Mana Mirror: Chapter Ten (Patreon)

When we arrived at the Mossford Central Library, it had begun to drizzle, and I wished that I’d brought an umbrella. My suits may be resistant to dirt and grime, but they did nothing against simple rain.

Even in the rain, though, I couldn’t help but admire the library. The central library was on Ninetieth and Ninety-First Streets, so it was usually too far for me to visit – normally, I went to the smaller one on my side of town, in the craft district.

Mossford Central Library had started out as a castle, long ago, belonging to one of the original rulers of Mossford before it had been donated to the public.

Rumors said that the original prince who had owned the castle had loved books so much that even the hallways began to fill with them, and the royal family had only donated it to get out of the mess of sorting the whole thing.

I wasn’t sure I believed that – even though the royals of today’s world only had a single seat in the parliament, they were still renowned for their generosity – but there may have been a kernel of truth to them not wanting to sort through the mess. I enjoyed reading as much as the next person, but I wouldn’t want to try and organize that many books.

Even to this day, the library still bore some resemblance to its original state. It was a square building, four stories tall, with five-story high towers at each of its corners, tipped with blue conical roofs.

The pure white limestone was streaked with age and covered in ivy, which was barely kept off the pointed, arched windows, lacing around the columns of the four large entry arches.

I passed under them through the old oaken doors onto the cold floors and started shivering. The light spells that mimicked braziers of flame on either side of the entry hall were excellent at shedding light without risking any of the books, but they were definitely not as warm as real fire.

“You alright there?” a young man asked. For a moment I tensed, worried that I was going to run into another creep, but the man who’d asked was just a library worker, coming to shut the doors from the rain.

“Yeah, thanks,” I said with an awkward smile.

I tapped into my ungated mana and cast a spell over myself. It was the functional inverse of the spell that I used to cool myself. It gave me relief for a few moments – until my mana ran out.

I was tempted to convert some of my first gate mana into ungated in order to cast the spell again, but that would be a pointless waste. I needed as much mana in my Analyze spells as I could, and I’d already wasted half my garden of death mana scaring off the creep.

I wandered deeper into the library, heading to the stairs, starting to shiver some as I did. I may grab a book or two about butchery later, but for now, I needed a combat spell.

I used a spark of ungated mana to unlock the stairs.

The first floor of the library didn’t have any magical texts. The second floor held the ungated mana texts, and I’d never been allowed further.

Presumably, the third held texts about first gate spells, the fourth held second gate, and the third gate were stored in the towers.

Sure enough, I was able to use a tiny flicker of first gate mana to head on up to the third floor, and I headed to the section about death spells.

There were a lot more than I’d been expecting, which on second thought was pretty nonsensical. There were quite literally millions of ungated mana spells for everything from levitation, to shaving, to helping proof dough more consistently, to removing stains from clothing.

But I hadn’t expected to find literally thousands of books on death mana. Even if most of them were entirely theoretical, there would still be hundreds of books with actual spells in them, and there would be dozens and dozens with battle spells in them.

I began to browse the shelves, looking at some of the names on display. They looked entirely mundane: A Thousand and One Ways to Use Death Mana in Vegan Cooking, Studies of Death Mana Flows in Livestock, Bones and Butchery.

I frowned. Was I in the kitchen section? These seemed to be entirely about cooking…

I shifted down another row, looking for spells about combat, and then down another shelf.

“Oh, hey!” I heard someone call from the aisle, in a whisper-shout.

I looked up to see the man who’d closed the doors to the library.

“I got you a towel,” he said with a wan smile, holding it out to me.

I looked at it for a moment, then took it and started to dry my hair out. It had probably been dripping all over the library.

“Yeah, thanks, sorry about the dripping,” I said. I took a moment to examine the man who’d brought me the towel.

He looked like he was my age, though he may have been a few months older. He was about three or four inches taller than me, and wore a thick brown turtleneck sweater, with a pair of thick glasses. He was darker skinned than me, though it wasn’t as dark as Meadow or Liz’s skin, and he had thick black hair in a short cut.

“It happens. You didn’t get it on any of the books, did you?” he asked. “You can be honest. I’ve got restoration spells that should make simple work of ordinary water.”

“No, I haven’t,” I confirmed. “But… would you be able to help me with something?”

“Of course!” the librarian said, pushing up his glasses as they started to slip off his nose. “What did you want to know? Something about death mana, I’m assuming. The hospital texts are a few more rows down, since there’s a lot of overlap with the life mana spells.”

“Oh, I’m not a medical mage,” I said. He tilted his head, his glasses slipping again.

“Really? I assumed with your life and death mana, you’d have no problems getting an apprenticeship at any of the hospitals…”

“How did you know I had both?” I asked curiously.

“Oh, I didn’t mean to pry,” he said, backpedaling. “I’ve ingrained a spell that allows me to analyze mana-gardens, and it’s granted me a general sense of someone’s mana-garden, even without casting the spell. Just the type and what gates they’ve unlocked.”

“You have death mana?” I asked curiously. Orykson had said there were death mana spells to analyze mana-gardens, after all.

“No, I’ve got knowledge,” he said. “As well as mental mana. It’s why I was recruited for the Librarians.”

“Wait, my mentor told me that spell was a death mana spell.”

“Oh, it is. Few robust spells can only be used with one type of mana. For example, what’s a fire spell?”

“Solar mana,” I answered easily.

“Then a fireball is solar?” he asked.

“Yes…” I said, feeling like I was walking into a trap that I didn’t realize was there.

“Then why can a desolation Spellbinder cast a fireball spell?”

“Because it’s destruction and desolation related,” I said, “Which… yeah, I see your point. Analyze Mana-Garden is designed to work with both death and knowledge mana?”

“Yep! If you had both, then you’d be able to mix them in the spell and cast it for less mana.”

Now, that didsound interesting…

“Where does it go in your mana-garden if it becomes an ingrained spell?” I asked.

“If you’re casting it evenly with both, then you’ll wind up with a bit of both of your first gate mana being absorbed. A smaller tree in each garden, but together a greater effect. Why the interest in ingrained spells?”

“My master has me casting the Analyze Life and Analyze Death spells until I have them ingrained,” I said. “Though, I suspect he’s going to want me to ingrain all of my spells. He seems like the sort.”

“Interesting. Are you sure you’ve got the name of the spells right?” he asked.

“Pretty sure,” I said.

“Can I see them?”

I drew out my life mana and sketched out the Analyze Life spell, then began to pour power into it.

“Woah, wait, what are you doing?” he asked, sounding mildly confused.

“Casting Analyze Life?” I said as I rapidly cut power from the spell. Was that not obvious?

“Did you already master it, and just decided to sketch it out for my benefit?” he asked.

“No,” I said, and waited for him to explain. He seemed like the sort of person who liked to explain things.

“Mastery of a spell is just teaching your mana-garden to flow out in a specific pattern,” he explained. “The best way to master a spell is to sketch the spell, then let your mana collapse, then sketch it again.”

“What about moving from mastery to ingrained?” I asked.

“Pouring gobs of mana into the spell is half of it, but the other half is learning to understand the spell. Using it to Analyze things, in your case. They’re also not mutually exclusive. Mastery always comes first, but you can usually go from mastery to ingrained in a month or two, if you’ve been regularly using the spell. Anyways, yeah, that is Analyze Life. Weird. Most people don’t bother with the comprehensive analytical spells. A plant mage doesn’t need to see how organs work, for example.”

That was strange, but I trusted Orykson, at least on this. Both he and Meadow had used more comprehensive analytical spells. But we were getting off topic.

“You were going to help me find a spell?” I reminded him.

“Oh, yes!” he said with a smile. “Sorry, I’m easily distractible. Which reminds me, I never introduced myself. I’m Alvaro.”

“Nice to meet you, Alvaro,” I said. “I wanted some help finding a combat spell, please?”

Alvaro’s cheerful demeanor dampened as he gave me a suspicious look.

“Why?” he asked.

“Self-defense,” I said. “I’ve been doing some freelance work with the Wyldwatch and Spiritwatch, and I encountered a real creep on the trail today. I bluffed out of it, but I have to wonder… what if it hadn’t gone as well.”

His face softened and he nodded.

“I understand. But you also should know that we don’t usually teach the public attack spells if they’re not part of the Watches or otherwise got dispensation, or else are friends of the library.”

I wondered if dropping Orykson’s name would let them waive that rule, but I dismissed the idea quickly. It could just as easily get back to him.

“I do freelance work for the Wyldwatch and Spiritwatch, like I said.”

He considered me for a few moments, then eventually seemed to make up his mind.

“How about a defensive combat spell?”

I considered that. It wasn’t ideal, since I’d want to be able to make people back off, but protecting myself was useful. Especially since the suit didn’t cover my head.

Plus, Orykson had mentioned getting me an offensive spell at some point.

“My clothes are enchanted to act as a strong defense against ordinary force and magic, up to a point,” I said. “Is there anything that can work with that?”

“I think so,” he said. “I’d also be fine giving you a control spell to limit mobility, if that would be better? Normally, I wouldn’t do that, but since you do contract work… I’ll make a copy of your ID and write down the spell you get, so don’t get any ideas about abusing it, okay?”

“I understand,” I said seriously. It was actually a bit reassuring to me to know that a spell like that was going to be recorded, and a control spell wouldn’t overlap too much with Orykson’s plans, or mean I was doubling down on defense.

“Is there anything specific about the spell you need?” he asked.

“My mentor also tends to favor long-term advantages, I think. Ideally, I’d like something that ingrains well, even if it isn’t as strong right off the bat. That being said, I don’t want it to be useless until it’s ingrained, as I do still need to be able to use it.”

He gave me a contemplative look, then nodded again.

“Is there anything else?”

I considered for a moment, then inspiration struck me.

“I have life and death mana, but my legacy makes mixing inverse mana types more efficient. A spell that uses both of them would be really helpful.”

A tiny smile curled at the corner of his mouth.

“You want something that will help your long-term growth, mixes two inverse mana types, and is also immediately useful? That’s an interesting challenge. I’ll see what I can do – wait here.”

He stepped away, turned behind a pillar, and vanished.

I walked around the pillar myself, trying to see if I could find any teleportation magic hanging around, but either my sense for mana wasn’t acute enough to pick it up, it was hidden, or there wasn’t one.

I waited at a table for him to come back. By the time ten minutes had ticked by, I wasn’t sure if he’d be coming back, but I figured that even for a librarian, searching a place like this had to be a chore, doubly so if getting to the combat spells was difficult.

So instead, I browsed the shelves. I was actually able to find a couple of combat texts, but a quick flip through revealed that they were entirely theoretical, so I put them down.

I went back to the book Bones and Butchery and picked it up. It was a medium-sized volume and it seemed to contain several spells for breaking down meats of all sorts. Interestingly, it made a claim early on that Analyze Corpse was the best friend of a butcher who really wanted to master their craft.

The Analyze Corpse spell did resemble the Analyze Death spell that I’d been given by Orykson, but it was about a third as complex, maybe even less. That seemed to corroborate what Meadow had said.

The rest of the book seemed to be half about breaking down food with a knife, and half about breaking it down with spells, or using spells to tenderize meat and other applications.

I was almost done paging through the book when Alvaro returned with a bundle of papers tucked under his arm, bound in twine.

“I found something that I think you may find interesting,” he said as he placed the papers down on the table and untied them. “It meets all three of your requirements. I do have a few backups prepared as well in case you don’t like this spell, but they’re not quite as effective for you.”

I glanced at the top of the small stack. It was a title page with the name of the spell.

“Fungal Lock?” I asked aloud.

“Yep! It mixes both life and death mana to create artificial fungi and mycelium all over an attacker, slowing their limbs down significantly and sapping their strength away. It’s limited to only one target per casting, which can be an issue for some, but for simple self-defense, that should be fine. If you have to cast it twice, you have to cast it twice.”

I wasn’t entirely sure I agreed, but I wasn’t going to argue with his logic, either. The spell did seem really powerful – slowing and draining someone at once.

“What does it do when it’s ingrained?” I asked curiously.

“That’s the most fascinating part. It increases the efficacy of draining spells, which… There are a lot of spells designed to drain someone – either their life energy to fatigue them, or their mana-gardens, or even harvesting spells designed to help restore your own mana! So, what do you think? Wanna take Fungal Lock?”

I hesitated for a moment. It did sound really good, but I wasn’t sure if increasing the efficacy of draining spells was something I’d be getting a ton of use out of, and I didn’t want to upset my teacher.

Then a memory sparked. Hadn’t Orykson stated that he was going to be teaching me a mana-harvesting spell? If that was the case, then he surely wouldn’t object to me picking up a spell that was going to enhance the effect of something that was in his syllabus.

I put my hand down on the pile, my mind made up.

“I’ll take it,” I said.

“Alright,” Alvaro said, laughing awkwardly and tucking his hands into his pockets. “I’m glad. I had to fight my supervisor to allow you to see the spell, since you’re not listed as a friend of the library. Anything else I can help you with? Preferably not combat-related.”

I thought for a second.

“Is there any way to become a friend of the library?” I asked after a moment. He gave me a small, almost shy, grin.

“Keep coming and reading. I’m sure we can figure something out.”

I nodded at the pile of papers.

“Do I just take this and check it out? Or is there something else I need to do instead? I’ve never been given a pile of papers when I asked for something here before.”

“It’s a copy service,” he explained. “One silver per twenty pages. It’s pretty standard when someone needs a copy of a spell that’s in our restricted areas.”

I nodded, then tucked away the book about butchery as well as the copied Fungal Lock spell. I glanced out the window to see that it was still raining and smiled.

“I think I’ll go read in the reading area while I wait for the storm to break, if that’s okay?”

“Of course,” he said, pushing his glasses up his nose, “I should get back to work. It was nice meeting you.”

“Nice meeting you, too,” I said, then headed downstairs and over towards the well-lit, warm reading area. I sank into a leather chair and undid the twine on the Fungal Lock spell.

It was eleven pages long, but the actual spell only covered one page. The rest discussed the theory behind the spell, ratios of mixing the mana types, mana efficiency rates, and more. It was interesting, but not the most immediately useful information.

I studied the spell itself until I was confident that I’d memorized it and would be able to sketch it when I needed to, then I started to read the details. As I read, I idly called up life and death mana and sketched out the Analyze spells until my reserves were drained again.

This method was… strange. Sketching out a spell to activate it only took a minimal amount of mana, but repeatedly shaping the mana into the complicated shape of the Analyze Life and Analyze Death spells was definitely increasing the efficiency with which I could draw the spell in the air. I could see how this would lead to mastery, but I didn’t think it would ever push the spell to become ingrained in my mana-garden.

Once my mana was dry, I shifted to reading the butchery book. I couldn’t see myself actually bothering to remember most of the spells in the book – several of them were aimed at breaking down large quantities of meat at once, which I wasn’t going to do – but even the non-magical sections were useful.

Once the storm had begun to lighten up, I stepped out and hailed a carriage. That night, I took more of the Lithetic tea and went to bed. As I laid there waiting to fall asleep, I contemplated how my first week of training had gone.

All things considered, I thought that I’d had a fairly successful first week. I’d managed to noticeably increase the size of my first gate mana, even though it wasn’t by much, and I’d learned ways to increase my efficiency in the coming weeks.