My father joined in on the party just as it was coming to an end. Even a blind man could look at him and see the pain in his figure. The slouched shoulders, indifferent gaze, and monotonous mumbles were all things I've seen and experienced many times over.
What was worse, I somewhat sympathized with him.
"I'm sure you've been told," he calmly said to me. "We're to depart in the morning. Our grandfather should be here by then. When we arrive, we'll have court with the royal family. And make sure you take everything with you." He added with a pointed finger. "You won't be returning."
"Yes, Sir." I solemnly bowed. Then watched as he returned to his somber state of solitude without another word.
I waited a few moments before I corralled my vassals to lead them into the courtyard I used to frequent. With little words from my part, they arranged themselves in a semi-circle around me to either sit or stand idly atop the igneous platform while I prepared myself.
"Before we begin," I finally said. "I'd like to ask you all a question. Do you know the density and size of your mana wells?"
"They told us when we arrived at the Tower." Toril quickly nodded. "I have a twelfth grade Ice Well."
"Mine is twelfth grade too!" Letta beamed, then regressed in both posture and vocal intensity as she said. "But, it's a Slush Well."
"Slush. Eleventh grade." Jonet calmly stated just after.
Followed by Jaimess. "Seventh grade. Also Slush."
"Ninth grade." Giorno nonchalantly stated from the far end. "Slush."
"U- uh…" Came the last, neurotic voice. "I have a sixth-grade Slush Well."
"Very well." With a sigh, I squatted to dip my hand into the web of darkness between my feet. From it, I pulled the six wells I purchased from Manilia and divvied the cylindrical crystals into the four chosen ones according to their well sizes. An I-9 for Ed, Jaimess and Jonet. And an I-7 for Toril.
"Around five years ago." I began, pulling the handful of accompanying flasks from my Pocket. "I purchased these external wells, along with these potions. Despite that, I wasn't told how to use them. Until now.
"My mother has returned to Youtera." I declared. Then retrieved the vibrant crystal and bottle that she'd just given me. "Before she left, she gifted me with these and the knowledge of how to use them.
"Letta, Giorno." I turned to them. "I don't have wells to give either of you at this time. Nor will I be giving you any in the future. You both need to be capable of protecting yourselves, and you are, but you'll be in non-combative roles. You don't need to expand your wells. But if you want to, you'll either have to find or buy your own."
"Your word is law, My Lord." Giorno hastily, yet gracefully, bowed. "But." He then shot a curious gaze up at me. "What do you mean by… expand?"
"And how much are they?" Letta quickly added.
"They cost one hundred thousand gold coins apiece," I curtly said, causing Letta's eyes to comically bulge in horror before she quickly turned away.
"First." I held out two cups full of a dull, blue liquid. "Drink this."
In contrast to how quickly Letta took the brew from my hands, she took nearly a half minute to sniff and turn and study the cup in her hands before her head swiveled in my direction.
"It'll open up your mana pores," I explained before she could ask. Prompting her to quickly down the contents and hand the cup back to me long after Giorno had.
"That's the first step in forced expansion," I explained, looking to the rest of them. "As I said earlier, it's a method to expand the size and, or change the density of your mana wells. Forced, because once you drink this potion, your pores will be fully opened for a short period of time. Your mana will then flow into the external well, compacting the energy inside before your mana returns to you."
Following a soft gasp, Ed lifted the well up to eye level "So, it's like jamming a slush well and an ice well on top of each other." He then turned his wide eyes to me. "Does that mean we'll have diamond wells?"
"I'm unsure, but I doubt it." I shrugged out a snort, then nodded towards my knight. "Toril will probably have a diamond well. Seeing as he's already at the brink."
"In that case." Toril turned to me in kind. "What kind of well do you have? What will yours become?"
"As a half-elf, my well is able to grow larger than the rest of yours. Right now, I have a thirteenth grade Diamond Well." After this, I held out the cylinder before me. "My mana will be purified and concentrated into something called arcane energy."
"I've heard tales of elves being absurdly powerful," Giorno commented to himself as he tapped at his chin. "I wonder if that's the reason why. Arcane energy?"
"How powerful are they?" Letta leaned over to meet his gaze.
"As powerful as dragons and demons," Giorno said, slowly turning his eyes to me.
"The only way of knowing is to learn for ourselves." I sighed, rising to my feet.
As if on cue, Letta and Giorno went off to the sidelines to either excitedly or idly observe the long and awkward period of inactivity that ensued from afar.
Toril was the first to say what everyone seemed to be thinking. "So." He took a deep sigh and looked around. "Who wants to go first?"
'Lead by example, Amun.' I told myself after a few seconds. And with a deep breath, I pressed the bottle against my lips and upturned its contents.
According to my mother, only a single cup was the dosage needed to cue the effect for the process. In my lust and greed from power; or in my paranoia of misfortune, I downed the entire thing in the hopes that my pores would remain in their fully opened state indefinitely.
Like a frat boy chugging from a boot, I drank and drank and drank the potion until only a few syrupy remains were found dripping from the neck.
Going down, the fluid burned like ghost peppers ground into a liquid. My throat, esophagus, and stomach felt as if they'd been filled with lava. Radiating a blistering heat that rapidly spread to my skin and eventually forced its way out. Opening the gates from the inside, in a sense, allowing the ambient slush-like fluid to cascade towards me without relent.
Acknowledging my ignorance of any time constraints, I quickly palmed the well in both hands before focusing on the crystalline energy within me. I imagined a connection, a conduit, or a line that stretched from my well towards my palms; and with the slightest tug, the energy began breaking off from my well at an alarming rate.
Glacial chunks of the stuff tore away from my well like a satellite caught inside its parent body's Roche Limit. Within seconds, the entire thing was ripped apart from the core. Broken into a stream of subliming comets that fell up and out towards my shoulders. At which point they condescend and precipitated into a tidal wave of energy. A dense current mana of mana in solid, liquid, and gaseous phases gushed down my arms at a furious pace, only to slam to a turbulent halt against the dam at the edge of my palms. Sending an ear-piercing crack through the courtyard.
Like glass giving way under pressure; the sound spread and quickened in intensity as a gap was opened in the cylinder, draining the pool of mana gathered in my hands at a faster and faster rate until every drop had flowed to the other side.
And then, I wavered.
A wave of fatigue hit me like a phantom truck. Leaving me feeling like I just ran a dozen marathons in under a minute instead of killing me on the spot. Suddenly, my breath was raggedly hoarse and my muscles were cramping and knotting up tightly that it felt like my ligaments, tendons and very bones were splitting apart; all the while. my head throbbed with a searing migraine.
That feeling, mana exhaustion, was then compounded with the lingering effects of the potion. Invoking a moment of pain that seemed to drag on for hours until the ambient mana began surging around me. Swarming into me. Brushing away the sudden pain and exhaustion as it collapsed into my well at a furious pace.
With my well nearly recharged, I closely studied the container in my hands. Like my mothers well, only far smaller, and far fainter.
The energy inside was a dense soup of a blue-white type of plasma that violently churned inside the cracked, crystalline structure.
Then, it happened.
The cracking sound returned, breaking the cylinder into two pieces that fell apart from each other as my hands were forced to my sides.
In that moment, I felt as if my entire being had been crushed by a pair of ungodly hands, forcing me into a squat to remain standing against the force. Grunting in pain as the crackling energy forced its way into my body and compressed what was already there.
As the seconds passed, my own pained sounds and the worried noises of my vassals became more and more distant; yet, the feeling only intensified. It soon began to feel like every cell in my body, every fiber of every muscle, was overcharged with energy and on the brink of an explosion.
But I pressed on.
One of the many benefits of my extensive training with my grandfather was that I knew exactly where my limit was. I had an extremely accurate gauge of how long I could toe the line with death before falling over. So I continued. I endured long after the migraines returned. I persisted through the nosebleeds. I persevered until I coughed blood on the ground before me.
But it still wasn't enough.
A sliver of energy remained. The backwash in a bottle was unfinished. The tiny amount of liquid held back by the lip of the can remained when I found myself tipping over the line.
And so, I pictured the result of my intent and hurriedly sought to right the situation I ran myself into.