'Kravoss, you feathery genius,' Fate grinned. 'That's it!'
Kravoss didn't need an explanation, instantly understanding it through their bond. 'It could work,' he said. 'But don't expect it to succeed immediately. This is still a new idea to you, and adopting a new mindset such as that can be difficult for even the best of men.'
'It's better than the floundering in the dark I'm doing now,' Fate replied.
Like Spells, enchanting required out-of-the-box thinking the majority of the time, but unlike Spells, they needed both the enchanter to truly believe what they were creating and for their knowledge of their Facet to be deep enough to sustain it.
Fate was sure he had the second one down for this, but the first one had eluded him for a while now. But now, he had a new idea, one that just might work.
Before, he placed less emphasis on his ignorance of Metal and more on the 'containment' aspect, trying to feel out a way for the Imprint to try (and fail) to regulate a Will Stone. In doing so, he'd essentially make an Imprint declaring that Metal could not perform this task.
Now, he'd lean far more into his own lack of understanding of Metal, making it the dominant feeling behind the Imprint. It was a simple shift in priorities, but one he was certain would work.
He started enchanting again immediately, unwavering even after he experienced failure after failure. He only grew more determined, as every attempt brought him that much closer to completion.
Just as he broached the 47% mark, the Imprint failed. Old Man Travis walked over to find Fate slightly frustrated, not at his failure but at the fact his shift was over.
"You can always try again tomorrow," the silver-haired man said.
"I'm afraid I might lose this feeling by then," Fate replied.
"If you do, it wasn't a feeling that would've worked anyway," his master replied. "Now get, go home and get some sleep. You look exhausted."
Fate blinked dumbly. There was no mirror nearby, so he couldn't see the bags that had grown under his eyes. But as Travis pointed out his exhaustion, it slammed into Fate like a hammer.
He suddenly became very aware that he had almost no Mana left, having spent nearly all of it in his rabid frenzy to succeed. During his attempts, he had become much faster at creating Imprints, going through dozens of failures a minute.
That number dwindled the closer he got to completing the Imprint, but it still was about three or four half-completed Imprints every minute.
Fate's Mana pool was always on the average side, it was just that his Skill required such little amounts that he rarely thought about it.
Enchanting was always one of the more draining tasks a Mage could do due to the requirement of projecting Mana outside of one's body, and Fate had gotten to the point where was actually slowed down by having to wait to generate more Mana.
What he did was the equivalent of putting just enough gas in a car to run the engine for a few seconds, only to use it up with a press of the gas pedal and repeat the cycle over again. It was extremely unhealthy.
Because of his actions, Fate's limbs were now as heavy as steel and his mind was clouded and foggy. Only now did he realize just how slowly his words had been spoken before.
"I probably should get some sleep," he mumbled.
"Yes, you should," reprimanded Old Man Travis. "Kravoss, make sure he gets back to his dorm safely."
The Dracok dipped its head in a nod and sauntered forward, leading the way for Fate. 'Come on, idiot human. Why does every member of your species feel such a need to harm themselves?'
'Did you already forget… how we met?' Fate asked, pointing out the irony in the Dracok's words.
'I could still walk after that. You, meanwhile, look like a slight breeze will knock you to the ground.'
Fate staggered into the room and plopped down onto his bed, Kravoss hopping on the couch with a displeased look.
'You still forgot to get me a bed,' the Dracok chided.
'Remind me tomorrow before class,' Fate replied, already feeling better. The walk had given his Facet enough time to generate some more Mana, allowing his thoughts to flow faster and some strength to return to his limbs.
'Or you could give me the coin and I'll go get it myself.'
'You can't speak Ziob. How are they going to know what you want?'
'I can write. And humans are excellent at body language.'
'Okay, but if you do anything illegal, I'm not paying your fines.'
Fate got up and took a notebook out of his backpack, tearing a page off after scribbling down a note explaining that Kravoss was his Familiar, along with the dorm room he resided in and his crystal ball's serial number so they could call him.
He tied the note between the small pouch containing Kravoss' earnings at Old Man Travis' shop and the beast's leg. The pouch was small and had weak spatial properties, so it was a cheap and easy buy once the Dracok gained a source of income.
'Don't cause any trouble,' Fate warned. 'You know you can't lie to me, and you know all the laws I do.'
'Do you have so little faith in me?' Kravoss asked, feigning hurt.
'Don't play the victim. I see those mischievous thoughts in that head of yours. If you want food, you better pay for it.'
'You're no fun,' sulked the Dragon Chicken.
'Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to take a power nap.' Fate flopped onto his bed and promptly went to sleep, leaving the Dracok alone with his thoughts.
'First time in the human city by myself,' Kravoss thought. 'Might as well enjoy it.'
He strutted over to the door and looked up at the handle. He blinked once, twice, turning back to Fate.
'Uhhh, Fate?'
No response.
'Shit.'
His eyes swung back to the door handle above, narrowing as he contemplated how to overcome his first, and possibly hardest, obstacle.