Auryn walked through the castle corridors. Afternoon light stretched long across the stone.
His mind still churned from Borin's revelation. The ledger and Marten's ravens.
Vaedon is patient and methodical. Building his case while I scramble. I need to be stronger when he strikes again.
The training yard came into view. Empty and isolated. Perfect for a novice.
He removed his outer shirt. Bandaged torso exposed. Burned hands visible beneath fresh wrappings.
Time to see what this dragon blood can really do.
He stood in the center of the yard. Closed his eyes and focused within himself.
He searched for his mana core. Supposeh near the heart with pathways branching through the body.
He'd read about this in the novel a couple of times. Chapter 8. The magic system primer. Dry as dust but essential.
Find the warmth. The pulse. He repeated inwardly. After a few minutes his eyes snapped open.
"There"
He found the heat in his chest. Deeper than muscle and bone. A presence within him. Alive and throbbing like a second heart.
"The mana core."
He focused on it. Felt the heat and size. It scorched as if waiting to be unleashed.
Auryn pushed his awareness outward from the core. The pathway. Channels branching through his body like veins. Some felt wide and clear. Already carved by the dragon contract. His heritage as a prince.
Others were narrow, barely opened. He would need to develop those. Mostly the one to his throat.
It was exactly how the book explained with minor adjustments.
It's like plumbing. Core is the reservoir and the pathways are the pipes for distribution.
Flow needs direction. Requires pressure and a stable structure. I understand structure.
He took a deep breath and focused on his right palm.
Let's start simple. He thought.
Directing mana from his core to hand. It was a mental push. Like flexing a muscle he'd never used.
It moved but he could feel friction. There was resistance. The pathway was open but unpracticed. Like pushing water through a kinked hose.
Auryn sighed deeply. Closed his eyes and forced it through.
His chest ached from the forceful approach. It felt Hollow. This was the sensation of mana draining.
With his eyes still closed. His palm tingled. Warmth spread through. Then
Flame.
Small and yellow. Flickering like a candle. Auryn stared at it. The most excited grin appeared on his face.
I did it. He celebrated
The flame wavered. It was still unstable. He focused. Tried sustaining it.
He held it for fifteen seconds then it guttered out.
He gasped. The hollow feeling in his chest deepened.
Again!
He kept at it. Created the fire and dispelled it and at the fourth attempt he held it for a full minute. The flame held steady, responding to him like an extension of his body.
He dismissed it and sat on the training yard bench.This was basic but good progress for his first attempt.
His mind wondered back to the novel. Chapter 23. Ignaris—the Dragon God got a cameo. manifesting a devastating spear of compressed fire. The technique was called Scorching Halberd.
The assassin leader had used a weaker version. Burning Lance.
If a Rank 3 mage could do it...
Auryn stood. Grinned despite the pain in his hands.
Let's see if I can too.
He summoned flames again. Held it in his palm. He closed his eyes.
Compress it, increase it's density and forrce it inward.
He pushed himself. Mentally squeezed the flame like clay. The flame shrank. Intensified. Yellow slowly shifted toward orange.
Yes. Come on. COMPRESS
FWOOM.
The flame exploded outward. Heat blasted his face. Forcefully threw him backward.
He hit the ground hard. Rolled before standing up. coughing.
His bandaged hand felt like something was about to rip through the bandages. Smoke rose from the wrappings.
"FUCK!"
He shook his hand frantically. Patted out the smoldering bandages.
"Ow. Ow. Damn it—"
He sat on the floor. Breathing hard.
Too much compression. Rank 2(adept) mana channels can't handle that pressure or I'm doing it wrong. Probably both.
He stood. Dusted himself off. But wasn't stopping now.
Fine. Different technique then
Auryn's relaxed and he recalled Chapter 150
"Elder dragons breathe concentrated streams of fire. Not fireballs. Massive streams."
*That's... that's literally dragon's breath. Should be a normal dragon ability"
How hard could it be?
He focused and directed mana to his throat. The pathway that existed there was quite narrow. Unused.
A burning sensation arose. It was uncomfortable but not painful.He opened his mouth. Exhaled while pushing mana.
He visualized what he wanted and a thin stream of flame emerged like a blowtorch.
It lasted three seconds before sputtering out. He coughed as thick smoke puffed from his mouth.
His throat burned. Like he'd swallowed hot coals.
"Gah—"
He coughed harder. Eyes watering.
That... worked. Sort of. He encouraged himself
It was weaker than the novel described. But it's there.
He tried again. Stream lasted five seconds this time. Third attempt lasted seven seconds. Slightly hotter.
His pathways were adapting. He stopped. His throat felt like it was about peel off.
I can do this and with a week of practice. I'll breathe fire like a beast.
He touched his throat.
Okay let's say a month—
He grinned through the pain. Excited more than anything else.
---
He sat thinking of what he could actually do and finally recalled something.
He couldn't really remember the exact chapter number but it was when a monk was teaching the hero advanced mana manipulation techniques.
"Flame Shaping. Dragons don't just create fire.They could scultpt it into complex forms and patterns."
That's...
His architect brain lit up.
That's my thing. Structure. Geometry. Design.
He conjured two flames. One in each palm. Felt the mana pathways. The flow. The architecture of magic.
If mana is structure... fire is the material... then I can BUILD with it.
He focused and visualized a simple shape.
Triangle.
He directed the flames. Moved them through the air. Positioned them at three points.
Left hand. Right hand. Then—carefully—he split the right flame. Sent half upward.
The three points were hovering. Steady and balanced.
Hold. HOLD— His mind screamed.
The flames held their positions. Forming a perfect triangle in the air. He held it without issues for awhile and then his concentration slipped.
The flames collapsed back to his palms.
But he'd done it.
Holy shit. I actually did it.
He tried again. This time a square. Four flames—two per hand, split and positioned.
It took three attempts. The flames kept collapsing. Snapping back like rubber bands.
But on the fourth try. Four flames. Four corners. Perfect square. Hovering in the air. Lasted fifteen seconds before his mana stuttered.
He stood there. Breathing hard. Grinning like an idiot.
"When this frauds throw fire. I make it bend to my will. That's how you use fire. " He praised his own efforts.
Feeling his mana depleted. He moved backwards and sat on the chair.
Three techniques tested. He thought.
Though he failed woefully with one. He made progress and progress… well progress was good no matter how small.
He looked at his burned palms. I'm Rank 2. Trying techniques meant for Rank 3 and 4.
Ambitious. Stupid, maybe.
He smiled despite the pain.
But that last one... that worked better than it should have. Soon I'll create complex patterns. Walls of fire. Cages. Things nobody's ever seen here.
—
He was still taking in his progress when his senses caught approaching footsteps.
Borin walked into the yard. Carrying a water jug. He stopped when he was close. Looking at Auryn who was sweaty. Bandages smoking. Grinning like a maniac.
Borin sighed.
"Lad. What in the seven hells are you doing?"
"Training."
"Training." Borin's voice was flat. "You look like you tried to wrestle a demon."
"Only blew myself up once."
"ONCE?"
"Small explosion. Barely counts."
Borin walked over. Shoved the water jug at him.
"Drink. Before you pass out and I have to carry your stupid ass back inside."
Auryn took it. Drank deeply. Gulped half the jug. 8He hadn't realized how thirsty he was.
"Better?" Borin asked.
"Much."
Borin sat beside him on the bench. The wood creaked under his weight. His head barely on Auryn's shoulder level.
"I saw the explosion from my window. Thought you'd killed yourself."
"Tried a fire lance technique. It didn't work."
"Clearly." Borin gestured at the smoking bandages. "What else did you try? Besides suicide?"
"Dragon's breath. Got a weak version working."
Borin raised an eyebrow. "You breathed fire?"
"Little bit."
"Still counts as breathing fire, lad."
Auryn grinned. "Right?"
Borin shook his head. He was proud of the boy's growth though he didn't openly admit it.
"You did well but you've to stop pushing while injured." Borin's voice softened. "Come on. You have to eat and rest. You can play with fire tomorrow"
"I need to train. Vaedon—" Auryn's eyes were determined.
"—will still be a bastard tomorrow." Borin stood. Offered his hand. "Dead men can't fight... Eat, sleep then train."
Auryn hesitated. Then took the offered hand. Let Borin pull him up.
"Fine."
"Good lad."
They walked toward the castle together. The sun setting with orange light casting low shadows on the castle wall.
Auryn's legs were steady. He was tired but not overwhelmed even by his new injuries.
That's progress I guess. He reassured himself.
Borin walked beside him. Quiet with a cheering grin on his face. Auryn touched the Life Anchor amulet through his shirt.
One day at a time. Build strength, master my abilities. Clean house.
Then face that snake Vaedon properly.
He glanced back at the training yard.
Tomorrow. And every day after. Until I'm strong enough that no one can touch me.
Until the weak third prince becomes a joke no one dares to tell.