14: The Energy Of Life (Patreon)

“Wait here,” Riyan commanded, leaving Vir and Maiya in the hallway as he disappeared into his bedroom. Neither of them had seen the inside of his room.

“What do you think he hides in there?” Maiya asked.

“Why do you think he’s hiding something?” Vir held plenty of suspicion for the man, but the contents of Riyan’s bedroom wasn’t one of them.

“I mean, why else would he be so paranoid about us going inside?”

“Maybe he just values his privacy? Would you like it if he barged into our room?”

“Mmm, I dunno. Feels fishy to me. Just like that other room we can’t go into.”

Vir wondered about that. There was only one other door that was restricted to them. Judging by the door’s size, it led into a large space of some sort.

“Maybe we’ll find out one day,” he said. “But I’m not going to break in and risk Riyan throwing us out in anger.”

Maiya nodded several times. “Agreed. So, what do you think he’s doing in there?”

“Probably something related to magic, don’t you think?”

Vir could scarcely contain his excitement about what Riyan was going to teach them, and he knew Maiya was in the same boat. No one at the village really knew how to use magic aside from Apramor, but since he never had formal training, he couldn’t clearly articulate how it worked.

“I never thought powering a C grade orb would be so different from using utility magic,” Maiya said.

“What does it feel like? To power a utility orb?” he asked, despite already having asked her in the past. Vir had always enjoyed fantasizing about great magic spells that brought forth meteors from the sky. And now that he could see prana, these concepts bore far more importance for him.

This was probably the twentieth time she’d humored him, but Maiya didn’t mind repeating herself for her friend’s sake. “You just kinda ‘will’ the orb to activate, and you can feel a bit of your energy being drained away. Not much though. Just for an instant at the beginning. Then the orb just does its thing and fills up.”

The door to Riyan’s bedroom swung open and out walked the man with a slim wooden box. Its rich red grains and gold inlay gave it a refined, expensive appearance.

The man led the two to one of the living rooms—the one where ornate rugs covered a floor of bare sand. He placed the box on a coffee table and took a seat on a cushioned fabric stool nearby. Vir and Maiya took their seats on similar stools opposite him.

He opened the two gold latches, revealing four white orbs. Some were small enough to be held between two fingers, while one was palm sized.

“I must confess that I am no expert on magic. I cannot teach you the ways of the mejai, girl, but I can share some basics. But first, tell me what you know of prana.”

Maiya thought for a moment before replying. “It’s the stuff that fuels orbs. And orbs power magical spells. And I know that combat orbs use the prana inside our bodies to work. That’s why people need affinities to use combat orbs, right?”

“Wrong,” Riyan said with his head in his hands. “Being ignorant is one thing, but being taught outright lies is… Infuriating. Your instructor should be ashamed.”

Maiya opened her mouth to argue, but Riyan cut her off.

“It is true that prana exists within us, but only in trace amounts. Nowhere near enough to power an orb. Not even a utility orb.”

Riyan’s words countered everything Vir had been told about prana. Granted, the villagers of Brij were no mejai, but still… Vir couldn’t help but feel a little let down.

“Prana exists within all living beings. After all, prana is the energy of life itself. It also,” Riyan held up a finger, “exists in the air.”

“So that’s why crops grow better in prana rich areas,” Maiya said, catching on. “It’s because they breathe the prana in the air, isn’t it? How does that work, though? The air’s not alive… is it?”

Riyan shook his head. “I do not know. As I said, I am no mejai. However, this is a fact. Without prana, orbs would not function. Orbs function by consuming the prana in the air around the mejai.”

Vir glimpsed a ray of hope. If that was true, then it didn’t matter if he had prana in his body or not. It meant that something else was blocking him from using the magic in the air. He just had to find out what.

But Maiya was left unsatisfied with their instructor’s explanation. “If that’s true, then why do you even need an affinity to use magic? What are affinities?”

“I do not know!” Riyan barked. He took a deep breath to calm himself. “Apologies, it is unbecoming to lose my temper. Some mejai say that they seek the permission of the gods to use magic. That an affinity is a blessing, and that through their blessing, they commune with the gods.”

“Is that really true?” Vir asked.

“Who can say?” Riyan said. “I lost my faith in the gods many years ago.” He held up a white orb that glowed with his magic. “As you can see, I can still use magic without issue.”

The whole blessing idea concerned Vir, but there was something else that sounded off about Riyan’s explanation. He realized what it was.

“If orbs gain their power from their surroundings, wouldn’t that mean magic is more effective the closer you are to the Ash? Versus someplace like Brij, where prana’s scarce? It’s the same as how crops grow better, isn’t it?”

Riyan cocked a brow. “An astute observation, boy. You are indeed correct. Have you ever asked yourself why the most prosperous nations border the Ashen Realm, despite the endless hordes of monsters they have to repel daily?”

Their instructor paused, apparently realizing something. “Of course you haven’t! You do not even know the names of these kingdoms, do you? I will only say this once, so be sure to listen. The most powerful countries in the Known World are the Altani and the Kin’jal Empire. Both have long borders with the Ash. They have constructed enormous walls to keep away the Ash Beasts that breach the Ash Boundary. As you can imagine, these walls require immense manpower to keep staffed. It is a significant drain upon their resources, and yet, they remain the most powerful nations. Why is this?”

Maiya hazarded a guess. “It’s because prana makes their magic more powerful, doesn’t it?”

“Yes, and no. People who grow up close to the Ash boast stronger, sturdier bodies. They manifest affinities more often and at an earlier age. They are healthier, can fight longer, and hit harder. And in addition to these advantages, combat magic deployed near the Ash is far stronger.”

With that many cards stacked in their favor, Vir found it hard to imagine a country not being incredibly powerful.

“In fact,” Riyan continued, “standard military strategy for large scale engagements call for immediate deployment of high ranked magic spells, followed by archers, and finally footsoldier and cavalry engagement. Do you know why?”

Maiya shook her head, but Vir thought it over. Since they had been on the topic of prana density, it made sense that this also had something to do with that. Vir had a thought, but it was too ridiculous to be possible.

Though the more he mulled it over, the more it made sense. There was only a finite amount of prana in the air. He doubted a lone mejai could do anything to affect that… but what about a hundred? Or a thousand?

“It’s to deplete the prana in the air, isn’t it? That way, they could prevent the enemy from using magic.”

Riyan looked at him with surprise. “Have you had any training in military tactics, boy?”

Vir shook his head. He himself didn’t know how he came to that conclusion… It simply felt like the right answer. As if he’d fought in a hundred battles and knew that this was well understood.

“That is indeed the reason. Armies expect the enemy to deplete prana, and so, the side that gets more of their spells out before depletion gains an advantage. After all, more spells generally mean more damage to the enemy.”

“Hard to imagine mejai being strong enough to actually pull that off, though,” Maiya said.

“That is because high rank spells consume a significant amount of prana. With enough mejai, it is possible to consume so much prana from the air such that large-scale magic becomes impossible. Lower rank magics will, of course, continue to function, but strategic level spells—the spells that can decide the outcome of a battle in moments—will no longer be in play.”

Riyan paused, looking at them appraisingly. “This strategy is not viable in only one area of the world. Do you know where?”

Maiya spoke up. “Places where magic doesn’t work at all?”

“Correct. The Voided Lands. Barren, pranaless regions on the western coast of the Known World. The land of the Pagan Order, a country that exists exclusively within the Voided Lands. Few live there by choice. Those that do are savages, living more like animals than civilized people.”

He then gestured to the box before them. “Now, let us return to the lesson I had planned for today. These orbs all belong to the Life Affinity. The small ones are grade C. The large one is grade A, and it cost me more than your entire village earns in a whole month, so do not touch it.”

The two friends eyed the orbs like it was a divine treasure.

“Who made these? They’re beautiful!” Maiya said, her eyes gleaming.

“A thaumaturge out of Daha. Thaumaturges are rare magical craftsmen who etch these orbs with the inscriptions required to power various spells.”

“How does that work?” Vir asked. If he could understand the workings of orbs, then perhaps he could learn more about why he couldn’t use magic.

“No one knows,” Riyan replied. “Every thaumaturge in the world merely copies inscriptions passed down for millennia. As far as we know, every inscription we have today comes from the Age of Gods. They are gifts from the gods themselves. If someone tells you otherwise, they are either lying, or they’re Altani. Though I doubt even Altani thaumaturges have cracked the secret, or we’d be seeing new designs flood the market.”

Vir deflated, crestfallen. If no one knew how they worked, he stood little chance of unlocking their secrets himself. Not that it’ll stop me from trying…

Their instructor continued. “The orbs you are familiar with are only of grade D. Utility orbs. They can provide heat for cooking, cool the temperature of a small space to preserve food, lock doors, and have a myriad of other applications. In short, they are the pillars of our very society. Everyone, without exception, can use Utility Magic,” he said, eyeing Vir.

“We suspect utility magic was invented by the gods for the layman. Their uses vary, but they all share one trait: they are universally weak. Because they were designed to be. Orbs of D grade consume one hundred times less prana than orbs of Grade C, which is where combat and affinity orbs begin. B Grade orbs consume ten times the prana of C. A Grade orbs consume ten times that of B.”

“Is that the highest grade?” Maiya asked.

“For you? Yes. Few people ever even lay eyes on an A grade orb. They are expensive and rare, and those who can wield them are even fewer still. But there is in fact one grade higher. Technically, two.”

Vir had heard rumors of A grade orbs that could create blizzards or summon down storms of lightning. His mind had a hard time imagining anything more powerful than that.

“S rank orbs belong to the domain of myth and legend. I have seen more combat than most men would in several lifetimes, yet I have never once seen S rank magic in use. Though I have read reports of tornadoes that can crumble Kin’jali walls and meteors raining from the sky with the power to wipe out entire villages.”

Vir gulped. He’d always thought of his fantasy meteor-summoning fantasy from the sky as just that: fantasy. To think a real spell existed that did exactly this… He wasn’t sure whether to jump for joy or to cower in terror. Probably the latter.

“And,” Maiya whispered. “There’s more?”

“Artifacts,” Riyan stated. “Lost magic from the Age of Gods, if you believe the stories. Each one is supposed to be unique, and apparently none of them have powers that even remotely resemble those of orbs. I say ‘apparently’ because they are objects of myth. I have never seen one in person.”

He paused and swept his gaze over his disciples.

“The Order of the Mejai Sorcar ranks its mejai according to how many orbs of a particular rank they can charge simultaneously. The more one can charge, and the higher the tier orb they can charge, the higher their title.And now, we have now come to the limit of what I understand of prana. This is all I can impart to you about magic.”

“But then, how am I gonna learn?” Maiya complained.

“I may not have the skills to train you, but I know of someone who can,” he said, getting up to leave. “Now, I have work to do. Your time is your own, but do not exert yourselves. The boy has yet to recover from his wounds.”

The Ghost of Godshollow packed up his precious orbs and retreated to his room, leaving Vir and Maiya alone in his opulent living room.

“Phew!” Maiya said. “That was a lot. I mean, it was all super interesting, but I can almost see the steam coming out of my head, y’know?” Maiya said, grabbing Vir’s hand. “C’mon! I found a spot nearby. Think you’re gonna like it. Oh, but let’s grab Neel first. He’d be sad if he missed out.”

I doubt he’s that smart, Vir thought, but he felt bad for the droopy eared bandy nevertheless.

She retrieved Neel from their bedroom and led them out of the abode and up to the summit of the hill that hid the house. On it was a lone, branchless tree, its many limbs gangly and gnarled.

“It isn’t as impressive as Rabbit Hill, and the tree’s not even big enough to climb, but the view’s pretty great, right?” Maiya said.

Neel predictably began running circles round the tree, as if it was the most fascinating thing in the world.

“It sure is,” Vir replied. From here, they had a three hundred sixty degree view of the surrounding hills and sand dunes. Vir suspected this spot was directly on top of their bedroom, idly wondering if there was a hidden trapdoor that led up here.

Maiya lied down and stared at the beautiful orange hues of the sky. “Looks like we just missed sunset. Won’t be long now before night falls.”

Vir’s burns hadn’t quite healed yet; large movements still caused him a great deal of discomfort. So he sat down beside her, trying to stay as still as possible. Neel joined them, resting his belly on the warm, comfortable sand.

“So much has changed lately,” Maiya said, gazing up at the sky, “Everything’s different now. Thought we could use a spot that felt a little familiar, y’know?”

“Tell me about it. This is a wonderful find, Maiya. I like it here. We should definitely visit more often.”

“I honestly can’t believe that just a week ago, my biggest worry was baking your birthday cake.”

Vir laughed.

Maiya propped herself on an elbow. “And now I’m living with some stranger. And I can’t even go back to mom and dad.”

“You can. Someday. I’ll never see Rudvik again.”

Neel sat up, expectantly searching for his old master upon hearing his name.

“I’m sorry, Vir, I didn’t mean to—”

“It’s fine, Maiya. I’ve made my peace with it,” Vir said, dismissing her concerns. “I’m gonna live my life the best way I can. That’s the only way I can do justice to father. Actually…”

“Yeah?”

“Maiya?”

“Yeah, Vir?”

“I… have something to tell you.”

“You know you can tell me anything, right?”

“I… I think I can see prana.”

Maiya bolted upright. “What!?” she shouted, causing Neel to startle and bark.

Vir’s mouth went into overdrive, startled at her reaction. “Ever since our encounter in the Godshollow, I’ve been seeing these colors. Except, they’re not really colors, but I don’t know how else to describe them. Anyway, they’ve been incredibly distracting. Sometimes I can barely even stand without falling over. But I’ve been noticing patterns to them, Maiya. Like, the colors inside Riyan’s body? ‘Brown’ and ‘White’. And Life Affinity orbs are white!”

“That’s… then what’s the brown? Life orbs are white, Lightning’s gold, Wind’s green, Water’s blue, Fire’s red, and Ice is… well, it looks like ice. Transparent. There’s no brown in there, Vir.”

Vir was puzzled by that too. “I know. I can see brown in rocks and things like that. Dunno what it means, exactly, but think about it. I see ‘green’ and ‘transparent’ within you. And ‘transparent’ is brighter. Maiya, I think you might have affinities for Ice and Wind!”

“No. No way. One of my affinities has to be Fire,” she said, panicking. “I’m sorry, but I don’t think you’re seeing what you think you’re seeing. Like, don’t you think it’d be a big deal if people could see others’ prana? You could tell immediately what affinities they had! That’d give you a huge advantage in a fight. Mejai all over the world would kill to have that kind of ability, Vir. Everybody would know about it!”

“Hmm… Yeah, maybe you’re right.”

She had a point. There weren’t any orbs of the ‘brown’ element. Not to mention the abyssal black inside his own body. What in Chala’s name was that?

Vir didn’t press the point. He needed more information before he could mount a compelling argument.

They fell silent after that, watching the colors of the sky give way to the stars that shined proudly. There was never much light in the sky at night, but from his vantage, with the sandy hills reflecting the starlight, he felt like he could see all the way to the horizon.

The two friends lay atop the sandy hill well after the night’s chill settled in, admiring the gorgeous night’s sky with Neel, who’d promptly nodded off. An hour passed before the cold finally got to them, forcing them to head back inside.

As they walked home, Vir made up his mind.

Tomorrow, he’d discover what these unknown colors he was seeing were really about.