A warm and rich smell pierces my dreams, melting butter and the crisp sizzle of bacon. Something sweet drifts through the air like an invitation. The aroma wraps around me, coaxing me toward wakefulness, fishing me out of the depths of sleep. I stretch my arms over my head and groan, attempting to ignore the grasp of the warm sheets trying to pull me back into unconsciousness, but the smells reaching me are tempting, too. I sigh and sit up, taking in the warm sunrays filtering through the window. Mist drifts below us, hiding the bottom of the valley under a white blanket. Bae has let me sleep in. Strange.

  The world outside is quiet. The mist drowns out all the noise, but the house hums with movement, the clink of dishes, the soft scrape of a spatula against metal. My stomach tightens in anticipation.

  I push the blanket off, groggy, ignoring the weight of sleep tangling in my limbs, letting the promise of breakfast pull me into the day.

  My feet hit the floor. I sway as I stand, rubbing my face with one hand. The cool morning air creates goosebumps on my limbs.

  Barely awake, I shuffle toward the door, mind blank, except for the dull thought of something warm to wake me up.

  My foot impacts against something soft, meeting resistance. What is this? A stray piece of cloth? I feel it yield and give to the pressure of my step. My heel slips on something slick with a wet sound. I stumble back, my breath hitching. I have to grasp onto the doorframe to not lose my balance.

  I look down. There is a limp, small shape. Once white fur darkened with grime and something sticky. Eyes wide and glassy, paws curled inward.

  “Eek!” I squeak. My stomach twists. “Why is there a dead bunny at my doorstep?”

  The kitchen door creaks as Bae nudges it open to poke her head out. Steam escapes from a forgotten mug in her hand.

  “A bunny? How cute!” she exclaims. I glare at her. Trying to ignore her amused grin and twitching ears. “Kylo must like you if he brings you food.”

  Kylo? Did the cat do this? No, thank you.

  I pinch the delicate ears between my fingers, holding the small body at arm’s length, trying not to touch the damp parts covered in saliva and the blood of my unwanted present. “What should I do with this?” It feels as if it might suddenly twitch back to life. I blink. Why is it affecting me like that? It’s not the first dead animal I have seen. It must be the unexpectedness. I didn’t prepare myself mentally for it. That, or I am growing soft in this luxury.

  “Bring it over. If it’s still fresh, I’ll wash it and prepare it later for lunch.”

  I step into the kitchen, forcing myself to move and carry it to the sink. The leopard watches me from a corner as if expecting approval. I feel torn between glaring his way or thanking him. Unease still rolls in my gut.

  I sit at the table, ignoring the huffing cat, who seems offended at my lack of reaction. My gnawing stomach makes me forget my dilemma. I start tearing into the feast Bae prepared.

  “Where is Master Wen today?” I ask between bites. It’s the first morning he hasn’t accompanied us for breakfast this week.

  “He went down to Minas Kalin to speak with the emperor.” She makes an almost dismissive gesture with her hand. “Nothing important.”

  I gulp. Could it be related to that Turstan guy? I hope it has nothing to do with me. I shiver and try to drown out my distress in steaming flatbread covered in melting butter and honey until I calm down. “What are we doing today?”

  Bae claps her hands together. A beaming grin splits her face. “It’s time for your second alchemy pill!”

  My throat locks. Sudden, involuntary stillness overtakes me. Half-chewed food sits heavy on my tongue. I try to bite down and swallow through my hardship, trying not to spit the food back out. “The next pill?” A strange, cold weight settles on my chest as I remember the last one I took. It spreads out, tightening around my ribs. I can’t tell if I have stopped breathing or if it only feels that way. “Should I even be having breakfast?” My fingers curl around the edge of the table, knuckles stiff. The rest of the food, still stuck between my teeth, feels tasteless, like something foreign I’m not sure I can swallow.

  “Don’t worry, there is no problem with this one. It’s the most harmless one of the three.” Bae attempts to wave my anxiousness away, but I still look at her, wary. “The effect isn’t physical. You will take the Mana Crucible Pill today and the Mental one in a few days because that one can be a bit trickier.”

  “O… okay,” I stutter. I may not have consciously signed up for this, but I should see it through and reap all the benefits. “When do we start?”

  “After you finish breakfast.”

  I stand in the courtyard, three paces away from the waiting Bae. The pill feels heavy in my palm, smooth and slightly wet, similar to the Body Crucible one. This one is no larger than a chickpea, yet it seems to thrum with barely contained power. A faint, iridescent sheen dances across its surface, shifting between celestial blue and shimmering, metallic, silver hues as if it held a roiling ocean trapped within. The scent is sharp and intoxicating. It smells of fresh-cut grass and almost electrified ozone, like the air before a storm over a meadow. I turn it between my fingers. A delicate wisp of energy curls from it, zapping over my skin, sending a ripple of warmth through my veins, making my core stir. I gulp. Bae said I wouldn’t throw up. If I do, it’s her fault!

  I throw it inside my mouth and swallow before I can lose the last bits of my courage.

  It starts as a tremor, a faint, restless stirring in my core. Huh? Maybe it’s true that it isn’t that bad. I should be able to control this. I breathe through it, reining it in like I have done millions of times before while circulating. Yeah. It is easy. Why did they make so much fuzz about it?

  Then I feel it surge.

  A violent, writhing pulse of mana smashes through my grasp. A swarm, a tide of millions of small slick fish that fidget and slip through my fingers like they are not even there. They push against the edges of my being like a river straining a dam. My breath hitches. Wild and unstable energy twists inside me, curling through my veins in erratic, pulsing waves. My gathering vortex bucks and lashes as if it has its own will. I try to get a grip on it, to force the mana back into a semblance of order. But it is difficult, seemingly pointless, like trying to collect water with a sieve.

  Heat coils inside my chest, sharp and searing, radiating outward in waves. My fingers twitch, crackling with errant arcs of power. The world around me wavers, sharp edges distort. Bae’s shape blurs into a red blob. She says something, but her voice sounds like she is trying to speak to me while I’m underwater, and I can’t understand anything.

  The air is thick with the taste of raw magic. My heartbeat pounds in my ears like a crazed drummer. Too fast, too close, too loud. Can this be right? It feels wrong. The mana doesn’t only feel unstable. It is overflowing. It rises beyond my limits, spiraling recklessly, similar to what I felt during my last breakthrough but destructive.

  I stagger. A choked breath escapes my lips as a fresh pulse of energy tears through me. My vision flares white at the edges. I need to get control, or I will burn out. I’ll turn myself apart.

  Or not?

  The pressure on my core during my last breakthrough felt objectively way higher. It’s the lack of control that feels so disconcerting.

  This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.

  I take a deep breath, willing the panic to fade. Breathe. Let it fade. Slowly, it recedes.

  My control is still like a toddler trying to hold a spoon for the first time, but nothing hinders my focus anymore. I can do this even if I feel like a clumsy drunk trying to walk in a straight line. If it won’t stay still, you only can adapt and let the waves come to you.

  “Good!” praises Bae. I can understand her again! “You are getting the hang of it.” She steps a few paces back. “Now, I want you to freeform shape all the runes we have practiced these past weeks.”

  I blink. Did I hear that right? “What?” Is she crazy? I can barely control the bucks and jerks of my internal flow.

  “As I said. Hurry! Harness all the benefits you can before the pill’s effects run out!”

  Merciless foxkin!

  The magic keeps slipping. Every time I try to draw a line, it twists through my fingers like smoke, dissolving before I can shape a single component of the first rune I try. My hands tremble, sluggish and unsteady. Raw mana flicks between my fingertips.

  I frown in concentration. Even the simplest runes come out too smudged and deformed to activate. I can’t hold their shape long enough to finish them before they dissolve into the ambient mana.

  Why is it like this, though? If I understand the pill’s effect right, apart from stirring my mana, it seems to muddle my connection with it. The lack of connection between thought and action makes it feel clumsy and foreign, undistinguishable from the ambient mana.

  It is my mana, though! I can feel it. The connection is still there, even if it feels blurred and fragile.

  I grit my teeth and try again, dragging my focus through the thick haze pressing against my skull. This rune should be simple. It’s the most basic condense-moisture rune I have shaped hundreds of times during my training with Bae until I could do it without a thought.

  Now, I feel like I am back to the start, to my first try of free shaping a rune weeks ago. Even worse, my control is even more wobbly.

  Again!

  I draw the first line almost straight this time. I pull at the threads weaving through the air around me to adjust while holding it steady with an effort of will. One of the few benefits of free-shaping runes is that you can make adjustments if you mess up, as long as your willpower is high enough to hold them together and not let them disperse mid-cast.

  I’m almost there. One more stroke before I can let it activate.

  My mana surges again in a wild, uncoordinated burst that sends sparks crackling up my arms. I gasp and clench my fist in an attempt to contain it. To hold the rune together. Another violent pulse makes it twist the wrong way. It collapses into fizzling motes that slowly drift away.

  Again!

  It seems to be a bit easier this time. Maybe my control is increasing. I form the rune again in a quarter of the time. I’ll be able to finish it this time. I can feel it. I bite the tip of my tongue in anticipation. A pulse of mana dispels my effort.

  Wait! That wasn’t my mana! A laugh echoes from somewhere nearby. Not mine. Bae! “Did you need to do that?” I complain, glaring at her. “I would have gotten there this time.”

  “You need to increase your mana resistance, too. I’m just helping you.” She answers with a wicked grin.

  I snort, still glaring at her. “I knew it couldn’t have been that easy.”

  “Only the best for you, sweety!”

  Again. If I get fast enough, I may be able to outpace the disruptions she throws at me. I need to improve my speed even more.

  We enter a game, almost like a tug of war between my mana, my control over my mana, and her mana. I can feel the pressure behind my eyes pulsing in time with my heartbeat. My magic spirals out of control whenever I lose the slightest bit of focus. I need to make this work.

  We continue like this for what feels like an eternity until the last effects of the pill sputter out, and my core calms down. I managed to activate a total of two runes before Bae disrupted them. Nearly at the end, when my control started to feel like normal. Although I can’t shake the feeling that she let me win both times out of pity.

  “Great!” exclaims Bae. “That went even better than expected.”

  I look around. The falling sun closes in on the horizon. Kylo is nowhere to be seen anymore. He must have disappeared at some point during the day without me realizing it, probably bored out of his mind. My stomach growls. “Huh?”

  Bae hides her giggles with a hand. “Hungry again? Come. Let’s check your gains first, and then we can see if that bunny Kylo brought you tastes as good as it looks.”

  “Okay,” I mumble, not very convinced.

  “Good, good,” mumbles Bae. “Very good. You are almost ready to advance!”

  “Why did my shaping increase way more than my other attributes?”

  “Hmm?” She turns toward me, seeming lost in thought. “Oh, that is because the lower an attribute is and the more possible potential you lost during your last advancement, the more effective alchemy is.” She fixes her gaze at me. “Shaping was probably the only attribute you didn’t get close to your potential before you advanced last time. But that is normal. Information about the few exercises a tin-ranked mage can practice to improve shaping tends to be guarded more jealously than mithril.”

  “Oh,” I mutter. Another way nobles suppress the wider populace then. “Is that why my shaping is still my lowest attribute.” I can feel low-simmering rage bubbling inside me. Could it be that not having been raised in a noble family is what will close all those mage and mage-related paths to me? I can sympathize with those rebels trying to overthrow them. But who can guarantee they will not end up the same if they manage to grasp power? Power corrupts, those at the bottom get always fucked.

  “What? No.” Bae interrupts my spiraling thoughts. “The alchemy should have solved most of that. “It definitively was your only attribute below average at birth. But don’t fret. The rest of your attributes are amazing!”

  “Oh.” It still feels like I have bitten into a lemon. It’s pure bad luck, then. Why am I disappointed? It’s not like I can change what I was born with, only make the most of it. Being a mage raining down the elements on my foes would have been amazing.

  “Let’s prepare dinner, I’m hungry.”

  Master Wen awaits us in the kitchen, humming to himself. How did he get back without us realizing?

  Well, he can teleport, there is that.

  “How went your reunion with the boy?” asks Bae. Her careful hands work sprigs of herbs and garlic into the tender flesh of the bunny Kylo left us this morning. When did she have time to dress and store it?

  Master Wen sighs. “You know how it goes. Lots of sycophants squirming around him like the worms they are.” He approaches the heart and lights a flame with a snap of his fingers that eagerly starts devouring the dry wood. “I managed to negotiate a date to present Minae into high society without too much fuss.” He did what. “It’s two weeks from now. That should give us enough time for her to advance to the meridian-carving stage.”

  Shit! I feel like a gaping hole is opening under my feet. Why would I want to do that? I watch, absentminded, how Bae spits the bunny and starts turning it over the crackling flames. Fat drops down and sizzles between the embers.

  Breathe. It’s not a problem right now. Let’s hope I can change their mind.

  That said, I’m starting to feel a bit burned out between this intense writing session and my part-time job, which I still depend on to pay my bills.

  That’s why I want to switch things up and write something different for a while. I’ve been preparing a new story that I’ll probably start writing and publishing in April to participate in the Writathon event. You are all welcome to give it a try once I do.

  That doesn’t mean this story will go on Hiatus. I already have two more arcs planned. I only need to find the time and energy to write them.

  That said, once we start the second arc of this novel, I’ll probably slow down the publishing rate to once a week plus Bonus chapters whenever we meet the respective milestones until Writathon is over. After that, I’ll reschedule again and split my available time between both stories.

  From my previous experience, I find it easier to manage burnout if I have different stories to work on depending on my mood that day.