Chapter 44: Vesper

Chapter 44: Chapter 44: Vesper

"Failure is simply the opportunity to begin again, this time more wisely." — Henry Ford

The morning after his shopping trip, Riven sat cross legged on the floor of his small room, the dark bound Umbral Needle grimoire open before him.

The diagrams inside were more complicated than he had expected. They showed how to circulate shadow mana through his core, direct it down his arm, and gather it at his fingertips. Unlike Shadow Veil, which simply coated the edge of a weapon, this spell required him to shape his mana into a solid projectile.

He studied the diagrams for several minutes before closing his eyes.

Riven reached inward, focusing on the faint, dark hum of his Level 1 core. Since it had entered the Blooming phase, he could feel a subtle warmth within his chest. It was a small change, but one he hoped would eventually lead to his next level.

He drew a thread of mana from his core and guided it down his arm.

At first, the process went smoothly. He could feel the energy moving through his channels, gathering near his fingertips.

Then he tried to compress it.

The mana fractured.

A sharp headache spread through his temples, and the energy dispersed before he could form anything resembling a projectile. Riven opened his eyes and took a slow breath, waiting for the pain to subside.

He tried again.

The result was the same.

By midday, he had made dozens of attempts. Each one left him more exhausted than the last. At best, he managed to produce a faint wisp of dark smoke before the mana scattered.

His core felt nearly empty, and the headache had become difficult to ignore.

Riven stared at the grimoire in frustration.

He had spent a considerable amount of money on it, yet he couldn’t even cast the simplest version of the spell.

He closed the book and placed it inside his spatial bag. If he continued like this, he would spend weeks making little progress. He needed someone who understood magic well enough to explain what he was doing wrong.

Fortunately, he knew someone who might be able to help.

Aiden.

The Adventurers’ Guild was already busy when Riven arrived.

Several adventurers crowded around the bounty board, arguing over which contracts were worth taking. Others sat at the tables, eating breakfast or discussing their recent expeditions.

Riven spotted Aiden near the back of the common hall. The one eyed veteran was leaning against a wooden pillar, smoking a short pipe while watching two mercenaries argue over a bounty posting.

Riven approached and placed the cloth wrapped grimoire on the table beside him.

Aiden glanced at the book, then at Riven’s pale face.

A dry smirk appeared beneath his mustache.

"Trying to teach yourself a ranged spell from a second hand book, are you?"

Riven didn’t answer.

"Let me guess." Aiden tapped the ash from his pipe. "You’ve been forcing mana down your arm, your head feels like it’s splitting in two, and nothings happening."

Riven frowned slightly.

"The mana channels are tighter than they are for Shadow Veil," he admitted.

"Of course they are. You’re trying to do something considerably more complicated."

Aiden took another puff from his pipe before reaching into his pocket. He pulled out a small copper coin and flicked it across the table.

"Go down to the western annex, past the apothecary. There’s a cramped little workshop with a burnt wood sign shaped like a crackling bolt. Tell Vesper that Aiden sent you."

Riven caught the coin.

"Vesper?"

"C tier adventurer. Tier Four core. She owes me a favor."

Aiden turned his attention back to the mercenaries.

"She specializes in lightning, but mana manipulation follows the same basic principles regardless of affinity. If anyone can keep you from blowing your own fingers off while trying to cast a spell, it’s her."

He waved his pipe dismissively.

"Now get out of my sight."

Riven pocketed the coin and picked up his grimoire.

He had no intention of wasting the opportunity.

The western annex was tucked away in the lower district, beyond a row of shops and a small apothecary.

Riven followed Aiden’s directions through several narrow alleys before finding the workshop. Its wooden sign was unmistakable. A crude lightning bolt had been burned into its surface, leaving the edges blackened.

The door was slightly ajar.

A sharp, metallic smell hung in the air, reminding him of the scent that lingered after a lightning strike.

Riven pushed the door open.

The workshop was a mess.

Cracked glass vials covered one table, while scorched copper plates and strange mechanical components were scattered across another. Several glowing runes had been carved into the floor, and a small metal device near the back of the room occasionally spat sparks.

In the center of it all stood a woman.

She was barely five feet tall, with wild, electric violet hair tied into a messy braid. She looked young, perhaps only a few years older than Riven, but the powerful mana radiating from her made her true strength impossible to mistake.

She was leaning over a worktable, aggressively adjusting a sparking conduit with a small wrench.

A particularly loud crackle filled the room.

"Come on, you stupid piece of"

She slammed the wrench onto the table.

Then she noticed Riven standing in the doorway.

Her violet eyes narrowed.

"Well? Are you going to stand there letting the draft in, or are you going to tell me what you want?"

Riven remained still.

"You look entirely too small to be a courier," she added.

"Aiden sent me," he replied evenly. "He said you could help me understand spell manipulation."

The woman’s expression changed.

She crossed her arms and looked him up and down, taking in his reinforced leather vest, sword cloak, and the serious expression on his face.

"Aiden sent you?"

"Yes."

"The old cyclops actually sent someone worth looking at for once? Color me shocked."

She walked over and stopped in front of him. Without asking permission, she poked a finger against his chest.

"Level One core, blooming, huh?"

Riven glanced down at her finger before looking back at her.

"And let me guess. You bought some fancy grimoire, tried to force a bunch of complicated mana patterns through it, and nearly turned your own brains to mush."

He didn’t answer.

Vesper grinned.

"Thought so."

She pulled out a low stool and pointed at it.

"Sit."

Riven obeyed, placing the grimoire on the table.

Vesper began pacing around him, her hands moving as she spoke.

"Listen carefully, kid. Magic isn’t just about how much mana you have or how impressive a spell looks. A higher tier spell isn’t automatically better than a lower tier one."

She stopped in front of him.

"Take your Umbral Needle, for example. It’s a Tier One spell. Simple, relatively cheap, and easy enough for someone with your core to learn. But that doesn’t mean it’s useless."

She picked up a small metal rod from the table and held it between two fingers.

"Mana architecture determines how a spell works. Some spells spread mana over a wide area. Others concentrate it into a single point. The important part is understanding how to shape the energy without wasting it."

She set the rod down.

"With enough control, you can put more mana into a simple spell and increase its power. But there’s a limit. If you overload the structure or lose control, the spell collapses. And if you force too much mana through your channels, you can injure yourself."

Riven listened carefully.

He had already learned the danger of casting spells beyond his core’s level. He had no desire to damage his mana channels by being careless.

"Can I make Umbral Needle stronger by adding more mana?" he asked.

"Eventually. But first, you need to learn how to cast it properly. There’s no point trying to make a spell stronger when you can’t even hold its shape."

Vesper reached for a smooth river stone and placed it in his hand.

"Before we touch that grimoire, we’re fixing your foundation. Give me your other hand."

Riven hesitated briefly before extending it.

Vesper placed her palm against his.

A tingling sensation spread through his fingers. Violet mana flowed into his hand, and for a moment, the sheer amount of energy overwhelmed his senses.

He instinctively tried to pull away.

"Relax," Vesper snapped. "I’m not trying to fry you."

Riven forced himself to remain still.

"Most people treat their cores like buckets. They fill them up, use the mana, and wait for them to refill. That’s fine for beginners, but it doesn’t teach you much about controlling the flow."

She withdrew her hand.

"Your core is the source. Your channels are the pathways. If you want to improve your control, you need to understand how mana moves through both."

"You’re going to draw a small amount of mana from your core, circulate it through your channels, and return it. Slowly. No spells, no sudden bursts, and absolutely no forcing it."

"What does that do?"

"It teaches you to maintain a steady flow. Over time, proper training can improve your control and help you use your mana more efficiently. It won’t magically increase your core’s capacity overnight, though."

Vesper leaned closer.

Riven nodded.

"Good. Now close your eyes."

The next two hours were miserable.

Vesper made him circulate tiny amounts of mana through his core and back again. Whenever the flow became uneven, she stopped him and made him start over.

At first, Riven struggled to maintain even the simplest loop.

His mana would gather too quickly, stall in his channels, or scatter before it could return to his core. Each mistake brought a sharp sensation of pressure in his chest or a dull ache behind his eyes.

Vesper showed little sympathy.

"Too fast."

Riven tried again.

"You’re pushing it. Let the mana move."

He tried again.

"That’s not a loop. You’re dumping it into your arm and hoping it comes back."

Another attempt.

"Better. Keep it steady."

Riven gritted his teeth and continued.

The exercise was far more difficult than he had expected. He had grown accustomed to using Shadow Veil, but that technique required only a relatively simple flow of mana along a weapon’s edge.

This was different.

He had to maintain control over the mana throughout the entire process. Even a slight change in pressure could disrupt the circulation.

By the time the sun began to set, his upper body felt exhausted. His chest was sore, his arms were heavy, and his head throbbed.

Vesper finally raised a hand.

"That’s enough for today."

Riven opened his eyes.

He hadn’t realized how tired he was until she stopped him.

"Was that supposed to increase my mana?" he asked.

"No. Not directly. You’re learning control. If you want to increase your capacity, that’s something you’ll work toward over time. Right now, you can barely keep a simple circulation going."

She leaned against the table and wiped a smudge of soot from her cheek.

"Now, let’s see how badly you’ve been butchering that spell."

Riven reached into his spatial bag and pulled out the Umbral Needle grimoire.

He placed it on the table and opened it to the diagrams he had studied that morning.

Vesper leaned over his shoulder.

"Show me what you’ve been doing."

Riven followed the instructions in the book. He closed his eyes and reached into his core, drawing out a thin stream of shadow mana.

This time, he didn’t try to force it down his arm.

He let it flow.

The energy moved more smoothly than before, following the pathways shown in the grimoire. When it reached his palm, he began gathering it into a small mass.

A dark swirl formed above his hand.

Riven concentrated, slowly compressing the mana.

The shape became denser, its edges beginning to resemble the pointed projectile illustrated in the book.

He could feel the difference immediately. The pressure was steady, and the familiar headache hadn’t returned.

"Good," Vesper said. "Don’t rush it."

Riven focused on the spell’s final step.

The mana needed to rotate and compress into a rigid point. He tried to guide it into position, but his control faltered.

Crack.

The shadow mass flickered violently.

Its shape collapsed, dissolving into a puff of dark mist that vanished against the wooden tabletop.

Riven opened his eyes and lowered his hand.

He was breathing heavily.

Another failure.

Vesper, however, seemed pleased.

"Don’t look so miserable. You held the shape three times longer than you did this morning."

Riven glanced at the fading mist.

"But it still failed."

"Of course it did. You haven’t figured out the rotational compression needed to lock the projectile together."

She tapped the open page.

"That’s what practice is for."

Riven looked down at his hand. He could still feel the faint remnants of mana lingering in his fingers.

For the first time that day, he felt as though he had actually made progress.

Vesper closed the grimoire.

"You’re five years old, running a Blooming Level One core, and you managed to form the beginning of a ranged spell on your first day of proper instruction. That’s not bad."

Riven wasn’t sure whether she was genuinely impressed or simply trying to encourage him.

Either way, he appreciated it.

"Can I come back tomorrow?"

Vesper raised an eyebrow.

"Did I say you couldn’t?"

"No."

"Then come back at dawn. We’ll try again."

She pointed toward the door.

"And get some sleep tonight. Eat something with actual salt in it, too. You look like you’re about to collapse."

Riven packed away the grimoire and stood.

"Thank you."

Vesper waved him off.

"Save your thanks until you can actually cast the thing."

Riven left the workshop as the sun dipped below the rooftops.

His first attempt at learning Umbral Needle had been a failure, but he now understood why. He had been trying to force the spell into existence without understanding how to control the mana that formed it.

It would take time.

Still, he had managed to hold the shape longer than before, and his core hadn’t rejected the attempt.

For now, that was enough.

Tomorrow, he would try again.