The warmth coiling deep within William, that faint, almost sub-perceptual tingling, it wasn't just a sensation. It was a signal. A data point confirming a fundamental paradigm shift. His entire existence, meticulously charted within the quantifiable, logical framework of physics and code, had just encountered an irrefutable anomaly. Magic wasn't theoretical. He'd lost himself in fantasy novels, yes, explored worlds built on impossible rules, but always from the safe distance of the reader. His childhood daydreams of spells and superpowers, long filed away under 'statistically improbable childhood fantasies,' suddenly resonated with the force of revealed truth. He, William Shard, former analyst, current survivor, was now demonstrably connected to the fundamental operating system of this new reality. He might actually be able to use it.
The implication hit him with unexpected force. Tears, hot and sudden, pricked at the corners of his eyes, blurring the image of Julia's encouraging smile. It wasn't just awe, though the wonder was immense. It was relief, profound and dizzying, coupled with a surge of something he hadn't felt since he first saw his complex algorithms produce elegant results, a sense of potential, of purpose. He wasn't just a misplaced variable anymore, a burden dependent on others, running algorithms for a boss who despised him. He was… something else. Maybe there was a reason, a pattern, behind his chaotic arrival in Aver. Emotional state override: Cascading positive feedback loop detected. System stability temporarily compromised. He blinked rapidly, forcing the moisture back, a shaky, disbelieving grin spreading across his face. A laugh, half bewildered gasp, half pure, unadulterated joy, escaped his lips, loud in the quiet cave. It was, perhaps, the first truly unrestrained sound he'd made since reality fractured. For a moment, the constant threat assessment, the pain, the fear, receded, replaced by the staggering possibility ignited by that faint inner warmth.
Julia observed him, her own smile initially mirroring his success, then becoming more… measured. Controlled. Outwardly, she projected calm encouragement, but William, his senses perhaps sharpened by the adrenaline or the nascent mana connection, thought he detected a flicker, a momentary widening of her eyes, a slight, quickly suppressed stillness, before her serene mask settled firmly back into place. Anomaly in Subject Julia's response detected? Or user misinterpretation due to heightened emotional state?
Internally, Julia was reeling. While mana potential was universal, interwoven with life itself like breath, sensing it consciously was the first, often most difficult, step. It required focus, introspection, a turning inward that could take weeks, often months, of dedicated meditation under guidance. She herself, hailed as a prodigy within her family's magical tradition, trained by Aver's finest tutors from childhood, had spent two full, frustrating weeks in concentrated effort before she'd felt that first undeniable flicker. Two weeks. And she was considered exceptionally gifted.
William, an outsider, found half-dead, possessing zero apparent background or training, still recovering from severe injury, had achieved it on his first guided attempt, lasting perhaps five minutes. It wasn't just fast. It was practically unheard of. It defied established theory, hinted at an innate sensitivity, a raw potential far exceeding normal parameters. Such talent… it was startling. Exciting, yes, but also… potentially destabilizing. Uncontrolled power, could be dangerous. She knew she needed to continue to monitor but more importantly carefully guide him as necessary. This level of talent is frightening and could have serious repercussion if led astray. She took a deliberate, calming breath, forcing down the wave of astonishment. He needed measured guidance now, not overwhelming awe or premature speculation. His eagerness was a good sign. It needed to be channelled correctly.
"A very promising beginning, William," she said, her voice a carefully modulated tone of calm approval, betraying none of the calculations whirling within her. "That connection, that warmth, is the foundation. Now," she smoothly shifted the focus to practicalities, "we need to get a sense of your baseline capacity. The… volume of your internal reservoir, as we discussed."
She explained the standard method for gauging a novice's initial mana reserves: sustaining a simple, low-energy spell. The duration before the caster felt depletion would provide a rough metric of their pool size. A simple diagnostic test.
For this, she chose the most fundamental of all utility spells: the Light spell. It was the magical equivalent of striking flint and steel, conjuring a small, steady light source with minimal mana expenditure, perfect for assessing a beginner's stamina.
"The Light spell," Julia explained, adopting the precise cadence of an instructor, "is beautifully simple in its structure. It requires only two runes acting in conjunction. The foundational 'Mana Output' rune,", she sketched a simple circle with a line extending from it on the parchment, "which focuses the energy, and the 'Luminosity' rune,", she drew a stylized starburst within a circle, "which defines the effect as light." Internal William: Basic function call. Rune_Output + Rune_Luminosity = Spell_Light. Simple syntax.
She picked up a smooth, palm-sized river stone, grey and cool to the touch. "Observe." Closing her eyes briefly, she held the stone aloft. Her fingertip glowed faintly gold as she traced the two symbols onto its surface. To William's eye, the stone remained unchanged, but he sensed a subtle shift in the air around it, a fleeting imprint of energy. Then, focusing her intent, she murmured the incantation, her voice soft but resonant: "Light."
The stone in her hand responded instantly, blossoming with a soft, warm, unwavering light. It wasn't bright enough to illuminate the whole cave, but it pushed back the immediate shadows around them, casting their faces in a gentle, steady radiance. It felt… calm. Stable. Controlled. A tiny, contained sun held in her hand.
After a moment, Julia opened her eyes, the glow from the stone diminishing slightly as her active focus perhaps lessened, though the light itself held steady. "Your turn, William," she said, extending the stone towards him. It felt faintly warm to his touch, a residual echo of the energy flowing through it. "Hold the stone. Picture those two runes clearly in your mind, the Output, the Luminosity. Focus on that inner warmth you felt, your mana. Try to gently… push a tiny stream of it towards the stone, visualizing the light you want to create. Then, speak the word: Light."
Her voice was calm, encouraging, a steady anchor in the sea of impossibility he was navigating. William took the stone, its unexpected warmth grounding him. He stared at it, then closed his eyes, taking a slow, deliberate breath. Objective: Execute first spell protocol. Method: Replicate instructor actions (visualization, mana direction, vocal trigger). Metric: Duration of light effect to assess baseline mana capacity. Probability of success: Unknown. He focused inward, searching for that faint inner warmth…