into a sphere, and launched it.
You only need the third rule.”
“The third rule
is willpower, right, Daylra?” Eric asked.
“Correct.” He
cocked his hand and punched, sending a ball of light soaring towards the target
and creating a similar-sized hole next to the first. “Now what was different
about those two?”
Eric looked over
the two techniques in his mind before answering. “The first is based on
willpower alone and the second one adds momentum.”
“Correct again,”
Basilard praised. “Martial Arts leads into Mercenary Magic. Learning how to
punch correctly leads to the first step in using mana bolts correctly: The
motion and willpower are the same. The only addition is mana. Now try it.”
Eric stepped up
to the plate. Once he felt ready, he cocked his hand, focused on moving mana to
it, and punched. A ball of light flew from his fist, but fizzled out before
reaching the target.
“Hmm,” Basilard
mused. “You have to maintain focus or the bolt will fall apart.” Eric nodded
and this time the bolt collided with the target and dissipated harmlessly. “Where
are you aiming?”
“At the target,
Daylra.”
“You won't hit
the target by aiming at the target,” Basilard said, “Aim at the space
behind it. Focus on that space and your force will flow there.” Eric tried a
third time and punctured the target. “Not bad. I want you to keep doing that
until noon.”
The next week was
nothing but mana bolts. Leaf buds grew and Basilard reminisced how his mentor
made him shoot the tiny leaves instead of the big archery targets. The final mana
bolt lesson would take place at an actual shooting range. If Eric had to
compare it to something, it would have been a bowling alley: a large building
composed of long lanes with targets at their ends and an attached snack bar and
video arcade.
“Why'd we come to
this one?” Eric asked.
“I have a craving
for nachos,” Basilard said, “If you can punch a hole I'll buy you something.”
Eric stared at
his target. He took a deep breath and cupped his hands. The mana flickered,
then grew to a steady size. It gave him confidence. He willed the ball forward,
but it didn't budge.
“Try yelling,”
Basilard recommended, now holding a basket of nachos.
Feeling silly,
Eric said, “Ahhh . . .”
“Oh come on,
apprentice! You have to mean it!” Basilard shouted, munching nachos. “If you're
embarrassed about screaming when it's only your Daylra, how are you going to
cut it in battle?”
Basilard's
encouragement attracted attention from other lanes and people walking by. It
made Eric self-conscious and his mana bolt faded as a result.
“Think about
something you would use this power for,” Basilard advised, softer.
Eric racked his
brains for something he could champion: World peace? No, that was too
far-fetched. He could never do that because greater people than he had failed.
Becoming an important member of the Guild? Even if he did learn this technique,
he would only be a novice. As his depressing thoughts continued, his mana bolt
grew fainter and fainter.
“Hey!” Eric
glanced over his shoulder to see Annala with a bow in her hands and a quiver
over her shoulder. “What a pleasant surprise.”
“Oh, hi, Annala.
What are you doing here?” The mana bolt faded entirely.
“Archery, of
course,” the elf said with a smile. It made him feel better despite his
troubles. “I come here every week to practice.” She drew and fired.
Annala . .
.Eric remembered how she had been hurt protecting him; Revas and Oito too. I
don't want anyone putting themselves in danger because of me. Eric squared
off against his own target and a mana bolt formed almost instantly. I want
this power to protect my friends!
“AHHHH!”
Like pulling a
trigger, the mana bolt shot from his hands and collided with the target. The
impact threw up dust and obstructed it. When it cleared, there was a hole.
“Yeah! That's how
you do it!” Basilard slapped Eric on the back.
You only need the third rule.”
“The third rule
is willpower, right, Daylra?” Eric asked.
“Correct.” He
cocked his hand and punched, sending a ball of light soaring towards the target
and creating a similar-sized hole next to the first. “Now what was different
about those two?”
Eric looked over
the two techniques in his mind before answering. “The first is based on
willpower alone and the second one adds momentum.”
“Correct again,”
Basilard praised. “Martial Arts leads into Mercenary Magic. Learning how to
punch correctly leads to the first step in using mana bolts correctly: The
motion and willpower are the same. The only addition is mana. Now try it.”
Eric stepped up
to the plate. Once he felt ready, he cocked his hand, focused on moving mana to
it, and punched. A ball of light flew from his fist, but fizzled out before
reaching the target.
“Hmm,” Basilard
mused. “You have to maintain focus or the bolt will fall apart.” Eric nodded
and this time the bolt collided with the target and dissipated harmlessly. “Where
are you aiming?”
“At the target,
Daylra.”
“You won't hit
the target by aiming at the target,” Basilard said, “Aim at the space
behind it. Focus on that space and your force will flow there.” Eric tried a
third time and punctured the target. “Not bad. I want you to keep doing that
until noon.”
The next week was
nothing but mana bolts. Leaf buds grew and Basilard reminisced how his mentor
made him shoot the tiny leaves instead of the big archery targets. The final mana
bolt lesson would take place at an actual shooting range. If Eric had to
compare it to something, it would have been a bowling alley: a large building
composed of long lanes with targets at their ends and an attached snack bar and
video arcade.
“Why'd we come to
this one?” Eric asked.
“I have a craving
for nachos,” Basilard said, “If you can punch a hole I'll buy you something.”
Eric stared at
his target. He took a deep breath and cupped his hands. The mana flickered,
then grew to a steady size. It gave him confidence. He willed the ball forward,
but it didn't budge.
“Try yelling,”
Basilard recommended, now holding a basket of nachos.
Feeling silly,
Eric said, “Ahhh . . .”
“Oh come on,
apprentice! You have to mean it!” Basilard shouted, munching nachos. “If you're
embarrassed about screaming when it's only your Daylra, how are you going to
cut it in battle?”
Basilard's
encouragement attracted attention from other lanes and people walking by. It
made Eric self-conscious and his mana bolt faded as a result.
“Think about
something you would use this power for,” Basilard advised, softer.
Eric racked his
brains for something he could champion: World peace? No, that was too
far-fetched. He could never do that because greater people than he had failed.
Becoming an important member of the Guild? Even if he did learn this technique,
he would only be a novice. As his depressing thoughts continued, his mana bolt
grew fainter and fainter.
“Hey!” Eric
glanced over his shoulder to see Annala with a bow in her hands and a quiver
over her shoulder. “What a pleasant surprise.”
“Oh, hi, Annala.
What are you doing here?” The mana bolt faded entirely.
“Archery, of
course,” the elf said with a smile. It made him feel better despite his
troubles. “I come here every week to practice.” She drew and fired.
Annala . .
.Eric remembered how she had been hurt protecting him; Revas and Oito too. I
don't want anyone putting themselves in danger because of me. Eric squared
off against his own target and a mana bolt formed almost instantly. I want
this power to protect my friends!
“AHHHH!”
Like pulling a
trigger, the mana bolt shot from his hands and collided with the target. The
impact threw up dust and obstructed it. When it cleared, there was a hole.
“Yeah! That's how
you do it!” Basilard slapped Eric on the back.
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