It was already morning of the next day when Morena arrived in a private study on the eastern wing, unbothered by the noise and clutter of the servants.
After a short conversation the previous night, she ordered Hark to keep an eye on the clerk from a distance, but not to engage directly unless he was endangered. She also ordered him to regularly leave the ’cure’ to the ’poison’ she forced the man to eat, sowhere he could find it.
The reason she decided to use the study instead of her bedroom was simple; it was small, two shelves, a squat table scarred by cups, a window that was tinted dark.
It was a place that was quiet, far outside the common paths of almost everyone in the house, so she didn’t need to worry about being interrupted. And most importantly, no one would look for her here.
She took a seat on a large couch with a table in front of her, a small cup of warm tea, and an empty notebook placed on top of it. She then leaned back and called out softly.
"AI."
[Listening.]
"You’ve already scanned and sorted everything from Corin’s stuff, correct? Show each one separately, and categorize them. Cross-link with what we’ve already recorded from the library and archive."
[Understood.]
She placed her hand under her chin, rubbing it softly as various screens filled with information appeared within her sight; countless displays, filled with symbols, diagrams, and writing, filled them.
[Displaying...]
Each screen displayed a different section, and beyond the countless bits of information on them, the AI helped her break each one down to the key points. That made it easier for her to read through them, then decide which to focus on.
[Section: Energy Theories]
Corin’s notes explained that elental energy and what the wizards used, sothing he called mana, were not the sa thing.
Elental energy existed everywhere, raw and unshaped, like smoke drifting in the air. Anyone with an elental core could sense it faintly, even if they couldn’t use it. But mana only appeared after a person drew that energy inward and refined it within the mind.
That refinent was what made it stable, sothing that could actually be put into greater use.
He described it as smoke pressed into oil—heavier, lasting, able to burn. Without refinent, it could only be used to enhance the body, maybe perform attacks; that’s what warriors do.
His early trials showed more failures than successes:
Trying to force elental energy into himself without refinent left him dizzy and sick, the energy scattering as soon as he tried to use it.
Absorbing too much at once caused violent rejection. He wrote of collapsing with chest pains, vomiting, and a burning ache through his skull. His margin note was clear: Never take in more than you can filter.
Drinking dulled the sense completely. He warned not to attempt it under the influence of anything that slowed the mind.
But eventually, he managed to refine just a little. He wrote that the first sign of success was not heat or cold, but pressure—a faint weight resting between the brows. From there, it spread like a thread running outward.
"When mana is weak, it flickers. When it is strong, it pushes, and the letters respond."
That was what Morena could understand from the information: Mana was the driving force to control the letters; without it, the letters would only react passively.
Corin’s theory was simple: the letters could not function with raw elental energy; it would only conduct them. They needed mana to ’click’ into place, to lock their shapes and flow.
He compared the difference between warriors and wizards, collecting a lot of notes about what made them different, and, in his own opinion, filled in the details.
Warriors condensed raw elental energy into their core and through their flesh. Through this, they would slowly use the unrefined elental energy to power the body. At higher levels, the sheer amount of elental energy made up for the lack of refinent and allowed them to use elental attacks.
On the other hand, Wizards condensed it into the mind. They did not use raw elental energy but rather refined mana, and while it was usually lower in quantity in the early stages, it allowed them more control over it.
"For warriors, the body is the temple. For wizards, the mind is the altar."
That was the conclusion she ca to. Both took different paths, but they didn’t have the sa comparable effect. While for most the path of a Warrior was the easiest one, its effectiveness couldn’t be compared to that of a Wizard.
"But it’s obviously not that easy to refine this, mana, otherwise any warrior would be able to do it."
Morena paused for a mont and thought. If it were easy to refine mana, then Wizards wouldn’t be as rare as they were now; they wouldn’t be re tales in the Kingdom, ones that the church kept hidden.
There had to be so sort of requirent, but this section didn’t ntion how to sense that mana, so that was her next focus.
"Show the data on sensing in."
[Section: Sensing]
Corin’s notes on sensing and refining mana were scattered, obsessive. He wrote of sleepless nights spent chasing a faint dream, a distant desire, of weeks wasted holding his breath until his ribs ached, of years wandering for scraps of knowledge.
At first, all his trials were failures, years upon years of nothing. No matter what he tried, it all failed, and try he did. There were dozens of notes about different experints, all trying to trigger a feeling.
Holding his breath until his chest burned did nothing but leave him lightheaded. Forcing focus on the pulse in his fingertips led to cramping hands and no result. Fasting left him delirious, not enlightened.
He recorded whole seasons wasted repeating failures, convinced he was missing so hidden step. It wasn’t the notes of a man with a passion, but the notes of a man with an obsession.
At so point during his years of experintation, it stopped being a passion he chased and started being an end he ran from.
The breakthrough only ca after he traveled farther, asking questions in dark alleys and borders, chasing whispers from old n and beggars alike. He eventually pieced together what proper wizards used: ditation thods.
From the information he gathered, he ca to the conclusion that the essence of every ditation thod was the sa—the creation of what he called a matrix.
This matrix was not physical. It existed only in the mind, a construct ford of symbols that could be ’spun’ during ditation. When stable, it pulled unrefined elental energy inward and ground it down into mana, steady and controlled.
Here lay the first true wall: not anyone could create a matrix. It required a mind strong enough to hold the design without breaking, a will sharp enough to keep it spinning.
That was why, according to him, elental affinity was not the most important trait for a wizard. A strong mind was. Without it, the matrix collapsed the mont it ford, and no mana could be refined.
In so rumors he collected, if the matrix were to collapse at the wrong mont, one could go mad, losing one’s mind from the weight of its destruction.
His notes detailed the structure he uncovered through secondhand accounts.
A novice, what was called an apprentice wizard, could only form a single-symbol matrix. With this, they could refine mana slowly but consistently. Forming this matrix was what was required to beco an official apprentice.
Advancing ant adding symbols, weaving them together into more complex matrices. From his speculation, a second symbol marked the true step into becoming a formal wizard.
Higher ranks were only theories to him. He never encountered anyone who could describe them directly, only fragnts suggesting that each stage of growth added another layer to the matrix.
Corin’s frustration bled into the notes, and his words were written with complex emotions behind them: he never found a proper ditation thod. Without it, he could not shape even a single symbol, no matter how many tricks or rituals he tried.
He called it the barrier that kept him on the outside, trapped with scraps while true wizards walked past him.
Still, he left clear warnings. Attempting to force a matrix without the proper thod led to failure every ti. The energy would scatter, leaving him drained, with headaches that lasted days.
Morena lingered over those lines. She could almost feel the echo of it herself—the faint tremor she felt when Corin had stirred the dust spiral in the granary, the hum that had crawled along her own carved letters beneath the skin.
Perhaps it was rudintary, but it seed she had accidentally touched upon sothing similar to what was described. It was wrong; not one in the mind but in the body, not one that refined mana but flowed elental energy.
But it was infinitely similar.
Yet mana wasn’t sothing you could stumble into. You needed a thod, you needed the matrix. You needed a mind sharp enough to bind it all together.
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