First Taste

The night stretched on a little longer after that before Maman and Rennie left, bidding him goodnight. 

As the candles in his room went out, darkness fell upon the room. The translucent, dainty white moonlight flowed into the room like a white beam, bathing the room in a light glow.

Rumius lay in his sanctuary, laid with freshly washed sheets and fermented pillows looking up at the ceiling. The usual fatigue he usually felt at this hour was nowhere to be found. 

' Damn it's itchy.'

Sitting up, Rumius reached down and retrieved the five paper sheets from his pants with trembling hands, laying four of them out beside him and taking the first one in his hand. He had made sure to arrange the pages in chronological order from left to right so that he would know the order in which to read them.

The smile that came was uncontainable. His body was quivering.

Unfolding the sheets, Rumisu took a deep breath and breathed the first words printed in bold on the page.

" Foreword and the First Tome: I write this book in hopes that it finds you well. Dear reader, I am the Archmage Lict."

" Both for those who have heard of me and those who have not, I have dedicated a considerable part of my life to the research of magic. In this book, I hope that your thirst for magic can be satisfied by the decades of research and experience that I have put within."

" I warn you first that magic is a tool, a means to an end. If you wish to dedicate your life to magic like I have then I will not stop you but I pray you be prepared as I welcome you, whether novice or master. 

Rumius paused. His heart was pounding so hard that it was almost suffocating.

Rumius placed a hand on his chest and took a deep breath to calm himself. He turned the page over and continued reading.

" Magic is a system present upon this world since an age untold. As we use and know of it today, magic has unsurprisingly undergone a series of evolutions thanks to the efforts of scholars and sages through the ages."

" As of this writing, three systems of magic have been discovered. Elder speech is the oldest and most commonly used system which we will discover in this chapter. In the east, the elves have founded magic circles and in the south, there has been talk of magic that enables the formation of pacts between man and beast, a taming system if you will."

" However, before any magic can be used, a mage must first be able to manipulate his mana. This then begs the question, what is mana? "

" Mana is the energy that flows through all beings. It keeps us alive and connects us to the world beneath our feet. For most of us, mana flows through us in excess. We can draw upon this excess to then manifest miracles unto the world."

"Magic, as we know it."

" The first step to harnessing mana would be to be able to sense the mana dormant within you. It is important to look within yourself and hone your senses into your own body. It can be difficult since mana feels different for everyone."

" After you've learnt to harness mana, the next step would be to draw it out of your own body. This is.."

Rumius set the paper down, nearly through the second sheet already. He would take this slowly, a step at a time.

" Feel the mana within me." Rumius repeated. He felt somewhat incredulous.

' Feel the mana? What was that even supposed to feel like?'

Rumius was hit for a stunned moment by the thought that if he hadn't already been transmigrated to another world and had become the world's first flying baby, he would never have entertained such a thought. 

Rumius hesitantly bought his hands up, pressing one of them over the other and placing both over his chest. 

Rumius closed his eyes. 

A myriad of sounds rushed into his ears, amplified and clearer now that he focused on it. The rustling of the sheets, the seemingly distant howl of the wind outside, the flapping of the curtains in response.

Rumius didn't know when it started, but as he kept at it he eventually began taking the exercise seriously. These sounds faded, replaced by a steady beat. 

" Boom, Boom, Boom" it went, each strike sounding in perfect tempo. 

Eventually, this sound faded out as well, becoming softer until it was but a distant hum.

The only sound that remained was a steady intake of breath, in and out of his lungs.

But there was no strange feeling, no tingling sense nor any otherworldly, arcane sensation. 

But funnily enough, Rumius still kept at it. He wasn't sure why himself but he still persisted, continuing to fumble around in the darkness with a dogged determination, 

' Senses. Use them all.'

'Hear it….Feel it….Smell it.'

Rumius didn't know how long he stayed that way, hand over chest, kneeling and utterly silent. Even his breathing was almost imperceptible, leave for the tiny wisps of air that noiselessly drifted in and out of his nose.

He didn't know how long it took, but after a long tim of groping at the darkness, a strange sensation started to rise out of it.

Right in the middle of his chest, a small warm sensation spread outwards like a mini sun. It felt like nothing Rumius had ever experienced before. 

It was akin to relief of a sort but Rumius could feel that it transcended 'feelings' and 'sensations'. He imagined a lone traveler, lost in a raging blizzard that encompassed the snowy mountaintops upon which he trekked. 

The bitter, cold wind cut like blades, shredding him of warmth and feeling, draining his strength as every breath became increasingly labored. Puffs of smoke emerged from him at intervals, surviving only an instant in the merciless wind before too, being torn away.

The traveler stumbled upon a cave, dimly lit if only by a small flame, kept alive by small twigs of firewood but still burning bright. The cave sheltered the man from the storm outside as the small torch filled him with heat.

It was a small hope, a feeble beacon, but one that felt lifesaving and empowering.

Rumius hung ardently onto the feeling, afraid that he might lose it.

He willed it to become bigger, become hotter, to spread wider. He wanted to expand the feeling, to make it stronger.

Willpower poured in like a steady stream as Rumius offered his entire being to this strange flame. He offered everything to it, anything and everything he could give, not only to keep the flame alive, but to rebirth it as a fiery blaze.The ball became increasingly warmer, its influence spread out wider and wider in an expanding circle. 

' Even bigger, even bigger!'

The ball grew and grew.

' Even bigger! '

By the time Rumius realised what was going on, the ball of flame that was once but the size of a marble, was now a raging sphere whose heat could be felt across his entire bosom, its force undoubtedly multiplied a thousand fold. 

' I probably won't lose it again.' Rumius thought absently.

'Here would be a good place to stop.'

Rumius's senses relaxed slightly, then tensed up again.

' Maybe just a little longer.' He persisted, willing himself on.

' Just a bit longer.'

By the time he was truly done, he could feel the ball's heat even after he'd opened his eyes.

' Was that mana?' Rumius thought, still somewhat dazed. It all felt almost unreal.

' How can I know for sure?'

Rumius remained silent for a long time, contemplating the question.

' Oh well, I'll know by tomorrow.' 

He snorted.

' If it's still around then that means I'm either right or crazy.' 

Rumius reached out for the sheets of paper resting near his bed frame, intending to continue.

However, as he reached out, Rumius noticed a strange change in color to his shirt. The white sleeves were dyed an unusual color, much darker than it usually was.

Rumius realized that his entire body was somehow wet. His shirt and the sheets beneath him were drenched with fluid.

Reaching out for his sheets still, Rumius suddenly felt as if his arms were made of lead, flopping down beside him. Raising them were next to impossible, his muscles weren't responding at all,

The world suddenly felt a whole lot darker than usual. The wind felt stronger as well and everytime it blew past, a shover would run down Rumius's spine from the cold. 

Rumius collapsed on the bed. He could see the moonlight anymore, only the faint silhouette of some flat objects beside him.

 Rumius remembered world spinning before his eyes before all conveniently went black.