12 Losing my Virginity

I take out a hunting knife and start skinning the wolves, cutting precisely around the limbs and head, and painstakingly removing the pelts. I then hoist the carcasses up on a tree to butcher later and set the pelts out on a rock to dry.

I spend the rest of the day on a break from my training while I get acquitted with my new animal companion, Floofy.

The dog quickly learns his fantastic new name and to responds to my calls whenever I whistle for him. I plan to train him well and am excited to see how big he will get once he's fully grown.

My theory that Floofy is an abnormally smart dog is further cemented by him learning all the simple commands like, sit, stay, come, and roll over in only a couple of minutes.

I take only look at the bloody and dirty white coat that Floofy previously reviced from his abusive overlords, and throughly wash my new pet in the stream. Afterwards, I can't help but run my hands through his silky white coat.

When the late afternoon comes around, I am faced with the problem of getting my dog up to the elevated cave, so I grab the wolf pelts and sew together a little doggy backpack.

Floofy seems fine with it, and rests comfortably on my back with his paws over my shoulders as I climb into the cave.

I plug up the crevice and light my little lamp. A few minutes after I am inside, rain starts flowing from the sky, and soon after at, thunder bellows, and a storm wails against the strong stone walls of my cave.

My barricade holds up, and we remain perfectly dry inside of the one room cave. I spend the night munching on nuts and berries that I have saved up from foraging, while practicing the guitar and flute, it's a cozy scene, and Floofy seems more relaxed in his new home after I start playing.

There are many perks of stronger internal mana, like better memory, energy, and obviously speed and strength, but I also need less sleep and food, so the next morning, despite getting no sleep, I am full of energy and ready to dive back into my training.

I have felt a small weakness in the metaphoric dam in my mind that is keeping me from developing the water mana technique I have in mind, and I plan on exploiting it.

I climb out and down from my clifftop abode and let my dog out to run and explore, as I know that he will come with a single whistle.

On the walk to the falls, my leather shoes and the bottom of my pants become soaked in the morning dew, and I see that many branches litter the ground: the results of last night's storm.

Over the course of my training at the waterfalls, I have progressed from the little trickle of water on my first day to the twenty-foot fall I am working on deflecting now.

My style of swordsmanship has also had drastic changes; while before it was straightforward, linear cuts, now it's like I am carving arcs in the air smoothly and endlessly.

The waterfalls don't stop after one slash, so my swordsmanship is ever-moving, each slash links to another, and another.

My footwork has also changed, as I've found it isn't enough to just swing with my arms, I need to put my whole body into my swings, and position my feet perfectly.

When I arrive at the waterfall I realize that it is much bigger than usual, due to the rain overflowing the rivers.

I utilize the Throngler to swing down onto a relatively flat rock in the middle of the waterfall, and begin my training.

My flickering slashes form a dome above my head, letting not even a drip of water through, but the pressure is more than I'm used to, and I pump more mana into my body and blade.

The danger of being pulverized in the sharp rocks below cause my mind to focus wholeheartedly on the task at hand.

Minutes turn into hours as I excruciatingly work away at the crack in the dam, I strain against the limits of the amount of mana I'm able to convert into water.

Night falls, and I continue my training, I know that if I stop now, I will lose a ton of progress, something I refuse to let happen.

My eyes burn due to the scarce few blinks I have allowed myself, and it feels like my skull is being slowly ripped apart from the intense concentration.

The only thing that keeps me going is that every slash, every movement of an exhausted muscle, takes a small chip off of that dam.

All through the night, I maintain the sphere of air in the middle of that waterfall, and in the morning, I am one swing away from breaking the dam.

I summon the remainder of my strength, pulling together the few bits of mana I have left, like a child scraping their bowl of ice cream with a spoon for every last bit, and I swing up.

The waterfall stops for a milisecond, as if considering whether or not to heed my wishes, then reluctantly concedes, flowing the opposite direction, up into the morning sunrise with a spray of mist.

An inexplicable sense of pleasure and satisfaction blooms in my chest, only comparable to when I lost my virginity, twenty years ago. (Fourth period. Boys bathroom. With Ms. Johnson, it was fantastic.)

It's the most beautiful thing I have ever seen.

Then of course, it comes crashing down on me, knocking me out, and sweeping me away into the flow of the river below.

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I wake up to a rough, warm sensation on my nose, and groggily open my eyes to see Floofy, licking my face.

I quickly sit up, my clothes have long since dryied, and my hair and skin in covered in sand.

Noticing some teethmarks on my tunic, I turn my attention to Floofy, and start euphoricly petting him.

"Floofy! You saved me! The bestest best boy with get extra meat tonight!"

I limp back to my cave, and somehow make the climb up before falling into a deep sleep.

I spend the next few weeks recovering, teaching Floofy new commands, practicing marksmanship and precision with the Throngler, before evaluating my water affinity.

The dam is gone! There is no more limit to the amount of water mana I can produce anymore.

I unsheathe my sturdy iron saber, which I luckily found caught on a branch downstream and try out my Demon Slayer water-breathing inspired technique.

It comes as easily as walking, with a simple flick of my wrist, my blade nimbly soars through the air, changing hues into a side variety of blues, a surging and sharp riptide slash flows through the air, it is both increably beautiful and terrifying deadly.

I smile is happiness at creating this new technique, yet this is not enough.

I intend to take my training to the biggest waterfall in the alcove, turning my gaze to the roaring monstrosity up the river, a grin sneaks its way across my face.