A mishmash whirl of thoughts prevented Torrin from getting a peaceful rest. As soon as sleep came, he was back in Perria's room...
A pitter-patter sound of faux rain echoed as blood dripped from the walls into the pool formed on the decadent wood flooring below. Drip. Drop. Drip. Drop. A sound warning of coming storms. The distinct refreshing scent of a Spring shower replaced with a cloying stench of iron. Of blood. The smell seemed to solidify in his mouth, clogging his throat with the overwhelming stench of death.
A slim leg wearing a beautiful crystalline slipper, a leg that should have lead to a beautiful girl's body, leading to nothing but a wretchedly torn thigh. Body parts strewn about like islands in the lake of blood... A horrified expression marring the Princess' beautiful face as her head sat detached on her vanity.
As he looked into those terrified eyes, he felt a clawing in his heart as it was ripped to shreds with grief. Turning his head to the corner of the room, his blood froze. No light from the candles reached this corner. There was only a shadow. The shadow.
Torrin shot up from the itchy pallet he lay on, throwing away his equally itchy blanket. He was soaked completely in cold sweat, along with his pallet and blanket, as if they'd all taken another dip in the river.
'Perria... I'm so sorry I couldn't protect you...' Torrin lamented his loss as he stifled a yell and tried getting his body back under control. He was shaking slightly from the vivid dream--the memory. Guilt and grief mixed into a potent emotional cocktail that made it impossible to think straight.
'Perria... If I had been stronger or faster... Maybe...' His feelings were a physical weight on his soul, pressing down as if it was trying to condense him into something new, trying to push out the impurities of his naivety--his weakness. He knew deep down that he hadn't caused her murder, nor could he have prevented it, but the twisting sense of grief, guilt, and depression shut out any reasoning he could put up.
Tears welled up in his eyes and poured freely down his face, adding to his already soaked clothing.
*Slap!*
A sound reverberated through the small room as Torrin smacked himself on his cheeks with both hands. As he shocked himself back into the present, the grief, the pain, the loss, seemed to slowly fade to the background for one small moment--in the background, but still there.
'Perria, I swear, if there is a way to return to our world, I'll make sure the one who did this is brought to justice. They'll die at my hands.' Torrin thought resolutely as his feelings of loss lessened slightly, the impurities pushed from his soul, what remained stronger than before.
It wasn't gone, but something else was pushing the feelings back--A small and cold thing--Pushing his feelings further and further down as it grew.
Rage. This is what was now growing inside him. It was not a burning, roaring fire, rather it was a cold and silent sensation. It did not demand immediate retribution, but would grow over time--a different kind of inert core-- deepening ever so slightly as time passed, preparing itself to be unleashed.
Torrin had no clue if returning to his world was possible, but before he had been reincarnated he'd also had no clue that finding yourself in another world was possible, either. His situation was so truly out of his scope of reasoning that he was having a hard time adjusting. Every one of his emotions seemed deep enough to drown him and he was desperately trying to grab onto anything to keep himself afloat.
'But-But maybe mana and magic are the key, maybe that is how my soul was drawn to this place. And maybe that is how I can return.' Torrin thought, the hope bubbling inside him.
In his old world, mana hadn't existed. At least he had never heard of it or seen it used, he'd never sensed it. The vital essence of the world--Chi--was what flowed through the air, and what people cultivated.
Chi had miraculous effects on the environment and the human body. Once it was absorbed, it could be condensed into a vessel similar to a mana core. People could suffuse their body with the energy, slowly becoming stronger physically than those who couldn't.
The energy allowed one to break through the shackles that bound mortals. It could remake the body, enhancing physical capabilities--enhancing the body itself. Organs, veins and arteries, bones, muscles, skin. All of these would be improved by Chi and as the strength of their vessel increased, it could be used to become faster, stronger, and have faster reaction speeds; at this point they could no longer be considered a simple mortal. Some people had even lived for a thousand years in his old world, sustaining their body with Chi alone, no longer needing sustenance from food or water.
Thinking this, he assumed Mana surely had similar effects, if not more mystical ones. When he had first sensed it in the forest looking for Chi, he felt the energy contained in mana was much denser. As these thoughts passed through his mind, Torrin returned to the present. He knew he couldn't do anything about his past life, at least not yet. He would try to focus on the road ahead, on getting stronger.
He remembered slapping himself loudly and held his breath, listening to the sounds of the orphanage to make sure he hadn't woken anyone up with his carelessness. The last thing he wanted now was trouble from Thalia losing sleep.
The only sounds to be heard were the slow heavy breathing and light snoring of the other residents, along with the light creaking of the old house in the wind. Not hearing any footsteps, he finally relaxed. Taking a deep breath, he sat in a cross-legged position on his damp pallet and his consciousness flowed into himself. It took much longer with the turbulent currents of his mind, but soon enough he was able to was away his troubled thoughts and focus on what he could control.
'Notice the mana flowing around you. Reach out and take it under your control. Absorb it, adding it to your stockpile around the core. Rinse and repeat.'
Time quickly passed and breakfast time came. The noise of the others getting up roused him from his meditation and he went to get cleaned up. Thalia's discerning gaze took in his disheveled state, her eyes holding an inevitable quality to them, as if they never missed anything.
Breakfast was a simple fare of glue-like porridge, an apple, and a glass of stale water. He choked it down quickly with the others.
Orders were given out by Thalia shortly after breakfast, "Alright everyone, we've got a few things that need to get done today. Martha, please retrieve a few buckets of water from the river and add them to the barrel for us," she said, pointing towards a barrel in the corner of the "kitchen" area opposite the cookfire that Torrin had failed to notice the day before.
"Boys, you'll need to go to the bakery today and see if there are any unwanted leftovers we might can take, and I'll give you a few coins just in case," Thalia continued, reaching towards the boys with a small pouch that clinked lightly from the few coins inside, pulling back slightly just before reaching them, "And only visit the bakery, am I understood?" she finished, wearing a stern expression.
The twins acquiesced with sheepish expressions and soon shot out the door. Martha glared at Torrin as she picked up the bucket and left as well. Torrin soon realized he wasn't part of the "boys" as Thalia turned to face him as he rose to join Tim and Tom. Her old face seemed to have aged significantly overnight, bags under her eyes telling the story of her lack of restful sleep.
"Torrin, for today you'll need to continue to rest. Your accident yesterday has obviously taken a toll on you so I'll go to the smithy myself to see if old Brandon has anything we could put to use around here." Torrin was surprised by the words.
He wasn't in the best condition given he'd drowned yesterday and had only gotten a meager amount of sleep, but he hadn't expected to be let off the hook so easily. He rambled through Little Lark's memories, trying to figure out how he should respond.
"B-But... Mother Thalia, I don't mind going over to see Mr. Brandon! He's always nice and I'd hate for you to have to trouble yourself!" The act was obviously subpar as Thalia raised a questioning eyebrow staring at him with a strange intensity.
'Ah, shit... I'm 16! A High Warrior of Darule! I don't know how to act like some simpering child!' Torrin sighed inwardly, trying not to let his annoyance break his innocent outward facade.
Though he had still been young at the time of his death, his experiences over 16 years were night and day compared to what Little Lark lived through. He'd had loving parents that were proud of his achievements, a little sister he doted on, a girl he loved... Money. Little Lark had just been some orphan in the backwater village of Velin.
'Well, I'm that orphan from Velin now, so I either need to get better at acting, or just give up and pretend that my experience drowning changed me or something, maybe it made me more mature than my age... Yeah, maybe that could work...' Torrin thought, trying to figure out his next step forward.
Lost in thought Torrin hadn't heard Thalia telling him to go rest. When he looked up from his reverie, she was already out the door. Torrin walked back to the storeroom and took up his blanket and pallet. Since they were still slightly wet, Torrin took them around back to a clothes line and hung them up to dry in the heat of the rising sun.
He found Little Lark's small stash of possessions back inside and found some fresh clothes, heading to the wash room to get ready for his day. Fighting through his myriad emotions, he fought to keep himself focused on something other than his insane experiences over the past day.
Torrin spent the day meditating, drawing in the precious resource that was Mana. The debris around his core now resembled a small, whirling tornado. The mana spun quickly, forming a sort of suction that pulled in the paltry amount of mana he was able to bring into his veins.
'This is much more efficient. Now I just need to get the mana into my veins and it immediately heads towards the core. Maybe this method is taught later in the book Thalia brought out yesterday.' Torrin wondered.
Torrin only stopped his meditation once during the entire day, to take care of his pesky bladder. After he'd returned to the store room, instead of going right back into meditation, he decided to do a few light exercises.
He knew his body was still too young for the vigorous training he'd undertaken as a Warrior, but he also knew that at his age it was important to stay active to improve his coordination and start laying the stones of his future foundation. He spent about half an hour doing light exercises; push-ups, sit-ups, and star jumps to name a few.
Having worked up a light sweat, he sat back down and continued his mana gathering. He wanted to form a core as soon as possible, as that'd be his first real step to becoming an all-powerful mage. Little Lark's memories contained some information he'd heard about mages and the information baffled Torrin.
Mages could also perform feats like Warriors from his old world, learning weapon arts was common for mages as mana was a limited resource that couldn't always be relied upon. But the spells these mages used were something only Immortals from his old world would be able to do.
Casting Fireballs, Snowstorms, and causing Earthquakes. Winds shot out so fast they cut like blades. As Torrin perused these memories he became excited.
'Magic seems to defy the laws of nature, bending them to the caster's will. That's the type of power I need if I'm going to return to my own world.' Torrin thought with a grin.
With each passing heartbeat and breath, mana slowly flowed into Torrin, adding to the growing vortex around his inert core. Time passed quickly in this meditative state and soon it was time for dinner once more, time for "leisure and lessons", as Thalia put it. As Torrin stood to join the others, he wondered if he was focused so much on training because he wanted to get stronger in order to get revenge, or if he just wanted to avoid his troubled emotions.
They slurped up another broth, this one actually included a few vegetable chunks in it with herbs added for flavor, and chomped down the hard bread and cheese bits. The lessons came quick and Torrin tried acting more like Little Lark would, asking stupid questions, but soon gave up his front and became quiet. Thalia had shot him a hard glare when he'd asked about the validity of the former rulers greatness, causing him to think that maybe staying quiet during the lessons was a better course of action.
'That Little Lark had been far too wound up, spouting non-sense all the time. I'm just going to stop this charade, it's too much...' Torrin sighed inwardly, the corner of his lips tugged down slightly.
They finished the History lesson, learning the names and strengths of the rulers since Herold. Through Little Lark's memories, Torrin realized that they went through this book about once a month.
'Brainwashing the youth about how wonderful their leaders are, eh? Not a bad tactic...' Torrin sighed inwardly. 'Damn, I really am sighing alot, even if it's only in my head, haha.'
Torrin held back a chuckle as Thalia continued on through Reading and Writing lessons. This did give some interest to Torrin as he hadn't inherited good writing skills from Little Lark's memories, the kid had been terrible at it. They practiced on black slate boards with stubs of chalk. As he practiced, it became trivial to write in the language of his new country.
Lessons on Mana soon followed, and Torrin was finally fully engaged. He sat forward slightly, eyes wide, looking like a hunting hound that finally caught the scent of his target. Thalia said the book was just for beginners, so only covered up until the Red Core phase, but this information was just what Torrin was looking for.
"After a Gray Core has been formed from the shell of the inert core and the mana gathered within it, a person could be considered a mage. The next step on the path of mastery, would be condensing the new core to further purify it. This is done by gathering as much mana as possible inside the core," Thalia looked around once more to assure everyone was paying attention, a smirk actually appearing when she saw the rapt gazes of all the children.
"Once the core has reached its full capacity, mana will need to be gathered further, surrounding the core entirely. It is recommended to gather as much mana as possible, to be sure to have enough to condense the Gray Core, as failing this step can have dire and permanent consequences.
"The mana is then pushed against the Gray Core as hard as possible, but one must ensure equal pressure across the entire vessel. The Gray Core will eventually give way, condensing tightly and expelling impurities that the core has gathered. This step of removing impurities in your core will upgrade the mana core into a Red Core."
Torrin didn't fully understand what exactly the difference was between a Gray Core and a Red Core, but he wanted one desperately. Setting all his time into meditation would at least allow him to distract himself from his worries. As Thalia finished the lesson and advised the children to attend to meditation, Torrin jumped directly into a cross-legged position and concentrated on his inert core.
The two hours passed quickly and Torrin's inert core could hardly be seen anymore under the storm of mana raging around it. Thalia hadn't mentioned the exact amount of mana needed to crack his inert core open like an egg, so Torrin soon began to worry himself about how to get that part done.
Torrin noticed the sullen looks of the other children and adopted one himself. The looks instantly disappeared as Thalia announced free time.
As the kids went to play--Martha directing a scowl at him--Torrin "rested" in the storeroom, continuing the studying of his inert core. It seemed like his core was slowly being eroded by the mana storm raging against it, so he decided it must be time to try to crack it.
Since he'd had so much extra time to gather mana, his estimate of a few days was blown away completely. He attempted to wrangle the mana directly, but it didn't seem to want to listen, so he tried grabbing a hold of it with an imagined hand, leading it how he wanted to.
Surprisingly, the visualization helped immensely. He was able to direct the storm a bit, so he tried gathering more and more of the circling mana, continuing it's orbit, but in a much more uniform manner. Once he was moving all of the mana available around the inert core, he slammed it into the core violently.
He gasped. He almost cried out from the immense pain that radiated from the vessel, almost losing all control over the mana he'd been moving--almost.
He grabbed up every last bit of mana once more, continuing the orbit, gaining even more speed. Once the mana was at maximum velocity once more, he slammed the leading end into the same spot.
*Crack*
A sharp cracking sound resounded within his body as a small piece chipped off the inert core. The piece was immediately engulfed by the mana, seeming to dissolve in it, becoming a part of the mana flow. The vessel drank in the mana greedily, every trace of it being sucked in like the maw of a hungry beast.
His body was shaking. The sharp pain was slowly mellowing into a dull throb, then finally even that feeling faded. What replaced it surprised Torrin. He felt warmth radiating from the mana within the core and wanted to investigate further, but a cloud of darkness was flowing over his mind.
The effort he'd needed to control the mana to that degree had used every bit of his strong will. His mind felt muddled, but at peace, as he lay on the pallet and disappeared into the darkness of sleep, finally unable to avoid his troubled memories any longer as he saw Perria's mangled body once more.