Tom led Terem away from the crowd and out the back of the guild where a calm silence prevailed. Here, he took out a washbasin and conjured a wisp of water above his palm. The wisp shot a small stream of liquid into the basin, filling it to the brim with crystal clear water.
Terem could only imagine that the wisp of energy was taking a piss. He wasn't as intrigued as Tom might have expected though. After all, Terem's curiosity towards magic had been tainted by the conniving lich.
"So, you gonna tell me how it felt? Not one person so far has managed to stay conscious after my test, except for you, of course." Tom's eyes glittered with anticipation as Terem scrubbed his hair in the now filthy water.
"Well..." He didn't know where to start. "I don't really know to be honest, but it was terrifying. I thought you were holding me in the palm of your hand, controlling my every move... and laughing. I was too scared to move. Honestly, it kind of felt like my life was over, just like that."
Vigorously nodding his head, Tom appeared to be satisfied with the answer he had received.
"Anyways, how could you tell I was a white hair just from releasing your killing intent? And what is killing intent anyways?"
"That's pretty easy to answer, kid. People with white hair are naturally in tune with the elemental forces and can accurately sense the movement of mana. Normal people, like your friends back there, can only get a general grasp of the mana coming from a person's body. Let's see..." Tom paused to think. "It's similar to seeing how much water is flowing in a river versus guessing based on the sound the river's making."
After thinking about this, Terem believed that he generally understood the concept better than he did before.
While his mind wandered in the realm of magic, he remembered that he was unable to successfully cast or implement proper magic, only utilizing it as a healthier alternative to steroids. Much healthier, actually.
"Mr. Tom?"
"Just Tom's fine, kid."
"Tom, how come I can't realize magic yet?" Tom sat up with his eyebrows cocked up in confusion.
"Wait, you haven't used magic yet? How is that possible, I can clearly see your magic circuit moving properly. Does it have something to do with your mana core?" At this point, Tom was just talking to himself, but Terem was too confused to really understand any of the magical jargon other than the mana circuit.
Tom closed his eyes briefly, muttering a few words under his breath, before opening them again, clearly surprised about what he found.
"Kid, I don't know what circumstances or birth defects the gods dealt you, but you have a black core. Frankly, I don't know how you can cycle mana within your body, period. It's almost like you came back from the dead due to some magical supplement that provided you with enough mana for you to live off of until you grew up."
This new information shocked Terem. Although he didn't know what a mana core was, was he not supposed to be able to control mana at all?
"What... What do you mean, Tom?"
"I mean, your core is black. You shouldn't be able to store or produce mana within your body, much less cycle it. You have any clue why you can?"
Terem began to think. What could have possibly changed his body enough to allow mana to cycle throughout his system? He thought back to his oddities surrounding his birth and how he was raised, and then it struck him.
The liquid. It must have been the strange liquid within the capsule.
Thinking back, the liquid proved its abnormalities time and time again: it acted as a healing draught, it allowed for external respiration despite being a fluid, it was the primary suspect that kept Terem from dying of starvation and dehydration when he escaped. Now it was hindering his capabilities with magic? Or is it more correct to say that it saved him by providing his weak body with mana ever since birth?
'It's a wonder that Davarose survived as long as he did. Trying to transfer his consciousness into a magicless body. What an idiot.' Terem heaved a massive sigh while remembering the long-deceased archlich that ruled over his territory with an iron fist. It was honestly quite difficult to believe that King Berrister didn't kill him when he had the chance.
Terem opened his mouth while thinking such, but before he could bring up the mysterious liquid and his past, he began to have second thoughts.
'Wait a minute, what if I get experimented on for being the lich's test subject? What if they decide to kill me for being Davarose's child? Will I be interrogated and held against my will?' Scared to lose his freedom once again, Terem hesitated. Reluctance appeared within his expression, which Tom caught onto immediately.
Tom sighed and stood up. The boy would have to trust someone eventually, but if he didn't, then that was fine as well.
"If you don't wanna tell me anything, that's okay. But if you want someone to help you, all you need to do is find me. I'd be happy to assist, kid." Tom rifled through his grimy pockets, unfolding an assortment of dull coins from the depths of one.
"Take these."
Terem looked up, eyes shimmering with gratitude. Not only had someone finally understood his dire situation, but Tom had solved Terem's living crisis. Someone bothered to care for once, and he would not squander the blind trust Tom put in him.
It was almost enough to move Terem's steel heartstrings, but he only smiled and thanked Tom for his benevolence before following the pot-bellied oldtimer back inside the guildhall.
After thanking Ron and Lucy in turn, Terem left the building to find an inn: much to Vanessa's chagrin. She was left seething in anger from being ignored so naturally.
Terem wandered around the small lakeside town before finally deciding on an inn to settle in for the night: it was called the Drunken Boar Inn.
Entering, a cozy atmosphere greeted him, offering to relieve Terem from the burdens of travel. A few people lay scattered across the room: dining at tables, chatting, or simply listening to the soft melodic music that wafted from a corner of the room.
Terem felt right at home. The place was quiet.
Smiling, he wove his way over to a skinny young man who was leaning heavily against the bar, a wistful gaze staring into the air at dancing fairies. Of course, no one else could see these invisible creatures, but the innkeeper seemed to be enjoying the show.
"Could I have a room, please?"
The dreamy innkeeper jumped up, looking at the new arrival with flushed cheeks, quickly averting his gaze as soon as it met with Terem's.
"Uh... Sure, that will be 15 Meltos for the night. 20 to add on two meals a day. One is served through the morning and the other right as the sun sets."
At this point, Terem realized just how massive an oversight he had made; he didn't know what the currency in this territory was. The awkward situation had reversed.
Trepidly, Terem asked, "Um... Which coin is a Meltos?" He grinned, almost pitiably so.
"You don't know what a Meltos is?" The innkeeper was shocked out of his own embarrassment. "Then, do you know how much a Frase is worth? What about a Yuran? A Telum? Plaenum, Ruan?"
Terem shook his head at each one, becoming progressively more desperate and confused after each unknown chant. He also noticed that the lich's transfused knowledge wasn't all-powerful. It didn't translate magical jargon and it would not translate words that Terem didn't know in English. This included foreign currencies apparently, and probably unknown wildlife as well.
"You seriously don't know?"
Once again, Terem shook his head. But, to his credit, he never averted his eyes, not once. The innkeeper sighed, wondering just how the hell Terem was able to make it here without trouble and where he was born to be ignorant about the universal system of currency. It was going to be a long night for the innkeeper, but at least he now had something to do rather than dreamily wishing he had a girlfriend.