MIDAS

"Underdeveloped..?" The boy muttered, his lip slightly trembling as he glanced at the boney fingers of the old man, grabbing a tight hold onto his wrist. His breathing hitching slightly, as the only real way of gaining power to be able to withstand the storm to the east and anything that may lurk on his way to the temple was by using the same sun shards Alma was using to ride the sledge. Midas knew that training his mana was unavoidable; since he was aware of his young age, basically starting over, it would take time to establish the same firm grip he had when it came to linguistics.

"Yes..whoever birthed you must've abandoned you—it's a waste. I will make you find out if what I saw really was just an imagination of mine. Hopefully you are eager to hear that." Jihid began to mumble into himself, one of his eyes tightly fixed onto the boy's head. Abruptly releasing the grip of his hand, he dug into his stomach with his long nail.

"Eat more. Your gut uses the energy of your food to produce mana." His finger trailed upwards, stopping in between his chest halves. "Breathe deeper; always make sure to keep a calm breathing rhythm! If you don't, your mana won't flow, easy as that." 

Shooting upwards, Jihid lightly cracked his spine as he reached for the youth's forehead to tap onto his skull. "Think clearly; fixate your mind; chase this department, or whatever that is you need to take care of to fulfill it. No matter if its some royal pig... or a lady from the midst of nowhere... If your mind is gone, even with the perfect Mana amount and flow inside your body, both will go to waste without your head being there to direct it into your limbs." Jihid sternly viewed him before finding his usual resting place again. "Those are the basics, any adept should be willing to remember when fiddling with Mana." 

Rubbing his forehead, the boy took a while to reply, his gaze wandering to the floor as he burned the importance of what he just got tought into his mind. Before the old man began to speak up again, more calmly, he hissed to himself. "Unfortunately, in this age.. controlling Mana alone won't make any real difference; you'll need a sun shard if you really want to make use of it. which you'll need something to insert the stone into, since it won't absorb your mana without it. He narrowed his view before shifting to look to the sun again.

"What are those things you speak of..? Where do I get them..?" intrigued, Midas came closer, searching the man's face, longing for an answer.

"Hah.. what do I know? I cannot walk you fool! Stuck here, with my outdated knowledge, I rot inside of these walls like a prisoner. Growing weak, as no one is interested in null-abilities anymore." Sounding more hopeless, his grimey way of speaking made clear he lacked any information about the shards and the technology to use them.

"Go ask Alan. Tell him you want to search for his brother. Since you are young, go search for him; wherever he went, he most likely is still on this continent. He knows much more about Mana and these technologies from past times.."

"So his brother isn't here anymore. I've heard he sent letters to the son of the sun prophet.. Holding enough courage in himself to visit the eastern fort, warning others of the raging storm.." Midas' worry grew with every detail he knew about Alan's brother. The guarantee of him being on the same landmass as him not resting his unease, as he only had a limited amount of time, before the sand consumed the hold in the east.

Closing his eyes, the boy backtracked Jihid's conversation with him, easing himself, before returning to ask him more. "You mentioned Null-Abilities.?" 

"Back in my day, the time I served the prophet, many of my men were capable of at least one or two of these. Tiny, in comparison to this time's Earth-Abilities, unremarkable gimics eased a soldier's life slightly. From the nightstand next to him, he grabbed his clay cup to drink out of, replenishing his voice.

"Some helped with sencing movements, allowing my fellow men to locate the enemy from afar, just by holding their ear to the ground—warning us if our troop ran into an ambush. Others granted more grip onto surfaces. Those who were skilled enough were able to walk up trees... if they had enough agility to do so, that is."

"You are telling me I'm able to just learn these... That's quite remarkable for being a tiny gimic." Midas placed himself onto the dusted floor, looking up at the seated elder, his interest peaking, imagining all kinds of abilities that he may be able to master using.

"Just learn these... Boy, look at yourself. You lack in developing mana—lack in the needed skill to move it through your body—lack any understanding of how to direct it into your muscle. You will have to put in the work if you really wanted to start learning one of these." Malicously laughing at his naive remark, unpleased by his lack of patience.

Accepting the remark, Midas took another deep breather, trying to start back at the basics again, before delving deeper into the art of using Mana, acknowledging his lack of understanding, before standing up again. "If I wanted to learn the skill of listening to distant sounds by placing my ear on the ground, what exactly would I need to do to be able to learn that ability?" 

"Firstly, you'd have to produce enough Mana to be able to make your ear sensitive enough to pick up these sounds. Second, your breathing must be even enough to ensure a steady stream of Mana, which, with the help of your hopefully focused mind, finds its way into your ear. Since your body is young, instead of trying to fully maximize your tiny compartment of Mana, I suggest focusing on redirecting anything you have in you to be able to use it in a certain area." His rambling met peaked ears.

As the boy gave full attention to the rant, finally able to follow a certain plan, he bowed before him, leaving the room to head outside.

Not able to find a silent resting spot to practice his breathing, the boy wandered through the pathways of the side building, stepping around the compound walltops, listening to the groaning that escaped the holes of the central area of the fort, distancing its main building from the walls. He found himself hung over, resting on the wooden table Alma was busy writing on.

Closing his book, to finally meet the boy, Alma spoke, "You seem exhausted—is something troubleing you?" Calm, Alma gave attention to the boy's feelings, watching him get up from the table as he looked to the side to state his problem.

"I searched Jihid; he told me it would be best for me to focus on my breathing and my mind—being the only way of refining my mana well enough to be able to use Null-Abilities. Yet, now that I know that, I struggle with finding a quiet enough space to refine my breathing on—walking through the Fort since noon." His head fell back into his crossed arms, leaning back onto the table again, sounding lightly frustrated.

"Jihid.. you were able to make him help you? I understand—I can tell this matter is of great importance to you. Since I am unable to teach you any real way of using your mana, let me at least find you a place outside of the fort.. One that won't require you to wait for the giant main doors to open." Alma got up, and shortly after, Midas popped out of his stool, a slim smile appearing on his lips, as he followed Alma outside, heading down towards the end of the ground floor, on which the office lay, watching Alma eagerly.

As he opened the door, using a roughly forged key, a hollow click appeared, before howling winds escaped the opened door, grains of sand swooshing through the frame of it, until the boy quickly went through the old wooden frame, Alma shutting the door behind him, as the boy awed at the untouched desert, which lay to the side of the fort.

Being able to see the ruins from afar, he narrowed his view to counteract the stinging sunlight as well as blocking any sand kicked up by the winds from entering his eyes.

"This will do for sure," he remarked, dimly sounding over the howling winds. As he looked out into the dunes, the masked Alma approached him, the rope the key was attached to dangling in the wind as Alma held the piece of darkened metal in front of the boy.

"Since I can't gift you any of these books, take at least this key. I entrust you to use it; I only have one of it.. so keep it close to you, alright." Alma crouched down, his thick cloth hood folding slightly, as he looked up at Midas.

"Thank you; I definitely owe you much more than I'd like to admit." firmly grasping the key, tucking it into his leather trousers, he bowed slightly at Alma, watching him turn, as he waved back at him to leave through the door.

Facing the winds again, the boy took a step forward towards the ruins; the wind itself was much more pleasant to listen to than the groaning of the prisoners or the clacking of the guards boots.