Drip-Fed – Fists and Fortune 7 – Internal Mana (Patreon)

In deepest night, in deepest thought, Apexus concentrated on his insides.

Literally, in part, as he was in a steady back and forth between attempting to channel his mana in the requested ways and trying to see if there was something physically wrong with the current layout of his body. The slime could not rule out that the way he composed himself, or the way he naturally was composed, did not lend itself to the way god-made humanoids functioned.

The theory had a large hole in it: humanoids weren’t the only beings that could learn different kinds of magic. A dragon’s magical cortex resided in his chest and that was not what sat at the mana reservoir of humanoids, even if it was functionally the same.

Apexus tried to find an issue within his body. Trying to chew nuts with canines would not yield worthwhile results. If it was his form that was the issue and he fixed his form, then the result would be instantaneous.

Most of the time, he tried to achieve his goal the proper way. The mana that flowed all through him, he had to condense it into certain lanes. All of the magical energy was unfocused. What magical circuits he had were in a purely dormant state. The only way to awaken them was by using them and the only way to use them was to gradually awaken them.

It would have been much simpler if there was something wrong with him that he could fix than to train slowly.

“Darling?” The slime heard the soft voice of the metal fairy and opened his eyes. Hovering in front of him, Aclysia gently settled down and presented him with a small wooden container. “You should eat. You won’t work well if you starve yourself.”

“I might work better,” Apexus confessed. A certain level of hunger helped him focus. After all the previous fasting, it had a ritualistic component to it. His body had been trained, his instincts subdued, when he was skipping out on meals, his will hardened. If Apexus had needed any proof that the monk training had benefits even in its purely mundane variant, that would have been it.

“Eat – for me.” Aclysia reached down and took his hand.

Taking the suggestion, he rose to his feet and then let her guide him outside. The temple was not a place to eat, not outside special occasions. It was a space of a spiritual aesthetic and eating was fundamentally worldly. To mix the two carelessly would have diminished the impact of either. Plus, it was an excuse for Aclysia to take her beloved for a walk.

Apexus knew he was wasting time, but he agreed to it anyway. Partly because he was stuck and mostly because he hadn’t seen any of his loves in almost sixteen hours. “Is everyone well?” he asked.

“They managed to calm me after Maltos delivered the news of your absence,” Aclysia reported. She had been furious and only minorly calmed down by the information that this time the isolation was not directly linked to starvation. “After Turlesh is cleansed from existence, I pray that we have time to live a simpler life.”

“That would be nice,” Apexus agreed. Distant were memories of when he felt free, only pursuing his own goals of the moment. “Do you think we can?”

“Four months will be short for the Church to establish their first line of defence, but past that they will be able to secure this or any other position we crossed. Apotho will know this and would not risk another one of his beasts in an attempt to track us.” Aclysia looked up to the stars and tried to spy among them the veins of this Leaf. To spot that which connected everything. “Powerful as he may be, he can only hope to beat the Church in specific engagements. To draw the ire of the holy worlds directly would be his certain doom.”

“If the Deathhounds are his only way of tracking us…”

“…then we will be safe,” she finished that thought for him. “We would be free, at least for a little while.”

Unspoken between them was that they would never truly be free of Apotho until he was dead or otherwise defeated. The Warlock was their responsibility, for one, and he might always find other ways to find them. Before Turlesh was dealt with, they would have to talk about what came after as the entire party.

Apexus took the food package from Aclysia after they were out of the temple grounds. They had circled less than a quarter of it, before the slime had emptied the entirety of the container into his unhinged jaw. The urge to return to training immediately was weaker than to stay with his beloved angel. “How do you use mana?” he asked suddenly.

“The answer… will not please you, darling,” Aclysia responded with a long sigh. “It would gratify me if I had helpful advice for you. However, I was created to wield magic, even to have the ability that other mages train for – to draw mana out of the air around me. This struggle is not one I can share with you.” As she said that, she grabbed his arm and hugged it as tightly as she could while they walked. “I deeply admire how you push yourself, I just wished it would not interfere with us.”

“It has to,” Apexus responded.

“Yes, sadly that is how time works,” Aclysia pouted, considering what one could do to change that. Not a whole lot, without pursuing that path in its entirety. “I am certain that the issue you are facing is not a physical one, darling. Easier would be, were it so.”

“Then there’s only the hard path,” the humanoid chimera stated. “That is fine.”

He stopped and lifted his beloved angel into a princess carry. Moth-like wings fluttered while she came to rest between his strong arms. Gladly, she held onto his neck and showered him with kisses. “Don’t walk too fast,” she pleaded.

“I will take measured steps,” he responded seriously. “How was the day with Pronthin?”

“Habitually frustrating, the time apart did nothing to change the man. He teased a new kind of spell, though he stated that it required us to prepare in other ways first.” Aclysia pushed her disdain for the man far away from her mind. “Our time together will be limited for the foreseeable future, let’s not converse about such frustrating topics.”

“What would you rather talk about?” Apexus asked. He was and remained a bad conversationalist. When Reysha was around, there was plenty to work on in terms of back and forth, but he and Aclysia did not have that kind of relationship. There was little to say between them, because they were both happy in each other’s silence.

“What do you think of the colour blue?” Aclysia asked after a minute of contemplation.

Apexus gave that some serious thought. “I don’t mind it,” he responded. “Why?”

“I deemed that worthy of knowing about you. What about green.”

The slime looked into her verdant eyes. “The most beautiful colour in the world.”

‘Frr-rr-rrr-rr-rrrr-t,‘ her wings vibrated at a high frequency, creating a very distinct sound. To please the metal fairy was easy for Apexus. Not exactly because Aclysia was easy to please, but because they were somehow perfect for each other. Above all things, the angel yearned for honesty and Apexus considered his words until they were what he meant to say. They had shaped each other to their liking over the years. Changes that both of them welcomed.

What they did not welcome was the temple entrance approaching with each stride of the tall slime. With no further words spoken, Apexus put Aclysia down. They shared a goodbye kiss and then she was off.

Since he had already moved, Apexus decided to occupy one of the small side-buildings for his remaining meditations, rather than the large main hall. He would have to move eventually, as the regular activities of the temple resumed. Better to be somewhere out of the way. The temple grounds had many rooms that were only used when a student occupied them for meditation or self-disciplining purposes.

Apexus found a small chamber, as far away from everything else as it could be, and settled down. There was nothing around to distract him. There was no furniture. The only entrance was the sliding door. ‘There is only the hard path forward,’ he reminded himself and concentrated on what lay within.

He concentrated on the magical cortex hidden in his hips. A hardened bud of semi-flexible, collagenous tissue. Where it sapped nutrients out of blood in a normal entity, transforming it into mana, the exchange within the slime was that of general energy into mana. In that, the cortex was dependent on the core. The nucleus of the slime, brain and heart in one organ, stored biomass as layers around the original core, which could be transformed into energy that fed the other organs of the evolving being.

The slime was an inherently magical being. His acidity was magical, the signals he used to move were magic, the growing, combining and coordination were all magical. All of that supernatural energy flowing around inside him, it was all dedicated to the work of his organs. It worked on a frequency that was different from what was required for the spells, skills and Martial Arts of adventurers.

The magical cortex transformed the magical energy in the slime into the correct kind of mana. Training it into an ‘active’ state was simple, constant, and mind-breaking labour.

Over and over again, Apexus had to deliberately gather magical energy in his magical cortex and then send it through the system. Each time, he felt a bit of the network rustling awake. It was a shock that went through a completely unused, underdeveloped system of connections that was less physical than embedded in his soul.

He gathered the magic again and again, trying to focus on the mundane task. It was like hollowing out a stone by letting water gather in the palms and then dropping it. Again and again, again and again, again and again and again.

It was dull even beyond the slime’s ability to endure.

Closing his eyes, he concentrated on his breathing. Drawing in the air and pushing it out, he used that to dictate the rhythm at which he progressed. In, to gather the power, out, to release it. Apexus visualized the magic cortex within him. The many layers, currently sitting together tightly, gradually opening like a lotus flower.

The paths of his mana circuitry extended from the flower like the branches of trees growing out. In a way, it was the Omniverse. Parasytes had something flower-like, Apexus had witnessed that first-hand. A tree rooted in a flower, nourished by what it drew from the world around it, that was the Omniverse inside him.

The magic spread through thin branches. With each breath, they grew a tiny bit thicker. Became a tiny bit more capable of holding magic without his constant care and attention. As the breaths counted the seconds, the seconds turned into minutes, minutes into hours, hours into days. Like a person regaining control over their legs, he barely walked at all at first. Then he could walk for some time. Then he could walk almost an hour. Two hours. Three hours. Finally, he never had to stop walking.

The mana circuitry formed and reformed. A sign of it was everywhere. Then, Apexus concentrated on specific paths. From the cortex to his thighs. Down to his knees. From his knees, to his ankles. Into his toes. Then, up his chest, from the cortex. The distance was too large for direct connection. Points were created naturally, asymmetrically, working with the layout of his muscles and his other organs. Knots energy, as required as they were potentially vulnerable, on their way to his shoulders. His neck. The paths spread out, through his bicep, to his elbow joint. To his hands. To his fingers. Each digit was its own work. The energy tingled.

It was the hard way, but the meditative visualization was potent. Apexus’ consciousness was locked away deep in his care. Where there should have been only darkness, there was control. He was tending his own tree, from his own flower.

Then, when he had cultivated the last branch, and had made certain that he could send the magical energy all the way from his cortex to his eyes, he opened them.

In front of him, in the chamber, lay a fresh meal and a piece of paper. Multiple messages had been scribbled on it, from multiple hands, at multiple times. They were encouraging, joking, and longing, the hands they were written in giving away who had left what behind. In the depths of his meditation, the slime had missed all of them. The only times he had snapped out was when the hunger had become too much and each time, he had found a sizable meal waiting for him in the room.

Apexus was famished, but he refused to eat before he had read every last message. He pressed the paper signed by his loves against his chest. ‘I will see you today,’ he thought, before allowing his hunger to take over.

After the meal, he reported to Maltos.

The first week of training was over.