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The weeks following Chris's first use of magic were intense and exhausting.
The days followed a predictable rhythm: waking up early, eating whatever was available, dedicating himself to learning the new language, and when the house fell silent at night, practicing magic discreetly, avoiding drawing attention.
As the days passed, Chris began to understand his family's dynamics and the reality they lived in. Poverty was evident, food was scarce, and survival depended on a fragile balance.
His father, along with Caliste, his older brother, spent much of the day in the forest, hunting whatever they could to feed the family.
Lia, his mother, divided her time between taking care of the house, the children, and a small garden she maintained beside the house – one of the few sources of fresh vegetables for them.
The village they lived in was humble, consisting of a few wooden houses spaced apart, surrounded by a vast forest. It was an isolated place where nature dictated the rhythm of everything.
For Chris, that setting, so simple and distant from the modernity he knew back on Earth, seemed almost primitive, but it had its own charm that he was beginning to appreciate.
Chris's progress in magic was notable, though modest. He was already able to create a small whirlwind, a gentle movement of air that swirled around his hand. It wasn't anything grand, but it was progress that filled him with pride.
However, he soon noticed a limitation: he couldn't keep the whirlwind going for long. It only took a few seconds before the magic faded, leaving him with a deep sense of fatigue, as if something inside him was being drained.
This exhaustion made him reflect. Chris began to piece together what he knew so far: the peculiar sensation when casting magic, the energy that seemed to circulate in his body, and how it quickly depleted.
From this, he developed a theory: there must be some sort of core inside him, something that stored and regulated this magical energy, like a battery being drained during use.
To him, this hypothesis made sense. If the core existed, it was there that the magic would accumulate, be processed, and converted into usable power.
Understanding this was crucial if he wanted to continue progressing. Chris didn't know if his theory was entirely correct, but it was a starting point.
Then, in the middle of a silent midnight, Chris became lost in thought, staring at the darkness of the room.
The moon faintly illuminated the space, and the sound of the wind entering through the cracks in the house seemed to amplify the tranquility around him.
"Maybe there's a way to reduce mana usage while casting magic..." he pondered. "But how?"
The truth was that he was still far from understanding how magic truly worked. He only had fragments of knowledge – sensations, observations, and his own deductions. It was like putting together a puzzle without having all the pieces.
He decided to organize his thoughts. If magic drained something inside him, it was logical to think that this "something" was finite and needed to be used carefully. But what exactly was it? He came up with two hypotheses:
The first was that people were born with a natural aptitude for magic. In this case, the core would be an innate characteristic, developing over time and capable of being trained, like a muscle.
The second hypothesis was more intriguing. Maybe magic didn't only depend on the core. Perhaps there was a connection between the person and the energy of the world around them.
Something like an invisible current flowing between the individual and the environment, allowing them both to share power.
He didn't know which hypothesis was correct – or if both were true, in some way. But he was sure he would need to test these ideas.
So, Chris spent the following nights in a cycle of trial and error, alternating between practicing his wind magic and his theories on how it worked.
Each attempt brought a new discovery – sometimes frustrating, sometimes promising. He knew he needed to make progress, but he was stuck with the lack of concrete information.
Then, on a particularly silent night, an idea struck him like lightning: "What if the two hypotheses were connected somehow?"
He began exploring the idea that the core, instead of being just a reservoir of mana, could also function as a bridge between him and the energy of the world. If this was true, maybe he could learn to "recharge" his mana by connecting to the environment around him.
Chris focused deeply, sitting in his improvised cradle. He closed his eyes, controlling his breathing, and imagined his core as a pulsating sphere of energy inside his body.
He tried to visualize it as something malleable, capable of expanding and contracting, like a heart.
"If there's energy in the environment," he thought, "maybe it should be within my reach... I need to try to absorb it somehow."
He started breathing more slowly and controlled, trying to synchronize the rhythm of his breath with the flow of energy he imagined surrounding him.
With each inhale, he visualized the energy being drawn into his core, like an invisible thread connecting the world to him.
Nothing happened on the first attempts. Frustrated, he almost gave up, until something changed. A slight tingling ran across his skin, and he felt a faint warmth in the center of his chest. It wasn't much, but it was something. He opened his eyes, surprised, but the sensation disappeared.
"Shit, I feel like an Einstein of the world," he murmured, with a triumphant smile. "But it's still pretty inefficient. It's like trying to fill a bucket with a spoon. It's so slow."
So he spent the next nights refining the technique, which he decided to call:
"Flow Resonance."
Instead of just visualizing the core absorbing the energy, he began using small hand movements, as if guiding the energy inside. Over time, he began to notice that the process became more efficient.
During these experiments, he also confirmed that both hypotheses were correct – and wrong at the same time.
The core was indeed innate and determined someone's initial magical ability, but the surrounding environment also played a crucial role. Alone, it wasn't enough; the connection to the world amplified magical potential.
After days of adjusting and refining the Flow Resonance, he decided to test it again while casting air magic.
Lying in the improvised cradle, with his hands outstretched, Chris created a small whirlwind between his fingers.
This time, the difference was clear. He was able to keep the spell active for much longer, without that usual fatigue that used to accompany his efforts.
"Fuck! This is progress! Einstein better watch out, we've got a new genius in town!" he thought, smiling proudly at himself.
However, as he continued, something strange began to happen.
A slight itch appeared on the tip of his nose. At first, he tried to ignore it, focusing completely on the whirlwind, but the sensation only grew.
It was as if an allergy had suddenly appeared. He rubbed his nose with his little hands, trying to concentrate, but the discomfort wouldn't stop.
Before he could avoid it, a huge sneeze escaped, so strong that he almost fell out of the cradle. The whirlwind disappeared instantly, and Chris stood still, a stunned expression on his face.
"What the hell was that?" he thought, rubbing his eyes, trying to understand what had just happened.
Curiously, he tried again. The same thing happened. The itch on his nose returned, and within minutes, a thundering sneeze made him lose concentration, and the magic dissipated.
"Wonderful... a side effect... I really rushed into this, huh, Einstein," he grumbled, frustrated, but also laughing at the situation. It was unusual, to say the least.
Although the sneezing was inconvenient, he soon realized it was harmless, nothing more than a little surprise.
Still, he knew he needed to be more careful when practicing the technique. Imagining his mother waking up in the middle of the night with a baby sneezing whirlwinds all over the house didn't sound like much fun.
"Well, at least I don't have to worry about mana shortage..." he thought, laughing at himself.
The next day started busy. The smell of fresh coffee and the sound of hurried footsteps in the hallway indicated that everyone was getting ready for another hard day of work.
Lia was in the kitchen, organizing the few provisions, while Tomy and Caliste, already ready to go hunting, finished getting dressed.
"Honey, don't forget what Shelly said at the beginning of the month," Lia said, her voice tense, not stopping to stir the pot on the stove.
"That creature... might still be around. The forest has been strange lately, and the last thing we need now is another problem. Be careful, okay?" She shot a quick glance at Tomy, her expression carrying silent but firm concern.
Tomy, always trying to calm her, gave her a reassuring smile. "It's fine, honey. Everything will be alright, we'll be back soon with what we need." He stepped closer, gave her a quick kiss on the forehead, and headed for the door. Caliste was already there, impatient, waiting.
"Let's go, Dad. The longer we stay here, the less chance we have of finding something." Caliste seemed a bit irritated, as if Lia's conversation was an unnecessary distraction.
Lia watched him for a moment but said nothing more. She knew she couldn't stop them. "Be careful then," she simply repeated, watching them leave through the door. The sound of their boots hitting the ground and the creak of the door closing behind them marked their departure.
"Hmm... I hadn't thought about that," Chris thought to himself, his eyes drifting off as his mind wandered.
"But probably the animals here are very different from those on Earth." He tried to imagine what these creatures might be like – perhaps more aggressive, or maybe larger and stranger. Maybe even with magical abilities, something he still hadn't fully understood.
The thought of encountering something like that in the middle of the forest gave him a chill, but it also sparked a certain desire for knowledge.
Lia and Zai went to take care of the garden, while Lilly stayed in the supply shed.
Lia left Chris in the room, lying in his cradle. He took advantage of the time to try practicing other types of magic.
First, he thought of starting to train fire magic, but since his cradle and the bed were made of straw, he didn't want to have a tragic end and die from being burned.
So he moved on to water magic.
Chris closed his eyes, breathing deeply as he tried to focus on water magic.
With his hands extended, he imagined a sphere of water forming between them.
At first, just a small sensation of coolness, as if the water began to swirl gently, responding to his desire.
When he opened his eyes, a small water bubble floated before him, barely larger than an orange.
"Hmm, what do we have here..." he thought, with a slight smile.
He kept the ball stable, feeling the energy within it, trying to control it. But suddenly, the sphere began to distort. The water spread across his hands, wetting his face and making a small mess in the cradle.
"Shit, still unstable." He said as he tried to wipe his wet face.
He stayed there, with a frustrated expression, but couldn't help laughing a little. "Still need to improve my magic refinement."
However, he knew he was on the right track. It wasn't perfect, but for a start, it wasn't so bad. And, with time, he would learn to control magic with more precision.