Failure and resolution

Following a lengthy discussion of what magic and, by extension, mana are, Atram attempted to demonstrate the flow of energy in Elsa's body by enveloping her in his own ki and running it through her body in slow, deliberate movements. She initially felt the now-familiar tingling sensation, but as time went on and Atram kept channeling with increased intensity, Elsa began to feel a warmth spreading throughout her body that gradually led to a dreadful discomfort.

She tried to focus on her breathing and maintain her composure at first, but the sensation was overwhelming, and instead of the usual energizing relief, it left her exhausted and with a head-splitting headache. After realizing the error of his ways, Atram immediately stopped channeling, and to Elsa's relief, the pain subsided. She took a few deep breaths, and while doing so, explained that it simply felt 'wrong', akin to countless needles pricking her brain.

Further contemplation of the issue at hand led to Atram's obvious conclusion. While ki and mana are empowered by one's own will and can be further developed by diligent practice, they are fundamentally different in nature.

The former is an internal source of energy; it is the crystallization of vitality, which can only be obtained by those who have surpassed their bodies' physical limitations through rigorous training and discipline.

The latter, on the other hand, is an external metaphysical energy that is drawn from the surrounding environment and it's the ethereal manifestation of one's arcane potential and mental prowess.

As Atram had demonstrated, a ki user can theoretically become a mage, and vice versa. Inspired by this, he attempted to provide a hint as to how she could harness her own magical abilities through the art of ki manipulation. However, in his enthusiasm, he overlooked a crucial detail: Elsa was a Source, a vessel inherently infused with arcane energy.

Therefore, this prolonged exposure to his vital energy brought unintended but predictable consequences. When these two energies collided, it became a "cat and dog" situation, with neither party willing to back down. With them battling for dominance, her body and, more importantly, her mind reacted violently.

Simply put, a person cannot have both running through their body for extended periods of time because they are inherently incompatible. It's like trying to mix oil and water; they simply don't blend.

With the appropriate apologies and acknowledgments made, the party decided to continue onward, with Elsa taking the front seat on Atram's saddle. Despite the harshness of their training regime, it would be inhumane to give her further instructions for the day. This decision proved prudent, as she swiftly found comfort in the gentle rhythm of the horse's stride. Leaning back, she nestled into Atram's sturdy frame, using his vest as an additional shield against the afternoon chill.

Hours passed as they rode through the rolling hills and verdant woods. Due to their previous rest being a long one, they wouldn't reach Shaerrawedd today, so they decided to make camp for the night.

"She must have been exhausted. Be it howling winds or the rustling sounds of the forest, she slept through it all," Geralt remarked, gesturing towards Elsa, who was softly snoring in her slumber.

Atram muffled a chuckle. "You can say that again! I'm sore all over from standing still for so long. Wake up, princess; your royal cushion can't bear the 'weight' of your dreams forever," he joked, gently shaking Elsa's shoulder.

Elsa stirred from her slumber, rubbing her eyes and stretching like a she-cat. "Sorry, must have dozed off," she yawned.

Atram rolled his eyes. "Of course you did, and how!" he exclaimed as he dismounted from his horse. His legs nearly buckled upon touching the solid ground. He flexed his body and stretched his arms upward, sensation flooding back into his muscles. 

"Ahhh, that hits the spot," he sighed contentedly

"I am sorry, did I..."

"Turn me into a glorified bed warmer? Indeed you did. It was quite the spectacle! You were mumbling in your sleep, tossing and turning as you searched for a comfortable spot. You even dribbled a bit," he chuckled softly, his eyes sparkling with mischief.

Elsa's cheeks flushed with embarrassment as she attempted to laugh it off. "Well, I suppose I was truly exhausted," she conceded, a sheepish grin spreading across her face. "And just to clarify... I don't drool."

Atram turned to Geralt, who observed the exchange with amusement. "Did she?"

Regrettably for Elsa, her hopes were dashed. "It pains me to admit it, but Atram's correct on this one," Geralt affirmed matter-of-factly.

"You are both uncouth and uncivilized," Elsa declared, her lips forming a childish pout. "But I suppose that's what makes you both so endearing." She let out a small laugh, trying to sweep her shame under the rug.

Atram smirked, clearly pleased with himself, while Geralt simply shrugged and smiled.

They set up their bedrolls and started a fire. Eating whatever provisions each had, Geralt and Atram discussed their plants for the next day and reminisced about past adventures. Elsa was listening quietly to their conversation, her eyes flickering between the dancing flames and them. Despite what people said, she had always admired their profession but also envied their freedom. They could roam the land without any ties or responsibilities, meet new people every day, enjoy the simple pleasures of life, and make memories that would last a lifetime. While she would have to marry, bear children , and tend to a household.

Lost in contemplation, Elsa couldn't shake the curiosity of what it would be like to join their ranks. She had never laid eyes on a monster, and the prospect of facing one stirred both excitement and dread within her. Yet, the harsh truth of reality loomed overhead. She understood that the likelihood of them welcoming her into their fold was slim, given her youth and lack of experience.

But she couldn't help but dream of the adventures they must have had, their untold battles and treasures unearthed. During their brief journey together, emboldened by their stories, she spent many an hour envisioning herself as a fearless warrior, wielding a sword and shield against the hordes of monstrous creatures that plagued their world.

Suddenly, a thought came to her mind. There is a way! Certainly, I know nothing about swordsmanship, nor do I have the physique to fell titans. But... She looked down at her smooth, uncalloused hands, realizing she had been given a gift—a rare one, if Atram's words held true.

Elsa lifted her head with renewed determination in her eyes. "Atram, i know that what we attempted today ended up in failure," she began, "Nevertheless, I want to learn how to harness my... mana. Is there no other way that I can achieve this without risking my life?" she requested pleadingly.

Atram lifted an eyebrow at her, impressed by her tenacity and determination. "There is always a way," he replied, his voice calm and reassuring. "What I tried was simply a shortcut, and it backfired miserably. So, we'll have to do it the hard way." He paused, studying her closely. "Every sorcerer has a knack for a specific type of magic, and yours, without a doubt, lies with water-ice magic."

Her body twitched at his words. "Is it because of my..."

"Conduit moment? For you, yes. If you were a regular mage, it could have been anything, and it wouldn't matter," Atram remarked, pausing to gather a handful of snow. "You're lucky; your element is literally everywhere. Water is in the air, in the ground, and in every living thing."

He placed the snow in her hands. The puffy cloud of whiteness began to melt, turning into a small puddle of water. "See? Water is adaptable; it can take any form and change with ease. Formless yet powerful, shapeless yet essential, vital for all, and abundant in nature," he explained.

She listened intently, captivated by his words.

"To my knowldge, there are three stages to an element's mastery." He held up his hand and began counting by lifting his fingers. "First is understanding the element's properties and characteristics. You must observe it closely and analyze its behavior under different conditions. The deeper your knowledge, the easier it will become to tame it."

He raised a second finger. "Secondly, you must acquire the skill to manipulate water and ice already present. This entails refining your command over it, as well as your capacity to mold and maneuver it swiftly."

Lifting a third finger, he added, "The third and final step is creation. This is where you will truly become a master of your sorcery. You must learn to conjure it up from thin air, to create it from nothing but your own mana reserves. This requires a deep understanding of the fundamental properties of the element."

A faint smile flashed on his lips. "To quote a very dear but annoying friend of mine," he resumed, his tone lightening, "'Fire is my friend, an ally in my time of need, a companion that keeps me warm, and a lover that ignites my passion.'" Atram noticed her shifting eyebrow. "Don't look at me like that! I know she is touched in the head, but she is the best pyromancer I know," he concluded, coughing lightly in embarrassment.

Elsa seemed absorbed by his words, while Geralt considered them with more reluctance. 'I doubt that taming an element is that simple,' he thought, recalling the difficulties Ciri had faced in mastering even the simplest spells. 'But his world is certainly more advanced in it and he seems to know his stuff. Hmmm.'

The fire cracked and popped, casting flickering shadows around them. As they sat in silence, lost in their own thoughts, Elsa spoke up. "Alright, how do I start?" 

Atram shrugged helplessly. "That is the problem. Sorcerers can't be taught how to use their powers, Elsa. It's something that comes from within." Elsa sighed, her spirits sinking with discouragement. "I don't even know where to start," she whined, her voice barely audible.

Atram placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. "Baby steps. First comes understanding, and the only way to do it is through practice and dedication. Don't worry; using your affinity is as simple as breathing for your lot. Do you think Geralt became a master swordsman overnight?"

Elsa shook her head. "Nothing ventured, nothing gained," she said with a determined tone.

The men nodded in approval.

As their conversation drew to a close, they bid each other goodnight and settled in for the night.

The following morning, they awoke early and efficiently packed their belongings. Continuing their journey through the dense forest, they followed a winding path that led deeper into the wilderness and onward to Shaerrawedd.

Elsa was growing accustomed to the constant running; she effortlessly vaulted over fallen logs and skillfully dodged low-hanging branches. Though her breathing was labored, it remained steady and controlled. Yet, her attention was drawn to the icy patches scattered across the forest floor. Despite attempting to focus on the frigid morning air, the occasional snowflake, and the glistening droplets of water clinging to the tree branches, her mind kept returning to the treacherous terrain. Undeterred by initial setbacks, she persisted until achieving a state of complete mindfulness.

Unfortunately, said state didn't last long as the men in front reined in their horses, causing her to nearly collide with Roach's rump.

"What... why..." Her words emerged in a jumble as she struggled to regain her balance and catch her breath.

As she glanced up, the seriousness etched on their faces caught her attention. Geralt tilted his head upward and sniffed the air like a hound. After a moment's pause, he scanned their surroundings. "Mmm, old wagon tracks," he murmured, "broken branches on the trees, and a faint scent of blood."

A sudden gust of wind carried forth a thick, putrid smell, causing Elsa to gag. Despite her experience as an apothecary, she found this odor particularly unsettling. She glanced up at the broken branches and downed the knot in her throat as her mind raced with possibilities.

"What's that smell?"

Atram turned around, his expression grim. "That, my dear girl, is how death smells."