บท 15: Mana

The silver light of the moon spilled into the room through a narrow window, casting a faint, ghostly glow across Alex's resting face. His eyelids fluttered open, and for a moment, he lay still, staring at the fractured light that painted the rough stone floor. The silence of the night pressed around him, a tranquil veil of calm that belied the deep ache pulsing in his body.

Slowly, Alex pushed himself upright, his movements deliberate and measured as soreness shot through his limbs. His feet met the cool stone floor, a sharp reminder of the weight of his injuries. He shuffled toward the window, leaning against the wall for support as he gazed outside. The world beyond was vast and dark, stars scattered across the sky like shattered glass, while shadowed silhouettes of trees swayed gently in the breeze.

The creak of the door broke the stillness, and Alex turned his head sharply. Lyra stood in the doorway, the faint moonlight catching the edge of her frame.

"You're awake," she said quietly, her voice softer than before, almost thoughtful. "Grandpa came back. He said you can meet him now."

Alex regarded her for a moment, then nodded. "I'm fine," he replied, his voice rough but steady. "Just needed a moment to think."

Without another word, Lyra motioned for him to follow. He trailed her through the dimly lit hallway, the air carrying a faint trace of herbs and earth. They entered another room, its space larger but equally austere.

In the center of the room sat an old man—Maren. His presence was unassuming but not weak; his movements deliberate, his demeanor calm. His white hair fell past his shoulders in uneven waves, and his gray eyes carried an unsettling clarity, as if they had seen too much and yet not enough. He was dressed in simple, practical clothing, its fabric worn but clean, and his rough hands spoke of both toil and precision.

Maren looked up from a table cluttered with vials and herbs, his gaze meeting Alex's with a quiet intensity. "So, the boy wakes," he said, his tone mild but with an edge of curiosity.

"Alex," the boy said, inclining his head slightly.

"Maren," the older man replied, nodding. "Lyra told me a bit about you, though I'd rather hear the details myself. But before that—how do you feel?"

"Better than I should," Alex admitted. "Thanks to you."

Maren leaned back slightly, observing him. "A fall like yours would have killed most. You're fortunate, though I'm not sure if that luck extends beyond surviving."

"Luck," Alex murmured, his lips curling into a faint, humorless smile. "That's one word for it."

Lyra leaned against the wall, arms crossed as she observed their exchange. Maren's gaze didn't waver as he spoke again. "Your injuries were extensive, but you healed quickly. Tell me, Alex, are you attuned to mana?"

The question caught Alex off guard. His eyes narrowed as he considered how much to reveal. "I… think so," he admitted cautiously. "But I don't know much about it."

Maren nodded thoughtfully. "That explains it. Your recovery isn't just a testament to your resilience—it's your mana at work, even if unconsciously."

"Then I need to understand it," Alex said, his voice firm despite the lingering exhaustion in his body. "Everything. Mana, cores, magic—whatever it takes to fix what's wrong with me."

Maren's expression didn't shift, but his sharp eyes seemed to pierce through Alex's resolve. "And what makes you think something is wrong?"

Alex hesitated, then said, "My mana core. It's… growing too fast. Too much."

At this, Maren's gaze grew heavier, his brow furrowing slightly. "Sit," he said simply, gesturing to the chair opposite him.

Alex obeyed, settling into the creaking chair as Maren began to speak.

"Mana is the lifeblood of this world," Maren began, his voice low but commanding. "It flows through every living thing, an ancient energy tied to creation itself. For magicians, mana is not just a tool—it is the essence of their power. And at the center of it all lies the mana core."

Alex leaned forward, his interest piqued.

"What's a mana core?" Alex asked, eager to learn more.

Maren said, his tone shifting to one of importance. "Mana core is a reservoir of mana within an individual. Think of it as a wellspring; it stores mana and releases it when needed. The capacity of your mana core determines how much magic you can wield and how powerful that magic can be."

"Mana capacity is the amount of mana your core can hold and use at any given time," Maren explained. "A larger capacity means you can perform more powerful spells and sustain them for longer periods. If your mana core is strong, you'll be able to access more mana, enabling you to manipulate it more effectively."

He continued, "Typically, magicians start with a small capacity which is initial and can increase it by breaking through the ranks that are like walls in front of us. There are a total of nine ranks and five sub ranks which is initial, low, mid, upper, peak; these are all that one can achieve in their journey. Each rank represents a significant leap in understanding and control over mana."

Maren paused, allowing the weight of his words to settle in. "When you begin, you're at the initial rank, which is more about discovering your connection to mana and learning the basics of manipulation. As you progress, each rank requires a lot of effort to breakthrough into another higher rank."

"The growth of your core is tied to your will. Your will acts as a mold, shaping and containing your mana. Without control, your core becomes unstable, and its expansion threatens your very existence."

He leaned forward slightly, the weight of his words settling like stone. "You must compress it. Your core needs to be forced back to its foundation—a small, dense form, no larger than a marble. Only then can you safely allow it to grow again."

He paused for a moment, carefully choosing his words. "Think of your mana core like a rubber ball. The first step is learning to control your will. Will is a force within your body, almost like a second soul. To progress in ranks, you need to use your will to reshape the mana core, compressing it back to the size of a marble. That's when you'll advance. I'm only at the middle stage of Rank 3, and it took a lot of effort to get here. For you, it might take around five to 7 years to reach my level, but I can't say for sure. Either way, good luck."

"Okay, I understand. Thank you for teaching me," Alex said, nodding.

After a brief moment of silence, Alex excused himself. "I think I'll head back to the room now," he said, standing up from his chair.

Maren nodded, a faint smile on his face as he returned to his work. "Rest well, Alex."

Alex stepped out of the small, dimly lit room, the hallway bathed in the soft glow of the moonlight streaming through the windows. The quietness of the house surrounded him, the air carrying a hint of warmth despite the night chill.

He made his way back to his room, the echoes of his footsteps softly reverberating against the stone walls. As he reached his door, he paused for a moment, taking a deep breath. The sense of peace he found in this place was reassuring, a stark contrast to the chaos he had experienced before.

Pushing the door open, Alex stepped inside. The room was just as he had left it—simple and unadorned. He moved to the cot as he settled back onto the cot, exhaustion began to wash over him. He closed his eyes, letting the quietness envelop him, the rhythmic sound of his own breathing lulling him into a calm state.