Tirren was not at all confident in his ability to survive this encounter, much less deliver the beating that had been promised by the guard captain. A voice growled into his mind as the fighting broke out again.

  KILL HER AND TAKE HER MANA STONE.

  Tirren didn’t know what a mana stone was, and if he had, he would have shuddered at the horrendously evil concept it was. He was forced to put that all aside, throw his weight into a defensive block, which caught the incoming arm attached to the punch aimed at his face, and redirect the force.

  He kicked at Tomadi, and instead of delivering force, used his connected kick to push himself away in a leap, creating some space.

  GIVE ME YOUR AGENCY. I WILL CRUSH THIS MORTAL.

  Tirren hadn’t realized the effort of maintaining independence had lessened, but he felt another surge of alien force attempting to control him. Locking down his psychic control of himself he swung his mana rod.

  Tomadi evaded it quickly, and hit him sharply in the head and the ribs before dancing backwards. She glanced around, then attacked again. She took the mana rod strike on her shoulder with a dull thump, but then she was inside Tirren’s reach, and she delivered a knee strike which hit him in the stomach and the world turned red with pain. He fell to the ground to a chorus of other hits and a stomp which bounced his head off the road.

  Tirren huddled there on the ground until the woman was gone; fighting the whole time for his agency. After several minutes of categorizing bruises, Jefremov was helping him to his feet.

  “Well done, I think you almost had her!”

  “Why, why did you do that to me, you maniac? She outclassed my progression by three miles. You’re a member of the guard. You should have protected me.”

  “She was bound and chained, I do apologize. In hindsight, that may have been unwise. I watched you fight earlier and assumed you would win. I have rarely seen such a low level seidren fight with such capability as you did against Tomadi.”

  Tirren blushed, and stammered. “Thank you, captain, but I assure you that my fighting is best done with Seidren in the same weight class.”

  Jefromov arched an eyebrow. “It’s no fun fighting fair fights, you’ve got to win them all!” His eyes flicked to the large ring with the red signet on it which hung from Tirren’s finger.

  “Where did you find your ring?”

  “In the forest, sir. It is a rather new acquisition.”

  “Well, that is fortunate indeed. I have just come from the border post. I’ll need some new clothes. May I travel with you and yours?” Jefremov said this with a dramatic gesture at his shredded clothing.

  “Captain, you can requisition this carriage if you’d like.”

  “Very well, Tirren. Come on, let’s get to Varnell.”

  Together they returned to the carriage, which they once again locked up. A very disheveled and unhappy looking Tomadi could be seen through the barred window. Tirren hadn’t realized Jefremov had the time to fight her as well.

  The boy, Severin, was sitting sullenly on the front bench.

  Tirren sat once again at his place, and took up the reins. He set the horses into motion and the carriage set off again at its brisk pace.

  “I’m not even worth a space in the locked carriage.” The boy muttered self-effacingly.

  “You are a simple mortal. You aren’t Seidren yet. Why are you mixed up with the prisoners?” Tirren asked.

  “She is my master, I was promised that if I studied and worked hard enough, she would enlighten me, and help me take the steps towards Seidren. I need to be Seidren.”

  “Why? You could file to register for citizenship in Serventis. We accept people like you, and you could be safe.”

  “I don’t want safe, I want power. I need power. The Seidren in my town thought that my family were too influential, so they put us in our place. I had to leave my home and find a school that would teach me. My family has no hope. But the lead feather fighting school needed me to prove my loyalty. Without Tomadi, I’ll never be able to fight for my family.”

  This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

  There was silence as Tirren mulled over what he had heard. “How long have you been proving your loyalty?”

  “Two years.”

  “She was definitely using you for free labor.”

  “No way, she has hon…”

  A voice interrupted them from inside the carriage.

  “He’s right, boy. I can’t be giving away the prized secrets of my power to a stranger from a neighboring city. That would spell ruin for my school and sect. I won’t risk it.”

  The silence hung in the air, and Tirren realized that every prisoner had been idly listening. He should have realized when he hadn’t heard the singing.

  Jefromov was standing up from the guard’s position at the back of the trailer and walked along the roof to get to the front, where he leaned his feet over the edge , so his shins were swinging alongside the level of Tirren’s head.

  He clapped his hands. “I’ve now blocked our friends in the carriage from listening to our conversation. Severin. I’m impressed. You show initiative and commitment such as I’ve been hard pressed to find. I have an offer for you. I want two additional years of your life. I will take Tomadi’s place as your master. You will swear yourself to me. In those two years, I will give you power enough to level your village and build a palace in its place.”

  “I’m done with empty promises.” Severin responded, but Tirren could tell that he had restrained hope in his voice.

  “As a gesture of good faith. I will teach you right here and now how to progress to root.”

  The boy’s head jumped up, but he responded. “Sir, with all due respect, I haven’t sensed the mana in over two and half years.”

  “But, If you can help me achieve root level Seidren. I will swear myself to you.” Severin said fervently.

  “Come to the roof with me.” The boy clambered up, and almost fell several times, before he was seated on the relatively flat roof of the carriage facing the Devrius.

  “Put your hands together like mine.” The noble instructed. Severin did so, with his thumb, pointer, and ring fingers steepled, and his middle fingers knuckles resting together and small fingers laying adjacent to each other.

  Tirren pretended not to be listening and watching intensely.

  “The first step of Seidren is called root. It is the beginning of what some refer to as the organic arc. Seidr is the ancient word for mana. Seidren use, feel, and express mana. Root is a step in which you must awaken your mana sense. There are other senses that come to Seidren, but the organic arc will all pertain to mana.

  Mana is everywhere. In its ambient form, it is unrestricted, and passes through material objects freely. It exists around us. In order to step into the world of Seidren, you must choose to become aware of the mana. You place roots into your soul that allow your mind to sense mana.

  Severin was listening intently.

  This step is inherently connected to your second chakra, located in your abdomen. You achieve root when you are able to sense mana. It is not manasight, which comes later, but a gut instinct of the presence of mana.

  This initial step is sometimes taken by everyday people, who are surrounded by mana. They get the instinct, and unwittingly progress to root. For others, this stage may often take much meditation to feel the ambient mana. Keep your eyes closed. You should feel it deep in your stomach, and it will almost feel like it touches your backbone. Do you sense anything?”

  There was silence for an extended pause. The boy was intent. Finally, after twenty or so minutes, Tirren wasn’t counting, the boy said quietly. “No.”

  A strange fire appeared in one of Jefromov’s hands. It was strangely spherical, and didn’t quite match Tirren’s experience with fire. He stood up and walked to Severin’s left, then put the fire between his hands, where it grew in size, a burnt orange sphere of fire. He then walked around to the other side.

  Severin sat with his brow clenched in concentration.

  Jefremov threw both of his hands to the side in a dramatic gesture and the fireball left his hand, raised itself in the air about thirty feet, and exploded into a massive fireball, which slowly began dispersing and forming into a tornado of fire, which circled the carriage almost forty feet in diameter. Tirren felt the heat, and pulled on the reins as the horses tried to spook. The tornado was emitting quite a bit of heat, but not nearly as much as Tirren would have expected.

  There was a rushing sound and Tirren couldn’t help but reflect that his gut mana sense was telling him that mana was everywhere.

  This was Pearl. Tirren risked opening his manasight after he had calmed the horses, and was simply awed. The firestorm had fire aspect mana, but invisible currents of other mana whisked along with it. It was a terrible conflagration that was even more awe-inspiring when viewed in that lens.

  “Take your hand symbol and bring it to your chest!” Jefromov shouted. “Now release it, pull it apart and feel the mana!”

  A blue letter, reminiscent of the Serventistic letter W appeared in the air over Severin, and he opened his eyes wide with a gasp. Because Tirren’s mana sight was open, he watched as ambient mana rushed into Severin, seeming to sink into him like water in a drain.

  Jefremov was laughing as the firestorm dissipated into the evening air.

  “Severin, Severin, we are going to have so much fun!”

  Severin looked up with wonder, and then the unexpected occurred. The boy hit Jefremov with an intense hug, and buried his face into his chest. The noble looked decidedly uncomfortable and worried. He patted the boy awkwardly on the head.

  Tirren looked away, and couldn’t help but feel a pang of jealousy.

  MAYBE YOU CAN GIVE THE RING TO THAT ONE? HE AT LEAST SEEMS TO HAVE POTENTIAL.

  “Ah, shut up.”