Drip. Drip. Drip.

  After the chaotic situation in the slums and the tense aftermath at the Arcane Sanctum, I had been taken into custody for examination. Now, I sat here in a small, damp cell with four rough-looking criminals whispering secretly amongst themselves and a half-naked, passed-out drunk woman snoring loudly. The air stank of musty stone, old sweat, and cheap spirits.

  At a table just outside the bars, two armed City Watch guards were playing some kind of card game, loudly devouring a whole roasted chicken between them.

  Sighing, I shook my head. What kind of situation have I gotten myself into now? But really, I should have known that after I’d nearly destroyed the slums and almost killed innocent people, I wouldn’t just be allowed to walk away. I had a strong feeling that Lord Rockford had put in a good word for me; otherwise, this whole affair would certainly have turned out very differently.

  I had been told that at daybreak, the City Watch would go into the slums to take witness statements. They would assess the extent of the damage I had caused and determine if anyone wanted to press charges. Once everything was clarified, my sentence would be decided. Depending on the outcome, I would have to perform at least community service or pay a hefty fine; in the worst-case scenario, I would have to go to prison.

  But Lord Rockford had personally assured me that he would ensure Pip was safe in the meantime, no matter what happened. I was deeply in his debt, especially since he had even granted me the privilege of having the mana-blocking shackles removed. As the guards escorted me from the Arcane Sanctum, Lord Rockford had left me with a cryptic message: “There are surely better ways to use your time in a cell than staring at the ceiling.”

  Sighing again, I opened my eyes and played with a small, smooth stone I’d had in my pocket.

  I now stood before a difficult decision. I could try to learn Earth magic, but the fear of accidentally bringing the ceiling down held me back. I didn't even know if it was possible to manipulate existing matter. It hadn't worked with that wet piece of wood in the slums, but maybe I just wasn't good enough yet. My handling of Water, Fire, and Air magic was becoming decent, but my control over Gravity magic was practically non-existent.

  A power you couldn't control was more of a weapon than a tool.

  Ha. But is this really the right place to learn Gravity magic? I’m sitting here because I couldn't control myself, and now I'm supposed to bring this force of nature under control in here?

  Screw it. If something happens, I’ll just say it was a natural earthquake. The good thing about Gravity and Air magic was that you couldn't see them directly, unlike Fire and Water. You only saw their effects.

  Determined, I looked down at the stone and considered how to proceed. Gravity manifested in two forms: it made things heavier or lighter; it pulled things together or pushed them apart. Since the world generally pulled things towards the ground, maybe I should start by practicing reversing that pull so the stone would begin to float, or at least become lighter. If I tried to increase the stone’s gravity, it would simply fall faster, if I noticed a change at all.

  Spending hours just dropping and picking up a stone? Definitely not.

  Taking a deep breath, I tuned out the sounds around me—the snoring, the whispering, the guards' laughter. My attention was now solely on the stone resting in my palm. Mana flowed into my hand as I imagined the stone becoming lighter, the world’s attraction loosening its grip.

  But, surprise, surprise. Nothing happened.

  I tossed the stone lightly into the air, watching it intently. It rose, reached its peak, and fell back into my palm with the exact same weight and speed as any normal stone would. No floating, no slowing down. Just gravity doing its usual, boring job.

  Thoughtfully, I looked at the stone. Did I even use Gravity magic, or did I just pump raw mana into it? Did I not let enough mana flow into the stone? If I strengthened the gravity, the stone should fall faster, and if I maximized this effect, it should damage the floor or even shatter. Conversely, if I reduced the gravity, the stone should stay in the air longer before falling back down.

  It was worth a try. I stopped the mana flow to get a baseline for how long the stone was in the air. I tossed it about 20-30 cm high and then caught it in my palm.

  I closed my eyes and sighed in disappointment. Yeah… as expected, it took less than a second, just the blink of an eye. If my magic doesn't produce a noticeable difference right away, this is going to be a very long night…

  With that thought, I focused mana into the stone and threw it up. My gaze followed it as it flew about 20-30 cm high and then promptly fell back down.

  It hadn't worked, but something occurred to me: if my magic was working, the stone shouldn't just fall slower, it should also fly higher with the same force. That meant I had to concentrate on throwing the stone with the exact same amount of force each time, otherwise I wouldn't be able to tell the difference.

  I threw the stone up again and caught it. No difference. And again. No difference.

  After another twenty tries with absolutely no change, I decided to change my approach and channeled about three times the amount of mana into the stone. I threw it up again. I frowned and laughed internally. Shit… I think I’m imagining that the stone flew a little higher and fell a little slower. But was that because I had thrown it with a bit more force, or did the Gravity magic have a minimal effect? No idea.

  My lungs filled with the cold, musty air. This time, I channeled ten times the amount of mana with the clear intention that the stone be less bound to the earth's power, and threw it up again.

  The stone left my hand and flew about twice as high, falling back down noticeably slower. A warm, pleasant feeling spread through my chest, and I had to grin at the small success.

  After repeating the process several times until I was sure it was my magic, it was time for the next step: increasing gravity. But how to go about it? Increase the gravity and let the stone drop, only to have to bend down each time? Or reduce the stone’s gravity, throw it up, and then increase the gravity mid-flight so that it falls faster?

  The answer was obvious. My gaze wandered to the scoundrels sharing the cell; they all looked ill-tempered, and if I started dropping a stone on the floor dozens of times… they would probably string me up. So, I devoted myself to the more difficult but hopefully quieter option.

  If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

  I looked at the stone in my hand, concentrated the necessary mana into it, and threw it up. It flew slower and higher than on my first successful attempt, confirming that reducing gravity with my magic was working. Before the stone began to fall, I willed the same amount of mana as before back into it.

  Surprisingly, it fell faster… but somehow also not. The stone now fell just as fast as it did when I wasn't using any magic. So, I had… canceled out the effect?

  Hm. If my theory is correct, I first used three times the amount of mana to reduce gravity, which didn’t work. Then I used ten times the amount, which did work. Now I used ten times the amount again, and the effect was canceled… that means… I would need to use double that, twenty times the amount, to actually reverse the effect and increase its gravity. The only way to know was to put the theory into practice.

  Taking a deep breath, I reduced the stone’s gravity and threw it up. It flew about half a meter high before I summoned a considerable amount of mana and tried to double the stone’s gravity.

  The stone flew a little higher before it stopped at its apex and then raced down with increased speed. It landed with a loud, painful smack in my hand. Startled, I dropped the stone and waved my hand, wincing in pain. The four ruffians turned around at the sound and looked at me threateningly. I avoided their gaze, and luckily, they lost interest after a few seconds.

  Carefully, I picked up the stone, a small grin on my face. At least now I knew roughly how Gravity magic worked; I just had to refine my handling of it. A glance out the small, barred cell window told me that I still had the whole night to practice, because I certainly wasn't going to get any sleep in this cell. So, I focused mana into my hand and continued my training.

  After what felt like the hundredth time, I threw the stone up again.

  It ascended slowly, lazily defying the natural order. As it reached its apex, I shifted the flow of mana, increasing the gravity sharply. It shot back down like a bullet. But before it could slam into my palm, I switched again, reducing its gravity instantly. It decelerated just in time, landing gently in my palm as if it were a feather.

  I closed my fist tightly around the stone, celebrating my success. That wasn’t all. Two pieces of information appeared in my consciousness.

  < Skill improved: Mana Manipulation (Beginner) —> (Adept) >

  < Spell improved: Duality (Inferior) —> (Beginner) >

  Hahaha! Yes! A broad grin spread across my face. That was an immense help… but also an even greater danger, I realized with a jolt of fear. I didn't know exactly how strong my output was when I lost control, but if it was even stronger now, then I absolutely could not lose myself in that boundless, blind rage. I was deeply ashamed that I had hurt innocent people and deprived them of their homes… but when it came to Pip, I just couldn’t help it.

  The thought of losing her made me feel so helpless. I slapped both hands on my cheeks to clear my thoughts.

  Pip needs that root… she needs me. Because no one else would go to the trouble of finding something that might not even exist. And if it did, the cost would certainly be… overwhelming. So, for her sake, I have to become stronger, so that we can experience adventures together agai-

  “Hey, you pathetic weakling… I’m talking to you…” a gruff voice growled next to me, tearing me from my concentration.

  It was one of the four men with whom I shared the cell. Bald, with a short brown beard, his face was scarred, and his eyes were dark. He opened his mouth, revealing a handful of crooked and broken teeth.

  “Are you deaf, you little bastard? I said I’m talking to you,” he spat. He seemed to be the leader of the group, because the others just laughed scornfully but said nothing themselves.

  Sighing in annoyance, I answered as kindly as I could. “I can hear you very well, dear sir. But you must be mistaken; I am not a bastard. I would surely know if I had a brother like you.”

  Oh boy, did that hit the mark.

  “Ha! It’s about time someone shut your big mouth, you miserable gutter brat,” he barked, pissed off, and struggled to his feet.

  He didn’t make it a meter before a voice laughed, echoing through the vault.

  “You’d better stay seated, you idiot. The kid may not look like much, but he’s the one who tore up the slums yesterday. He’ll take you apart without breaking a sweat if you keep running your mouth. But please, don’t hold back on our account, we’d love to see it.”

  It was one of the guards. His feet were propped up on the table, and he watched the situation from his chair with amusement.

  When the bald ruffian heard that, he swallowed hard and sat back down next to his comrades with a lowered gaze. The guard, however, just sighed in disappointment and grumbled something about, “Nothing interesting ever happens here…”

  There are some seriously strange people in this world, I thought, shaking my head in disbelief. One minute he's ready to beat me to a pulp, the next he's cowering because of a rumor. I guess reputation really is everything in a place like this. I returned to my exercises, the rhythmic rise and fall of the stone a calming focus against the absurdity of my situation.

  The sun was just rising, but it would surely be many hours before anyone came to get me out of here. And so it was. As the sun was setting, the cell door opened, and one of the guards beckoned me over. “Boy, come with me.”

  Taking a deep breath, I stepped out of the cell, the stale air clinging to my clothes. The guard locked the heavy iron door with a resounding clank that echoed in the silence. Without a word, he turned and began to walk, his heavy boots thudding rhythmically on the stone floor. I trotted behind him, my smaller steps struggling to keep pace. The corridor stretched out before us, lit by flickering torches that cast long, dancing shadows on the damp walls. The silence was oppressive, broken only by our footsteps and the distant drip of water.

  Is my head going to roll now, too – like Lord Ainsworth’s? I tried to push the gruesome thought away as we walked deeper into the complex.

  The guard didn’t say a word, but soon he stopped in front of a sturdy wooden door, took out a thick ring of keys, and found the right one. The key slid silently into the lock, and the door opened with a loud “thunk.”

  The guard held the door open and pointed into the room. “In there. There’s a letter for you on the table. Hope you can read,” the man explained, bored, and yawned loudly.

  I approached the door, stopped a meter in front of the guard, and bowed slightly. “Thank you,” I said as politely as I could and entered the room. The guard seemed a little surprised by my gesture, because he just nodded at me with a furrowed brow and closed the door behind me.

  The room was made of solid stone, but it wasn't as musty and wet as the cell where I had spent the entire, miserable night. There was even a small window, though it was so small not even I could fit through it, and the door had no handle on the inside. It could only be opened from the outside, so the room seemed relatively escape-proof. But inside stood a bed, a table with a chair, a chamber pot, and even a small fireplace with a few logs in a basket. The room was sparsely furnished, but it lacked nothing.

  My gaze fell on the letter the guard had mentioned. I went over and took the envelope from the table.

  It was made of plain paper with no seal. Curious, I took out the letter and unfolded it.

  “For Grim,

  I am writing to update you on the investigation regarding the events in the slums.

  First, you should know that the residents are all safe. Thankfully, no one was seriously injured in the incident.

  Our investigation has also brought something important to light. Many people spoke up for you when they learned you are Pip's owner. They told us that in the past weeks, Pip healed many who were weak and sick. Because of her, they have grown into a strong community, and for that, they are deeply grateful.

  Because they understand your actions came from a place of great pain, and because of their gratitude for Pip, none of the residents wish to press any charges against you.

  However, we have laws in Astoria that everyone must follow. You will still have to answer for the homes that were destroyed. This means you will be responsible for the cost of rebuilding and for the deployment of the City Watch.

  It is important that you understand why you are being treated this way. We know you did not act out of hate, but out of love. That is why you are being kept in this room and treated with respect, not as a criminal.

  We are still calculating the final costs of the damage. For that reason, I must ask for your continued patience until the investigation is complete.

  Signed, Augustus Rockford.”