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Chapter 3 - The Old Man and the Sea

  Helsen was the village arcanist. Terminology aside, it was quite similar to the situation of Luna's home dimension. Just about every town and backwater village had some kind of local hedge wizard, who the local yokels would beseech whenever they were faced with a supernatural threat.

  Or if someone had a bad headache. Or if a particularly scary shadow was hanging around their bedroom. Or if one of the cows wasn't producing any milk.

  Or, really, just for any general thing that didn't have an immediate or obvious solution.

  He was also something of a mentor to Luna. Or, at least, he wanted to style himself as such. He had, after all, sensed a massive surge of potential qi conveniently on the night of her birth, and had taken a strong interest in her as a result when she started to casually display an affinity for spells. The lanky arcanist approached the two, his hands tucked into his robe pockets.

  "Luna, you really shouldn't make threats like that to people," he said.

  Luna gave Helsen an irritable look. "They started it. And I warned them before not to hassle Feris." Her brother nodded enthusiastically at her side.

  She flicked her ivory braid off her shoulder as she spoke. Damnable thing. In her old life, as a man, she had been content to keep her hair short. Later, when her body evolved beyond mortal flesh, she had been as bald as an egg. She would’ve gone for a shorter hairstyle now, but apparently the culture of Elthreme placed great religious significance on women carrying a braid. Particularly in the coastal regions. For now, at least, Luna wouldn’t rock the boat.

  The arcanist rolled his shoulders, shaking off the last vestiges of sleep. He reached up with one hand, stroking through the greyish tangles of his beard. "Fair enough. But there are better ways to convince people than to threaten them with grievous harm."

  She snorted. "People like that can only be convinced one way." She looked down at Feris, who was clutching his bucket of shellfish close to his chest. "Go back home. Mother's getting worried." He didn't protest further, turning and heading towards the other end of the beach.

  Helsen watched him go, managing a tiny smile. Luna sighed. "Don't be too harsh on him. He might not be a fighter, but he has a good heart," Helsen said.

  Luna raised an eyebrow. "What is that supposed to mean?" she asked. A good heart. Nonsense. She'd known plenty of men with 'good hearts', and they died the same as any other man. At least the men with cruel hearts made for smarter foes.

  "Just that..." He trailed off. He pursed his lips for a moment, seemingly gathering his thoughts. "He may not respond well to harsh guidance. And, oftentimes, it’s better to solve a problem with the open palm as opposed to the clenched fist.”

  "Why are you here, Helsen?" Luna asked. "Surely not just to badger me for threatening that twerp, Damon."

  He stared at her, and she briefly felt the probing intensity in his gaze. He was checking her qi, and thought himself subtle about it. "I was hoping we could do a little bit of training," he said.

  She sighed again, then stood up, brushing the sand from her trousers. There was no point arguing with him. It'd take far more effort than she cared to expend. "Okay, fine," she acquiesced. If this was going to turn out anything like she expected it would, she didn't want the results to be too disappointing.

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  For as vast as her magical knowledge was, the magic of this world had a few tricks she had yet to grasp. And Helsen was a veteran, a man who had fought in the Ashlands to the east and had been a soldier of some repute among the Elthremian army. He was the only person in this backwater with any knowledge to give.

  Even if he was a sanctimonious pain.

  Helsen glanced to the lapping waves on the coast. His qi suddenly surged in his body, changing the pressure in the air around them, until a faint white aura rose around him. Like steam shooting from the spout of a kettle. "Not every problem needs to be solved with brute force, or pure destructive power."

  He motioned to the water, a swirling sphere of wind suddenly exploding from his palm. It cleaved through the air like a speeding arrow, parting the waves at it went by. It exploded several dozen meters from the shore, kicking up a boom of white water that sent a hail of rain onto the sands. Luna watched on, unimpressed.

  By the standards of her past life, it was a basic airburst spell that any novice wizard would learn in their first year of training. Or be tossed out by their master if they couldn’t grasp something so basic.

  She watched, then, as the water parted by the explosion reformed and started surging back to the coast. "There are times where it is better to approach problems with a soft touch, than a charging fist." He flicked his wrist as he spoke, his aura shifting into a bubble that enveloped them and warded off the incoming water as it crashed against them.

  "I'm not really the nurturing sort. And again, I won't always be there to fight my little brother's battles for him."

  "This isn't just about Feris. This is about the nature of power in general. How you use it." The last of the tide pulled away from them. Helsen let the bubble dissipate, stepping out of its range to continue speaking. "Every arcanist knows the basics of combat; how they manipulate their qi, how to augment their bodies with it. All things they firmly understand before they find their Way. But they rarely dwell on the philosophy of power. How it's meant to be used in the service of others."

  He took a few steps from her, his footsteps barely leaving a trace in the sand. His aura faded entirely. "You've been blessed with great power. Great potential. No doubt in my mind you’ll excel in the service of Elthreme. You might even become a Silver Rank. And with all the dangers from the Ashlands in the east, and the Mire in the west..." he looked westward out to sea and narrowed his eyes, as if looking at all the obscene horrors that supposedly dwelled under the waves. "Then you need to be willing to use that power responsibly. For the protection of yourself, and others. And, ideally, without bullying smaller, weaker bullies."

  Luna scoffed. "Rather generous of you to call Damon small by any stretch..."

  "Fat jokes should be beneath you."

  She shrugged. "It's accurate." Frankly she had little interest in Helsen's lectures on philosophy. In her past life, plenty of people had thought to do so, and many of those same would-be philosophers were dead for their hubris. Power, as far as she was concerned, was a tool, to be used to its fullest until it hit its limits. Luna, sadly, was still limited in her own power, and so her own ambitions had to be temporarily hemmed in.

  But Helsen had mistaken her for some misguided peasant girl, as opposed to the reality of the situation. If he knew what she really was, he likely would have killed her on the spot. Instead she was a moody girl who didn't grasp the concept of responsibility in his eyes.

  "Besides... If any ashborn or drowned men come our way, I have the means to take care of them. I'll protect folks as needed, and destroy monsters as needed to." Her own aura hissed to life, filling her lithe muscles with vitality as she became wreathed in purple mist. She took aim, a cannonball of air shooting from her hand, near as strong as Helsen's own. It exploded in the distance, heralding another tide to race their way.

  This time, however, Luna waved a hand toward the incoming water, drawing upon knowledge of her old life. She summoned a wall of shimmering superheated air, turning the incoming sea water into steam when it drew close enough. The hiss of the contact echoed across the sands.

  Silence fell between them as Luna caught her breath, the wall of heat melting away.

  "How in the world do you do that?" Helsen eventually asked. "I’ve tried teaching you the basics from the Way of Elements but nothing so advanced, and there's nobody else around for you to learn from." He tried to keep a flat expression, but a hint of anxiety quivered in his voice.

  Luna shrugged dismissively. "Natural talent," she said. Which was technically true.

  "You and your secrets." He reached into a pouch on his belt and produced a handful of glowing citrine chunks. "Here," he said, dropping several into Luna's palm. "Head to Lorrine's stall and buy me a root beer. Consider it compensation for being mysterious."

  Luna glared at the taller arcanist, tossing the chunks of luminous quartz up and down in her hand. Pocket change. "Fine. And then what?"

  "And then we'll do some meditation. See if we can't quell that anger in your heart," Helsen replied, whirling around and strolling up the shore.

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