I was very excited to show everybody my stone ball. They were impressed by it and carefully exami.

  “Excellent, let’s try teag me spells,” Lis said excitedly, rubbing his hands together. A glint of enthusiasm lit up his eyes.

  We headed outside, the cool air brushing against our faces. Lis turo me and said, “Show me the parts of your personal information that have spells.”

  Fog, I streamed mana into my profile, feeling the familiar tingle as it popped into visibility.

  “Did I mention how envious I am of your mana?” Lis asked, raising an eyebrow with a pyful smirk.

  I chuckled, shaking my head slightly. “Many times.”

  He ughed, his eyes kling at the ers, and tinued, “You must practice showing only parts of your personal information. Avoid showing the whole thing to anybody.”

  “I trust you,” I said, meeting his gaze.

  “Thank you,” he replied warmly, “but you still should practice.”

  “I will,” I nodded, making a mental note.

  He leaned closer, sing my profile with keen i, and asked, “In the General Spells, I see Absorb Mana, but I never saw it in the purchase list; how e you have it?”

  A grin tugged at my lips as I expined, “I lear from a barrel.”

  “A barrel?” He asked, sounding bewildered.

  “Yes,” I firmed, “it purified water, and I exami.”

  He ughed heartily, shaking his head in amusement. “A barrel, who would have thought of that? Anyway,” he said, straightening up, “I’m ied in Healing Toueutralize Poisrow Flesh, Fortify Life Foreutralize Curse, Restore, Adaptable Light Ball, and Absorb Mana.”

  “Do you know how Lyura’s Mother took trol of her mana to teach her the spells?”

  “I don’t know the exact sequence,” Lis admitted, rubbing his thoughtfully, “but from my uanding, she put her hands on Lyura’s back, took trol of her mana, and guided it to cast the spell repeatedly until Lyura could cast it.”

  “Okay,” I said, steeling myself, “let’s try that.”

  I pced my hands on Lis’s bad attempted to focus my awareness into him, simir to what I did with the water or the stone, but it was impossible. He was too plex, and I also felt as if there was some protective field that prevented me from “entering.” No matter what I tried, it didn’t work.

  I tried to think of a solution and thought about what Lis said, that she “took trol of her mana.” I tried a different approach: I poured mana into him, not as a spell, just mana, and tried to direct it to reach his els. That didn’t work either; the mana spread through his body and dissipated into the air.

  Lis said, “My power ter is the Mind orb; maybe try trolling my mana from there?” He poio his temple with a thoughtful expression. “When my wizard friend built my spirals, he pced both hands on my head.”

  I did, and it worked a little better—I could “i” my awareness into his power ter; I even saw the orb, which was much bigger than any of the orbs I had in my body. But other than seeing the orb, I couldn’t do anything. I tried to “grab” his mana with no success; I tried to flow my mana into his power ter, mix it with his mana, and then take trol, but it didn’t work either.

  We both found ourselves stumped and sat down, our minds ing as we tried to brainstorm a solution. After a few minutes of silence, Lis suddenly perked up. “I might have an idea.”

  “What is it?”

  “If I flow mana down my arms like when I carve runes or charge a ritual,” he expined, slowly extending his arms and studying his hands, “you think you take trol of the mana that es out of my palms?”

  “Let’s try,” I replied, nodding in agreement. “If we don’t try, we won’t know.”

  I pced my palms on the backs of his palms, and he flowed mana. It was easier for me to feel his mana there, as if the protective field of his body was thinner or sparser in the hand area. At first, I could not ect to his mana, but slowly, as I allowed my awareo sink into the mana that flowed from his hands, I began to feel “oneness.” I sank deeper and deeper into his mana a its “fvor.” It was like reading him. I could taste his thirst for knowledge, his desire to find things that made him smile h, his care for people, his impatience when something didn’t go the way he wanted, and his enthusiasm for disc hings. It was like a direct lio his fual essence as a person, and I saw he was even more impressive than I thought.

  The mana flow suddenly stopped, and I tly “thrown” out of the e, disoriented momentarily.

  “What happened?” I asked, blinking as I tried tain my bearings.

  “Out of mana,” Lis replied, his voice tinged with fatigue as he rubbed his temples.

  “Oh,” I said, realizing what had happened. “I must have gone a little too deep. I o find a way to feel the mana but not let it take me over until I lose my self-awareness and what I want to do.”

  Lis houghtfully, taking a deep breath. “I have tee, so maybe practice that while I do?”

  “Yeah, good idea,” I agreed, giving him a reassuring smile as I settled back, ready to refine my teique.

  I went back to training with stones. It was easier for me to ect with water, but because water is stantly in motion, it wasn’t a suitable subjey training; I needed something static.

  I trained for two days but made little progress. I had a colle of three stone balls I pced in a fruit bowl on the breakfast bar, but I always reached the point of direg the mana only after immersing myself in it for a long time. If I wao teach Lis spells, I couldn’t afford to sink into his mana for hours before I started direg it.

  On the evening of the sed day, while we were in the middle of dihis time with the food we bought in Si because I was too frustrated to cook, it suddenly dawned on me, and I facepalmed.

  “What happened?” Lis asked, his brow furrowed in .

  “I’m an idiot,” I muttered, rubbing the bay ne frustration.

  Lis raised an eyebrow, about to say something, but Mahya beat him to it. “What made you reach this enlighte?” she asked, her tone dripping with pyful sarcasm.

  “Very funny,” I shot back, giving her a gre that was more amused than angry. “I fot my most basic ability as a Wizard, the first ability I developed that gave me this css.”

  “Which is?” Mahya asked, tilting her head with genuine curiosity.

  “Mind Split,” I expined, feeling sheepish. “Instead to get to where I’m immersed in the mana but also have trol over it, I split my mind; one part is immersed in the mana, and another directs it.”

  Lis’s eyes lit up with uanding. “Let’s try it. Like you said, if we don’t try, we won’t know.”

  We went outside again. I put my hands on the backs of Lis’s hands, and he flowed mana. I split my mind a one part sink into his mana. This time, it also went much faster. Probably, all my training with the stoaught me to submerge faster. Once I fully immersed myself in his mana, I used the other part of my mind to trol it, gently direg it without pressure or force.

  Immediately, I realized two splits were not enough. One part immersed in the mana, and the sed directed the flow, but I still needed a third part to cast the spell aermihe flow to direct it. I split my mind into the third part—this part was always more plicated, and I felt my mind start to “sweat and tremble”—and cast the spell Healing Touch over and over. The sed part directed Lis’s mana to flow through the same patterns as the spell.

  I told him through gritted teeth, “Try to leartern as quickly as possible; the third split is tough for me.”

  Little by little, I felt him taking trol of the mana, and the more he took trol, the more I let go. However, I tio direct the mana to the correct pattern, this time half nudging the mana along and half nudging him.

  After over forty casts, I could release my trol entirely. I maintained my e with his mana to monitor that he was doing it right, but I didn’t have to direct it anymore and could let go of the third split. That was such a relief that I almost sagged. I was breathing heavily a like I had run a marathon, and my mi like it was having a muscle spasm. It wasly a physical feeling; it was more mental, but a muscle spasm was the closest feeling to what I felt in my mind.

  “Cast the spell again,” I said, fog on his teique.

  He did, and I could immediately sehat his spell casting was fwless, the mana flowing seamlessly.

  “Cast it another couple of times to ensure you got it,” I suggested, not wanting to leave anything to ce.

  “No need,” he replied with a fident grin. “I have the spell in my General Spells list; I checked.”

  “Phew! That was difficult; the third split is a killer,” I admitted, letting out a relieved sigh as I rexed my shoulders.

  Lis raised an eyebrow, a hint of amusement in his eyes. “If I recall correctly, whe, I told you to practice this ability, or am I mistaken?”

  I felt my cheeks flush slightly. “No, you’re not. I remember you telling me.”

  “So why didn’t you?” he asked, crossing his arms and giving me a knowing look.

  I rubbed my neck sheepishly, avoiding his gaze. “Too many other things to do, and I fot.”

  “You fot,” he repeated, his to, though the ers of his mouth twitched with a suppressed smile.

  “Yeah…” I admitted, drawing out the word as I gave him a helpless shrug.

  He started r with ughter, the sound eg all around us. After a minute, he wiped a tear from the er of his eye and said, “I think you are the most talented Wizard I have ever met but also the most scatterbrained.”

  “I’m not scatterbrained,” I protested, crossing my arms defensively. “There are so many things to learn and discover that I keep skipping from ohing to another. Not because of ck of focus, but because of the enormous sele and the specific things YOU tell me to learn.” I pointed my fi him, giving him an accusatre.

  Lis chuckled, shaking his head. “I think you should make a list of all the things you o learn, perfect, and practice, and stick to it until you master those things, at least partially, before moving to the hing.”

  “Yeah, good idea,” I agreed, nodding thoughtfully as I sidered his advice.

  Lis’s expression shifted to one of curiosity as he asked, “What is your vitality number?”

  I blinked, caught off guard. “What does that have to do with anything?”

  “Humor me.”

  “Fifty-one,” I replied, still puzzled by his line of questioning.

  “And what is the average life span oh?” he tinued, his tone more serious now.

  “Seventy hty years,” I answered, w where he was going with this.

  “So,” Lis began, giving me a pointed look, “with your vitality, even without sidering that your father robably from one of the long-lived races, your life expecy is around 400 years. If we add that you matured at about half the speed of the inhabitants of Earth, then even if your meics shorten your life span, you still have at least 750 years to live.”

  I stared at him, sck-jawed, abs the implications of his words.

  “Take your time to perfect everything you do,” Lis advised, his voice ge firm. “If you do everything quickly, you won’t have anythio learn or discover ter. Slow down, take your time, and enjoy the experience.”

  I stared at him in shock. Seven hundred fifty years? Seriously? My mind raced as I tried to prehend the enormity of that number. I knew our life expecreased as the Vitality stat increased—Lis had told me he was over 400—but I had never dohe math. Seven hundred fifty years? My legs suddenly felt like jelly, and before I k, I dropped to my butt on the ground, too stuo stand. I just sat there, processing this information, my mind spinning with the implications.

  Seven hundred fifty years?

  I’m going to live at least Seven hundred fifty years?

  Oh my god! I’m going to live over Seven hundred fifty years!!

  I burst into untrolble ughter and deliberately relinquished any sense ency.

  There is no need for me to rush.

  I felt how the future unfolded before me like an endless road full of amazing adventures and experiences, different worlds, different people, different varied knowledge, things to learn, achieve, and perfect. At the same time, I felt myself growing and expanding. I took a deep breath ahe spiritual expansion with the physical sense of release I had already learnize. I checked my mana: 510/9300.

  My ma up another 400 points. I checked my mana to locate the progress, and for the first time, it was in my Mind’s power ter.