Chapter 5

We packed up the cart, and then set out not too much later. I wanted to see if I could make my next regular stop before the end of the day. Showing Myta how I organized my supplies, and more importantly explaining why, took the longest amount of time. I was particular about the layout of my cart, but fortunately she proved to be a quick study. Easily connecting my reasoning with the practical application, and even asking relevant questions on some things that were placed according to my idiosyncrasies, rather than any practical reason. It was… far more promising than I had hoped for. When I told her as much, I thought she might burst into tears. Frankly I found that unnerving. I’d been told many times that even my most effusive praise landed like a deliberate insult.

I whistled for the goats, and we harnessed them up. Ita and Ina were more than ready to get on the road. They tended to be energetic in the spring, even late spring. I showed Myta how to drive the cart, which she had no experience with, then walked beside it as she drove. The girls were smart enough that they rarely required guidance, and this road was a good one to practice on. I also wanted to test how well my companion could multitask.

“What do you know of sorcery and mana?” I asked, as we got underway.

“Little enough. Mana is the energy that fuels our spirits. And sorcery is the art of using that energy.” Her voice was still quiet, but almost back to the husky tones I’d heard in the visions of her past. There was now little sign that speaking with me was straining her. A clear indication that my mana was still working to heal her body.

“That is indeed the most superficial understanding. As you say, mana is the lifeblood of the spirit, but it is found everywhere in the world. It arises from everything, every substance and interaction, though generally only in small amounts. Sorcery harnesses that energy, and so in theory any thinking being can work sorcery. As we all produce mana, and our spirits are all fueled by it, one could even argue that every thinking being is already a sorcerer.” I let her mull on that for a bit as we wound through a particularly steep set of hills.

“If we all use mana already, then a sorcerer is someone who does that on purpose.” She finally said.

“Precisely,” I was trying to suppress a smile now. “A sorcerer gathers up what mana they can, and bends it to their will to create a consciously intended effect. That is the definition of sorcerer, and sorcery, that is most commonly used by those who study mana.” I could tell she wanted to ask about other definitions, but she held her tongue and I continued.

“Anima is a term you hear a little less often outside of scholarly circles. Anima is the stable part of your spirit. It is what allows you to channel mana, and protects your spirit from outside influence. The **** bond was first created to help reinforce the subject’s anima from outside influence. Anyone who wanted to affect your anima now would need to overcome mine as well. The size, strength, and shape of a being’s anima changes how much mana they can use. As well as how they can use it. This applies to sorcerers and non-sorcerers alike.”

I kept up my instruction for a time, then left her alone for a while to digest the information. After lunch I quizzed her to determine what she’d retained, and answered the questions she’d come up with. My estimation of her was continuing to increase. Myta would never be a scholar, she had no real love of learning for its own sake. But, she had enough curiosity and intelligence to be eminently trainable. Our next steps would need to wait until we stopped to rest.

Just before nightfall we arrived at the camp that was our destination. It was somewhere between a hunting outpost and logging operation. The camp’s founders had negotiated a treaty with the local forest god long ago. They received limited rights to harvest those plants and animals designated by the god, which made them much easier to hunt and gather. In return, the camp kept other humans from foraging here, and also provided a tithe of worship. A win for both parties, I thought, as it maintained the forest as a stable resource. Such deals were not uncommon in semi-wild areas like this, though many did not work out so well as this one, especially over the long term.

The palisade gate was closed by the time we reached it. That meant my chance to acquire a new tent today had passed. Unfortunate, but livable. I settled Myta inside the wagon with some extra blankets to wrap herself in. Her health was still too fragile to chance with something like a late spring chill or storm. I had an oiled canvas sheet that would keep most of the dew off me, and hold up to at least a light rain. I put it over my bedroll and blanket, settling in for my dreaming meditation.

When I emerged into my sanctum, my spirit was more at peace. While dark and angry, the clouds overhead were blessedly free of lightning. It seemed the poisoned mana I had taken from my ward’s soul sickness had not pushed me back to the brink. That at least, was good news. The silver pool of my usable mana was dangerously low however, and a steady stream now flowed from it. Draining from me to fuel Myta’s physical recovery, no doubt. I spent some time calming the clouds overhead. Not shedding the foul aspect out into the world as I’d needed to do previously, but slowly, steadily, purifying the mana. I washed the greed of the viridian contagion from my system, but then I encountered a more serious problem.

Cleansing even a portion of Myta’s soul sickness had left me with a considerable portion of corrupted mana. As I attempted to soothe its aspect, I found that I simply couldn’t. Normally I would clear my mind, and allow the calmness of my soul to settle whatever was disturbing my mana. But this wasn’t my mana. It was hers, and I was simply holding it for her. Our souls were too close now, and her sickness too cohesive, for me to incorporate the mana myself. Clearly this was why my mana was retaining its aspect within her as well. To purify this mana, her sickness would need to be healed completely first. Until then I was stuck confining it. Worse, there was a great deal more of this mana that she was still holding. I could hardly afford to dedicate that much of my spirit.

With no other recourse coming to mind, I began to compress the tainted mana. Handling it felt unclean and dangerous, like gripping the blade of a rusty knife. I needed to forge the mana as densely as I could, without allowing it to solidify into anima. The divines only knew what having a shard of this inside of me would do. When I finished that nerve-wracking task I took a short rest, while verifying that new mana was beginning to flow into me again. Staring, at the black-red sliver of poison hanging in my internal sky.

When I’d had the chance to catch my breath, figuratively speaking at least, I began to walk along the stream of mana that was flowing away from me. Gray mist began to haze the air around me and a familiar feeling of cobwebs brushed over my skin. All of it much less oppressive than the last time I’d been here. Normally it would be much more difficult to find my way to another person’s inner world. For most sorcerers it was all but impossible. But now, with the bond between us, and our mana flowing back and forth? It was as easy as taking a short walk.

I found my way to the center of Myta’s spirit with ease. Though as formless as it was here, only the flow of mana let me know when I had reached it. I ignored the shadows lurking out in the fog this time, I had a different purpose tonight. The mana stream ended in a small pool, bubbling and steaming, tinged with a bright orange light, it had the appearance of molten metal almost. Strangely the fiery pool felt somehow welcoming, like a bright doorway promising shelter on a dark night. Kneeling beside the pool, I put my hand to its surface, careful not to disturb it. I’d no desire to frighten her, and a clumsy contact between souls could be deeply jarring.

“Myta, come to me.” I bent my will to the words, and immediately she was before me, standing atop the pool of mana. Her eyes took in our surroundings without surprise or judgement. She was quite deeply asleep, and I needed to bring her to lucidity, without waking her. Taking her hand, I drew her off the pool, then turned her around to look at it instead. I wrapped my arms around her waist to keep her steady and grounded.

“Do you see that, Myta? This pool of liquid fire inside you is your mana. I’m going to teach you how to use it, but before I can, you need to focus on it, and focus on my voice. Can you do that? Good. Just focus.” I kept up my dialogue until she began to stir. The feel of her starting to squirm in my grip was… distractingly pleasant. I found myself reflexively pinning her tighter against me, before I remembered why I was here. I released her then, and she turned to look at me.

Perhaps unsurprisingly, the fire touched woman had a very defined sense of self. She appeared much as I’d seen her at her physical peak, during the visions of her training. She lacked most of her old scars and injuries, though the ritual scars on her forearms remained. Her hair was loose, falling to the middle of her back, and had a richer color than it currently did in the waking world. A little extra weight made her body just a little softer, her muscles a little less sharply defined. Apparently her self image did not include clothing, though I saw the faint outline of a polearm of some sort over her shoulder. That lack afforded me a very pleasant view.

“This place is familiar.” Her voice was sweet and resonant, a little lower pitched than I had heard before.

“This is your inner world, the place your dreams emerge from. It is also where you harness your mana, and work to strengthen your soul.” I gestured to the pool. “Before you can control your mana, you must define your inner world. I need you to form an image in your mind, a place where you feel at home, and then within that place, an object that represents the core of your being. The images can be whatever you wish, but they should come naturally to you. You must build them up in your mind, to the point that they feel real.”

Nodding resolutely, she closed her eyes. I expected this to take quite some time. Most prospective sorcerers took weeks or months to lay the foundations of their inner world. To my shock however, the mist began receding within a few minutes. Ground appeared beneath my feet, covered with a mix of leaf litter, moss, and young grass. Mountains appeared, surrounded the valley in which I now stood. The last of the gray mist remained as a patchy, low lying fog. I almost choked when I realized that the landscape she was creating was a compliment to my own.

In the center of this valley, a green shoot rose from the ground. It grew rapidly into a sapling, and then continued to rise higher and higher. It matured as an oak tree, twisting against unseen forces. Pushing towards the sky, even as decay began to infect its bark. Branches that began straight became gnarled, groaning and crackling under their own weight. Leaves sprouted on its limbs, only to wither and crumble. Hanging dead on the branches densely enough to block out the moonlight from the sky above.

This was the true vision of my student’s soul. Magnificent, even in the face of torturous decay. I knew, in that very moment, that I would never willingly let her go.