Chapter 3: Magic, Mana and Cultivation
The chapter wasn't as in depth as Baethor had hoped. It only covered the basics. In the broadest of definitions.
Mana is essentially chaotic energy in the multi-verse. The term 'Multi-verse' already caught him off guard, and proved many of the craziest physicists theories true. This energy could be absorbed and used to nourish your bones, and create a connection with this seemingly infinite mass of energy.
All things, whether they knew it or not, from all realities had Mana inside of them and needed it to exist. Most creatures, however, needed very little and it would pass under the nose of even the most sentient of creatures that didn't rely on it heavy enough.
Once one established an open channel with Mana, they could influence the free energy in their environment and manipulate it to their will. This would be called magic. Those who reinforced their body with Mana would be called Cultivators. Cultivators could express the same Magic with the Mana in their body.
Baethor had his lips curled inward and gently gnawing on them as he was reading. A small habit he had formed since he was child that apparently death couldn't break. His eyes swimming across the words unable to take in the information fast enough.
"Hmm.." He leaned back in his chair and stared blankly at the ceiling, his eyes unfixed. He released his lips with a sigh before ruffling his hair in frustration..
"I need 2 things... A symbol to absorb mana, which any symbol would do... And secondly a source to absorb Mana from.."
His lazy eyes returned to the book and flipped it to the last page. A beautiful decorated golden pen with a knife, instead of an ink-point, took up the page.
"Gently carve a symbol on your body..." He read aloud. "Then allow the symbol to absorb Mana from the pool.."
"I have to cut myself?!" Instantly a feeling of 'I think the fuck not' filled his body. He stood up and paced back in forth in the room, glancing between the bed and the pen.
'It's only a bit of pain.'
'But you hate pain' he countered
'This is necessary pain though, if I get through it, we could be a magician... A real magician, or have a super strong body like a superhero.'
'Fair 'Nuff' His brain had settled. Sitting back in the chair he stared at the golden knife with steeled resolve. At least, if someone didn't look at his eyes, which looked so tired he might fall asleep at any moment.
The second his fingers wrapped and pulled the pen, the once white page instantly seemed to become soaked with a black liquid. A liquid so dark it gave one the feeling of intense loneliness, and in Baethors eyes, the eternal slumber he had just left.
"Is this.. Mana?" He spoke, reaching forward to gently poke the liquid, yet nothing happened. At his touch the abyssal fluid created ripples of light that looked like stars, and reformed as quickly as jello. When he touched it a couple more times, and the same scene kept occurring, he eventually gave up on it and turned back to the pen.
'The book says any symbol will do... Does it need to be profound? Something like a Yin-Yang symbol?' He thought and just as quickly dismissed it. The most common thing a person would use is some form of religious symbol.. It'd quickly lose it's uniqueness. 'This is the time to make something specifically for me..'
Using his right hand he brought the 'Pen' to the palm of his left hand.
When he applied force, it felt comfortable, despite the blood coming out of his hand. All of that worrying was for naught. With a sigh of relief, he began to carve the lines of his palm on his left hand.
He was never very creative, but this was a surefire way to make sure that his symbol was unique, and the only one in all of existence. When the palm lines were carved completely, he rose from his chair and put his bleeding palm onto the abyssal liquid.
Writhing.
The liquid began to churn, like thousands of worms sprawling under dirt. Small tendrils rose from the page and gently worked their way up his arms.
'It's... Actually... Kind of cute?' He thought to himself yet in the next moment he screamed.
"Stop!!" His fear rose through his throat as he tried to stop the tendrils motions, which wrapped around his wrist and pulled his fore-arm into the black liquid, lurching him forward.
As hard as he struggled to free his wrist, legs straining, his free-arm pushing against the desk to break free... He couldn't. The Mana was clinging to his wrist like a newborn baby to it's mothers breast. There was no freedom, no way out.
His veins began to bulge outward against his skin, the soft blue color slowly being tainted with black. This was not a welcome change. The harder he struggled, however, the faster the ink poured into him and the harder the grip.
Finally, he realized, there was no pain. It was actually, kind of pleasant.
Baethor stared at his sunken arm and watched the page, which was once all black, slowly turning white from it's edges. His fore-arm was gently pushed from the Mana as it began to disappear, until finally, it was free.
A faint power was glowing within him. It felt as strong as his heart-beat, if he ignored it he wouldn't notice it. This feeling felt like it was always there, like it was always with him, and he had just never paid attention to it.
He stared at his left hand, and the now pure-black palm lines. A smile came across his lips, betraying the incredibly lazy eyes which never seemed to move. If anyone was watching him, they'd most certainly find it one of the most off-putting sights to see..
'I hope he never smiles around me' Latras thought to himself. The Coyote sitting satisfied that Baethor had made his choice, and taken the first step.. 'Now become proficient, so I may return to my lord with good news.'
His paw sat atop the table, next to the crystal display, drumming the amber claws across its surface. A small hum of happiness reverberating in the room.
Weekly Power Status
-- Power
Ranking 
-- Power
stone