Rise CHAPTER 4 - I Know Who I Am (Patreon)

Jiran woke up with a start. Before even a single thought could surface, he was gripped by intense pain, as if thousands of needles pierced the flesh all over his body.

He waited in agony, hoping the sensations would relent as time passed. Instead, they ebbed and flowed with each breath. Alternating between torment so great he couldn't think, to a comparably lesser misery that was only just bearable.

So, it's my breathing. There must be something wrong with my muscular tissue if every action, even a breath, is this painful.

Huh?

What am I thinking about, what in the name of the Fathers is muscular tissue?

He knew the answer, of course he knew, he had always loved biology, knowing something as simple as muscular tissue shouldn’t be a surprise.

Wait, the Fathers? There are… three suns?

The realization forced his body to jerk and his eyes to open for the first time, which turned out to be a terrible idea. Pain flooded him in waves far stronger than before. He whimpered and snapped his eyes closed.

With shallow, rapid breaths, he forced his errant thoughts under control, lest they cause him another round of torturous misery.

This planet must have some crazy stellar orbit with the whole three-suns thing. Not relevant, I need to focus.

What is wrong with me? The last thing I remember is the Tiering Ritual. Something went wrong.

Did my mana alter my memories? That must be why I’m having all these weird thoughts.

Who was Brandon? He lived on in E—

The moment he attempted to recall something specific that was not a surface memory, pain radiated out from his neck and sliced through his head, halting his thoughts completely.

Ugh, this is so frustrating!

So I've got some surface level memories of Brandon, but trying to dig out anything specific is dangerous.

What else?

I'm different, I've never had such clear thoughts in my life. Just thinking back to yesterday I can picture the greedy gleam in Elder Mireg’s eyes. She wanted me to return that favor alright, likely sooner than later.

Marveling at the clarity and fluidity of his own thoughts, Jiran continued to analyze his crystal clear memories.

Skandor was pissed off that I took his meat, and those disciples of his are definitely going to start some trouble.

Can a few new memories really change someone this much?

My mana was… Holy freaking bananas I have magic! Actual honest to God magic.

Jiran began to hyperventilate, which immediately ramped his pain to eleven.

Slow down, slow down, keep calm. I don't exactly have any magic right now. Not even a drop. This sucks. A lot.

I was tiering, which was… rebuilding my body to handle more density and mana. In the middle of that, somehow I got access to these memories of being someone else, then all my mana went away.

So I was being rebuilt and something went wrong causing the tiering to stop. Like a surgeon walking away mid-surgery. But my whole body was changing all at once.

How am I even alive?

I need to see how bad this is, which means opening my eyes, which means more suck.

Okay, here I go, I got this.

After psyching himself up, Jiran slowly eased one eye open and then the other. Taking his time while moving helped with the pain. After staring at the ceiling for a few moments, he ever so slowly tried moving his left arm into view.

Excruciating agony ripped through him. Like an animal suddenly finding itself caught in a trap, instinct took control of his body. With a snarl he pushed through the pain and lifted his arm.

What he saw took his breath away.

Cracks ran through his skin in the tens of thousands. Where his flesh had moved, due to repositioning his arm, small amounts of blood and pus leaked from the myriad cracks.

https://imgur.com/q78c5br 

Jiran gently lowered his arm back to its resting position, then took several slow breaths to get his emotional state under control once more.

That is… not good. Yeah, I’ll go with not good.

If someone else could fix it, wouldn’t mother and father already have made them come do so? Where does that leave me?

I need to get more mana and finish tiering.

My status! That should show me what's wrong with my body.

Jiran closed his eyes, fervently praying that what he knew to be true, was not.

He strained his eyes, searching in the dark. But no matter how hard he looked, his stats were gone. There was no gold print, no numbers or letters. Nothing.

Tears leaked down his cracked and bloody cheeks.

Why is this bothering me so much? Brandon never had a status, which is weird, but beyond the point. I don’t need some magic words to tell me something is wrong and that I don’t have any mana.

If I get my mana back, then my stats should return too. I need to focus on that. Everything hinges upon my mana. Without it, I’ll die soon anyway.

It's strange that I’ve been lying here all night and don’t have a single drop of mana. That’s not how it's supposed to work.

I need to start from the beginning, figure out where the problem is and fix it.

Mana is converted density.

What do I know about density? Density is the world's voice… yeah that dogma crap mom preached at me isn't going to help right now.

Back to the basics then, density is mostly derived from beasts. We eat their meat and when that density enters our body, we slowly convert it to mana. The same goes for food grown by people who push their own mana into the plants.

So it comes from monsters? Nope, that's not right, well it is, but there has to be more. Our village walls have density packed into them, the houses, tools, rocks, and ocean water. Doesn't everything have some in small amounts?

So even the air should have some density. Of course it does, because it's almost densoon season when massive amounts of density flood the air, killing anything not strong enough to adapt to the influx of energy.

Testing his theory, Jiran took several long, deep, breaths. He paid as close attention to the air entering his lungs as possible.

Sure enough, he felt the smallest trickle of moving density enter him. It hovered in his lungs, the barest pinprick of a vibration. Over the course of several seconds, his body converted it to the warm, tender energy of mana.

Then almost instantly, it got whisked away into the black hole the rest of his mana had fled to.

Whatever that little speck of shit is, it's seriously pissing me off right now!

Wooh, breathe, breathe. Try again but hold the mana, don't let it get swallowed.

Time swiftly passed as Jiran tried again and again to hold the mana inside him. To force it to do what he wanted instead of getting sucked away. He pictured gripping it in a hand, pleading with it and even trying to guide it with mental commands, but nothing worked.

Taking a break, he thought back to all the times he saw his Uncle, the farmers, and his parents use mana while working.

What did they all have in common? They would always close their eyes and focus and chant while holding out their hands or a weapon. Mana would build from their chest outward, then travel to hands or tools or weapons then finally be released.

Okay, maybe mana control starts at the chest.

This time Jiran focused on his heart as he breathed. He searched for a connection, anything that responded to the trickle of density that flowed in with each breath.

But all he felt was frustration, pain, guilt, annoyance, and especially fear. All these emotions gripped his heart and tore at his mind. When the emotions reached a boiling point and threatened to overwhelm him again, he felt a flutter.

No more than the smallest swerve in the river of mana flowing out of him. With all his will he reached out and grasped that wiggling, delicate thread of control.

He let out a small gasp from the exertion, then clenched his jaws from the pain caused by the sudden breath. When the pain receded to a level where he could think again, a tiny grin spread across his lips.

Success!

What made the difference? Was it the emotions? What are emotions?

Emotions are chemicals the brain uses to communicate with the body. Nerves feed signals to the brain, then the brain releases chemicals and electrical signals to control the body.

Do I need to use the chemicals from my brain to control the mana? That seems far-fetched but I’ll try anything at this point, so here we go.

With a clear goal in mind, Jiran focused on his strongest feeling, desire. Desire to get healthy, to get his mana back. Desire to move freely, to run and jump. Desire to help his family, to repay the kindness shown to him by his uncle. Most of all, desire to live.

With emotions rampaging through his body, he focused on exactly what he wanted the mana to do.

Finish tiering my lungs. Repair the damaged cracks I feel with every breath. Make the tissue strong and durable enough to handle any amount of mana.

The trickle fought him like it had a life of its own but Jiran did not relent. He poured in every scrap of willpower he could find. He demanded the mana to obey him.

You're in my body!

You are mine!

You belong to me!

As if a switch had been flipped, the mana flowed. It coated a small space on the inside of his lungs. The soothing mana immediately went to work repairing the damaged tissue and easing his pain. It was just an inch, but a single inch of normal in an ocean of agony was more than enough to bring tears to his eyes.

https://imgur.com/eGLEvIz