'Strangers' and strangers

[A/N: Co-written with ScarletRabbit.]

Eamon breathed a deep sigh. His hand moved quickly, getting some hair out of his vision. Dark skies loomed above, millions of stars visible in their immaculate constellations. The Moon sat within the dark embrace of cold space, reflecting plentiful light onto the scenery below. The scent of burned bark marked the air in the dead forest. The stark plants, once a symbol of life, were broken down in many parts, their surfaces black as ****. The mostly dry mud beneath his feet parted under his weight as the old elf stepped forth. Everything appeared to be covered in a thin layer of ash.

Eventually, he came to a halt, his eyes glancing at the silver moon up above. The glistening surface cast an array of rays downward, illuminating the dark place and slightly alleviating the gloomy look.

"I know you're there. Come out," Eamon's voice sept with power that appeared to bend the air around his being. With but a quick exhale, the elderly elf created a powerful current that caused several trees around to let out ominously creaky noises. A massive cloud of ash rose before being swept in all directions, clearing out the area.

"I wasn't hiding," he heard a response.

Eamon's amber eyes scanned over the man sitting atop a branch of a dead oak, high above his position. His posture appeared tall even from the distance, and his violet eyes glimmered with intelligence seldom seen in any human. The white hair of roughly elbow length was unkempt, suggesting that the man had taken little care of his hygiene lately.

Sitting on the branch with his back to the tree, the man had a solemn expression reminiscent of longing mixed with concern as he traced the sky slowly. Placing his ragged hand against the tree bark, he exerted a bit of **** and swung his legs, causing his center of gravity to shift off the branch. Soaring downward through the air, the man traversed nearly 30 meters before landing on the ground. Dirt erupted from his position but did not stain his bright tunic or dark pants.

"I see you're getting pretty comfortable with my Dreamscape, ahjussi?" he asked, a tiny smirk gracing his face as he made a couple of steps forward before leaning on a tree.

"Wouldn't say 'comfortable'. Just 'accustomed'. Never expected that I would miss having that old body of mine," Eamon almost chuckled in response before sitting on a tree's exposed root.

"Surprising how much of the material world you begin missing after just a couple of days, no?"

Eamon sighed. His amber eyes met the human's violet as their expressions stiffened up. The ash started falling like snow all around them.

"What happened?" he asked, cutting the small talk short.

The human's eyes looked to the side. Raising a hand, he traced the tree's burned bark before looking to the sky for but a moment. His hair glistened. Getting it out of his face, he exposed his small, round ears, one of which appeared partially cut off.

"...Thines intervened," he replied shortly.

"...what?" the silver-haired elf said on half-breath. His heartbeat accelerated. Trembling surged in his hands as his palms sweatened. Taking a deep breath, he attempted to calm himself down. "That's... way too soon. We should still have a week... why? Did they sense us already?"

"No. She kept a watch. A trigger spell around the veil itself. Once the kid broke through it, she took action," the human sighed, his voice tinted with anger. He clenched his fists, the thick knuckles becoming nigh-white in an instant. His hair swayed, hitting a few dusty particles.

"...tsk," Eamon clicked his tongue, getting a hold of himself. "What a mess. Couldn't you have done anything? Anything at all?" the elf inquired, his voice sounding with a bit of silent hope.

"You know that I'm severely weakened as I am. I already tested the extent of my power. Our minds are not synced enough for me to take over. Pulling him into my Dreamscape was already challenging enough. On top of that, it's a demigod we're talking about. Would you feel confident about facing Rizgol, even at your prime?"

Eamon did not answer, instead looking into the forest for a prolonged moment.

"Exactly. Even you, the greatest Mage of the Eternal War, can only face one of them with support. Was it not for Adlin's aid, you wouldn't have invoked the world's will, either."

"Are you saying we're done for?"

"That I did not say. Thines did not detect us," the violet-eyed man answered. "On top of that, she crossed the boundary. For at least a while, she won't be able to intervene further. Until that happens, we need to strengthen his mentality to resist her."

"...plan B, it is," Eamon sighed deeply. 'I hoped to avoid that.'

"It appears so."

"Do you think he'll listen?"

"...he'll have to," the human's hair swung in the wind. Arms crossed on his chest, he expulsed some air. "It's all or nothing. We can't give him a chance to falter. He has to gain power if he is to stand a chance."

"That's what I'm worried about. He's not as radical as you."

"Let the flower bloom before you decide its value, ahjussi," the human's violet eyes glistened momentarily. "Determination is a very dangerous trait to have. You battered the stakes into his head. You can bet on his overanalytical mind to do the rest of the work for us. We simply need to guide him to the fastest way to power. Thines caused us a setback, but it's not the end of things. Let's foster his growth personally."

"...haaah," Eamon shook his head lightly before getting up. "I find it annoying you appear prepared for that."

The white-haired man smirked. His eyes gleamed dangerously, showing to Eamon the power lurking within.

"Let's make sure Adlin's sacrifice was not in vain."

-Meanwhile-

Quiet rumbling sounded. Lucas got a hand to his stomach, silently urging his organ to not make noise again. The constricting feeling of emptiness was unrelenting; he had skipped most of the meals since Friday evening. Hunger was eating him from within.

He turned on his bed. How long has it been since Thines visited? Must've been hours. Checking the time was not an option, but he was certain the hour must've been very late. Near midnight, perhaps. Yet, he has not fallen asleep for a minute. The aftermath of what happened was too much for him.

'...frustrating.' the thought rang within his consciousness. He sighed before slowly sitting up. The darkness of the room was slightly perturbed by the dim light of the manalamp on the wall. His stomach constricted again. A short yawn escaped Lucas's mouth as he got up and dressed. 'I'll get something to eat.' he decided, stepping into the corridor.

His steps were quiet. Within a minute or so, he was entering the room where he usually ate his meals, more often than not with Nimue.

The place was devoid of anyone bar himself. The manalamps hanging on the walls were all dim, signaling that Ina had long since left the place and gone to her room.

However, this was not a problem in the slightest for Lucas.

'<Keen Senses>.'

In an instant, the dim atmosphere brightened up. Truthfully, even without that, going about in the room wouldn't be difficult - nearly forty points of Insight were more than just for show. His violet eyes scanned the room, quickly locating the other door leading to the kitchen.

It took him a little over five minutes to prepare himself some bread. Deciding against going for a fancy meal, the young Stormrider only stuffed it with some vegetables that were lying around, preparing several helpings - he knew that making up for the void in his meals would not be as simple as a single one. A few minutes passed, and he alternated between eating and preparing more food. His hunger, at least for a moment, was insatiable.

'...maybe I can go for a walk to clear my head better.' he decided, munching on his food. Grabbing a few pieces of bread, he walked to the door leading into the underground corridor. 'I'll use the servant passage. Surely, nobody will be around at this time of the night.' he nodded to himself, taking his steps forward quickly. Lurking in the underground corridor, he took a few turns before the way led him upward. However, unlike the main road that would've taken him to the main corridors on the ground floor, this one took him to a small door in the eastern part of the manor. This was the passage used by the servants of the house. He had used it several times in his life.

Opening the door, he felt the chilly air flow right past him. A pleasant feeling swept across him as he felt every last fiber of his exposed skin come into contact with the embrace that combated the manor's temperature. The night sky was clear, giving way to millions of glimmering stars. Did they seem a little brighter than he remembered...? He decided against pondering.

Taking a slow bite, Lucas stepped onto the path leading forth. Taking a turn at some point, he soon reached the garden. It was a space that was his second favorite in the entire plot of land his family owned. In the library, he could seek all the knowledge he wanted. In here, he could feel... serene. Free.

He found his way to a bench deep between a few bushes and sat on it. Leaning on its support, the white-haired man stared into the sky. The Moon was in the shape of a waning crescent, showering the earth below with some light, but only enough to barely make out one's surroundings.

The numerous plants around him gave off faint, pleasant smells, intertwining and mixing. A couple of small flowers had their coronas open, adding their scents to the mixture, while lush grass covered every last bit of ground. Taking in the sights, Lucas exhaled lightly. Taking another bite, he suddenly flinched.

'Wait a second.' he frowned. Taking a short second to munch the food, he felt its taste. '...I didn't cancel <Keen Senses>.' a realization struck him. His heart beat slightly faster. 'How long has it been, about 15 minutes? And I... I don't even feel it...' a subconscious smirk formed on his face. Typically, he'd have turned his skill when he'd feel a constricting feeling press against his lower spine, which told him that the mana used to fuel that skill was too much for his mana channels to handle. 'It's gone. That stupid mana blo--!'

*Cough!*

The pain hit him suddenly, feeling exactly how he remembered it should. Lucas spat out what was in his mouth, coughing vehemently. Some blood entered his mouth as he frantically canceled his skill. Spitting to his side, he slowly felt his body calm down.

'What? I thought it was gone...?' his face contorted, expressing his bewilderment. 'Status.'

[Lucas Stormrider (Age: 19)

Class: Hybrid Class (Dream Walker / ???)

Level: 2

[HP: 483/488

MP: 1102/1379

WP: 424/424]

'...it did consume quite some mana. 20 per minute is the cost of <Keen Senses>, meaning that it was active for... nearly 14 minutes. Compared to just 30 seconds it used to be, this is a huge increase, but... why? This does not seem like a coincidence. Did I even get any impurities out at all, then?' he put a hand on his chin, his brows furrowing slightly.

The disease known as 'mana block'. It was a problem stemming from a Mage's connection to the mana.

If 'mana' were to be expressed in a way understandable to anyone, it was simply a 'flow of magic'. In other words, it was a special type of water that could exhibit particular attributes when correct forces were applied.

Just like how water flowing in rivers carries sediments - dust, gravel, dirt, or anything in between - mana could also contain pollutants. Those were the 'impurities'. Over time, they could enter anyone's body, slowly accumulating within one person's mana veins. The amount of those impurities corresponded to the difficulty of expulsing clean mana. If enough were gathered, using magic could become harmful.

Many cultures have devised methods to pull them out - a process known as 'mana decontamination'. The first efficient approach was developed in Riverut more than 500 years ago. It involved invoking the mana from the atmosphere to propagate circulation within a person's inner systems, akin to flushing a dirty pipe with hot water. The method's effectiveness justified its risks - perturbations in mana or incorrectness in the sigil drawn could rupture one's veins, rendering some, if not all, of their mana unusable. Stories of old circulated the continent like a flock of birds, telling of people who still managed grand feats despite such handicaps, but they were far and few between.

Inallel's method was similar in its workings. It revolved around simulating the mana flow to drag the pollutants out by forcing an activation of magic. Rather than invoking the mana from the air, it **** direct movement within a person's mana veins. If Riverut's method was 'flushing the pipe with hot water', Inallel's was 'soaking the pipe in a gentle stream'. It took far more time, but its overall efficiency was similar to Riverut's method and was much safer.

Lucas had tried both of those methods a couple of times. Not a single time did they work. He also attempted Melidan's laborious method of manually stimulating the flow several times.

And yet, nothing ever helped his state.

Clerics called to him by his father had come to a simple conclusion: his veins had too many impurities. Removing the contaminants was no different from removing his whole mana system. That was also why Lucas could not form a mana core - the sheer amount of pollutants heavily outweighed the pure mana required for the process. Even if he could create a core, there was no guarantee that he wouldn't die in the process.

But now, this situation was... different.

Lucas did not adhere to the original Riverut method. Under Eamon's guidance, he performed alterations. But how did they result in this situation...?

Lucas could only frown before sighing.

'I don't even know how to approach this.' he sighed before leaning forth, putting his elbows atop his knees. 'For now, I'll try to rest and then come up with some theories. Perhaps Professor Riven can help me find an answer... I have classes with her first thing in the morning.'

He relaxed his position, taking another bite. The food he had left was minimal, and he aimed to savor it before returning.

Suddenly, he heard a quiet rumbling sound. Lucas's eyes shot to his left, toward the mansion. What came into his field of view was a woman.

He remembered her shapely form that could not be concealed fully by the cloak she decided not to wear now. The light night dress fluttered in the gentle breeze, showing the man that she did not wear any footwear at this time, her small and graceful feet brushing against the grass gently. Her fair skin appeared to glimmer ever so slightly in the Moon's light. The deep green hair that knocked on the back of her knees looked nearly black. The stare of her blue eyes was calm, but it also appeared to radiate a bit of hunger as she aimed her orbs at the sandwich in his hand.

Lucas's head exploded with one thought.

'The Liveren Princess!'

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