At the entrance to the Tower, Michael could closely see the glowing runes on the surface of the stone. The door opened just for Michael to see the floor covered in runes in a circle.

  “This is a short-range gate. It is connected to the main floors of the tower where the Kingdom’s finest mages research.” Walking up to the gate, Nelius acted as a guide for Michael, as Alana followed him. ”We are now going to a mana chamber, a room we enchanted with runes to keep mana from leaking out.”

  “Let us begin with your first question,” Nelius said as they walked. “Mana is… difficult to define. It is the raw power both mages and aura users draw from, though we mages use it outward rather than inward.”

  As they approached the Tower gate, passing mages stopped mid-stride. Whispers rippled through the group as they bowed to Nelius.

  “Who is that?”

  “I sense no mana from him.”

  “Is he the Arcanist we were warned about?”

  “Of course not. Who can be an Arcanist without being a mage?”

  Reaching the gate, Nelius pointed to the runes carved along the frame, trailing across the wall and climbing all the way to the ceiling.

  “This gate is linked to its destination through a precise rune network,” he explained. “It reduces the mana cost by several orders of magnitude compared to what you appear capable of doing at will.”

  As he spoke, the runes along the edges began to glow. Light spread inward, converging at the center before rippling outward into a room where all the walls were covered in blue runes that left no spot unlit.

  “Follow me,” he gestured as he walked through, and Michael did so afterwards.

  “As for its source,” Nelius continued, “no living creature is born with mana. We absorb it from the environment, and in time, the body compresses that gathered mana into a core. Why this happens, we do not know. Only that once a core forms, it begins to generate mana on its own, as long as the host lives.”

  He lifted his staff slightly, indicating the crystal embedded at its end.

  “When a core is removed, as with this one, it loses that generative property. It becomes only a reservoir capable of storing mana, never producing it again. Beasts follow the same rule.”

  He paused, glancing at the manicured gardens to their right.

  “Curiously, trees and plants are the exception. They generate mana without a core at all, save for rare anomalies we do not yet understand. But they also need to be exposed to mana for a while before they generate their own.”

  “So I just have to absorb mana, and the core will form on its own if I’m capable?” Michael asked, barely containing his excitement.

  Nelius gave a thoughtful nod. “In principle, yes. But most people require a master to guide the process, sharing their mana directly, or they must spend many moons in places with high amounts of ambient mana, like the Atheri forest or the Duraki forges.” He paused, studying Michael with growing fascination. “You are… unprecedented. Everyone else has been absorbing mana since birth. Their mana gathers really slowly to consolidate the core. Yet cores grow larger when mana is compressed rapidly and in great quantities, limited only by what the subject can withstand.”

  Michael’s eyes lit up as the realization hit him. “So, because I’ve lived with zero mana, my entire core can be formed through that rapid compression using your mana, not weak ambient trickles. And since I’m not an infant, my body can handle more abuse, right?”

  Nelius’s lips curled into the faintest smile, equal parts intrigue and caution. “A theory worth testing,” he said. “If you are even capable of absorbing and compressing mana in the first place.”

  “Why isn’t this done more often?” Michael asked, genuinely curious.

  “Because forming a crystal core demands an immense amount of mana,” Nelius replied. “Even the smallest cores require nearly a hundred times their final capacity just to begin shaping. Afterward, one may expand the core gradually through the use and regeneration of mana. But that first crystallization?” He tapped his staff lightly. “It is costly.”

  He gave Michael a pointed look.

  “With me here, you have nothing to fear. Yet ask yourself-how many apprentices could convince a high-tier mage to pour out their entire mana pool, leaving themselves drained and defenseless?”

  “Also, since this is my mage tower, I have access to the reservoir of mana of the tower itself, and I would not be defenseless.” After breathing in and out, he said, “Let’s get started. Remove your upper clothing and sit in a comfortable pose in the center of the room.”

  Obeying Michael ended up with his bare feet and dress pants.

  God, please let this work. Prayed Michael while Nelius placed his cold hands on his back with his staff across his criss-crossed legs. Alana was watching from further back as if guarding them.

  “Remember, as soon as you lose consciousness, your body will finish consolidating mana, however much you were able to bear. Ready?”

  “Yes,” said Michael

  Immediately, mana began to be injected into him through Nelius’s hands, which started to glow. Glowing brighter by the second, the man opened his eyes in disbelief. Michael was like a black hole.

  Is this mana? Michael thought as he felt his chest heat up.

  The Tower Master started to grin, showing his teeth, sweat dripping from his brow. He let go of one hand, grabbed his staff, and pointed it, touching Michael’s back with the crystal, as his other hand went to grab the staff. Mana left through the crystal and could be seen as a stream going from the crystal to Michael’s back.

  Michael’s breathing grew coarse as his chest continued to heat up.

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  Two minutes later, the tower master touched the staff to the floor. Some of the runes covering the walls, floor, and ceiling of the room began to brighten, forming a line that converged on the staff. The tower master’s face was dripping with sweat. Some citizens were startled as the dimly glowing tower started to flicker. Michael was barely conscious, his teeth gritting as he could scarcely inhale while feeling like he was on fire.

  Light-headed, he suddenly felt out of nowhere that he could breathe again as his consciousness left him. As soon as he fell to the side, the tower master stopped injecting mana, and the tower’s glow resumed its steady outward glow, yet slightly dimmer than before.

  The honored and mysterious tower master was barely keeping himself upright using the staff as support.

  Michael’s eyes snapped open to an unfamiliar ceiling. He bolted upright, chest heaving-only to see Tower Master Nelius sitting calmly in a wooden chair beside the bed.

  “Congratulations,” Nelius said, voice steady but tired. “Now you can wield mana.”

  Michael stared at him, then at his own chest. Nothing looked different… yet something inside him felt full, a quiet pressure, a presence he’d never known.

  “How long was I out?” he asked, still dazed.

  “Nearly an hour,” Nelius replied. “Long enough for us to bring you to your new estate. The king’s gift arrived sooner than expected.”

  Michael blinked, taking in the unfamiliar room with new awareness.

  Before he could speak, Nelius raised a cautioning hand.

  “Do not attempt to use that mana,” he warned. “Right now, you are a newborn holding one of those weapons you showed us, dangerous to yourself and everyone nearby if used without understanding.”

  Putting on his clothes, Michael remembered it was getting late and that he had an appointment with Elom. He hurriedly opened a portal and took his phone as he looked at the time.

  11:52 pm

  “Tower Master, remember the request of helping me bring something from my home world?”

  “I have already done quite a lot on my part of the deal. Believe it or not, you drained almost all my mana and over half of the tower’s reservoir.” Thinking for a few seconds, he continued, “Your starting core is the size of someone who has been a mage for at least 10 winters. This means your progress will be monstrous.”

  “But I guess helping carry something will not hurt. I have recovered that much mana at least.”

  Five minutes later, they stood together on the training grounds. Michael opened a golf-ball–sized portal, peering through to the remote site where Elom was instructed to deliver the printer and power unit.

  “They’re in place,” Michael said once he confirmed no threats-just Elom waiting at a cautious distance from the flat boulder holding the equipment. “Ready?”

  “Even though I cannot see through your portals,” Nelius replied, “your explanation was clear enough. I should be able to manage my part.” He had already performed a brief test earlier.

  When Michael’s phone struck midnight, he opened a full-sized portal directly above the rock-a two-meter circle of darkness. Blue, ethereal tendrils reached through, wrapped around the boulder and everything atop it, and pulled the whole platform through in seconds.

  The moment it vanished, two new portals, each about a meter wide, blinked into existence where the boulder had been, hovering six feet apart, one foot above the ground. The collection portal snapped shut immediately after the transfer was completed.

  Through the portal about the size of a gold ball, Michael saw the amazed Elom regain his senses and begin shouting at the people outside the giant tent to get to work.

  Okay, now to get to work. Michael closed the spy portal and turned his attention to the perplexed mage, looking at the printer and power supply on a big rock.

  “This is a printer. It uses really advanced and complicated mechanisms and systems to write and draw for you on paper, and even makes copies of existing papers,” he said, pulling out a flash drive through the convenient portals as he was used to by now, and plugged it into the printer. After a minute of navigating the screen controls, he printed a letter.

  “Something like that would take between tier 4 and 5 levels of complexity,” said the dignified mage at the letters on the paper

  “This artifact took hundreds of different iterations and previous artifacts to be made before this was possible,” said Michael as he put on gloves to handle the paper. Picking it up and dropping it into a portal that landed between the two, which he left Elom to study.

  Nelius rested both hands on the head of his staff, regarding Michael with a measuring look as he continued to teach him.

  “Before you attempt to use mana,” he said, “you must understand what magic truly is. Most apprentices think it is just ‘will made real.’ That is childish nonsense.”

  Michael smirked. “So what is it, then?”

  “Four pillars,” Nelius replied. “Mana. Intent. Control. And Knowledge.”

  He lifted one finger for each as he spoke.

  “Mana is the fuel. No fuel, no spell. Intent is what you wish to happen-a bolt of lightning, a shield, a gust of wind. Control is how precisely you shape and guide it along your intent. And knowledge…” he tapped his temple lightly, “…is how familiar you are with the phenomenon you attempt to mimic. The more you understand how something works, how it behaves, the easier it is to reproduce with mana.”

  “One of the easiest ways to practice is through intent speech, which is when you control mana to your words while trying to convey what you are thinking. Because who else knows more about your thoughts than yourself? With practice, this barely takes any mana, which is why mages end up doing it out of habit and convenience. Aura users still practice this, but most only use it when needed, as they focus more on the internal use of mana, which they call aura, probably just to be different, as it is basically just magic but used on yourself.”

  Michael tried to put it into practice, putting the translation crystal down for a minute and, while deeply thinking about the rock on the training ground, he wanted to convey it with as much focus as he could, thinking in English as well as in Common. He felt the fullness slightly lower as the mana moved to his throat as he said in English, “Rock.”

  Opening his eyes wide, the tower master said, “Wow, I did not expect you to get it on the first try, though I can feel you wasted a noticeable amount of mana on it. With practice, it should barely cost any mana at all.”

  “That gave me a headache, but it’s useful.”

  “You should focus solely on this for the first few days before I go on with the next steps. Now, my turn to learn something.”

  “Well, I assume your arcane field is lightning. Would you like to explain what you understand about it?”

  “Lightning…” he began, lowering his staff slightly as if handling something delicate. “Most mages see only what the senses reveal. A flash of light, a crack of thunder, and the destruction that follows. But that is surface-level.”

  He lifted his hand, letting faint blue sparks trail between his fingers.

  “To me, lightning is motion. Energy escaping its prison on the clouds. It is energy ripping a path through the air faster than anything. To where it wants to go.”

  His voice took on a subtle excitement, rare for the usually composed Tower Master.

  “When I cast a bolt, I am trying to build up pressure of energy and think of it wanting to be where I want the lightning to go, but it rarely obeys my desires, and it takes a great deal of mana to correct its path to the target.

  “That is actually sort of closer to the truth than I expected, though it can get really complex. But it seems you bridge the gap of knowledge to guide the lightning with raw mana, intent, and control.”

  “Precisely,” admitted the mage, swallowing his pride.

  Once he realized Nelius conceptually understood lightning but lacked the scientific framework, he pivoted straight into foundations-the kind of simple, brutal truths that governed everything in his world.

  At one point, while sketching crude diagrams in the dirt, Michael asked casually:

  “Do you find it easier to guide lightning toward armored knights than toward mages?”

  Nelius froze.

  His mind raced through decades of battle experience, tests, duels, and field engagements.

  Yes.

  Lightning always drifted toward knights even when he aimed elsewhere, even when he did not compensate with extra mana, even when the mage was closer.

  His eyes widened and then narrowed onto Michael.

  “…Why?” he demanded.