The dim torchlight flickered against the stone walls of the cell, casting long, dancing shadows. Kael knelt in the corner, his breathing steady, his mind sharper than it had been since he arrived in this brutal underworld. His body ached from endless hours of training, his muscles sore, his bruises deep. Yet none of that mattered now.
Focus.
The cell was quieter than usual. Alera lay sprawled on the floor, her breathing deep and even as she slept. The other captives murmured in hushed tones or stared blankly at the walls, lost in their despair.
Kael closed his eyes and sank deeper into himself. His body settled into a cross-legged position, his hands resting loosely on his knees. His spine straightened instinctively as he let his thoughts ebb away like a receding tide.
His thoughts drifted back to his past life—fragmented memories that felt both distant and painfully vivid. Mana. The energy that had once flowed through him like a river, so familiar that he'd taken it for granted. He had wielded it, bent it to his will, yet now it felt as distant as the stars.
It wasn't the first time he'd tried to connect to mana since waking in this body, but every attempt had ended in frustration. This time, though, he was determined to approach it differently.
Mana isn't brute force. It's a flow, a rhythm. A pulse of life within and beyond.
He repeated the words silently, almost like a mantra. It was something he had learned long ago—whether in this life or the one before, he couldn't say for certain. Mana wasn't something you seized; it was something you aligned with.
Taking a slow, measured breath, Kael turned his attention inward.
The first step was Awareness.
Mana, in its purest form, was everywhere. It was in the air, the earth, the flickering flames of the torch, even the faint life force of the prisoners around him. But most importantly, it was within him—a spark buried deep, locked away behind the frailty of this borrowed body.
He imagined it as a faint ember smoldering in the pit of his chest, flickering weakly, desperate for air. He concentrated on that ember, willing it to grow brighter, hotter, until he could feel its warmth spreading through his limbs.
The second step was Stillness.
Kael knew that mana responded to intent, but intent required clarity. Any stray thought, any ripple of doubt, could scatter the energy like leaves in the wind.
He inhaled slowly, his mind sharpening. The noise of the cell faded into the background: the muttering captives, the faint drip of water from the ceiling, even the occasional murmured curse from Alera in her sleep.
The third step was Connection.
Kael extended his awareness outward, feeling for the mana around him. It was faint, almost imperceptible, like the hum of a distant tune. Yet as he reached for it, he realized something crucial: the mana in the air wasn't separate from the ember within him. They were part of the same current, flowing together in an endless loop.
He imagined the ember reaching out, its faint glow merging with the mana around it. Slowly, painstakingly, he tried to pull that energy inward, feeding it to the spark inside him.
At first, there was nothing. Then, a faint flicker.
A sudden jolt shot through Kael's body, and his eyes snapped open.
His chest heaved as if he'd been holding his breath for hours. He flexed his fingers, and for a brief moment, he thought he felt something—a faint warmth, a tingling in his fingertips—but it was gone as quickly as it came.
"Didn't take you for the meditating type."
Kael turned his head to find Alera watching him, her sharp green eyes glinting with amusement. She was sitting up now, her arms draped lazily over her knees.
"I'm trying to focus," he said, his voice steady but edged with annoyance.
Alera smirked. "Focus on what? Sitting really still?"
Kael ignored her and turned back toward the wall, closing his eyes again. He tried to recapture the faint sensation, the thread of connection he had felt moments before.
"What are you even doing?" Alera pressed, her tone more curious now than mocking.
Kael sighed, realizing she wasn't going to let it go. "If I told you, you wouldn't believe me."
"Try me."
He opened his eyes and looked at her. For a moment, he debated whether to answer. Then, with a shrug, he decided there was no harm in it.
"I'm trying to connect to mana," he said simply.
Alera blinked. Then she laughed, a short, bitter sound. "Mana? You mean that fairy-tale nonsense the arena announcers scream about?"
"It's not nonsense," Kael said, his tone firm. "It's real. I've felt it before. I just… don't know how to access it in this body yet."
Alera tilted her head, studying him like he'd just sprouted a second head. "You're serious, aren't you?"
"Completely."
She snorted, leaning back against the wall. "Well, good luck with that. Let me know when you start shooting fireballs or whatever."
Kael didn't rise to the bait. Instead, he closed his eyes again, shutting her out.
....
As time passed, Kael decided this time he'd approached the process with a sharper focus. He reminded himself of the steps: awareness, stillness, connection.
The ember within him felt dimmer now, like a candle on the verge of going out. But Kael refused to let it fade.
He drew in a deep breath, slower this time, letting his muscles relax completely. The tension, the fatigue, the frustration—he let it all melt away, clearing his mind until there was nothing but the faint flicker of the ember.
"Kael."
Alera's voice broke his concentration, and his eyes snapped open.
"What now?" he snapped, his tone sharper than he intended.
Alera shrugged. "I was going to say… if this 'mana' thing is real, how do you know it'll help? You can't exactly use magic to fight in the arena. They'd kill you the second you tried."
Kael paused, considering her words.
"It's not about using it," he said finally. "Not yet. It's about control. Discipline. If I can master mana—just a fraction of it—I'll be stronger. Faster. Smarter. Everything in the arena will be easier."
Alera raised an eyebrow. "Easier, huh? You make it sound simple."
"It's not," Kael admitted. "But it's worth the effort."
For once, Alera didn't have a snarky response. She simply watched him, her expression unreadable.
"Good luck, then," she said after a moment, her voice softer than before.
Kael nodded, turning back toward the wall. As he settled into his meditative position once more, he felt a flicker of something new—a faint sense of hope.
The ember within him wasn't just a symbol of mana. It was a symbol of who he was becoming.
Step by step, he thought. I'll make this body mine.