“What a great day this has been,” Marco thinks to himself, wiping the corners of his mouth with a napkin. “Lunch was delicious, just like every other meal that Ethil and Doris have made so far.”

  The platters have been neatly stacked much like earlier in the day, small golems of various elements clean, stack and organize after everyone is finished with their meal.

  The meal was simple fair today, a large communal bowl of salad greens, tossed with citrus Supremes; small wedges cut out of the fruit, avoiding the peel and membrane, making a more enjoyable bite. Some sort of soft cheese was speckled throughout the salad, Marco makes a mental note to ask the cooking pair about it, delicious and tangy to give the salad life and acidity.

  Other vegetables joined the greens; something like a cucumber, tomato, and small silvers of onion. The result was a delicious and exciting meal with a tart berry vinaigrette, a nice light meal.

  Marco is seated next to Coron, having been waved over once again to the man’s left side. Coron has invited him the House Ivory practice field so he can get used to casting magic and start preparing for the Adventurer’s Guild test that he wishes to take.

  Seeing that Coron is finished with his meal and a small swirl of air delivers both of their plates to the small stack at the end of the table where a small blob of water is carting them to the kitchen, Marco stands and waits for Coron to lead the way.

  “The practice field is at the edge of the city, a half an hour journey on foot,” Coron says, looking at Marco’s kitchen shoes skeptically.

  “Ah, yeah these shoes probably aren’t great for combat or magic practice.” Marco says, rubbing the back of his head, having forgotten he was wearing his Berkenstocks. “I think I noticed some light boots in my closet when I was getting ready this morning.”

  Coron nods and watches Marco jog off to change his footwear.

  A couple of minutes later they are at the front door of the manor. Marco now dressed in more casual clothes, a set of gray pants and shirt along with a pair of leather boots that end just above the ankle, providing support.

  “These are much lighter and more comfortable than I thought they’d be.” Marco comments as Coron starts to lead the way to the practice field. They backtrack to the main cobblestone road, and then head away from the Forest Gate where they entered the city yesterday.

  “We are headed toward the Stone Gate, which is on the northern side of the city, we used the southern Forest Gate yesterday.” says Coron, giving Marco more information about the city. Marco nods and continues to follow the elf through the city, passing more swirling spires of wood, stone, and ivy.

  Thirty minutes pass as they walk through the city, brushing elbows and shoulders with every race but fairies and dragons; dwarves, which their short but wide stature bulldozed their way through the crowd, gnomes duck and weave through the streets avoiding being stepped on or over.

  The gnomes were shorter than Marco assumed they would be, topping out at three feet tall, the dwarves being a couple feet taller at five feet tall.

  They reach the other side of the city, seeing the spectacular stone wall that surrounds Woodholme, and take a side street toward a space away from the tall tower buildings to an open clearing of compressed dirt and grass.

  “Welcome to the practice fields, we will use the third one.” Coron says, pointing to the third fenced in circle from the left. “I will start with basic mana shaping exercises.”

  They make their way to the ring, ducking below the top rail and making their way to the middle and stand facing each other. Coron begins to explain the mana exercise, “Put out your dominant hand, palm up and focus on the feeling of energy flowing from the center of your chest to the palm of your hand.”

  Marco follows the directions, palm up with his arm out he closes his eyes, trying to feel the mana in the center of his chest. Slowly a warm feeling spreads from the very center of his chest, radiating out to fill his torso with warmth. Pulling that warmth down his arm and out of his palm a tingling follows the warmth and a small sprinkling of salt manifests above his palm.

  He opens his eyes and sees the small tablespoon of salt sitting in the palm of his hand. Not a big working of magic but magic none the less, something created from mana. A grin breaks out across his face, the salt floating off of his palm leaving a small tingle in his palm.

  The mana continues to move out of his chest, infusing his chest, shoulders, and arms with strength, spreading to his legs, neck and head. The rush of power makes the grin spread further across Marco’s face, more salt being conjured into the cloud, slowly compressing before a wave of dizziness overcomes Marco.

  He releases his hold over the mana running through his body and falls on to his butt, wheezing out a little air. “That was incredible! I cannot believe magic is real.” Marco says, slightly out of breath.

  “That was a very strong showing for your first time.” Coron says, “Ben did inform me of your affinity before we left for the practice fields.” He bends down and pinches some of the salt that Marco created between his thumb and forefinger. “High quality, good purity from the looks of it. Stark white with no visible imperfections.” He places a small pinch on his tongue and nods, “Good flavor as well.”

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  Marco continues to catch his breath still smiling. “The feeling of mana is amazing, does it always feel like that?”

  “The feeling fades some say, others say you just get used to it.” Coron says, wiping small particles of salt off of his shirt and pants. “You are starting at a very high point, with a High Affinity Score. You can channel a lot more mana, something your body is not currently used to.”

  “Is that where the dizziness came from?” Marco askes, returning to his feet.

  “Most likely, this was your first time channeling mana and you have a physical element, conjuration and manifestation are always mana intensive.” Coron says, “Now that you have done it once, repeat the exercise until you can fill a small cup with salt without closing your eyes and falling over.”

  Marco begins the exercise again, summoning the warmth of his mana in his chest, letting it seep into muscles and bone as it travels down his arm and out of his palm. He flips his hand over, resting his palm just cover the mouth of the glass that Coron produced from somewhere.

  A small trickle of salt begins to fall from his palm, slowly increasing until about half the cup is filled after a couple of seconds. Mana is still infusing his entire body and salt falls into the cup, Marco makes it about three-quarters of the volume before dizziness hits and he stumbles, losing concentration.

  He takes a couple of deep breaths, focusing on the feeling of mana and making sure to let less Mana infuses his body, making more of it flow outward into the cup for his next attempt. The infusion of his muscles and bones seems to be a beneficial process, strengthening his body and making Mana flow easier.

  He tries to calm himself of the excitement that is real life magic before he starts again, every book he’d ever read said a calm mind is the best for magic. Thinking of nothing but standing in the warm sun with his hand over an empty glass he keeps his eyes open and summons the warmth in his chest.

  He focuses on not letting the Mana escape what he started to think of as channels running through his body, pushing it all toward his palm and the waiting, empty cup.

  The trickle starts as usual, slow grains of salt pouring from thin air before quickly being overtaken by a solid river of salt that quickly fills up the cup with some spilling out over the side. He halts the flow of his Mana and lets the rest seep into his body, hopefully making the next exercise easier.

  “Very well done Marco!” Coron says, clapping gently, “Just a few tries to learn to direct the flow of your Mana and focus it through your body.”

  “Thank you for your instructions, they definitely helped me with feeling Mana for the first time.” Marco says, giving the elf a small bow.

  “Grab a drink of water, channeling Mana tends to be thirsty work,” Coron says, point Marco toward a wooden post with a small silver disk stuck to the side.

  Marco activates the Inscription, much the same as the one for the shower and fills up one of the cups from a nearby table. Gulping down the refreshing cold water, he finishes the cup and swipes his wrist across his mouth, wiping away the few drops of water that escaped.

  “Ah that is nice,” Marco says, looking at the Inscription. “I’ll have to ask Ben about how these Inscriptions work later.”

  “For our next exercise, we will work on Mana circulation, a way to increase the generation of Mana in your body, useful during combat and to recoup Mana between fights.” Coron says, lowering himself onto one of the small patches of grass that litter the practice field.

  Marco joins Coron on the ground, sitting on a nearby tuft of grass. Coron starts to explain the movements of the Mana required for the Mana circulation exercise. He somehow makes his Mana visible, forming swirling pathways [Air] in front of his body, showing Marco where to form Mana channels for maximum efficiency.

  The channels begin in the chest, where Marco has been feeling his Mana, moving to the left arm and rotating in the hand before returning up the same arm and crossing to the collar bone and up the neck into the brain. From the brain into the right arm and down into the stomach where the channels coil slightly and then move down the left leg before going to the right and ending in the foot.

  Marco blinks, trying to absorb as much of the floating [Air] diagram as he could before he started his first attempt. He breathes deeply, trying to gain as much calm before he starts twisting his Mana.

  He starts in his chest, letting the warmth bloom, allowing the heat to grow and grow before he starts directing Mana through the newly formed channels in his left arm. He makes it about halfway before the Mana breaks from his control near his elbow, causing his arm to spasm and extend out of his control. “Owww. That backlash does not feel good.” Marco says to himself, rubbing his elbow with his other hand.

  He breathes for a couple of minutes, preparing himself for more pain from failed attempts to come. He readjusts his posture, straightening his back and stretching his legs lightly before folding them once again.

  He begins the same, making it to his wrist this time before failure, he swears quietly, shaking out his hand trying to alleviate the pain.

  “Take your time Marco. This is a complex technique that is taught later in a Mage’s education.” Coron says soothingly, “It is beneficial to learn it early though, you will be better at generating Mana and possibly even be able to use Battle Meditation.”

  “Battle Meditation? Is that being able to use the Mana generation during battle?” Marco asks.

  “Yes! It greatly increases your battle prowess and fight longevity.” Coron supplies. “Try the circulation exercise again, move your Mana slower and with more intention.”

  Marco listens to the Ranger. Making it back up his left arm before failing, a loud pop sounding through the practice field. Marco curls up in pain, clutching his shoulder and takes deep breath waiting for the pain to pass.

  The pain finally fades after several agonizing minutes, the Mana infused into his body during the first exercise helping to heal his wound. Marco, sits back up into his lotus position, gritting his teeth embracing his stubbornness and trying again.

  Over and over Marco fails, falls over and groans in pain, gritting his teeth and praying to anything that he’d think would listen to him that the stabbing agony would end quickly. The pain pushes him forward, held aloft by the stubbornness of a chef who doesn’t like to fail.

  He finally makes it to the beginning of his right leg after main hours of pain and misery. Coron has tried numerous times to get Marco to take a break but his pleas fall on deaf ears. He watches in disgusted amazement as the Traveler bulldozes through the high-level Mana exercise, brute forcing his way through the pain and suffering.

  His jaw is nearly touching his chest at the latest attempt, the sun much lower in the sky than when they started shortly after the midday meal. At least six hours have past as the young human breaks down his body and builds it back stronger and more infused with Mana. Marco’s right leg snaps straight, a reflex brought on by the latest failure, but Coron has rarely been so impressed in his nearly two hundred and fifty years of life.