Traverse The Fog

The two moved forward through the depressingly silent halls, rounding the corners deeper into the building.

"So, what is this memory room?" Cyrus asked, his attention more focused on his three new runes.

"It's mainly a storage room. But inside, here is a complicated enchanted device—magitek," Dílis said. "Just pour mana inside, and you'll be within someone's memories, abet in a minimal scope."

Shit, they CAN extract memories. Cyrus almost flinched. Should he ask why they haven't extracted his? Or should he leave it at that and hope for the best? In the end, Cyrus chose the latter.

"These memories would be extracted from by expert," Dílis continued, unaware of Cyrus' inner turmoil. "And it's pretty neat."

"Really... How is it possible to store memories?"

Dílis tilted her head, gaze tracing the ceiling. "I don't know exactly how they do it other than it is related closely to the neurological branch of the life domain. But such things are difficult in the first place."

"I can see why. One mistake could ruin someone's head."

Dílis nodded. "That's right. Not only does a mage need to understand the neurology of a person's brain, but the body also instinctively fights against such intrusions."

Silently, Cyrus bit his tongue. So, there was a chance he'd be fine.

"So, if it works, where do they put it?"

"Well, they store the memory in a life rune and store it in an apparatus called a memory shard."

"Sounds incredible," Cyrus said, voice somewhat suppressed. "Is the expert still around? Maybe I could introduce you to some of my favorite songs."

Dílis smiled. "I've never heard someone making a portable music device through memory shards, though that sounds like an amazing idea." She then sighed. "But that will have to wait. Avalorn doesn't have life domain experts who can properly extract memories. At least, not until the next round of shard inspection."

Cyrus relaxed. There was no trouble, at least for now.

After passing through a few halls, they soon stood before a heavily guarded door. One glance at Dílis' medallion to the guardsmen was more than enough for passage through.

Very... quaint. Inside, Cyrus hummed at the sight. "I didn't expect it to look like this."

Before them stood an enormous room filled with empty tables and chairs that centered the room. More importantly, there were the dozen small, wooden pedestals lined along the walls. Etched with glowing, ephemeral markings, they pulsed energy upwards to glass orbs that shimmered with green runes within.

Click

"Huh," Cyrus muttered, lowering his camera. "Crystal balls holding the memories of people." A pause. "You know, I was hoping for stuff like this in a magical world."

And it was magnificent. So long as they didn't use it on him.

Dílis confidently led the way, walking along the pedestals and reading onto clipboards hanging off them, mumbling her thoughts aloud.

"No, not this one. No... Too far in... Adept rank... No... Ah!" Smiling, she held up an orb no different than the others. "Found it." Dílis then led Cyrus to one of the chairs and sat him down, orb in his hands. "This memory contains the process of an apprentice mage crafting runes and placing them across her body."

Really now.

"What should I be expecting?" Cyrus asked, hands tightly squeezing the orb.

"It's going feel like a dream," she said, smiling. "So, don't worry, I'll be here to keep an eye on you."

Slowly, Cyrus breathed deeply. "Okay."

"When you're ready, place it on your forehead and use your mana sense to channel your mana into it." Dílis tapped her forehead. "But if it bothers you, we could wait for a bit."

"No, it's okay," Cyrus muttered, taking one last breath. "Well, here goes nothing."

Slowly, he channeled his mana through his mana sense and into the orb. Once the two connected, a bright green light flooded his vision. Then came darkness.

Soon, Cyrus blinked and found himself in a world of blurry trees and soft dirt. Curious by the sight, he attempted to look around but found himself frozen. Before he could wonder what was happening, his vision moved without input to his body.

"Oh..." A pause. "I'm a woman now."

Akin to a black canvas, it lacked distinct features except for the body shape, particularly the chest, but that did not matter. What did was how Cyrus felt 'his' mana sense swim before a brown sigil near 'his' heart.

"Is it from the earth domain?"

His musings left with no answer. At least not yet, for time seemed to accelerate around him. His attention shifted to the woman as she revealed earth crystals one after another and began absorbing them. Meanwhile, Cyrus felt something enter his... well, her thoughts, but drifting and indistinct, like a dream. Once the woman absorbed them all, she poured the excess mana into the earthen rune. Then, slowly, it divided in a similar fashion to cell division. More and more runes appeared until stopping at six.

Now came the real show.

With her mana sense, the woman moved the first newly created rune under her original, followed by another on her abdomen. She then strategically positioned them on her hips, thigh, calf, and finally, foot.

If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it.

Cyrus hummed in thought. "I see where this is going."

As if confirming his thoughts, the woman began funneling her mana from her life rune onto her origin earth rune. Onward it went, channeling through it onto the next, moving to each subsequent rune as if they were antennae.

Meanwhile, the woman raised her foot as the mana surged through her leg.

Then, she stomped.

And the sight stilled Cyrus' breath. The mana surged onto the ground, encircling and clumping a small amount of dirt into a ball. Cyrus felt a vague and distant thought or will from the woman before the rune on her foot hued with splendid, brown light. And what was her will became law. The dirt ball launched into the air, levitating before the woman as she twisted her hips into a hard kick. Fast and fierce, the clump flew forward and smashed into one of the forest's trees. And that was it. The memory restarted a second later, repeating each step meticulously as the experience seeped into Cyrus' mind and body.

"Impressive..." Cyrus muttered, watching the memory unfold repeatedly, visualizing his own method.

He could see it now: Fire runes would line across his arms, lighting up as he willed his mana as he punched forward. And finally, once the mana lit the last fire rune, a large flame burst... only to result in his hand exploding in a fiery and bloody spectacle.

"I'm sure that's how it will go on the first try," he said with a dark and morbid laugh. Amidst his chuckle, he reviewed every magical ability in his memory and frowned. This can't be all, right? Are there more advanced techniques?

Granted, he was still new to this, and his experience was limited to a handful of days, but he could not help thinking about the old books in his homeworld—stories of magical students lifting items with their wands or flying on broomsticks. Even something disgusting, like animated animals for sweets, painted a more mystical setting.

"Whatever, that series that made no sense."

After a while, the memory faded, and Cyrus found himself back in reality with Dílis standing over him, checking his condition.

"Understand now?" she asked, tapping her chest with a firm thump. "You're limited to chest bursts until you create more runes."

She then removed her coat, revealing her white dress shirt beneath a brown vest and revolver straps. Dílis went further, rolling up her sleeve and showcasing her fair and toned arm.

"Take a look. This is the end result of training."

Then, she flexed her lean bicep. And as if on command, hundreds of glowing, verdant runes etched into her skin, like tattoos or holographic scales, lined from her fingers all the way up to her shoulder.

"Amazing," Cyrus said, observing her arm closely, noticing the slight variation on each rune that crossed her skin.

But perhaps his gaze was too much as Dílis hastily rolled down her sleeve after a few seconds.

"To become an official apprentice of a single domain—" Dílis coughed, trying to maintain professionalism. "—You'll need one hundred and fifty runes."

"How many runes?!" Cyrus asked in disbelief, nearly trembling at her words.

Just by simple math, he would require four hundred and fif—no, he would need six hundred runes for all four of his laws.

"One hundred and fifty," Dílis serenely repeated. "You'll need even more for the higher tiers. Much more."

Great. Cyrus groaned and clutched at his knees, silently venting curses in his homeworld's language as his arriving dreams slowed to a snail's pace. "Damn it. Why couldn't I come with a power-up or something?!"

Despite not understanding his words, Dílis understood enough and patted his shoulder in an attempt to console him.

"Don't worry," she said, offering a soft, gentle smile. "Avalorn will provide all the runic crystals you'll ever need. And even if you can create only one rune per day, it would take just one hundred forty-nine days to become an apprentice."

Holding back his flinch from her touch, Cyrus forced his scoff down. Such were the stark contrasts between their perspectives. While Dílis found his ability to learn and manipulate his mana sense and create two law runes in a single day without prior insights incredible enough, Cyrus felt that this progress was too slow.

"Yeah, but," he asked, shifting in his seat before ultimately standing up and pacing. "Do you have any training memories with fire or light?"

As it turned out, they did not.

"Low-level enchantments decay over time," she began, tugging at the cuffs of her shirt. "Normally, we replace the memory shards with another mage's memories. And with the few pyromancers we had throughout the centuries, along with the sporadic arrival of memory enchanters, there hasn't been a need to make more."

How unfair!

Fine, fine. I just need to be patient. With his eyes closed, Cyrus breathed deeply, gathering himself. Diligently train my fire and life affinity, and then light.

He had to plan for the... years ahead.

Dílis nodded in approval. Cyrus' ability to quickly shift from panic to calm was an excellent trait.

"But don't worry, we still have life shards," she soothed, waving her hand toward the pedestals. "Why don't you try a memory shard of a mage from a different domain? Not only would it give you a fighting experience safely, but it might also inspire you."

Oh? Cyrus nodded. "Sounds great. Lead the way."

Back at the pedestals, Dílis sifted through the clipboards.

"Here it is." She pulled out another orb and showcased it to Cyrus. "This one is special. It's from a friend of mine named Blake Morgan." She handed it to him. "He's a duelist skilled in close combat."

Combat...

The orb felt light in Cyrus' hands, but his thoughts were anything but. It was like he was back in the forest, running as fast as he could as the weeping drew ever closer, along with the sounds of snapping twigs and branches. And he could still see it now. Even after weeks of tranquility—those abyssal pits for eyes, shining black rays as its face drew ever-closer, ready to—stop.

If something like that reappears... he took a deep breath. I'll... be ready...

Shoulders hunched, Cyrus gripped the glass orb tightly. Never again would he find himself useless in such a situation. Despite these words and feelings, his heart remained untainted by the idea of slaughter. Because Cyrus knew it in his heart, he was no killer and wished not to be.

Interpreting his actions as a sign of dread, Dílis placed a hand on his shoulder... again without his permission.

"Don't worry, it's not painful," she comforted. "It's just a past recording despite the vivid recording."

Brought out of his dark daze, Cyrus returned her kindness with one of his practiced smiles. "You're too kind. And I'm eager, too, but I have to ask: Will I have the chance to meet Morgan soon?"

Good. To be a social person, one must show interest in others' lives and friends.

The Half-Elf smiled. "He'd be excited, for sure. But he's currently on duty and won't return in about a week."

"Fair enough," Cyrus said, returning his gaze to the memory shard. "May I?"

He had to admit he was now excited to witness an experienced magical battle. Once Dílis approved, he sat down and the shard onto his forehead.