Marco wakes up slowly, stretching under the comforter, hearing small pops from knees and ankles. He rolls over, pushing himself onto his knees, further stretching his join before starting his upper body, once again noticing the differences form just a few days ago.

  “The training with Oren yesterday was hell but effective.” Marco thinks to himself, rubbing the spot on his cheek where he was laid out. It no longer hurt or had any visible marks but the feeling of his bones moving in his face when the older elf punched him wasn’t something Marco was going to be able to forget easily.

  He shivers, once again thinking about the energy that poured off of Oren when he made his final statement yesterday, how even the sunlight fled slightly. “No matter what, I have to be careful never to offend him.” He thinks, finally finishing his stretches and getting out of the comfortable bed.

  Venturing into the closet, grabbing a simple tunic-like shirt once again and a pair of linen pants, cream and a light brown today. He gets dressed, lacing up his boots and makes sure he looks presentable in the mirror, fighting with his hair slightly as usual.

  Marco makes his way to the dining room, finding it empty for the first time since he arrived. “Ah, it is Sunday, someone mentioned that House Ivory does charity work early on Sunday mornings.” Marco pushes up his sleeves, entering the kitchen and washing up.

  He moves quickly around the kitchen, activating Inscriptions to heat burners before pulling out a wooden cutting block and knife and starting a simple omelet, making enough for everyone in hopes that they would have something to eat when they return.

  “I feel kinda bad that I’m missing the charity outing this week, no one came to wake me.” Marco says, cracking a dozen eggs together in a large bowl before whisking and adding just a splash of cream. Putting the egg bowl to the side, Marco chops peppers, onions, a tiny bit of garlic and grabs some of the semi-firm cheese that was used in last night’s dinner, reminiscent of mozzarella.

  Thoughts of the meal yesterday evening almost make him drool, the closest thing he could compare it to would be lasagna from back home. Layers of noodles with heavily spiced sauces, gooey cheese, and wonderfully cooked vegetable. Finishing up his chopping, Marco brings his dishes to the big sink in the corner, missing the magical water dishwasher that one of the sisters conjures when they are present.

  Scrubbing his board and knife in mild soap and wiping them dry and storing them back in their homes, he moves the stove, a massive ten burner situation of complicated Inscriptions and Mana. He places a skillet over the closest Inscription to him, a medium sized one that produces a good level of heat, waiting for it to heat before adding a small knob of butter and a splash of oil.

  The oil and butter melt and mingle, slowing shimmering, letting Marco know that the eggs can go in. Hs pours the eggs, scraping the sides to get all of the mixture and starts to stir with a wooden spoon with a flat end. Small curds form from the egg mixture, providing structure for the omelet to be. He stops stirring and lets the bottom set, taking the skillet of the burner and grabbing his vegetables and cheese.

  Placing the fillings in, he rolls the omelet gently over itself, in casing all the deliciousness within, sliding the omelet on to a large plate, he cleans up after himself. Double checking that the burner isn’t on, he carries his omelet into the dining room with a small carafe of juice and some bread and jam he found in the cupboard.

  He sits down with his meal, finding one of the built in Inscriptions on the table for keeping food warm, pushing some Mana into it to keep his omelet nice and toasty. He butters some bread and adds a touch of jam and a sprinkle of salt conjured by magic.

  He eats his breakfast, alone for the first time in several days in the huge Manor. He decides to practice a little, trying to use delicate movements with his fighting buffs on, trying to get used to them in the way he has settled into using Mana circulation.

  Before he applies his strengthening buff or reflex enhancement, he forms a small pair of chopsticks from [Salt] getting used to their texture before picking them up and grabbing himself a slice of omelet.

  He starts with his strengthening buff, immediately breaking his utensils before reforming them and trying again. The amount of strength he gains from his buffs is a little staggering to him, not able to adjust quickly to the change in power.

  “If I manage to keep these up long term, I will have to be careful around others.” Marco says, working on his first bite still. Breaking and reforming his chopsticks several time before he manages to bring the first bite of fluffy omelet to his mouth.

  He enjoys his omelet slowly, increasing the buff to its previous setting yesterday, using less than his increased regen. He gets used to the sense of power and decides to move along with the reflex enhancement too, the world stretching before him, able to think about every movement. He finds it easier to hold both buffs at the same time, the reflex and perception helping temper the brute strength.

  He finishes his meal, returning his dishes to the kitchen and putting a cloche on the omelet plate, hoping someone will return to enjoy it.

  He makes his way through the Manor, passing more pictures and plaques. Finding himself in the ballroom that he was shown yesterday, told that he could use this space for training as long as he didn’t damage anything.

  He finds a cushion, putting in on the floor before plopping down onto it. “Not bad for a floor seat,” He thinks to himself, getting comfortable in a lotus position and delving into his center mentally. The experience is new and exciting again with his buffs active, able to see and feel more of the Mana being generated near his heart.

  He pushes the mana, forming his first spell, [Salt Bolt] he had named it, a simple single target spell with good piercing damage if he could get it to fly away from his hand. He tries once again to launch the spell, it falling gently to the ground with a small thud, not shooting off toward one of the shielded walls.

  He tries again, imagining the bolt flying away from his hands and impacting the target, the same small bone creature that attacked him on his first day here. It hovers away from his palm a foot this time before falling to the floor once again. Sighing he dismisses both of the failed projectiles and tries again.

  This time after summoning the projectile, he tries to feel the spell in his palm, feeling a small amount of condensed Mana directly under the construct thanks to his perception increases.

  He pushes Mana into the small bundle and the projectile rockets off, impacting the shielded wall with a solid thunk. “I did it! I was finally able to make the bolt fly!” Marco celebrates to himself, forming another shortly after, getting used to the firing mechanism as best he could.

  Playing around with [Salt Bolt] for another thirty minutes, decreasing the launching time and getting used to the targeting, he moves on to the next spell on his list. [Salt Shield] he has taken to calling it mentally, its the spell he cast without thought during the beatdown with Oren yesterday.

  The foot and a half square shield floats in the direction that he cast it, resistant to movement; which would be a good thing if he could direct the movement as it would resist blows better but each casting is essentially single use as the conjured shield won’t move from its point in space.

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  He tries to feel around the spell like he did with [Salt Bolt] but finds nothing concrete anchoring it in place, “Maybe its just a function of the spell?” Marco grimaces, hoping for a better spell for protection against the quick undead in the Deadwoods. Assuming that was the first area that the local Adventurer’s Guild sent its newest recruits.

  Marco learned a little bit more, thinking about the information while he tries to decode his own spell. “I remember that first breakfast that Violet announced it was nearly time for House Ivory’s turn on the wall. I think she said the first of August?” Marco thinks to himself, having been told that the date yesterday was July 20th, giving him around ten days to become a useful fighter.

  The shield spell stubbornly hangs in the air, unmoving before he dismisses it. Moving his attention to his center to try and form a better protection spell, remembering days of Dungeons & Dragons and loads of litRPG books sometimes featuring a Stoneskin spell, he uses that as inspiration. Moving Mana from his channels, careful not to disturb his buffs and enhancements, to his skin attempting to get the Mana to layer there in a thin but protective coating.

  The first result is a fine layer of salt coating his skin, like grains of salt spilled on him. He blows them away before dismissing the falling grains, he pushes move Mana into the nascent spell, allowing the crystals to form naturally, small cubes begin to form outward from his skin.

  Marco thinks it looks a little silly, his right arm completely covered in a layer of cubic crystals, this however is a success. He forms a bolt from his left hand, slightly harder after all of his practice using his right exclusively; something he vows to fix quickly.

  He smashes the bolt into the thickest part of the armor, breaking the bolt into shards of salt. “Good protection, I mean it was salt against salt but it broke the structure of the other spell.” Marco thinks, flexing and moving his arm, the crystals moving slightly to accommodate his movements. [Salt Skin] he dubs his newest spell, thankful that the formation didn’t take all evening.

  “Having a solid idea or foundation seems to make the successful initial formation easier.” Marco ponders to himself before jumping nearly to his feet when he hears Coron’s voice from the doorway.

  “Interesting spell, we have something similar in the House spell manuals.” He says, smiling after seeing Marco jump. “I see Oren’s training went well. The height you achieved was rather impressive.”

  “Its not nice to scare people Coron.” Marco says, hand over his heart trying to slow the frantic beating. “I’m sorry I missed the charity outing this morning, I slept longer than I intended.”

  “No worries, friend, you were not expected to attend.” Coron shaking his head, “I came to check on your progress after snagging a bite of the omelet you made. Delicious as always.”

  “Progress seems to be going okay, I have been trying to get used to keeping the buffs and enhancement at all times.” Marco replies, “I finally got the bolt to launch and not fall out of my hand. I also managed to develop a more useful defensive spell after I couldn’t move the shield spell.”

  “I am free for the remainder of this morning if you like a friendly spar to test your new defenses.” Coron offers, “I would be happy to help you figure out the limits of your new armor.”

  “That would be great, I will need to start slow. The only person I have fought is Oren and he scares me.” Marco says, beginning to circulate his Mana faster, generating Mana and pumping it into his buffs and enhancements. The extra Mana in the buffs bring them from passive to more active, providing bigger benefits.

  “The only person you’ve ever fought has been Oren? You poor soul.” Coron says, “I forget your world is mostly peaceful.”

  “It was for me anyway.” Marco says, bouncing lightly on his feet, preparing to summon his armor or shield depending on how Coron tries to attack him.

  A swirling arrow of [Air] forms and shoot toward him in a single breath, he leans to his right, letting the air pass by his shoulder. Pushing Mana into his new spell, [Salt Skin] snaps into place, cubes of salt lining his body mainly around his torso and down his arms. Another arrow shatters against his newly formed armor with a small spray of salt.

  Marco pushes off of his back foot, shooting through the space between the two. Arrows continue to hit his armor, generating small amounts of salt spray as the [Air] chips away at [Salt Skin].

  Marco closes the gap, within striking distance of Coron, who summons swirls of [Air] at his feet, increasing his movement speed and letting him hover above the ground. Coron attempts to keep the distance but Marco stays close to the elf, attempting to hit the other man at all.

  He finally gets a glancing blow in before being thrown off of his feet, impacting the floor ten feet away on his back. Air rushes from his lungs as he slides an additional few feet, scrambling to his feet and renewing his lost buffs.

  “What was that?” Marco yells to be heard of the sounds of whipping [Air].

  “Sorry friend, I forgot to disable one of my defensive spells before we began.” Coron says, swirling [Air] disappearing from his feet, he slowly walks toward Marco, making it clear that the spar is over.

  “It is alright, just surprised me mostly.” Marco says, smoothing his clothing and fixing his wind strewn hair. “Was that a conditional defensive spell?”

  “Yes, my preferred combat distance is long to mid-range so the defensive spell is designed to move them into mid-range at least so I can get some hits in.” Coron explains, “A Ranger, which is my chosen battle position, is a hybrid type combatant. Using martial techniques for movement and stealth from Warriors and long-distance casting practices from Mages to make a versatile combat, specializing in hunting and single target damage.”

  “Interesting! What other battle positions are there, other than Warrior and Mage?” Marco asks.

  “Warriors, Mages, Rangers, Controllers, and Healers.” Coron, lists off the positions of a party, usually consisting of four people in different roles covering the three main archetypes; tank, damage dealer, and support. “The balance of positions, archetypes, and affinities is of crucial importance to the wellbeing of party.”

  He goes on to explain the importance of Affinity balance, making sure that the party doesn’t have all conflicting affinities, something that can cause lots of problems with spell function.

  “Do you have any tips or ideas for me? What position do you see me in?” Marco asks the more experienced fighter.

  “I cannot say what position I see you in, it is a personal choice and personal preference.” Coron says, “And also Oren would string me up if I tainted his teaching.”

  Marco watches a shiver pass through Coron’s entire body, brought on no doubt by the mentioned of the scary elf.

  “Can you tell me more about your fighting style? I know we have different elements and element types but any information helps.” Marco asks.

  “Of course, as I mentioned earlier, I fit the Ranger position in my team. Providing long range spell damage and mobile mid-range interference, I function as the secondary damage dealer, setting up hits for the primary damage dealer.” Coron says, sitting on one of the cushions placed around the room. “I use a lot of manipulation spells to increase my mobility, you saw the swirls of wind at my feet, I can do the opposite to monsters and enemies.”

  “That is very cool, as a physical element I know can’t do a lot of the same things but I will try to take inspiration where I can.” Marco says.

  “Outside of combat, I use my magic to help the House, I can filter air with my Affinity and use that ability to help clean air clean and fresh for our builders.” Coron says, “I am nearly two hundred and fifty years old, I have a solo [Air] Affinity of Medium grade and I use my affinity to filter air.”

  Coron shakes his head, clenching his fists hard enough that his knuckles turn white. The frustration is visible and Marco places his hand on the elf’s shoulder in comfort.

  “I understand the frustration; I worked dead-end jobs with asshole owners who thought their way was the best way, nothing I could say with my years of experience could sway them.” Marco says, “It is insanely hard to live in those situations.”

  “I do it for the House though, it makes people's lives earlier and safer.” Coron waves away Marco’s words, “I know it isn’t the most glorious job but it is important to the House and to the city, I will get over my frustrations eventually.”

  “If you truly believe that, then you wouldn’t feel so frustrated about being stuck filtering air Coron.” Marco says, squeezing the frustrated elf’s shoulder. “You need to do something that allows you to grow, even if you continue to filter air for the House and city, you need sometime for you.”

  “Thank you for your kind words, I don’t know how to do that currently. I spent my early years being told I was to be the House heir but my Affinity does not match the House requirements and my younger sister was named in my stead.” Moron says with a hint of bitterness. “I will endeavor to do some reflection and work toward something that allows me to grow in some way.”

  “That is all I can ask,” Marco says. “Grow, learn, and change Coron; do not allow stagnation to ruin relationships and taint your feelings toward your family. I know I should have tried harder with my family.”