.
"Creo Ignis," he whispered.
A tiny orb of orange‑white flame blinked into existence a finger's width above his palm. It hovered there, burning slow and tight. It gave off enough light to chase the shadows from the corner, but barely any heat brushed his skin.
It was brighter than his old candle‑flame trick, but his hand didn't feel hot.
He grinned.
It worked.
"Alaric."
He jumped. The orb winked out.
Sister Elaina leaned on a bench nearby, arms folded, brow raised. "Practicing during prayer time?"
"Uh." He shut the book a little too fast. "Studying mana. It's… sort of like praying?"
"Interesting theology," she said dryly, but there was no real anger in her eyes. "Just don't set the hymnals on fire. Corwin will make me copy them out by hand."
"I won't," Alaric said. "Probably."
She rolled her eyes, then softened. "He's doing a history talk this afternoon. Old wars, old kings, that sort of thing. Figured you'd want to sit in and correct him in your head."
"I'll listen," Alaric said.
Elaina patted the top of his head once, then moved away.
He glanced up at the mural above the altar, the Hero driving a sword into a monstrous shadow, seven lights blazing behind him like stars.
The Demon God was gone. But people still hurt each other. Fear still steered too many choices.
If someone like that Hero could change the whole age… then magic really could matter.
He looked down at his hand, remembering how the orb had hovered there, neat and efficient.
If I learn all the rules on these pages… I can become strong enough that next time, I don't just watch while everything burns.
"Mana," he murmured. "Circuits. Flow. Creo."
Step by step, he would learn how the world's tricks worked.
Then he'd start making some of his own.