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LLOTF - Chapter 22: A little bit of improvement
🕑 Added 2024-12-07 03:49:41 +0000 UTCFelicity stood up and looked Tristan up and down, letting out a whistle. “Impressive. On-demand illusion. That will make veiling your identity much easier.”
Tristan was buzzing with excitement and he ran back over to the desk, flipping the primer to the back. There has to be some type of artifice identification spell. Something that lets me determine what my weapon and armor can do.
Felicity walked up behind him and peered over his shoulder, “What are you up to?”
“Trying to figure out what my gear does,” he muttered. He was fully engrossed in skimming the pages until he found the section at the top indicating he had found what he was looking for.
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Spell Name (Order): Discern Artifice (First)
Required Components:
· An object with which to draw or write.
· Parchment or another surface appropriate to the drawing/writing object.
· The suspected item of artifice.
Spell Phrase: “Je cherche à savoir ce que fait cet objet. Remplissez mon esprit de compréhension et laissez l'effet se répandre en moi. Distiller la réponse à l'ustensile que je tiens dans ma main.” (I seek the knowledge of what this object does. Fill my mind with understanding, and let the effect flow through me. Distill the response to the utensil in my grip.)
Spell Gesture: Hold the writing object in your dominant hand (in the case of ambidexterity, either hand works). Place your non-dominant hand on the object, with your index and middle fingers touching one another, your thumb curled in towards your palm, tucking your ring finger under it to the center of the palm, and extend the pinky finger as far to the outside as possible.
Instructions: The item suspected of being subjected to artifice should be on a stable surface. Prepare the drawing/writing surface, and place it on a flat surface within arm’s reach. Place your drawing/writing object in your dominant hand, and let the object’s tip rest on the prepared surface. Your non-dominant hand is them placed on the item suspected of being subjected to artifice, with the appropriate spell gesture as listed above. Spin your mana core and pour your mana down your channels; a slight stream to your drawing/writing object, and as much mana as possible to the hand performing the spell gesture. Then, speak the spell phrase.
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Tristan looked at Felicity, who was still looking over his shoulder. “Are you reading this?”
She nodded, “After the armor, you should do that to these things!” She opened her extradimensional storage and began pulling out a bunch of jewelry, going over to the bed to lay the various pieces out.
“All that from the vault?” Tristan asked as he raised an eyebrow.
“Yeah! Lots of shiny stuff. The rest of my family is going to be jealous.” She started spreading the items out and placing her hands on each. “I’ll check if any of these can take mana so we can have you identify what they do.”
Tristan walked over behind her and pulled his armor and sword out of the storage space. Going back to the desk, he put the sword on the flat surface and re-read the instructions. Opening a drawer, he got out parchment, a sealed inkwell, and a quill pen. After setting those items up, he held the quill pen in his right hand and made the appropriate spell gesture with his left – placing it on the sword’s cross guard.
Okay…now spinning my core. I haven’t done this level of directed flow before. He closed his eyes and concentrated, focusing on visualizing the sphere in the center of his chest. The visual came into focus in his imagination; a silver sphere, streaked with icy-blue shimmers and lines. He started to try and pour a tiny sliver down his right arm and felt the cool, soothing mana rush down into the arm.
Crap. Okay, maybe if I tighten the muscle? He tried flexing his forearm; gripping the quill pen even tighter. The cool feeling receded, and very delicately he let his grip loosen until he only felt a small trickle. Alright. Now, get the rest going down my other arm. Visualizing the cool torrent in his torso, he envisioned the energy going down his left arm and into the hand with the spell gesture on the sword.
The mana responded to his will, and he felt very weird as he felt his weight pulled to the left. Lopsided energy distribution is really weird, he thought. Stopping the mana core spinning, he went to grab a chair, sat down, and tried again. Spin the core. Focus on exuding mana.
He flexed his right hand with the quill pen and felt the small trickle, and the larger torrent down his left arm. “Je cherche à savoir ce que fait cet objet. Remplissez mon esprit de compréhension et laissez l'effet se répandre en moi. Distiller la réponse à l'ustensile que je tiens dans ma main.”
Through his eyelids he could tell something bright shone, and felt small icy crystals form under his hand to crust the hilt of the weapon. Almost against his will, his right hand began moving – dipping into the inkwell as necessary. Tristan felt his mana core spinning faster and faster, trying to keep the rate of flow going – and that’s when he felt pain.
It was a stinging pain along the center of both of his arms, which then slowly spread through his whole body. He winced and felt the mana core starting to wobble in his chest; like it was off-center and about to spin off of its axis. I need to slow the rotation without losing mana, he thought as he felt his right hand still moving as it kept writing autonomously.
Taking deep, shaky breaths, he focused on slowing the spin. The mana flowing into his left arm began to recede. Crap! I need more in that arm than the right! No choice – spin harder and hope it doesn’t do something bad!
He spun the core faster and faster, feeling nausea build up and tasting bile in the back of his throat as his body reacted to the sudden, rapid movement of the ethereal object within his torso. Tristan felt his stomach beginning to rumble, swore he could feel his insides moving around inside his torso, and began to see blurs of crimson and gold sparks within the mana core he visualized.
But as he sped up the core and kept feeling the discomfort build – it stabilized and spun in place without wobbling. Faster than it had ever gone. He could feel an enormous surge of the soothing, cool energy through his body – and keeping his right arm tensed was taking most of his concentration.
Something shook him, and he lost focus. Opening his eyes, he saw the desk getting further away. “Wha?”
Felicity appeared in front of him, a worried look on her face. She slapped his face lightly, “Feel that?”
Tristan nodded and tried to reach up to feel his face – but his left arm didn’t respond. “What happened?” he asked groggily.
“Just look for yourself,” she said as she stepped aside.
Tristan saw his desk – completely covered in rime and ice. It was a few inches thick, and crystal-clear with tiny streaks of silver running through it; along with small sparkles of gold and crimson. His sword was not encased, and neither was the paper. Both were seemingly left untouched. “How did that happen?” he asked.
“You were venting mana,” Felicity replied as she reached a hand up to his head and began pulling chunks of ice out. “It happens when you spin your core too fast. The raw mana escapes your body as if you were sweating it out. In your case…well, the winter in Winterbloom seems to really like expressing itself.”
Tristan looked down at his left arm and tried to flex it – feeling nothing. “Why can’t I feel my arm?”
She looked down and lifted it. He could feel her warmth almost instantly and tried to flex his fingers. Thankfully, those responded, and she smiled. “Well, well, well. Looks like someone opened their mana channels more.”
“I felt a lancing, piercing pain along my arms. It then…pushed out in all directions. All through my body.”
Felicity nodded, “Yes. Your mana channels are larger. Which means you can push more mana through them without pain going forward. I don’t know if it’s enough for Second Order…how bad was the pain, on a scale of one to ten with one being nothing and ten being agony?”
Tristan pulled his left arm into his torso and began rubbing it with his right, “Two?”
“Tsk,” She went back to the bed and resumed what she had been doing – although now that Tristan was looking at it, he saw that she had a tiny pile of objects to one side, and the rest piled on the other. “I doubt you can do Second Order. What I’m guessing is your use of a new spell type has helped progress your advancement. Baby steps.”
Standing up, Tristan held onto the chair for support. “Is feeling like you’re going to vomi-”
“Yes, that’s normal. Remember, your core and channels are still a part of your body. Just…slightly phased out of existence.”
Moving around to the back of the chair, Tristan pushed it forward over the wood floor, using it to keep himself standing upright while he got feeling back in his legs. Going to the table, he reached into the still-solid ice, into the gap left for the paper, and lifted it up to read.
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Item Name: Tristan’s Sword
Spell Name (Order) [Spell Type]: Dragon’s Doom (First) [Dragonslayer]
Effect: The weapon becomes especially lethal to dragons. The blade is naturally drawn towards vital areas within the capabilities of the weapon’s reach, given the user’s skill.
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He walked over to Felicity and showed her, “This is what it does.”
“Oh…huh. Neat.” She gestured to the armor on the ground, “You going to do that next?”
Tristan looked back to the ice-covered desk, now starting to show moisture on the outside. “Umm…maybe first I should deal with that before someone asks questions.”
Felicity looked at it and winced, “Oooh. Yeah. That’s going to be tricky to explain away. On the plus side, you could make a killing selling iced drinks in the market.” She giggled a little and moved over to the ice, standing with her hands on her hips. “What to do…”
Tristan joined her and after looking at it for a few seconds, Felicity snapped her fingers, “Got it! Help me lift it up.” She went to one edge, Tristan went to the other, and they lifted. The ice let go of the desk and they placed it into the storage space. Clapping her hands, the space shut and she shut her eyes. “When I want to, I can change the environment inside the space.” Opening them, she smiled, but her eyelids fluttered slightly from tiredness. “It’s a lot warmer in there, now.”
Tristan smiled, “Thanks for the save.” He looked at the armor, still on the ground next to the desk. “I should check what that does.”
“And the pile of treasure on the left,” Felicity replied as she gestured. “I’ m going to take a nap. Changing temperatures in that space is draining.” She shrank and shifted form, once more returning to her fairy dragon shape. Flying to the bed, she curled up on the pillows and shut her eyes.
Tristan chuckled, shook his head, and went through the process of casting the Discern Artifice spell once more. This time, as he spun his mana core, he did not feel as much energy building up inside the sphere he visualized within his torso. It looked to be half full. I can only do two of these spells in a day, he thought.
Tensing his right arm once more, he did not feel the mana core go off kilter, nor the pain of his mana channels widening. It was once more the pleasant, soothing breeze through his body. And within a minute he was quite tired but held another sheet of paper with writing on it.
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Item Name: Tristan’s Armor
Spell Name (Order) [Spell Type]: Scales of Our Foe (First) [Dragonslayer]
Effect: The armor takes on the defensive qualities of a dragon. This increases the weight of the armor, while increasing the protection it offers.
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He felt quite winded and sank down in the chair. “That’s useful,” he muttered. Glancing over at the treasure pile, he sighed, slapped his thighs as he stood up, and went to his armoire. Opening it, he rifled through and grabbed two leather bags. He put the items that Felicity suspected were subjected to artifice – an ear cuff, a bangle, and a pair of gold-threaded socks – into one of the bags, and all of the treasure in the other.
I have no clue how many coins she stole, he thought. But there’s enough valuable non-artifice items in here that if I had to flee the capital, I could live well for a long time. He did not like the idea of having to flee the city that he knew – but he was always pragmatic and tried to prepare for the worst.
He heard the bell ring from the drawstring in the corner. Ah, dinner time. Going to his wardrobe once more, he pulled out a belt with a small belt-knife; a silver-handled blade that was meant for utility. Glancing back at the sleeping Felicity, he shrugged and headed downstairs.
Comments
Seras Streams
Good catch. Missed that in editing last night (I was bone tired)
sjturner79
“Trying to figure out what my ger does, Should be Gear ?
