Success with Thorn

Val had been practicing his sword techniques for an hour, trying to refine each strike. He was improving, but the images and memories of Valor's efficiency with the blade made him feel he was still a ways off. He needed his form to be tighter, transitions needed to be made faster, his arms and feet needed to move in closer unity.

"Sigh, of all things, a sword. Versatile sure, but too many variations to work with." Grumbling to himself, he sheathed his blade and started to stretch. The smaller muscles and ligaments around his joints were particularly numb from exertion, the blade demanded a little more flexibility than he currently possessed, now that strength and endurance were smaller problems.

Seeing Val had taken a break, Karl wandered over.

"You are taking to the sword quite well, boy." Karl was nearly beaming, but Val was unsure why.

"Yeah? I've been learning a bit from Valor, though he's a real piece of work with his methods." Remembering the non-stop combination of sparring interwoven with instruction, leaving not even a moment for him to properly think and make the corrections had him grumbling under his breath again.

Karl chuckled. "That sounds like him, 'It is faster to carve it into your flesh and beat it into your bones than to teach.' He was particularly fond of that method. His 'students' would typically return from his sessions with cuts, bruises, and fractured bones. Most of their scars were from his training, not from battle. They would later claim they received the scars in war, but beneath the bravado, I am sure they were grateful for the truth behind it. Fortunately, you won't receive lasting wounds from his tutelage."

Val grunted, not denying the truth but still expressing his displeasure.

"I take it he is doing well then?" Karl looked a bit serious as he asked.

"He is, as far as I can tell. Perhaps bored, if anything."

"That is good. Boredom relieved only though vigorous combat sounds like him. Stew is nearly done, hungry?"

"More deer stew?" Val smiled wryly.

Karl appeared taken aback. "What, do you not like deer?"

"No, no, I'm starving." The two returned to the now healthy fire, fed with a mix of dried firewood and thick, gnarled tree roots.

Val noticed the elf was not in the camp, but a third tent had been pitched, where Karl had gotten the tent, among pretty much everything else he had produced, remained a mystery.

"She has gone to bathe down by the stream." Muninn answered the question in his searching gaze.

"Ah, yes, she will return shortly, I can wait if you would like to go take a peek." It was entirely unclear to him if Karl was joking.

"Dirty old man, no thank you." Val rolled his eyes as he took a seat and an offered bowl of stew.

"Are you sure? I recall Elven beauty was a proper sight to behold for the men of the old empires. They remain youthful for centuries; many young men like yourself studied magic for little else than to be sent to study under them." Karl was nearly breaking out into fits of laughter, probably recalling other antics and pranks he had gotten up to in the past.

"I'm sure, I'm more interested in the term you referenced. What is a 'Wind Dancer'?" Val asked curiously while wolfing down stew.

"Hmm, better, you see it for yourself, but they are one of the magically aligned warrior factions among the elves. They align themselves with wind spirits in the natural world. They grant them a significant degree of control over the manipulation of the air." Karl was holding a mug of wine, thinking carefully about his words.

"Isn't that normally doable anyway with magic?" Val set his bowl down and held out his hands. It did not take much effort now as it did before to manipulate the air before him. In a moment, a soft rustling sound could be heard as the wind swirled around in a globe the size of a basketball.

"It is different; magic will respond to your will, and thus, you can manipulate air currents as well. However, through these spirits who are tightly bound to this element of the natural world, they can exert their will with a much greater scale and intensity. With the effort it took you to create a swirling gust in your hands, they might create a gale that topples trees and moves boulders. There are runes you can use to achieve the same effect, but the flexibility is not nearly the same. Runes serve as a mold for your magic, a pure, focused power. The runes define your desired effect, you need only pour in your magic, you need not focus so much on the details, but this comes at a cost in the flexibility of use. You may think of runes as a form of a magic template, where normally you would cast magic from your own manifested intent."

The difference pointed out to Val seemed incredible, but it did not sound like Karl was suggesting one was greater than the other.

"I'm guessing there's a downside to relying on spirits." Val raised a questioning eyebrow to the old man.

"Ha, indeed. They can be whimsical at times, and they must be present to properly leverage their power. In short, it is borrowed power, typically one who practices spirit-based magic of this form will outgrow their use, calling on their strength when readily available, but otherwise relying on their own. Still, do not underestimate them, I wholly support you following your youthful desires, but a Wind Dancer in such a rich natural environment can be a terrifying sight to behold." Karl chuckled, casting a mischievous look to him.

"Still, pass." Val helped himself to a second serving of stew.

To his slight alarm, the elf had returned at that moment, taking an empty seat offered by the fire. Karl generously served her a bowl of stew, which she accepted with a small word of thanks. The alarming part, though, was Val, despite his improved senses, did not hear her approach.

How the hell…? It's grass and twigs all around.

Karl seemed to notice his reaction but just chuckled as if expecting it.

Val tried to keep to himself, though he could not help stealing sidelong glances at the fantastical figure a few feet away. She had discarded her cloak in the tent provided for her, but he was focused on the nearly foot-long, thin, knife-like ears. Memories of seeing them done up with makeup and costume seemed so much more fake, seeing the real thing in the flesh.

Well, I guess they eat normally enough. Val mused to himself, noticing she had no problem with meat or the food in general.

"Do my ears truly interest you that much?" An annoyed voice called out to him. Alevriasha's emerald eyes were now almost threateningly fixated on Val.

"Uh, no, s-sorry. Just never seen one of your people, Elves didn't exist till recently as far as we knew." He awkwardly replied as a slight burning embarrassment was creeping up his ears.

The elf's eyes widened slightly in surprise. "Hold on, you're completely mortal? You're from the Barren World? You're not from one of the empires?"

Val cast a dirty look at Karl, who clearly omitted one of the obviously more essential details, and his sheepish, amused look did little to defend himself. The old man busied himself in refilling his mug with wine, a thick layer of pretense about the entire behavior.

"Yeah, this planet is my original home, though I wouldn't call it barren."

"How is that possible? There's far too much magic about you for you to have only learned recently."

"Uh, that would be Karl's doing. He gave me something of a head-start." Val looked at Karl uncomfortably, as if trying to direct the elf's attention that way, but the elf seemed to be studying him intently, as if she herself had never seen a human before.

Damn old man, laugh it up, no one's buying your nonsense over there.

Muninn was as usual in highly amused spirits to the whole situation.

"Right, well, thank you for the food. I'm going to go wash up." Val set his empty bowl to the side and head off to the stream. It had been a few days since he had really bathed. In an effort to conserve water, the survivors had been mainly resorting to a kind of sponge bathing instead.

A thought occurred to Val as he reached the stream. Runewords may not be so out of his reach, it would merely be a bit slow. Once carved, the magic in the rune kept it bound together, but experimenting with fire in the woods would not be a brilliant idea. He head upstream, looking for a larger pool of water he believed should exist.

Fortunately, it did indeed, five minutes upstream at a quick pace, was a large pond, little over a meter deep in the center and a dozen or so meters wide. A short, couple meter tall rock face was feeding the pond as water trickled along its face. Much of the water was gathering here before spilling over downstream. He undressed and moved into the chilly waters, having grown accustomed to cold water. Val almost enjoyed its bristling effect now.

After enjoying the water for a time, Val set to work. He had some success with Radh and Sigil to create a magical lamp of sorts, but he wished for something he could fight with. Feoh was to be the base, there must be something more he could do with it, and while he could not quite read the runic language, he had seen the rune of fire appear with other runes in the text.

Radh seemed to have implications regarding both the area and the duration of an effect. It was used in his formations and used to repeat the effects of other runes, but another rune would be the focus of his experiments. Val activated his magic, mana coursing through his body and lighting up his brand and eyes, he practiced carving 'Thorn,' which resembled a 'P' with no curves and a protruding head at the top. Thorn seemed to be related to the projection of a force — a sharp, focused thrusting power. If his success with Radh was any indication, runes earlier in sequence could modify the later ones.

Having refreshed himself on the carving of Thorn, it was time to experiment. Val lifted his hand towards the rock face and carved the two runes in succession. After a moment, the rune for Thorn seemed to glow brightly. Then, as if it had its fill of magic, it moved behind the glowing Feoh rune. Val stopped pouring in his mana and invoked the pair of runes. The moment he did, a brilliant flame, like a compressed and stretched ball, shot out like an arrow, striking the rock and leaving a steaming, glowing scorch mark. It seemed the efficiency of heat transfer was enough to instantly heat up the rock to a dangerous degree. Steam rose from the pond along the surface the flame traveled over. Val himself was glad he had chosen to experiment here, the idea of accidentally starting a wildfire filled him with some hesitation to continue any experiments.

Filled with a combination of excitement at his success and relief he had not caused some explosion, Val relaxed deeper into the water, staring up at the stars beginning to show themselves after the sun had fully set. To his greater satisfaction, he felt he could cast several dozen such bolts of fire of that size without rest. Wisps of steam were rising from his warming body as he let his magic continue to course along.

As Val continued to practice and grow accustomed to magic and its control, he was starting to develop something of a sense for strong magical forces. He was not sure, but he was convinced this was what ticked him off to the presence of someone else around.

"You must be joking, Muninn is a bird, fine, but you're a Peeping Jane as well?" Val called out in the direction of what he believed to be the magical power of the elf, his burning gaze making out a faint outline partially exposed among the branches.

A voice scoffed from a thick branch. "I am not interested in the body of a child."

"Uh-huh, which is why you're hiding up there."

As if to refute his remark, the elf leaped down from the branch, landing without making a single sound, which continued to baffle his senses. Seeing something his brain expected a sound for was a jarring sensation to deal with.

"Water's a bit cold, but if you insist, you're welcome to join me." Val jested. He was of two minds, on the one hand, his brain was telling him not to risk angering a hundred and eighty-three-year-old Elven warrior, who was still quite armed with her shortswords at her waist, while he himself was naked in a pond, on the other, he just could not help himself.

"I think I'll pass tonight, I already bathed." Was her curt response.

That's the problem? Any other night would be fine?? Val stared in mild disbelief.

"Well, what can I do for you, Miss Asha?" The elf narrowed her eyes in displeasure.

"Oh, come on, don't give me that look, I'm sorry, but there's no way, your name is way too long. I think it's a nice name as nicknames go." Val quickly added.

"Hmph, fine. Real names have power, I'd rather not hear my name from someone with such vulgar manners, anyway." The elf now dubbed Asha did not seem nearly as displeased as Val expected. If her remark was true, then he guessed it just worked out.

"So, what brings you to my bathing hour?"

Asha leveled an intense, emerald gaze, not flinching in the slightest at the smoldering coals in his eyes. "What are your plans going forward?"