Few Emission Tricks and Magic Traits

Rion gasped, bowed his knees, and concentrated on the force building in the soles of his feet. Just as Leon had instructed him compress, brace, burst.

"Don't overthink it," Leon called from across the ring, lounging against a low pillar, practice sword balanced on his shoulder. "You overthink it, you eat dirt."

"I'm not overthinking," Rion muttered.

He released the energy.

There was a snap, then lift, then chaos. He launched sideways and upward all at once, like a firework that didn't know which way was up. For a second, he soared. His heart almost beat fast enough to catch up with the moment.

Then the world flipped, the sky spun and the stone rose to meet him with a grating kiss.

He hit hard. The breath left him in a grunt, his back skidding along the sun heated courtyard floor. His sword bounced once, then clattered away.

He groaned.

Leon wandered over and peered down at him. "Beautiful takeoff, but the landing needs work though."

Rion didn't answer. Mostly because he couldn't.

They reset after he'd coughed out a lung and retrieved his sword.

Leon paced lazily. "Alright, since you've clearly mastered the art of flying face first into stone, how about something flashier?"

Rion eyed him warily. "Stylish hurts."

"Only when you're bad at it." Leon flipped his blade once, caught it, and held it flat in front of him. "Let me show you a neat little trick. Ever seen someone swing a blade, and it hits from farther than it should?"

"I thought that was just reach."

Leon shook his head. "Nope. Emission shaping. You push your magic out through the weapon along the blade's edge and form a sheath of force. It's invisible, but real. Gives you an edge that doesn't exist, until it does."

Rion squinted. "So... like an extended blade?"

"Exactly, you don't need much. An inch or Two plus time it right, its just enough to screw with someone's guard. Block the wrong spot, and oops too late."

He slashed lazily at the air. "Some mages can push it ten feet. Those people are show offs and liars."

Rion looked at his dull training sword. "And I'm just supposed to do that?"

"You'll try, worst case nothing happens or you explode. Probably just the first one."

The next hour was sweat and failure.

Rion focused and breathed in and out. Felt the faint hum in his arms, the static edge that came when he really concentrated. He could feel the magic flowing down to his sword and sticking to it like a second skin.

At first there's nothing.

Then, a flicker, a tug, and finally a shimmer like heat haze just past the tip of the blade.

He swung.

The wooden sword passed a clear two inches from Leon's shoulder and still struck. Not hard, but enough to make Leon's eyes widen and his body jerk.

"Holy hell," Leon said, rubbing his collarbone. "You actually did it."

"I didn't feel anything," Rion muttered, blinking at his sword.

Leon grinned. "That's the point, it's invisible, you only feel it when it works."

He clapped his hands. "Alright, last lesson of the day. The scary one."

Rion groaned. "There's a scary one?"

"There's always a scary one." Leon pointed to the center of his chest. "You've got your passive emission field up all the time, right now. Like armor, keeps your body in equilibrium, cushions blows, dulls temperature. It's why your boots don't get wet, why your grip doesn't blister."

"Right."

"But you can release that energy. All at once. Flood it outward and spread it like a fog, but heavy. A wall of pressure, that's what people call crushing aura."

Rion tilted his head. "Why would you do that?"

"Because it terrifies people. Makes them flinch, panic, hesitate. It's like making the air heavier in a room. Feels wrong. Wrong enough that someone weaker might fold on instinct."

He flexed his hands outward.

Suddenly, pressure.

The air changed. Thickened. Rion's lungs struggled to draw a full breath. His knees twitched. The weight wasn't physical, not really, but his body didn't care. It was like gravity had noticed him for the first time.

Then it vanished.

Rion stumbled back a step, breathing hard. "That was awful."

Leon was grinning like a maniac. "Good, right? Works best in close quarters. But it drops your armor. You disperse your field, it can't protect you anymore. So time it smart."

"That's... a terrible trade."

"Yup. But sometimes terrible is useful."

Rion steadied himself. His fingers still tingled from the lingering hum of emission in his hands. He reached down. Focused and pushing outward.

The energy pulsed through him again, this time toward his weapon. He tried to shape it like before. Make it longer and sharper. Like an extension of his will. The invisible blade hummed past the wood, out into the air.

Then, without pausing, he reversed it.

He spread his emission, wild, broad, outward on every direction like ripping off a second skin and throwing it to the wind.

Everything dropped.

His body felt naked. Exposed. His balance wavered. But Leon winced.

"Well now," Leon said, blinking rapidly. "That's not bad. Little reckless, but you're learning."

Rion breathed, slow and even, fighting the urge to collapse.

His bones hummed again, low and deep.

That pressure, that pull, it brought back to him what had come before all those things had turned black, before all those things had become deformed, before all those things became ash.

He grinded his teeth.

"I want to learn that", he said softly.

Leon didn't ask why.

He just nodded, and raised his sword.

"Again."

They charged.

Swords clashed in sunlight.

By the time they stopped the sun was low down. Standing in the stone courtyard, their shadows lay long on the stones and loose cut blades of their weapons hung from their sloppily held arms. Sweat lay across Rions shirt. He felt the legs buzzing with fatigue and his hands were sore. His eyes nevertheless were still flicking with focus.

Leon sprawled across a low stone bench, fanning himself with a broken wooden shield like a peasant fanning grain.

Rion sat cross legged on the ground, dragging in air. He turned toward Leon.

"How do you do fire?"

Leon cracked an eye open. "Fire?"

"Yeah," Rion said. "Magic, like not tricks with swords or aura pressure. But Real blazing fire."

Leon laughed and rested on one arm. "Jump in ahead ain't we?"

Rion said, "maybe, but I've seen it and I know it can be done."

Leon nodded. "Alright. Fire, then it's not about yelling a word and pointing your hand, you need traits."

Rion frowned. "Traits?"

Leon held up a hand, ticking them off with his fingers. "Hot, burn, consume, flicker, flight, smoke, pain, everything. You want to use fire? You need to hold the traits that make fire what it is."

Rion blinked slowly. "So... you have to collect pieces of it?"

"Pretty much, its a little like mixing paint. You collect all of the properties of fire, what it is, what it feels like, what it does, and when you have enough, you blend it inside your core. Then you shape it with your intent and push it through your emission." He made an open handed gesture, like tossing something forward. "Boom, fire."

"That sounds... complicated."

Leon barked a laugh. "It is. You think every idiot with a sword gets to fling hundreds of different spell? No, no, most of us can only use few of it and try get creative with emission tricks and few spell we can use."

Rion leaned forward, curious. "So how do you get those traits? Like where do you find them?"

"Magic gems," Leon said simply. "They're everywhere, though expensive. Condensed mana, stored in crystal. Each one holds a trait or several. You find a gem with the right trait, break it, absorb it. Boom, it's yours."

"And that's the only way?" Rion asked.

Leon was hesitating, rubbing the back of his neck. "Well… I have heard a stories or rather rumors. About Arcane mages. Supposedly they can... learn traits. Not take them from gems, just experience something, and it sticks. Like they get burned bad enough and suddenly bam they know 'burn.' But that might just be old legend. I've never met one."

Rion was quiet for a long moment.

Then he said, "I'm one."

Leon squinted at him. "You're what?"

"An Arcane."

Leon stared.

Rion didn't laugh. Didn't smile. His tone was flat, steady.

"I don't need gems. Sometimes I feel something, and it just... stays with me. I can still remember the heat and the way it hurt."

Leon gave him a long look. Then snorted. "You know, you almost had me."

"I'm not joking," Rion said, still calm.

Leon stood up, stretched his back, and pointed his sword lazily at Rion. "You're telling me you're an Arcane, just like that? The rarest kind of mage, where there are only twenty two of them for every generation, and somehow you are one of it? Some emotionally repressed ghost boy with trauma and bad table manners?"

"I don't like meat," Rion said.

"Yeah, that's the least of your weirdness." Leon shook his head. "Alright, Arcane boy. Show me something, light your fingers on fire or summon a dragon or whatever."

"I don't know how yet."

"Of course you don't."

Leon slung the sword across his shoulder again. "Well, whether you are or not, it doesn't change the fact that you've got some talent and trouble written all over your face."

Rion rose to his feet, brushing dust from his knees.

"I want to try."

Leon glanced at him sideways.

"Then keep trying. Maybe one day you get to shoot a proper fireball, Arcane boy."