Chapter 22: Aura Sense (Patreon)

Zed put a little more effort in the posture for sensing aura. Oliver had already confirmed there was no point in sitting like a Buddhist monk, admitting to only trying to make him do it since he’d learned that way as well. Regardless, Zed opted for the position. He had been on the edge of something the first time. He had felt it twice now, and each time he tried to grab at it, it slipped from his reach. It was akin to seeing something at the edge of his vision only to find it absent once he turned to look at it.

So Zed sat with legs crossed, an uncomfortable Buddhist monk. He listened to the sound of the forest and the exasperated existence of all things living and dying. He heard the leaves rustle and the moonlight shine. He smelled the almost nonexistent coppery tang of blood from something dying too insignificantly to have a serious impact on the ecosystem.

Having done it more than once before, the process came to him like second nature. It was familiar and firm, arraigning itself to him like an invisible shawl. When the sensation he was seeking to reach for came to him, he was ready. It was so calm that Oliver’s rambling mantras of motherly love and the sound of the wind on a nightless sky—whatever that was—did nothing to disrupt his focus.

The soft cotton-like feel of it touched Zed first and crawled over him softly. It bore a touch of static that washed over him. Zed fought the urge to reach for it. He fought it because he feared reaching for it would leave the same result it had brought the first time. If he lost it now he would have to go again after recovering from the heavy drain it always left on him. However, it was not the only reason he left it. Somewhere in his unconscious mind a part of him remembered the effect of the last time he’d reached for it; the pain in his stomach; the long night groaning.

Zed tempered that fear with the motivation of being able to one day summon fire with nothing but the words of his mouth. The team had not said they would not teach him spellforms despite how difficult it was supposed to be for him. And while, he’d suspected the case, considering Oliver’s reaction to what Jason had done, Zed had a feeling he could talk the boy into teaching him a thing or two; showing him the way to spellforms even if he could not lead him directly to it. Nonetheless, there was a part of him that felt he needed to earn it. A part of him believed if he wanted to remain in the town and with them, then he needed to earn his keep. He needed to be the best he could be; an ally rather than a burden. And why would he want to remain despite what had been done to him in this brief outing? It was simple, what else could he do? Where else would he go?

He knew no one else and knew nowhere else.

Zed did not know how long he sat playing monk. It could have been minutes or even hours. It was certainly nothing too long because he could still feel the cool night breeze against his skin, a gentle touch of nature overshadowed by the sense of cobwebs gathering to him.

The sensation grew with each passing moment, gathering to him. It stacked upon itself until it was no longer just a feeling but a physical weight.

Then something changed.

Zed’s stomached fluttered, not like butterflies but more like gas, flatulence. He felt like he’d eaten the wrong things and his stomach was daring to revolt. It rumbled more and he tightened his rectum for fear of embarrassing himself.

While he fought against the threat of embarrassment, he fought against the now doubling physical weight of his found sensation. It grew to feel like having a heavy blanket draped over him, then doubled to having a soaked blanket draped over him.

He fought on two ends, a losing battle on both sides. And just when he thought it couldn’t get any worse, it did. He lost.

It wasn’t the defeat of a hard fought battle where he’d given his best, though he had had given his best, there was no doubt about that, but it didn’t feel that way. Whatever had just happened had taken a battle designed to be stretched across potential minutes and compressed it into something less than one. He’d lost without even getting the chance to revel in the battle and he slumped forward.

• You have expelled contaminated aura.
• You have gained better awareness of the world around      you.
• You have gained the ability to sense [Aura].
• You have gained a better understanding of [Mana]      manipulation.
• You have gained the ability to refine your mana.
• You have gained active skill [Refine].
• You now have access to [Exp] status and Aptitude point      allocations.

Zed read the notifications before falling forward, fatigued. He was fairly certain he’d soiled himself but couldn’t smell anything. It brought a thought to mind, and on reflex he looked up at Oliver through gasping breaths and found Oliver grinning to himself.

It seemed Oliver was under some level of misunderstanding again. Zed was certain not to dwell on it. His current curiosity was more important.

“H… hey,” his words came out throaty, and he breathed through it. “Do mages take dumps?”

Oliver’s grin froze on his face, then he started laughing.

“And you were so close,” he said, still laughing. “I guess, tomorrow’s another day. We still have enough time before we have to go back to town and I promise I’ll see what I can do to get you there before we get back. As for your question, what do you think?”

“Well, I know I haven’t taken a dump in, like, ever,” Zed said. “Haven’t had one since I met you guys. And I feel like I just took a dump, but there’s no smell.”

Oliver rushed to his feet and backed away from Zed.

“You did what?” he asked, alarmed.

“Oh stop your whining,” Zed said, waving him down. “There’s no smell.” He touched the back of his pants. “And there’s no stain. So you have nothing to worry about. Maybe it was just one massive fart. You know the kind; those ones that you think are farts but when you let them rip, they take a little dump with them. Nasty motherfuckers.”

“Zed,” Oliver said.

“Yes,” Zed answered.

“Did you just learn how to sense auras?”

“Yea,” Zed said, brows furrowed at Oliver in suspicion. “How do you know? Is it like an aura sense thing where you can sense people who can sense you. Because if it is, that’ll be kinda trippy.”

Oliver shook his head, chuckling.

“No,” he said. “Nothing that elaborate. It’s just that last time you couldn’t even string together enough words without panting like a dog. But now your stamina’s recovering very quickly.”

“I don’t see how that’s supposed to be related to aura sensing.”

“Well, it is. Aura sensing is like opening… No,” Oliver shook his head, “wrong example. Think of it like this, you have two nostrils, and not being able to sense aura is like breathing with only one. Being able to sense aura is like finally learning to breathe with the both of them.”

Zed thought about it for a moment then nodded.

“That makes sense,” he agreed. “But not why I should recover this quickly.”

“That part’s because aura sense is more like opening up your skin pores to the aura around you,” Oliver explained. “When you do that, your body starts absorbing ambient mana better while sensing the aura around you. It’s not really your skin pores but it’s the best example I can come up with to best explain it.”

Zed returned himself to the sensation he’d felt, the cobwebs and heavy blankets, and found they weren’t there anymore. What he felt now was the gentle touch of countless motes. It was like standing in a sea of transparent mist. He could see everything quite well and felt the warm touch of the mist all over him.

Around him, if he looked closely enough, focused his attention, he could see the motes about him, each one of different colors. Some were green, others blue, there was pink. From off in the distance where the others were cast in the orange glow of a camp fire red motes rose from the fire. It was easy to guess they were fire aura.

So this is aura, he thought. Not bad.

He returned his attention to Oliver. “I like this feeling.”

“Of course you do,” Oliver said. “Now let’s go show you to the others.”

Zed got up and dusted whatever clung to his pants from the ground. His hands knocked away stowaway pieces of leaves and grass and sand.

“Will I always get tired each time I try to sense auras?” he asked as they walked back.

“No,” Oliver answered. “It was like this just because you were learning to use an organ you’ve never used before.”

“Wait. There’s an organ in charge of sensing auras.”

“What?!” Oliver asked, confused. Realization passed his expression next and he shook his head. “No. Of course not. I was making an example. You don’t have an organ in charge of sensing aura. The only magical organ you have is a mana core and no one knows if that’s even a physical thing. I only spoke about organs to explain that you were tired because you were doing something you’ve never done before. Now that you know how to do it, before you know it, you’ll be doing it without thinking about it.”

“What about that part about absorbing ambient mana?”

“It’s not really easy to do but it helps regain mana… in a manner.”

“Isn’t that like infinite mana supply?” Zed asked.

“Not really,” Oliver said. “For instance, a water mage like Ash won’t be able to absorb fire aura, just water aura. Don’t get me wrong, there are different types of mana existing in ambient mana but it’s not like they are in equal levels. Like a burning building will have far more fire aura than any other kind. It will make it next to impossible to find water aura.”

“So the type of aura is important,” Zed mused. “A water mage does better around water aura, so they should try and absorb mana around water bodies.”

“Correct.”

“What of a mage that uses pure mana?”

“Never heard of a pure mage before,” Oliver said. “But the closest thing to that will be an awakened and they can’t absorb ambient mana.”

“So no pure mana specialization,” Zed noted. “What of raw mana?”

Oliver shook his head. “No such thing as a raw mana mage.”

Zed waited. Then waited. When Oliver didn’t expand on it, he continued.

“You aren’t going to give me an alternative?” he asked. “When I gave you pure mana you gave me the awakeneds.”

“Alright,” Oliver said. “There is such a thing as raw mana but it’s very deadly. And it’s only found in one place and one place only.”

Zed knew the answer even before Oliver said it.

“And that’s in a mana surge,” Oliver finished. “And it’s very deadly. I’ve said it twice for a reason.”

“And what makes it deadly?”

“From what I’ve heard, it’s like a parasite, draining the life out of everything it touches. Even the VHF still have a problem with it every now and again, and they’re supposed to be advanced in magical technology and research.”

“Oh,” Zed frowned. “Noted.”

He wondered how they would react if they found he actually had raw mana.

The only raw mana mage alive, he smiled slightly. The only living raw mage… no, that came out wrong. The only living… the only mage that uses raw mana. I guess I’m more impressive than I thought.

When he and Oliver got to the others, the camp fire was still alive, though it had begun to slowly dwindle. The others watched their approach until they got to them. There was a question in their gazes that Zed was more than willing to answer but wanted them to ask first.

When someone spoke, it was Ash, and she asked no questions. Instead she turned to the others.

“Alright,” she declared. “Cough it up. Pay what you owe.”

“But I didn’t even say anything,” Oliver protested, reaching into his pocket.

“You didn’t have to,” Ash said, snatching the money he removed from his pocket. “You have that face you make when you’re so proud of yourself for doing some stupid shit you’re not even supposed to take credit for.”

She reached around and took Chris’ and Jason’s money, too, with a satisfied smirk. She held it up to them and waved it.

“This will go to a good cause,” she said. “Something that will make me happy.”

“Hold up,” Zed said. “You all bet on me, again?”

“Yeah,” Chris said, frowning. “Jason bet we’d be home before you learnt how to sense aura, and I bet you’d die before you learned it.”

“That’s harsh,” Zed said. “It wasn’t even the point of the bet.”

“What can I say,” Chris shrugged. “I’m full of surprises.”

“I, however,” Ash said, slipping the money into her pants pocket, “bet you’d learn it within two days of recovery.”

Zed turned to Oliver.

“What of you?” he asked.

Oliver looked away, rubbing the back of his neck. “I bet you’d learn it on our way back.”

“You had no faith in me,” Zed scoffed in mock hurt. “And to think I called you sensei.”

Oliver reached across to pat him on the back.

“It’s alright, my young student,” he said. “I’ll be a better teacher from now on.”

Zed shrugged off his hand dramatically and turned away from him. “I can’t even look at you right now.”

Oliver’s response was a soft laugh and the rest of the team watched them with confused expressions. Zed thought he saw disappointment on Chris’ face. It didn’t matter, though. If he did see it correctly, then it was most definitely for Oliver.

“And that,” Ash said to herself, “is why none of us could’ve taught him.”

“And what are you so happy about?” Chris asked Oliver. “You lost the bet.”

“Yes,” Oliver said. “But I was still an Awakened when Ash taught me and it took me a week to learn it. Zed, over here, is a Beta. By all accounts it was supposed to take him longer since its harder for them to get the basics, but he did it in less time.”

“So?”

“So,” Oliver turned to Ash. “It only goes to show that I’m a better teacher than you.”

“Or Zed’s a better student than you,” Jason said absently, poking the fire with a twig.

“Or you were just a shitty student,” Chris added with a laugh.

“And how long did it take you to learn aura sense?” Oliver asked her.

Chris frowned and looked away.

“I thought so.”

“Fuck off,” Chris told him, then turned to Jason. “I take it we can leave this godforsaken forest now, right?”

Still poking the flames, Jason nodded.

“Good.” Chris sighed in relief. “I can finally go back to sleeping on a soft bed.”

“No,” Jason disagreed, disrupting her relief. “We still have enough time before we have to start going back, a few more days at the least.”

“To do what?” Chris asked, suspicious, then groaned. “I don’t like the look you have on your face right now, Jason.”

“What look?” Jason asked, surprised.

“It’s the look you get when you’re about to say we should do something we could simply not do. Usually, it always ends in us getting into some kind of trouble we could have totally avoided.”

“That’s totally not true.”

“It kind of is,” Oliver said.

“I don’t have ‘a look’,” Jason refuted.

“You do, actually,” Ash said. “It kinda looks like you’ve bitten into a spoilt apple and you suspect the man behind the stall sold it for ten rune-dollars when you could’ve gotten it for one.”

“That makes zero sense,” Zed said. “Shouldn’t he be angry he even bought a rotten apple in the first place?”

Chris opened her mouth to say what Zed suspected was something unpleasant but Ash beat her to it.

“He's got memory loss,” she said, as if it explained something. “He has no memory of what it was like in the early days after the second awakening.”

“Well,” Jason said, scattering the flames and dowsing all of them in the dark. “I don’t have a face. But you’re right, there is something I want to check out.”

There was a mild ripple in the aura around Zed as they stood in the darkness. A moment after, a small orb of light came alive between them, manifesting from nothing. It was the size of a bowling ball, translucent with lines of white thread-thin lines that stretched from its centre to touch its edges while soft motes of light hovered around it. It floated to rest above them, casting light around.

Zed marveled at the sight and how easily it had been created, his momentary realization that he could actually feel magic being cast, relegated.

“We’ve got time,” Jason told Chris, treating the orb of light as if its existence was normal. “And you said Abed told you the nest was already clear, right?”

“That’s right,” Chris said.

“But he refused to tell you who cleared it.”

“Also true. But that’s because some mages like to keep their activities secret,” Chris said. “You know how some mages are.”

“True,” Jason said, but his expression only deepened, whatever suspicion he had was not letting up. “But Abed’s usually very talkative when we're around.”

“True,” Ash agreed. “We’ve only met the guy three times and we already know his mother’s a fat woman who liked cuttlefish and Joe isn’t really a runemage, he just sells runes he’s been stealing from some old fool down in Hallow’sgrove.”

“Exactly,” Jason said, turning to one side of the forest. “Abed’s keeping secrets, and I’d very much like to find out what kinds of secrets a fat parrot thinks are important enough to keep.”

“Or dangerous enough,” Zed said.

Everyone except Jason turned aghast looks to him and he shrugged helplessly.

“What?” he said. “I’m just saying. The person you just described is the kind that’ll only keep a secret if spilling it would get him in the kind of trouble he can’t get himself out of.”

His argument seemed to make sense because their looks dissipated and they nodded in agreement.

“You know, Red,” Ash said, as they started walking. “For a redheaded jester with amnesia, you have quite the insight sometimes.”

“It’s not amnesia,” Zed muttered. “And my hair’s auburn not red. It’s a small but important difference.”

As they walked, something new piqued Zed’s interest and he forgot about hair colors or lack of memories, even the thought of an actual fat parrot eating crackers that he’d been thinking of was forgotten.

Skill: [Refine]

All mana is chaotic and willful, an instinctual being’s more so than a sentient being’s. To grow, you must first master the mana within you, temper it until it is a beautiful work of art or a well-crafted gun. Only then will you rise through the ranks.

• Effect: Refines [mana core].
• Effect: Consolidates acquired Exp.
• Effect: Attribute point allocation.