“I imagine that the hardest part, for you at least,” Elder Yamamoto said as we walked, “is that our inherent gifts aren’t like casting a spell. The mages always complained about how learning magic actively went against what they knew about abilities. This isn’t about gathering energy from reservoirs and working it to make an effect. The effect is like a held breath: already inside you, waiting to be let out.”
I blinked, setting aside the energy I had drawn together. It had come so naturally that I didn’t even realize what I was doing, a marked shift from just two days past. It was both startling how easily that came to me and frustrating that my new natural inclination was running counter to what I needed to do.
“Stop. Relax,” he calmly instructed, “And let it out.”
Breathing deeply, I paused to center myself and closed my eyes. It was difficult forcefully expelling the accumulated energy, going against the natural pattern. Drawing energy was a strain in of itself that we were taught only to accumulate when we intended to use it. My initial attempts to expel only resulted in the energy churning to a near boil as it couldn’t leave through the paths I drew it in through. It was only with gentle coaxing and direction that I was able to settle it down and let it out.
Only then, free of excess, could I follow the natural flow. It was a horribly disconcerting feeling energy flow within me, along but not within the channels. It didn’t make sense, and it wasn’t something I had ever felt before, but now it was clear as sunlight. There was a natural flow through my body and my channels were… extensions? Expansions? Attachments. Something akin to one of those.
“I think I feel,” I said, opening my eyes.
It was black. I blinked, in confusion, but as my night sight started to settle in it became very clear that Elder Yamamoto had abandoned me in the dark Wood.
“Elder Yamamoto?” I called out, struggling and failing to keep panic touching my voice. Silence was the only response.
Oh, insatiable hunger, what had I gotten myself into? No one went into the Wyrvwood alone. Especially at night and definitively not without light. Worse, the foxfire had been enough of a light that my night sight was only just settling in. Not that it would be truly helpful, given how little moon and starlight made it through the canopy, but it would at least be something.
I breathed in and out quickly and focused on what I could. My eyesight was inhibited, but that meant my other senses were sharper. Smells of Levelac told me that we weren’t too deep in the wood, but how far out we were I couldn’t tell. Touch and taste did nothing, but hearing told me there was life out there.
A faint rustle of leaves in the distance, the stirring of the trees in the wind. But no sounds of Elder Yamamoto or one of the many predators of the Wood. Alone in the Wood for the first time in my life was not how I thought this walk would go. “Okay,” I murmured to myself, “Think Kara. Jugei star is bright, which means it’s less than a bell until the sun is up, probably much less. Once it rises, I should be able to find my way back…”
Cracking branches cut that chain of thought right off and sent me frantically searching for what, if anything, in the Wood was stalking me. It might even be Elder Yamamoto, but I wasn’t about to risk calling out again. Waiting had become entirely unappealing, so I needed to figure out a way out of here.
Light, of course, was the answer. A torch was enough light to keep most of the creatures at bay, which is why we normally didn’t go into the Wood without several spares. And since I didn’t have a torch I’d have to conjure the light. I had heard of sink-or-swim mentoring, but this was my first real exposure to it. I’m sure there was some argument for it being more effective, but right now I just would’ve shoveled out the toilets for all of the Academy for a standard lecture instead of this. They had only been able to find part of the leg of the last person who was taken by the Wood….
Taking a breath to steady myself, I tried to remember what motions Elder Yamamoto had done, hoping they would spark a motion for me. Unfortunately, what I was instead focusing on was the odd rustle of the leaves and wondering if the errant twitches might be a predator in the Wood. It made remembering particular twitches that I had barely noticed hard to remember.
So, I pushed that aside. Elder Yamamoto might’ve intended for this to be a lesson about teaching me how to use inborn gifts, but adaptability was a valuable skill for any Mage. I didn’t know how to make foxfire, so instead I was going to learn about how to cast under stress. I’d spend time figuring out foxfire on the road, not trapped in the Wood before the pre-dawn glow had even started.
The spellform light wasn’t one I had used often, it was not in my area of focus, but it was still familiar to me. I had only made brief sparks before, but hopefully that would scale like the water had yesterday. I was halfway through the motions when a rustle of leaves alerted me to the movement behind me. I abandoned the complex motions and dove to the ground just in time for a black blur to streak overhead.
Merciless spiders, what now?
There wasn’t a sound of the creature hitting the ground, just a slight rustle of the leaves, though whether that was due to the wind or something else was uncertain. Carefully, I poked my head up, looking to where the creature went for some indication of what I was contending with but my eyes still hadn’t finished adjusting to the night. All I could see was underbrush and the vague outline of tree trunks.
I didn’t like my odds of dodging another attack, so the need for light became all the more pressing. Quickly moving through the necessary spellforms and chanting as fast as I could, a spell began to weave together. However, the energy I attempted to put into it was lost as the creature came barreling down the path at me, forcing me to roll out of the way and let the accumulated energy dissipate lest I suffer backlash.
Curse it, that was twice it had… Oh, no. It’s attacks had come at just the wrong time both times. Either it knew I was trying to cast spells or that I was distracted. Regardless, this creature was intelligent and the panicked fear compounded deeper. Death had really hurt the first time and I wasn’t sure if I’d get a third chance at life.
Okay, so spells were out. I needed to figure out a different way to either get light or at the very least survive until the sun came up. And since magic was out, I’d have to rely on my inborn talents. If Elder Yamamoto had organized this, it was brilliant. Infuriatingly brilliant. But that didn’t stop me from wanting to smother him in his sleep. The fact, a detached part of my brain noted, I didn’t even feel bad about the thought of smothering an old man said something about how worried and angry I was.
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Right, focus. Inborn effects. What had Elder Yamamoto said? It was about letting out what was already inside you? Besides the well of emotions, I didn’t have much inside me besides an empty stomach and doubt about my body and who I was. Good to know, but not exactly helpful in the situation I found myself in. A rustle was the only warning I got that my soul searching had distracted me to the point my unknown attacker had decided to attack again. This time something sharp, its claws presumably, nicked me, cutting a gash in my outer kimono but not penetrating to my arm.
“This is bird droppings,” I frustratedly whispered to myself, “I’m alone, in the dark, getting mauled by something. This would be so much easier. If. I. Could. Just. See.”
And like that, I could. I hadn’t even noticed the balls of light sliding out of me, but there were four distinct bobbing balls of light. And much like Elder Yamamoto had said, it was just like breathing out. I, forgetting my situation, literally jumped for joy.
“I DID IT!” I yelled.
The growl to my left quickly reminded me of my precarious situation. Stalking from the shadows there was a large feline, its shoulder easily reaching Kyomi’s head. Its fur was midnight black but when it purred, luminescent blue pulses rippled under the skin leaving black spots behind. “Jolt jaguar” The detached part of my brain provided, quoting Sage Vinollo’s lecture from years ago. “Ambush predator that is as intelligent as a person, which makes it highly lethal. If forced to fight, be wary of its lightning attacks and don’t try to use lightning against it.” I’m not sure how I was able to recall the exact words that had been used when I first started going into the Wood for supplies and someday I’d dissect that novelty.
Now? Now, I had to run.
Thankfully, the trail wasn’t too far away. A stumble, some pushed aside brush, and I was on the straightest and clearest path back to town, though we were well beyond what was typically considered the ‘safe’ part of the woods. And sure, that meant the jaguar would also have a straight path, but at least I wasn’t going to trip on undergrowth. There was a slight struggle transitioning to the beaten dirt, but once I was able to find traction, I was off. I didn’t even need to look behind me to know that the jaguar was following, its padding was much more notable as it ran along the trail.
It wasn’t until I had run for several heartbeats that I realized that, one, I was on the trail going deeper into the Wood and, two, I could still see. The first was frustrating but survivable. Under foxfire light I recognized this particular trail and I knew that it looped around; I’d just have to run for longer than expected. The second would’ve been fascinating at how I was maintaining the foxfire while under stress if it wasn’t for the given circumstances and for realization three, I could hear the crackle of a storm behind me and smell the burning air.
None of us had ever been good enough to throw lightning bolts, so dodging them hadn’t been part of the curriculum, but given how fast lightning blistered the sky I’d imagine most of the strategy involved not being in the line of fire in the first place.
It was only then that I noticed that the patter behind me had stopped. There wasn’t time to think, only to dodge as I threw myself sideways and then a painfully hot blue lightning bolt streaked through where I once was. Still, it had cut close enough to send a few minor jolts through me and cause some minor spasms.
I pulled myself up from the ground, arm struggling to stay straight beneath me. The jaguar, hair standing on edge and glow muted, was looking at me with open contempt some ten paces away. Apparently, higher intelligence also meant more expressive features, who knew? There was a moment of uncertainty as the last of its hair laid back down and a silent plea went out that that would be the end of this entire affair. Then it put one paw forward and I was turning to be up and running before the other even left the ground.
Okay, time to reevaluate. Based on what I remembered about this path, it would take me dozens of kedu, even at a full sprint, to reach the relative safety of the village. And while I had gotten lucky this time, I wasn’t so confident about the next lightning bolt or my ability to keep sprinting for the next couple of kedu. Running was only buying time.
So, it was time to think.
Changing my running pattern wouldn’t help. While the trail was longer, any turn meant that the jaguar could cut to the inside and intercept me. Not to mention the fact that the only way I was able to keep ahead of the jaguar was because I had the open path. The undergrowth would either slow me down or trip me, either would be inevitably fatal.
Magic was also out. Sure, standing my ground might give me enough time to get a spell off, but that was no guarantee and while I might not survive another bolt, I definitely wouldn’t survive the jaguar getting up close. Claws were vicious weapons and I was unarmed.
Which meant that I had to find another inborn talent. Something that was supposed to be natural that would give me a leg up. Okay, so what else could we do? Well, maybe I could use the foxfire as an attack. That would probably require me standing my ground and seemed like as much of a gamble as a spell. So, useful to investigate later, useless now. Shapeshifting? Well, it’s not like any of the People-like races I might shift into were immune to electricity or fangs, but a fox? Foxes were often faster than the People and were smaller, which meant I’d probably be harder to hit. I’d be dead if I got hit as a fox, but that wasn’t a significant change from my current chances, so it wasn’t any type of loss. And, in theory, this wouldn’t require me to stop running.
“Faster,” I said to myself, intentionally trying to mirror what had happened earlier, “I just need to go faster.
It didn’t seem to do much at first, but then I noticed that the patter did seem fainter. Not willing to stop and look, I kept talking to myself.
“Faster, I just need to go faster.”
My nose started to elongate, stretching forward and I began to smell things I hadn’t been able to smell before. The dew on the grass. The birds in the trees. I couldn’t smell the jaguar behind me, but that was probably because he was downwind.
“Yip!” I said, but what I thought was, “Faster”
I stumbled, but instead of falling, my hand and fingers shortened; my nails hardened and caught the ground and pushed me forward, making me run on all fours.
“Faster,” I mentally urged myself.
The transition from two legs to four was briefly distracting, but it didn’t last for long as intuition took over and I began to gain ground.
“Faster,” I thought one final time as my eyes dropped beneath the undergrowth. I was dimly aware that my foxfire was still following me, but that didn’t matter. All that mattered was the run. The sheer joy of the moment. I couldn’t hear the jolt jaguar behind me anymore, but I kept running.
I had survived death twice. Managed to both conjure foxfire and shapeshift. And, most importantly, I made it back to the village before the sun crested the canopy.
