Max rubbed his eyes, still foggy from the nap he'd taken after what felt like the hundredth lesson on mana control. Merlin was currently poking at the campfire with a stick.
"Rise and shine, lazybones," Merlin said without looking up. "You're not going to master magic by sleeping through it."
"Can't we just skip to the part where I blow stuff up?" Max groaned, stretching his arms and yawning so wide it felt like his jaw might pop off. "I mean, that's what mages do, right? KABOOM!"
Merlin sighed, looking at Max. "Magic isn't all about explosions, you know. Well… not just explosions. If you want to survive long enough to enjoy those explosions, you need to learn the basics."
"Ugh, fine. Basics," Max muttered, dragging himself over to the fire. "So, what's on today's magical menu, oh wise and ancient one?"
Merlin chuckled. "Today, we're going to start with Mana Threading."
"Mana what now?" Max blinked in confusion.
"Mana Threading," Merlin repeated. "It is the foundation of all spellcasting. Think of mana as a thread, and your mind as the needle. You have to learn how to thread your mana using your mind."
"You're making this up, aren't you?"
"Not at all. If I were making it up, it'd involve a lot more fire and possibly a dragon or two," Merlin said with a grin. "Now, close your eyes and focus."
Max closed his eyes, trying to ignore the itch on his nose that appeared out of nowhere as soon as he tried to concentrate.
"Feel the mana inside you," Merlin explained to Max, suddenly sitting much closer to Max. "It's like a warm current, flowing through your body. You need to gather it, and know how to direct it."
Max tried to focus, but it was difficult. Warm current? Was it like a hot tub? Man, he missed hot tubs. He tried to imagine the mana inside him as some sort of glowing noodle, which only made him hungry. Maybe he could eat the noodle? Would that give him more magic?
"Max," Merlin's voice cut him like a blade. "Focus. You're not serious enough. I saw your aim in the dungeon, it was terrible, we have to work on that as well."
"Right, right. Focusing," Max said, shaking off his weird noodle thoughts. This time, he tried to follow Merlin's instructions. To his surprise, he felt a faint warmth in his chest, like the glow of a small candle.
"Good, now draw it out slowly," Merlin kept giving him instructions. "You're doing it."
Max opened his one eye, peeking at Merlin. "Really? Because it feels like I'm just constipated."
Merlin let out a small laugh, shaking his head. "You'll get used to it. Just keep going. Now, picture your mana as a thread again, and try to direct it outside."
Max concentrated, imagining the thread extending from his hand. He could almost see it, a faint wisp of light trailing from his fingers. It felt weird, like stretching a muscle he didn't know he had.
"Well, that was… something," Max said, opening both eyes and looking at his hands.
"Not bad for a beginner," Merlin said, patting Max on the back. "It takes time. Think of it like learning to ride a bike."
"Except, you know, less falling," Max joked.
"There's plenty of falling too, believe me. Now, let's try it again. This time, I want you to imagine the thread connecting to something in the world around you."
Max closed his eyes again. He focused on the warmth in his chest, drawing it out into a thread and then visualizing it reaching toward the campfire in front of him. He imagined the thread wrapping around the flames, trying to tie it together like shoelaces.
Suddenly, the fire flared up, shooting sparks into the air. Max jumped, falling backward onto the grass.
"Whoa! Did I do that?" Max asked.
"You sure did. But you got a bit carried away. Remember, control is key. The thread is delicate; you don't want to yank on it like a toddler with a toy."
Max brushed the dirt off his clothes. "Okay, okay, I got it. Gentle, like petting a cat that might scratch your face off if you're too rough."
"Y-yeah," Merlin said. "And eventually, you'll be able to make your spells more powerful with that control."
"Fine, but if I don't get to blow something up by the end of this, I'm quitting."
Merlin chuckled again. "Patience, Max. The explosions will come. And when they do, you'll be ready to control them."
They spent the next few hours practicing. Max managed to extend the thread all the way to a nearby tree, but when he tried to retract it, he ended up pulling a branch down on his head.
"Ow! Stupid tree," Max said, rubbing his head.
"You'll get the hang of it. Just keep practicing. But, now bad for your first day of real training. You've got potential."
"Thanks," Max said, tired.
"Next, we rest. Tomorrow, we'll work on something a bit more advanced—mana shaping."
"And we can't do that at your house? We must be out in the wild?" Max complained.
"Yes, I don't want you to to destroy my home."
"Got it," Max said. "And that mana shaping? What's that?"
"You'll see. But for now, get some sleep. You'll need your energy."
Max nodded, rubbing the sore spot where the branch had smacked him.
"Sleep out here, he says," Max muttered to himself. "Who needs a comfy bed when you have rocks and twigs poking you in the back?"
He looked over at Merlin, who was busy with his bedroll. Despite the man's age, he moved fast. Max shook his head. It was weird thinking of him as Merlin, the legendary hero who just like him got summoned in this world. Here he was, sharing a campfire with the guy who was supposed to be his mentor, but also kind of an overprotective dad who wouldn't let him do anything fun.
Max lay back, trying to get comfortable on the uneven ground. How did he end up here? One moment, he was just an average sixteen-year-old, worrying about school and video games. The next, he was thrown into this world of magic and monsters, expected to replace Merlin.
"Yeah, no pressure or anything," Max complained.
"Max," Merlin's voice mixed with the crackling fire. "I know it's a lot to take in, but you're doing well. Better than I did when I first arrived."
Max turned his head, surprised. "You? The great Merlin? Struggled? I heard you were level 50 in the first week here."
Merlin laughed. "Oh, you wouldn't believe it. I made very few mistakes in the book. Nearly got myself killed more times than I can count. But that's how you learn. Mistakes aren't failures, they're lessons. The trick is to make sure you only make them once."
Max was quiet for a moment, thinking of the day he killed his classmates accidentally. Should he mention that to Merlin? No, not yet. "So… what's the biggest mistake you made?"
"Not trusting my instincts. I tried too hard to do things the way others told me, instead of listening to what I knew was right for me. It almost cost me everything."
That didn't sound like the fearless hero from the stories at all. But then again, the stories never really told you about the failures, did they? It was always about victories, the glory, the "happily ever afters."
Max turned onto his side. "And what about now? You trust your instincts?"
Merlin smiled. "I've learned to. And so will you. But for now, trust me when I say that rest is just as important as practice. We'll hit the ground running tomorrow."
"Literally, right? You're gonna make me run around in circles again, aren't you?"
"Only if you're lucky," Merlin replied.
Max finally settles into a comfortable position, his eyelids slowly closing.
"If I'm blowing something up tomorrow, it better be epic."
Merlin's laughter was the last thing he heard. "I'll make sure it is. I'll make sure it is."