"The Ancients, as we call them now, were a very advanced civilization. Even the weakest of them could easily take on several of our battlemages and defeat them with ease. Their understanding of the nature of magic was so far beyond ours that even now, we haven't even glimpsed what they knew."
"They were humanoid, or perhaps I should say that we look a bit like them. I say that, but old scripts claim they had wings, allowing them free flight. According to the same scriptures, they were taller than the average human. The centre of their civilisation is still unknown to us, but we do know that it has been reduced to ruins." He paused, then continued. "The Dragonkin have informed us about it."
Ren knew very little about the dragonkin. They were one of the most powerful sentient races, blessed with both powerful magic and strong bodies. There was a fragile truce between them and Arkon.
"The Ancients did not have children naturally like us humans. Instead, they created them using magic. Each youngling would apparently spend several hundreds of years in a cocoon. They only came out once their bodies were strong enough and the knowledge of their ancestors had been imprinted upon them."
"The younglings would be about the size of a 10-year-old human child, but posses a wealth of knowledge. A special ritual had to be performed to release them from the cocoon, though unfortunately the ritual was lost, along with their civilisation. Even if we somehow found a cocoon now, we would be unable to save the Ancient trapped inside."
Instructor Eron continued to talk about the in-depth effect of the Ancients on Arkon's history. While taking notes, Ren's heart felt heavy. A civilisation so advanced had been destroyed so easily. Their downfall was the result of their trust - the Dragonkin, Silkweavers, even humanity had taken advantage of them.
"They were hunted for their magic," Explained Instructor Eron. "They were captured for their enormous amount of mana. Their blood was useful for many rituals as even that was filled with mana. Naturally, their incredibly long lifespans didn't help much, as the captured ancients started to die, one by one. The remaining few free left their home, letting nature take over. It is rumoured that some cocoons survived, but even if they did, they'd be useless to us."
Only when Instructor Eron finished his words, Ren noticed he had been clenching his fist. Such a noble, magnificent race had faced such humiliation. To think they'd have been reduced to mere captives, tools to their owners – it was painful.
"Now then as for homework," Instructor Eron paused a moment, letting his gaze sweep across the classroom. To no one's surprise, it stopped on Ren. "I want a detailed report on their language and how it formed our runic scripts. You have until next week."
"Understood, Sir." Ren said with a low voice. His shoulders dropped as he remembered the other report he still hadn't finished.
"Good, class dismissed." With those words, Instructor Eron left the classroom.
Ren sighed. He had to go to the library to gather materials about the Ancients. He also wanted to find some books about wildmagic. "The Professors' class is cancelled, right?" He asked Aiden. The young noble nodded. "He didn't state a reason, but I believe it may have something to do with the culling."
Ren flinched; he had forgotten about that. "Right…" He took a deep breath. He couldn't afford to spend time worrying about that right now. He had two reports to finish. "I'll head to the library."
"Are you ok, Ren?" Mirielle asked with a worried voice.
"Yeah, I'm fine. I need to get to work, that report isn't going to write itself." He forced a smile and headed off. As he stepped outside the classroom, unfamiliar mana surrounded him. The crowded halls were filled with this chaotic mix of mana. He couldn't tell which colour belonged to who. As he walked through the halls, he constantly either felt cold or hot, sometimes is smelled sweet while other times it was unbearable.
When he finally reached the library and left the crowds behind, he exhaled in relief. Even after two weeks had passed, he hadn't gotten used to the sensation. He walked among the tall bookshelves, carefully scanning them for books about wildmagic and the Ancients.
His first find was a book about the first cases of mana pool dilution. He continued searching, and after only about an hour, found over ten books. He gave his name to the confused clerk, signed the form he was given and headed to his room.
As he stepped into the dormitory, he finally sighed in relief. The dorms were mostly empty, he could only sense the mana of a handful of people. He passed through the common room and headed to the stairs.
"Oh, Ren!" Lena's voice stopped him in his tracks. She was sitting on one of the couches towards the farther end of the room. Serana was with her too. As the young noble's hateful gaze followed him, he approached them. He shot a questioning gaze at Lena. "Is there something I can help you with?"
"Daymon stopped by, he said he'll be waiting in the infirmary." She glanced at Serana, who still hadn't said a word. "Sorry for all the trouble." She added with a guilty expression.
Ren shook his head. "Don't worry about it." He bowed at Serana, then headed up the stairs. Only when he entered his room and placed all the books on his desk did he let his mask fall, showing a dark, tired expression. He stood by the window and let his gaze wonder. After a few minutes, he finally took a deep breath and ran his finger through his hair. He didn't have anything to tie it with, so he just let it be for now.
He headed to the infirmary. It was still light out. If he hurried – and if Daymon didn't take too much of his time – he could maybe even finish the first draft of the report on wildmagic before it was time for dinner.
The infirmary was a lot less crowded than usual. In fact, Ren could only spot three people, other than himself. After a moment's hesitation, he approached Daymon's office. He knocked on the door, then entered when he heard Daymon's voice.
It was a large room. A small portion of it was divided by a curtain. Ren couldn't see what was behind it. The larger portion of the room was decorated quite nicely. Bookshelves lined the walls. A wooden desk and chair were placed right across the door. There was only a single, wide window with a nice view of the wooden area behind the main building.
Daymon was sitting at his desk, flipping through the pages of a book. When Ren entered the room, he lifted his head and a smile appeared on his face.
"Oh, you're here!" He quickly pushed the book aside and got up. "And you're in one piece, with no visible injuries." His smile brightened. "No way! Did you actually hold him off this time?"
Ren sighed and shook his head. "I'm nowhere near powerful enough to do that. We had a mock battle with Class II." He took a step back as Daymon walked around the desk and stopped right in front of him. "Daymon?"
He leaned forward and released his mana. Ren flinched. Daymon's mana surrounded him. It was cool – not icy cold like Princess Iris' – it reminded him of autumn nights, fresh and cool, with a hint of crimson in it, like falling leaves. "What are you doing?"
Daymon grinned and patted Ren's head. "Nothing."
Ren glared at him, only to be laughed at again. "Have a seat." Daymon said with a slightly more serious tone. He gestured towards his desk.
"I'd rather not," Ren said reaching for the door. "I have a lot of work to do, is there something you need from me?"
"As a matter of fact, yes." Daymon's sudden shift in tone caught Ren off guard. "Please, have a seat." His mana shifted and moved, carefully covering the walls and door. It fluctuated as the crimson became more apparent. Ren gasped as he realised it was a spell to block any sound from leaving the room.
"How?" Such spells were incredibly difficult to cast without having the proper inscriptions in place. The amount of mana required was enormous – it was apparent from the noticeable decrease in Daymon's mana too.
"I'd like to ask you the same thing. How did you know I cast a spell? In fact, how did you know I even released my mana?" Daymon calmly asked. He took his place behind the desk and gestured towards the other chair. Ren froze in place. He was careless. He had freely told Aiden, Lena, and the others about his mana sensitivity. He had forgotten about how rare it was and how vulnerable he would be against anyone with malicious intent.
He hesitated, then finally took the offered seat. What did the young man want? Why did he cast that spell? He reached for his sword, only to notice the crimson strings of mana wrapped to its hilt.
"I'd prefer if you didn't attack me. I'm not entirely confidant that I can defeat you." Ren laughed at Daymon's words. He was obviously lying; Ren had no chance against someone who had such precise control over their mana. He'd lose before he could even unsheathe his sword.
He took a deep breath, then slowly exhaled, trying to calm his mind. Daymon wasn't stupid, he wouldn't harm Ren in the middle of the infirmary.
"I'm very sensitive to mana – to the degree that I can't not sense it. I saw the form your mana took, the change in its colour, smell and intensity." He gestured to his sword. "That's how I know your mana is wrapped around the hilt of my sword."
Daymon's eyes widened. "You can… see it's colour?" His mana shifted, forming a blob in front of Ren's face. "What do you see?"
Ren hesitated. "Dark brown and orange, with a hint of crimson in it. It… smells of autumn. Like wet earth."
Stunned, Daymon shook his head. "You can smell my mana?" Ren nodded. He was told it was a rare condition, but nothing to warrant Daymon's reaction. "Would…you mind getting rid of this?" He glanced at the blob of mana. Being right in front of his face, it was blocking his view.
"O-oh sorry." The blob dispersed as Daymon sighed. "I knew you could sense mana, but this is more than that. I've known others who were sensitive to mana – they'd feel some mild pain whenever someone cast spells near them. I've never heard of mana having colour or smell though." He hesitated.
As he waited for Daymon to continue, Ren finally relaxed a little. It was clear that Daymon didn't have malicious intent – in fact, it was more likely that what drove him to act like he did was his own curiosity. Something Ren could at least respect.
"Is smell and colour the only way you can sense mana?"
Ren shook his head. "I can rarely feel its warmth. Yours is… cool. Like an autumn night." He paused. He had only told this to Yu and a few others before. He wasn't entirely comfortable telling him any of this. He nervously fiddled with a few strands of his hair.
"I've never heard of such an ability. It gives you an edge over nearly anyone you meet." Daymon paused. "Is that how you've been winning consistently against your classmates, even though you haven't been using your own magic at all?"
Ren flinched. "Well, a bit." He sighed. "My swordsmanship is usually enough to defeat most people." He touched his arm – Battlemage Warthorn's latest target. That particular injury had caused Battlemage Fiora an usual amount of mana to heal. "Not everyone though."
"I see." Daymon mumbled. His mana twirled and shifted. He was deep in thought. Ren hesitated, then finally gathered up the courage to ask. "What did you want from me?"
Daymon's eyes shone with glee. "Oh yeah!" He quickly got up and approached Ren. "Before, I really only wanted to figure out how you sensed my mana without using any spells." He leaned his back on the desk. "Now I want to learn more about your ability. To be able to sense mana like you do – it's what we truly need out there." He gestured to the northern wall of the room. It was clear he meant to point at the barrier. "You'd be the perfect scout, the perfect assassin to kill unaware monsters. If I could learn how you do it – and then replicate it – it would be a turning point in our battle with the outside." He looked at Ren with an expression of… curiosity.
"Don't lie." Ren calmly said. "You want to know more, that's why you want me to help you. You're curious."
"I-" Daymon paused. His expression darkened. "Perhaps. Is that wrong?" His mana flared crimson, like dry leaves burning as they fell.
"No." Ren finally smiled. A faint, tired smile. "Your mana is a lot more crimson now. Maybe because of how you feel." He gestured towards the strands of mana around him. "I'm fine with answering your questions as long as I'm able. Just… don't lie to me. Please."
Daymon's expression softened as he smiled. "It's a promise." He said with a grin. He leaned forward and patted Ren's head, shuffling his hair. "How about now? Is it still crimson?"
Ren pushed his hand away and sighed. "It's back to normal. Well," He hesitated. "It's warmer."
"What do you mean by 'normal'?" Daymon's curious expression – and his mana blocking the door – prevented Ren from cutting their conversation short. With a deep sigh, he started talking.
Hours later, Ren once again entered his room and collapsed on his bed. He was exhausted. The mental drain of holding a conversation with Daymon was immense. His throat was dry and sore. He coughed, forced himself to get up and drink some water. Glancing out the window, he shook his head. It was dark, the sun had set nearly an hour ago. He had missed dinner, though Daymon was kind enough to treat him to some food before he left.
His shoulders dropped as he his desk caught his eye. How was he going to finish both reports on time? With a hopeless sigh, he picked one of the books up and started reading, occasionally taking notes on the subject.
* * *
"You did WHAT?" Instructor Fiora's shout echoed in the empty infirmary. Daymon flinched. When she was angry, she was really scary. "You had no right or authority to question him like that! Not to mention-"She stopped herself at the last second, took a deep breath and slowly exhaled. "Don't investigate him or his ability any further." She turned to leave.
Daymon sprung up from his chair. "No way. This is beyond interesting, instructor. I can't just let this be. Besides, he already agreed to help me. It won't interfere with any of my- "
He suddenly shivered as the air grew colder. "I hereby order you, with my authority as the Eighth Battlemage – you will not meddle with this any further, Daymon Nirei." Instructor Fiora stared at him until he silently nodded. "Perfect." With that, she left his office. As soon as the door closed behind her, the temperature returned to normal.
"By the moon…" Daymon's knees finally gave out as he collapsed. He had never seen her act like that before – she had never used her authority as the Eighth. "But… why?" He whispered. What was going on with Ren's ability that she didn't want him to find out?
After a few minutes, he finally found the strength to stand up and head to his dorm room. Due to his position as Instructor Fiora's apprentice, he didn't share his room with anyone. Researching Ren's ability in the infirmary was out of the question but he wasn't about to let this chance slip away. He just had to make sure the Eighth wouldn't find out. The punishment of going against an official order from one of the Pillars of Arkon was… severe.
Once he entered his room, he quickly started taking notes on everything Ren told him earlier. A thought crossed his mind; he wondered, what could have Instructor Fiora's mana been like when she was angry earlier? He grinned – if Ren were there, he would have probably fainted from her power.
Hello everyone,
As always, thank you so much for your support!
I'm excited to announce that I have started publishing my submission for the Spirity Awards - The Soul Keeper. I'd mean the world to me if you checked it out!
Anyways, stay safe out there!