Mana finally clicks into place in Marco’s right foot, he sighs as Mana begins to move through his body with limited interference. Mana rushes through the newly formed circuit, encouraging growth in the channels, widening them and making them tougher and more robust.

  He tries to unfold his legs from lotus position but finds them extremely stiff and painful, groaning quietly knowing he just endured far worse pain, he straightens one leg and then the other. Slowly standing and going through a small series of stretches that he used to complete every morning before work, he slowly becomes more limber and agile.

  The Mana is still moving through his body, much slower now that he is standing and moving around, the Mana having to move through channels in slightly different places. He smiles at his success and looks over at his instructor and sees the look of shock on Coron’s face.

  “What is wrong? Did I make the circuit wrong?” Marco asks, panic seeping into his voice at the thought of having to redo the exercise.

  “No. Nothing is wrong. Just the speed and endurance that you showed during the Mana exercise is outstanding.” Coron says, joining Marco on his feet. “May I inspect your Mana channels and make sure everything is functioning properly?”

  Marco nods and the other man places a hand on his shoulder, a small breeze rustling the fabric around Coron’s hand as he summons [Air]. The shocked look and slack jaw return to Coron as he inspects the Mana flowing through Marco’s body.

  “You are able to stand and move without disrupting the flow of Mana?” Coron questions.

  “Yes, the flow definitely slows down a bit when I’m moving though.” Marco says, looking confused at Coron, thinking that this is what the exercise was for.

  “The circuit that you just completed is for resting and seated meditation, that it is functioning as you are standing and moving is bizarre.” Coron says, still lightly hold Marco’s shoulder and watching the Mana flows.

  “Ah, that is weird. I don’t know what I did wrong or changed to make it function differently.” Marco says, slowly stretching his upper body without disrupting the contact that the elf is making. He finally notices the sun is nearing the horizon, he gasps at the beauty of the gold and pink sunset. Visible sunbeams streak across the sky in every shade of gold, yellow, and orange.

  “It is something that we will have to look into another time, we are going to be late for dinner if we do not hurry back home.” Coron says, removing his hand from the other man’s shoulder.

  “I know it is out of character for me but would you mind if I stayed here and practiced with my Mana some more? I’m also enjoying the sunset quite a bit.” Marco asks, a little embarrassed at his request.

  “That is absolutely fine, I will send Oren if we do not see you after dinner.” Coron says, turning and walking away, waving slightly over his head. “Do not push yourself too hard and enjoy the beauty of the sunset, they are wonderful this time of year.”

  Marco turns his head upward, looking at the golden rays on a pink backdrop, loving the interplay of colors and brightness. He sighs, not out of frustration or irritation but out of loneliness and lost. He misses his friends back home. Being away for nearly two days now, this has been the longest they’ve been apart since culinary school almost ten years ago now.

  He returns to his seated position, noticing that Inscribed lamps and torches are flickering on in the fading light around the practice fields. The warm flicker of orange firelight and the warm glow of the Mana lamps giving the practice field a homey and comfortable feeling. A warm summer breeze adds to the ambience, bringing smells of lush greenery to Marco.

  He focuses on his center, the place right between his sternum and the warmth grows, now ever present with his Mana circulation, filling his chest and spreading to his arms and down his legs. He pulls that feeling and power down his right arm and into his hand, repeating the first exercise, but then he starts to compress the salt that is conjured into a more solid form.

  The individual grains of salt join together and start forming the typical cube crystal shapes that salt naturally forms. He tries to push his will onto the crystal but nothing happens, it continues to grow into a large chunk of interconnected cubes.

  Marco knows that he is going to take the Adventurer’s test in the next few days and wants to start forming some sort of spell or attack that will help him pass. He stops channeling Mana into the large grapefruit sized chunk of conjured salt.

  He starts again, trying to push the new grains of salt into a sharper shape, like a small large spearhead he can send flying at enemies. He pushes his will into his magic, truly trying to connect with the [Salt] like he has seen the others do when casting their spells.

  He focuses on the space above his hand where a small chunk of salt is growing, slowly rotation in the air, cubes growing haphazardly, forming almost round shape once again.

  He cuts the flow of Mana to the chunk of salt and places it next to the other failure. He continues to try, pushing mana from his hand creating chunk after chunk of salt, they litter the ground around him, collecting dust.

  The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

  He finally manages to create one sharp point on his next attempt, at shape being strange, an uneven round base with one sharp point, looking like a very chunky teardrop. Marco chuckles to himself, putting the semi-success off to the side.

  Sighing at the chunks littering the ground around him, fifteen uneven orbs with small cubes growing from them, shaking his head he starts to channel Mana once again, focusing on everything that he knew about salt, the crystal structure, the salt, and the sharp edges and points that he wanted. Slowly [Salt] begins to form into an icicle-like shape, a five-inch spear of salt, one very sharp point thickening out a bit before ending in a blunt rounded end.

  The bolt of [Salt] slowly rotates over his palm, Marco watches it float with a large smile of his face. The pure white color of the conjured weapon absorbs some of the warm flickering light of the torches and Mana lamps. Small ridges run down the length of the bolt, hopefully helping Marco with aiming when he launches the spell.

  “I did it! I changed the natural shape of [Salt] and have formed what I hope is a useful spell.” Marco thinks to himself and he pushes himself from the ground, nearly jumping off the ground when he notices Oren sitting on the fence around the practice field.

  “Oren! You sacred the hell out of me.” Marco exclaims, trying to flow his beating heart with his left hand, surprised that the bolt is still floating around his right hand. He tries to launch the spell from his hand toward one of the practice dummies, however the bolt of [Salt] just falls from his hand and sticks upright into the ground.

  “My apologies Marco, it was not my intention to scare you but I did not want to interrupt your spell formation.” A small hidden smirk on Oren’s face makes Marco doubt his words about his intention to scare him.

  “I managed to form the bolt for the first time but you watched my first attempt at launching the spell just now.” Marco says in a sad tone, not liking failure.

  “The progress that you made today has been the talk of the House, young Coron talked about little else during dinner today.” Oren says, the normal bored tone of his voice replaced with a small smile. “I have lived a very long time young man and have rarely seen such talent for Mana.”

  “I don’t feel like I’m doing anything special. I just listened to the instructions from Coron and my current circuit is the result.” Marco says, gesturing at the chunks of salt littering the ground where is standing. “Look at all my failed attempts, it took me hours to just change the shape of the projectile and I can’t even launch it fast enough to do damage.”

  “Whining will do nothing and you will certainly not receive pity from me. You have done something previously unheard of in our long history of Mana circulation.” Oren says in a harsher tone than Marco had heard from him before. “Take your successes when you can young man. The world of Omnia is a harsh and brutal place at time, celebrate your wins and remember them fondly after your failures.”

  “I’m sorry, I have a bit of a perfectionist streak, it made me a good Chef but I don’t take failure very well.” Marco says, hanging his head slightly. “I am proud of my progress but I just don’t know what I am doing differently.”

  “I have lived for over eight hundred years, I have seen the rise and fall of Kingdoms, heroes and villains fight and fall and I have not heard of passive Mana circulation like what you are doing.” Oren, hops off the fence and starts to walk toward Marco. “I have been the Protector of House Ivory for the last two hundred years. I have traveled the length and breadth of this land. You are doing something special, treat yourself with the same grace you give others.”

  “I will try Oren. I promise to try.” Marco says, one small tear escaping and running down his cheek.

  “Allow me to accompany you home, our resident chefs have prepared a couple of snacks for you in case you came home hungry.” Oren says, looking toward the chunks of salt laying on the ground. Thin shadowy appendages appear from his back, each one grabbing a chunk of salt and carrying them as they begin the journey home.

  The city of Woodholme is just as beautiful in the dark of night as it is the daytime, bioluminescent vines show themselves, giving the wooden and stone spires of the city a gentle and beautiful glow. The thirty-minute journey passed in a flash and Marco finds himself in the foyer of the Manor.

  “Thank you for walking me home Oren. I also appreciate your word from earlier, I will take them to heart and try to do better.” Marco says, giving the older elf a deep bow.

  “It is my pleasure to beat some sense into the younger generation, either verbally or with magic.” A slightly evil smirk appears on the butler’s face making Marco shiver slightly. “Goodnight Marco, we will speak tomorrow.”

  Marco wishes the elf a good evening as well, and ascends the stairs, and heads to his room. He strips off his boots and sets them nicely next to his kitchen shoes, headed toward the bathroom and wonderous shower within. He strips off his green button-up shirt and gray pants and looks at himself in the mirror. Noticing the dust on the pants and the salt stains on the right arm where he was channeling the most mana.

  He is surprised to see much more muscle present than there was yesterday. Gone was the pale lanky body that he had for years, shaped by too many days eating a single meal with too much caffeine and stress and in its place, a lightly tanned muscled body, visible ab muscles and some definition on his biceps. The smile that is on his face looks slightly foreign to him after years of burn out and stress in kitchens stripping his passion and joy.

  He shakes away the feelings, trying to listen to Oren and embrace his victories. He finishes undressing, activates the shower Inscription and sighs in pleasure as he enters the hot shower spray.

  All the stress melts away under the hot water, washing away the feelings of inadequacy and imposter syndrome that he fought through earlier in career. The water quickly drains away as he turns the Inscription off, managing it without having to rely on the System message this time, just pulling his Mana from the silver disk.

  Dressing in bedclothes like yesterday Marco finds a small platter of goodies on his bedside table. Small pastries filled with a mixture of potato, onion, turmeric and spices. “Like a samosa back home.” Marco thinks to himself while cramming the flaky pastry into his mouth, not realizing his hunger until that moment.

  He finishes up his evening snack and cleans up his hands, refreshed by the meal and hot shower Marco sits in lotus position on his bed, holding his hands ten inches apart and beginning to summon his Mana and try to form different shapes, pushing himself just a little to form cylinders and plain cube. He succeeds after just a couple of attempts, making a long cylinder similar to a big dowel from back home.

  Smiling and walking back to the bathroom to take care of his business and brush his teeth with the provided brush by the Ivorys. He returns to the bedroom, climbs into bed nestling under the plush cream comforter and quickly falls asleep, a small smile on his face as he thinks about the magic that he created today.