The Ability to Grow

Eyes fluttering open, Jacob noticed a shadow hanging over him. Rod smiled, his face blocking out the sun. "Wake up, idiot," he said, giving Jacob a helping hand up off the ground. "Our shift's about to start, and you're out here dozing. What have I done to deserve a partner like you?"

Jacob grinned, kicking the younger soldier in the rear with a roundhouse. Rod stumbled to the ground, his face registering betrayal. "Who's dozing on the ground now?" Jacob asked, happy that Rod had come back to himself after yesterday's blunder. When everyone in the world was an enemy, he really didn't need another.

Their shift, much more uneventful than the previous day's, devolved into staring at the pass in front of them. It was a tight fit – barely more than two wagons could pass side by side – and surrounded by sheer rock faces. The risk of an rockslide was real, but the value of the goods passing from one kingdom to the other made the trip more than worth it for many merchants. The demand for Yoru's artisan products was always high on this side of the pass, while traders coming from Delreya brought with them monster parts. From what little Jacob managed to gather, Delreya was chock full of monsters like the elusive wyrm, their hides and scales worth fortunes to manufacture legendary equipment.

From his brief studies in the fortress' "library," Jacob had learned that an adult wyrm was often closer to black than light green. The coloring worked the same for most draconic creatures. Based on the light green adorning his armor, Jacob had lucked out by only coming face-to-face with a juvenile. It often took a team of mages to take an adult down. Jacob shivered as he ran his fingers over the smooth scales.

An hour passed between each traveler. Most of that time was spent in small talk with Rod, or with silent companionship, but Jacob figured that he might as well try earth magic again. Summoning the spike off to the side, Jacob's control slipped. The spike came higher than it ever had without giving him mana exhaustion, the earthen creation coming up to his knees. His heart raced.

"Rod, Rod, take a look at this," Jacob cried excitedly like a kid on Christmas morning. "I don't even have a headache!"

"It's barely different, man. What's the big fuss?" Rod replied, eyeing the little protrusion.

"This is unimpressive compared to what the other mages can do, sure, but think about what this means! I can get stronger!" Jacob shouted, drawing the ire from the soldiers patrolling the ramparts above. Quieting down, Jacob said, "I might not be so worthless after all."

Rod smiled at his friend's enthusiasm, returning to his spot on the opposite side of the gate. Jacob knew that the accomplishment meant far less to his comrade, but that was because he left the biggest implication unsaid. He had a chance to remove the infernal collar around his neck. While the King and his men were well aware of Jacob's uncanny ability to manipulate water, wind, and earth, he had never shown any great affinity with any of them.

Their carelessness was born out of arrogance, then. He'd learn to manipulate metal as well: the first necessary step to his freedom. Not today, for further attempts to use magic would drain his already near exhausted mana. But someday, he'd gain mastery over it.

Abandoning that line of thinking until he could actually act on it, Jacob thought carefully about what had happened to him. Could the meditation have made him stronger? Was his mana pool like an organ? Would exercising it as he would his arms or legs strengthen it and expand it?

It was a worthy series of questions. He'd repeat his meditations tonight, this time hopefully not on the hard ground. His neck still felt obnoxious from the terrible sleeping position. It was curious, though, that if he was right about him getting stronger through meditation, that he had never seen any of the mages attached to the Fourth ever do anything like it. Wouldn't they want to get as strong as possible, too?

Too many variables swimming around in his poor, overworked mind, Jacob leaned against the wall to process everything. For the first time in months, something terrifyingly close to hope ignited in his chest. It banished the anger and resentment that had made themselves home in his heart for just a moment, but that moment was enough for Jacob to want for it to return. A time when he'd become truly free of all the hate that he carried on his shoulders like a cloak.

For that to happen, he needed to get some revenge on those who had wronged him. His corporal, the Fourth Infantry mages, the Binding Mage, the King. All of them would suffer for the injustices they had foisted upon him. Will posed an interesting blank space. While a special section of his anger burned towards the man, he still remembered clearly the times in Leafburrow.

Jacob couldn't wait for the suns to set, eager to try to grow his power. To get a brief taste for it, he began the meditation. As it had been the previous night, he utilized the air around him and set it on a constant orbit about him. Paying attention to it more closely than the prior night, Jacob noticed that it had a very noticeable noise to it. So, definitely not something he could do in the comfort of his cot.

When the sky finally did become full of reds and pinks, Jacob quickly excused himself and made a beeline for the library. No one entered that old room if they could avoid it, and it came with chairs: the perfect place. Taking a deep breath among the handful of books on empty bookshelves, Jacob moved the molecules in as controlled a fashion as he could. It was like exercise, the more repetitions he could do was better than a few explosive bursts. That's why he hadn't been getting noticeably stronger from his constant mana exhaustion.

That night, Jacob fell asleep with a smile on his lips and a lightly pounding head.