Tirren missed Serventis about an hour after they left the border. They rode their mana bikes, through rugged terrain, and the ground sloped upwards the entire time. Tirren could make out mountain peaks in the far distance, but they seemed impossibly far away.

  As Tirren rode behind Jefremov, he sat up in surprise as the man raised his hand and a fireball formed then exploded upwards. Tirren looked up and in a panic realized that several large birds circled them, each of them with one or two riders astride them.

  “Roc Riders!” Jef called. “Don’t worry about them.” He continued to fire haphazard fireballs whose concussive force threatened to overbalance Tirren if he got too close. The Roc riders continued to circle, and it was only after an hour or so of dodging fireballs that they left Jefremov and his two young Seidren alone.

  Rock snakes attacked later, enormous snakes that had decided that the group looked tasty. Jefremov had turned his mana bike over to Severin, and had sat backwards on the seat behind him, shooting hyper focused beams of fire. He seemed to be enjoying himself.

  Tirren had trouble appreciating the mirthful feelings, and by the end of their first day outside Serventis, they had been attacked five times. Jefremov thought each attack had been increasingly funny.

  That night, Tirren was pulled roughly from his bed by stone hands, and had been dragged several feet before he felt the intense heat of fire over his head. The creature that had been concerned with Tirren had left with concern about about the smoke rising from it’s skin.

  Later, stone trolls had come upon the camp. Severin and Tirren had moved their sleeping rolls close to the fire, and Jefremov cheerily walked around the clearing for most of the night.

  “How do people live out here?” Tirren complained to Jefremov.

  Severin surprised everyone by answering. “It’s got to be your mana somehow. I snuck in with a small group of non-seidren, and all of the monsters and magical beasts ignored us. Plus this is wild country, and it doesn’t look like there are any ruling Seidren here.”

  “Yes indeed!” Jefremov grunted as he grabbed a struggling troll in his arms, then punted him out of their camp site. “What I tell you next typically comes later in a Seidren’s education, but I think this is a great time to work on a mana veil.

  Disciples, meditation poses. Assume your focus grip and concentrate on your mana well.”

  “Jef, I don’t have a mana well.”

  “Focus on the area between your heart and your spine. It is where you will want it.”

  Tirren did just that, focusing on his mana well.

  “The first thing you will do is to calm your base chakra. This chakra is located in the base of your spine. This chakra draws in mana. From the first time you become a seidren, this chakra is open and drawing in mana. You must contain that force. Secondly, you must surround your mana well with a barrier from your mind, using your psychic energy.

  Magical creatures, be it monster, devil, beast, Seidren, or angel have very fine mana senses. Some get hungry and need creatures with mana, Others that are magical, will try to eat you, even if not necessary. All will focus on and find you if you allow them to see you.

  Seidren with a Psychic will find this task incredibly easy, but that won’t stop you Tirren, I’m sure. Severin, of course you must only calm your base chakra. Your task is much easier.

  Tirren and Severin spent the next hour or so, until Jef deemed their efforts passable. The troll attack had died down, and the three of them took shifts as watch.

  The next two weeks blurred together in a cycle of training, survival, with Jefremov disappearing on mysterious errands. Tirren stood on his hands, deep into a meditative state. He slowly bent his arms as he did, then he straightened them and used the momentum to push himself up onto his fingertips. He stayed there, his fingertips straining to hold his weight, as he remained upside down, his mind calm.

  It had been a rewarding, yet frustrating two weeks since his departure with Jefremov Devrius. Severin often asked for pointers, and he had for the first time touched mana, which had gained him the rank of Grass Seidren.

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  Tirren had started writing down any “wisdom” he could gain from Ivarmarktarius, and he shared those covertly with Severin. He had initially been hesitant to share the knowledge, remembering his own slow progress, but ultimately, the thought of the outlanders who hoarded their knowledge in order to keep power and control over others eventually persuaded him that he would not stoop to that level.

  Tirren had managed to glean insight from the demon to form two different rituals. The ritual of suffusion was quite simple. Tirren couldn’t use it consciously yet, but it entailed a meditative state of drawing mana out of your mana well, but not casting or using it, keeping it between the mana well and a point of expression. It was kind of like breathing out with your mouth closed, and it caused an uncomfortable pressure. Then it was a process of layering, and the mana would, with difficulty, suffuse into your body. Tirren was using this technique to empower his body and enable his training.

  The other ritual Tirren had gotten to work had been a ritual of mana growth. The demon called it the “wineskin theory” ritual. He had hinted that there were more advanced and technical mana well growth rituals, but Tirren wouldn’t ever be ready for them. The ritual basically entailed pulling mana into one’s mana well as hard as they could, and suppressing all expression. It was like stretching a wineskin by blowing into it. Tirren couldn’t tell a marked difference in his mana well, but he still kept at it.

  Tirren lowered himself from his meditation and “Wineskin stretching”, then set himself a fair distance from his least favorite tree in the clearing. He set himself up across from it, then stuck two of the fingers out on his right hand and held his left palm open over them. He concentrated his mana into the space between his hands, and a line of mana that was barely apparent began to form. It was a mana dart. It was composed of base mana, with force mana aspects in it.

  Mark the demon had laughed it to shame, but when cornered on it, he had admitted that it was technically a mana attack, however he made sure Tirren knew that was only in name.

  HAVE YOU REFLECTED ON AN ASPECT YOU WILL CHOOSE? YOU WILL WANT TO PREPARE YOUR MANA WELL FOR THAT ASPECT. I HAVE SEVERAL RECOMMENDATIONS.

  “I won’t use the deathtoxin aspect. I asked Jef about it and he explained it was a forbidden aspect in Serventis. Simply teaching it could lead to severe punishments.”

  THEY ARE SIMPLE MINDED FOR THEIR IGNORANCE, BUT WISE FOR THEIR FEAR, DEATHTOXIN ASPECT IS WONDERFULLY TERRIFYING. AFTER THOUGHT, I THINK THAT FELLISH FIRE WOULD SUIT MY NEEDS WHEN I TAKE YOUR CORPUS FOR MY OWN.

  Tirren tried to ignore that threat, and partially succeeded. While it sounded cool, he would likely not align his mana with the fires of hell.

  Tirren had formed the mana dart in the air between his pointer and thumb of his right hand, and he threw it. It crossed the clearing and slammed into the trunk of a tree where it hit concussively, exploding and peeling bark from the exterior of the tree.

  Tirren’s training was interrupted by the sound of Severin’s entrance into the clearing.

  Severin’s slightly shaggy hair had gotten a little longer in their time together, with a small patch of boyish hair starting to show up on his chin. He was skinny, with light skin and dark blue eyes.

  Tirren had seen the way the boy worshiped Jefremov. Jefremov had used his mana capabilities to progress Severin quickly, and the boy loved him for it. Tirren had tried to talk to Severin, and had learned the boy was from outside Serventis, an old town called Bjevin.

  “I am still at grass level. I can feel the location where my mana well belongs, but it is a huge undertaking to form the well.” Severin told Tirren, and his frustration and impatience was clear in his voice.

  “You’ve been grass-tier Seidren for less than a whole week, and you’re frustrated you haven’t taken the next step? It took me around a year at each stage, although my teachers weren’t as good as yours.” Tirren flashed him a self-assertive smile to let the boy know he was joking in part.

  “Have you had any insight on which aspect you will choose?” Tirren and Severin talked little of their lives, and often of Seidren. It was an easier subject to navigate since Tirren had shared so few personal events with Severin.

  “No, not yet. I would love a forgotten or mystical aspect like the legends. I don’t want something common like fire, water, or force. There are loads of Seidren with those.”

  “They’re probably powerful though. When I get aspected, I’m going to choose the sunlight aspect!” Severin told Tirren. Tirren looked at Severin with an exasperated sigh.

  Jefromov had left them again, alone while he ran off on an “errand”. Tirren and Severin usually kept civility and cordiality between themselves, but it had been a long absence this time. Tirren was ready to be done talking and wanted to meditate.

  Before leaving, Jefremov had informed them that they had entered the country called Ice Spires, an ancient and beautiful mountain country. Despite only being in the country’s lowlands the air was colder, crisper. The elevation was higher than most places in Serventis. They were approaching civilization.

  Tirren set about masking his mana signature when a figure strolled into the small clearing. The figure did it so casually that Severin began smiling before he realized that the figure was not Jefremov. It was a lean figure with light skin that seemed almost blue, with thin hair that fell in every direction. He was wearing furs and leathers, clothing warmer than that which Tirren was wearing.

  “Children, come with me, the dragon is angry.”