I woke up with a start, heart pounding in my chest like a sledgehammer. I was covered in sweat. Making my way out to the back porch, I found the pump, filled a bucket, and doused myself with cold water.
It had been the first nightmare I'd had in years. Not that I could compare any of my previous nightmares to this one. I kept dreaming of fat, ugly goblins stabbing me in the back whenever I wasn’t looking.
It was still early—just before dawn—and though the sun hadn’t peeked over the horizon, its light was already beginning to stretch across the sky.
Back in the bedroom, I checked the dresser and found a pair of dark, heavy linen pants and a red tunic-style shirt. They were surprisingly comfortable—better than anything I’d ever worn, even back on Earth. First thing I did was head to the pantry to check for eggs, and sure enough, there was a sizeable basket full of them.
This time, when I opened the pantry door, I noticed the runes inlaid on the inside, along with a metal strip embedded around the room’s perimeter. A few other runes were strategically placed above it, all connected to the metal inlay—like wooden molding, but set into the silvery walls. I made a mental note to figure out what it all did while reading and studying later in the day.
Finding some pork belly for bacon and the local equivalent of salt, pepper, and cayenne, I got to work on breakfast. Not wanting just plain eggs, I grabbed a variety of veggies from the pantry and went full omelette mode. I don’t know what came over me, but I ate a massive amount of food—more than I’d ever eaten in one sitting before.
After cleaning up, I took care of necessities in a bathroom that—praise be—had indoor plumbing. If ever there was something to pray and give thanks for, that made the list.
Returning to the study, I resumed reading book after book and was surprised to find I retained most of what I’d read the night before. I knew this because there was no way I should’ve been able to comprehend a lot of the material without remembering key concepts. One of the first topics introduced was the theory of multiple styles of magic, typically relying on either mana—or, depending on who you asked, qi.
One of the core differences between the two seemed to be how they approached compression and purification. Mana practitioners focused more on regeneration and absorption rates, while qi users were more about refinement.
I was starting to get overwhelmed when I found a scribbled note from Javier in one of the margins. It simply said: “Screw this… Just do both.” That solved that dilemma pretty quickly.
The next couple of books explained how to begin gaining control over mana and qi using different techniques. I chose to start here instead of diving into crafting or blacksmithing because everything I wanted to do would eventually require control over some form of energy. Without that foundation, I risked building misconceptions.
A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.
For simplicity’s sake, I decided to just refer to it all as “mana.” If anyone challenged me, I’d shrug and say, “Tomato, tomato.”
The first step was learning to sense it. According to the books, this was the hardest part. Once achieved, everything else would supposedly fall into place. The only limitations from there would be my innate capacity and imagination.
I figured if there was any protagonist power involved in being dumped into another world, maybe—just maybe—I’d get a few perks. I hoped so, anyway.
There were three methods listed for learning mana sensitivity:
- The first involved meditating in a place rich in mana—typically among enchanted plants or specific environments. Luckily, I had a garden out back that fit that description.
- The second method required a teacher with refined mana control to channel it into you until you could feel it. Then you’d learn to block it. But that clearly wasn’t an option—I was alone.
- The third method? Painful. Supposedly guaranteed. Also known as the magical equivalent of sticking a fork into an electrical socket.
Naturally, I said, “Why not?”
There was no power outlet in this world, of course. But I did have access to a box in the dojo, filled to the brim with small blue gemstones. Inspect revealed:
MANA STONE, LEVEL 2 — LOW CAPACITY
(x74)
That was a lot. Not something most people would just have lying around.
Every book I’d read on mana sensitivity—seventeen at that point—said this method worked. Every book also emphasized, repeatedly, that it was unbelievably painful.
The process was simple:
Place one of the mana stones under your tongue. Bite down on a piece of rolled leather to protect your teeth and keep from swallowing your tongue. And maybe pray.
Lacking supervision, and knowing I was in a remote location (thanks, Javier), I found a leather roll in the crafting room, bit down, and dropped a mana stone under my tongue.
For about thirty seconds… nothing. Then a spark. Then ice, fire, lightning, lava, colors I couldn’t describe—all of it exploded inside my skull.
Good news: book five mentioned that some lucky few passed out around the 20-second mark—usually a sign of high potential.
Bad news: I woke up.
Eyes fluttering open with Herculean effort, I realized I couldn’t move. Couldn’t roll over. Couldn’t wiggle a toe. I lay there for hours, slowly regaining sensation and trying to move.
But I could sense mana.
It wasn’t visible, but I knew it was there—like a breeze on bare skin. It had layers, colors, smells, even flavors, if that makes any sense. I could feel it in the garden, in the house, everywhere. And in stunning clarity.
Eventually, I managed to wiggle my ankle, and I remembered the next step, described in book seven: breathe in the mana and guide it to your cores—or chakras. Depending on which chakras absorbed it first, you could determine your magical affinity.
So, I began.
Sarcastically, I noted how “scientific” this was.
I drew in mana and gently guided it through my body. The first core I hit—somewhere around my kidney, I think—began to absorb it like a vacuum. A continuous deluge lasted for nearly two hours before it slowed.
Then I guided the mana down to the base of my spine and hit another core. More absorption. As the first filled, sensation returned to my limbs. A lightness spread through me.
As the second core began to fill, it felt like being released from a full-body paralysis. I could sit up again.
Feeling like I was on a roll, I continued.
I discovered five active cores before fatigue overtook me:
When studying what each one was for there was a handy list in book 18.
They included:
- Root Core (Base of spine) – Physical strength, grounding, stamina.
- Sacral Core (Lower back/kidneys) – Vitality, agility, adaptability.
- Solar Core (Just above the stomach) – Willpower, reaction speed, control.
- Heart Core (Center of chest) – Magical defense, empathy-based enchantments.
- Mind Core (Center of the forehead) – Precision casting, magical perception.
There were supposed to be two more—the Throat Core (communication, spell chant clarity) and Crown Core (universal magic, spiritual influence)—but I hadn’t found them yet.
I was exhausted… but finally, finally, I had taken the first real step forward in this world.
When I woke up the next morning, there was a portal in the courtyard.
I guess I get to go home for a bit.