Drake’s Blog

“Again.
Again.
Again.”

Ria’s hand glows with a growing light. Mana gathers towards her brighter and brighter palm. A subdued bang, like a pistol smothered by pillows, sounds from her hand as it jolts up from the recoil. The magic bolt whizzes through the trees of the woods, seeking out a target 100 yards away. A crash as it makes contact with a thick tree.

“Bridgette, how far off?” I whisper into my sleeve.
A buzz in my ear replies “About 20 feet.”
“20 feet, Ria. Improving, but that better not be your best. Again.”
“Again? Can’t I take a short break?”
“Not till you hit that target.”
“Impossible…”
“You are the only one who can’t do it at this distance. Do you really want to flunk out?”
“N-No….”
“Give me your hand. I’ll show you how it’s done.”

Ria holds her hand out and I grab it quickly. I can’t do this without her, actually, but this is the method to use regardless. With this contact, she should retain a hint of kinetic memory. She’ll know what to do instinctively next time, but not consciously. Which is why I try to avoid this method where possible. Instincts are great until they turn into bad habits. She needs to learn the skill properly one day. But this one… is kinda hopeless…

I begin channeling mana through Ria’s arm, forcing my will into the light at my palm. A roar close to that of a shotgun erupts from my hand and the magic bolt meanders between dozens of trees to the bullseye 100 yards away. Bridgette, who was watching the target, creeps away a safe distance before my shot hits its mark. The tree the target is nailed to tears right in half. It could’ve easily traveled the same distance my bolt did if it didn’t get caught on the other trees behind it.

“Did you feel that?”
“Y-Yes.”
“Good. Your turn. Bridgette, repair the target please.”

In almost an instant, the tree is back on its trunk. Ria is at the ready. She takes a long deep breath before firing again. The magic bolt snakes through trees and air and connects to… the wrong tree again.

“Bridgette, how far off?”
“I’d say about two feet.”
“It’s progress at least. Take a break, Ria.”
“Phew.”
“It’s time for a brief lecture.”
“Wha?! I thought you said break?”

—————

“So why do you think your aim improved a whole 18 feet? 5 yards, pretty significant.”
“Imprinting, sir. When us magicians join in on a group spell, it has been known to increase its power exponentially from the same input than everyone individually. But there is also a side effect — the imprint, a psychic impression of the instructions and/or incantations of that spell.”
“Good. Now why was my spell significantly stronger than yours?”
“The sword and the chalice, sir. While training can help close the gap, and in the case of us Sieges, surmount it entirely, there is a notable difference in the ability between the sexes. Males are quicker casters and have higher output while females have a better ability to draw and store mana, so they have more variety and stamina.”
“Very good. At least you know your theory. It’s the practical that’s your trouble. Marti. Lend me an arrow.”

Marti doesn’t even bother looking up from her card game with Lillian. She just reaches into her quiver and blindly tosses an arrow right at me. If she wasn’t already occupied, I wouldn’t be surprised if she had decided to fire it instead, and expect me to catch it.

“Now, I want you to hold this as if you had a real bow to fire. Channel your mana through that and then take the shot. Sometimes, you need the reassurance of a physical aid to better learn.”

Ria sits the arrow between the base of her left thumb and index finger, the best substitute for a bow she’s gonna get, and notches it back. Hands and arrow both glow with the faint iridescence of mana before she fires it. The arrow remains in hand, but that light, that mana, shoots straight from the arrowhead into the thick of the trees, careening with grace towards its specific prey. CRACK!

“Bullseye, Mr. Oliver.”
“Hear that, Ria?”
“Whoo hoo!”
“Now, again.”
“Wha?!?!”