The spell tome for [Whisper Step] wasn’t all that thick, but lower leveled spells rarely were.

  What they contained were drawings of the human body, illustrated from the front and the side. That gave two viewpoints so as to accurately represent the path a mage’s mana needed to take.

  Every single caster had slight differences in their pathways, so not all of them were drawn in. Instead, there was a simple outline of a body, with a black dot in the center representing the Core.

  The tome was fifty-two pages, meaning there were one hundred and four drawings Rowan needed to memorize. He then needed to match up the two images in order to get the right path, and finally add them all up for the complete circuit.

  It wasn’t what most considered fun, but Rowan enjoyed it immensely.

  Sitting here, getting stronger, fiddling with his magic.

  Like a vacation, he smiled, flipping through the tome.

  Rowan went over it page by page, only stopping when he reached the last one.

  He didn’t want to read what was written there.

  Learning the path your mana needed to take was only the first part to casting a spell, and the easier one at that. What really gave it its power was the Intent imbued into it. The knowledge and comprehension you had over its effect.

  After hesitating for a moment, Rowan flipped back to the first page, going over the drawings once more.

  I’ll try to figure it out on my own. And if that doesn't work, I’ll read what it says.

  That last page was what made spell tomes truly valuable.

  It wasn’t so important for these lower leveled spells, but mages aggressively guarded the Intents of anything stronger than a Chant.

  It amounted to exposing your understanding, making it possible for someone to find a weakness in it. And that could easily lead to an early grave.

  If you rely on a spell during a fight, and your opponent unexpectedly knows how to counter it, the result usually wasn’t pleasant.

  Resting his back against the tall oak he’d spent so many hours under, Rowan went about memorizing the circuit. Reading the book from cover to cover, imagining the path his mana would need to take.

  Over, and over, and over again.

  .

  .

  .

  It took a few hours before Rowan felt like he’d memorized the tome, the circuit set firmly in his mind.

  If this were a Fire spell, his next step would have been to go to the Plataeu and find a vent. Then he’d cast as many times as he needed in order to master it.

  He couldn’t do that for Wind mana. The only source Rowan had access to was in his Core, meaning he had to be conservative. [Iron Will] helped with meditation, but he still didn’t want to waste time doing it.

  So Rowan did what everyone else did before casting. He practiced threading mana through the correct channels until he got it right.

  It still cost him a bit of mana to do that, but without an Intent, it was barely noticeable.

  The process was slow and laborious, requiring him to keep the illustrations clearly visualized in his mind. Without an Intent, there was no feedback if he was doing it correctly, so Rowan needed to stop every few seconds to retrace the path.

  [Iron Will] showed its worth once again. Giving him the ability to hold both his concentration and the drawings at the front of his thoughts. Without it, Rowan would have needed to consult the tome as he went along, drawing things out even further.

  After spending a quarter of his reserves, he finally stopped.

  Rowan stretched, feeling the ache in his back recede. He’d been at it for hours, with the sun now almost below the horizon, draping the backyard in lengthy shadows.

  He could hear what sounded like Omi and Annie bickering, while Nemir tried to refocus the conversation.

  Rowan stood up, storing the tome back into the Vault before making his way inside.

  [Whisper Step]’s circuit wasn’t all that complex, and if he had to guess, he was almost halfway done. It would take him another few hours to finish, but Rowan would do that tomorrow.

  He had a lot of mana left to spend, and a window to jump through.

  Entering the living room, the team turned to look at him.

  Annie was trying to keep a card away from Silvia, with the archer sprawled across the table, grabbing for it. “Gimme, I picked that one.”

  “It’s a bomb, Sil. Trust me, you don’t want it,” she tried to bargain, but it wasn’t working.

  Silvia yanked the card out of her hand, a wide smile appearing on her face as she read it. “Ha!” She threw her cards down onto the table. “I win!”

  Annie glared at Omi. “This is your fault. You’re the one who gave her a seven.”

  “Hey, don’t blame me because you suck,” he shrugged, taking the cards and reshuffling the deck.

  “What’s the score?” Rowan asked, leaning against the doorframe.

  “Twelve for Sil, eight for me, and a big old zero for our resident firecracker.”

  Annie’s hand whipped out, yanking the cards from his hand. “I’m shuffling this time,” she scowled. “And if you call me that again, I’m going to burn your room down.”

  Annie started dealing out another hand, glancing towards Rowan, “You done for the day?”

  “Please say no,” Silvia said, looking at him with a hopeful expression. “I haven’t seen you throw yourself out of one window today!” she pointed out. “I’ve been looking forward to it for hours.”

  Rowan snorted. “Well I’m glad you find me entertaining,” he shook his head, a smile tugging at his lips. “And no, I’m not done,” he answered. “It felt like I was really close yesterday, and I’m thinking I’ll be able to master it tonight.”

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  Annie set down the cards, arching an eyebrow. “Already?” she asked. “That’s quick, right?”

  “I mean, yeah,” he shrugged. “Like I told you, super impressive.”

  She chuckled, standing up. “You’re awfully boastful for someone who’s going to spend the next few hours face-planting into the dirt.”

  “And after those few hours, I’ll never have to worry about face-planting into anything ever again.”

  Zoe looked up from her book. “Will you require healing?” she asked, sitting in a comfy looking chair.

  He wiggled his hand. “Eh, probably not. But I’d appreciate you standing by. Just in case.”

  His Intent for [Feather Fall] wasn’t anywhere close to done, but it was enough to at least cushion his fall. He’d broken a leg the first few times he cast the spell, with Zoe thankfully being there to help with that.

  “You should go to the roof,” Silvia piped up. “If you did that, your magic would see how serious you are about learning it, and poof, it’ll happen,” she nodded to herself. “Trust me.”

  Rowan thought about answering, but decided against it. There was a fifty-fifty chance Silvia actually believed what she said, which made him want to sit down and have a lengthy conversation about why she was wrong.

  But in the end, he just shook his head. “Sure, I’ll go to the roof.”

  Being in the air longer meant getting more use out of [Feather Fall], which should translate to learning it quicker. But the roof was much higher than the second floor, and a miscast wouldn’t be pleasant.

  Rowan made his way up the stairs while the rest of the team moved out into the yard, dragging chairs behind them.

  He climbed out of the window, using his impressive Dexterity to pull himself out onto the sloped roof. Thankfully, it was angled away from the street, meaning there wouldn’t be any onlookers watching him repeatedly fling himself off of it.

  Resting his feet against the edge, he leaned back.

  Rowan ignored the jeering coming from below and focused on his Intent.

  Alright, what does [Feather Fall] actually do? he asked himself.

  I want it to slow down my descent, and blowing upwards against my feet seems like alright Intent. It’s not all that efficient, and the maneuvering is way off, but it’s an adequate base.

  There wasn’t much Rowan could do besides test it out. Glancing down, he took a deep breath, the height sending a tingling feeling up his spine.

  With Zoe there—and with his improved Vitality on top of that—the fall wouldn’t kill him, even if he messed up.

  It still took him a moment to overcome it.

  [Iron Will] flared as Rowan prepared to cast, the fog lifting, leaving behind a sharp focus.

  Kai flew overhead, cawing in support. Rowan couldn’t suppress a smile as he closed his eyes, pulling mana from his Core.

  It burst through his channels, threading its way throughout his body, following along to the drawings he’d spend hours memorizing. With [Iron Will] active, Rowan felt like he was guiding a boat down a rapid stream, the twists and turns all working to help him.

  He completed three full circuits before he finally started.

  The path felt good, now all he needed to do was imbue an Intent.

  Not hesitating, he bent his knees and forcefully pushed himself off the roof, utilizing every ounce of power his body had.

  As soon as his feet left the roof an image formed in his head.

  Focused Lift.

  Reaching the apex of his jump, mana burst forth.

  It pushed up against his feet, moving over his legs and up his body, slowing him down.

  Hair whipping back and forth, Rowan tried to stabilize himself with his arms. It worked—to an extent—but his descent was still far from graceful. Kai swooped down next to him, circling as they fell through the air.

  Halfway to the ground, Rowan lost his legs.

  His Intent slipped for barely a moment, and he was sent spinning.

  The Wind blowing against his feet didn’t stop, but with his balance disturbed, it was more of a hindrance than a boon.

  Rowan managed to move the spell manifestation to blow against his upper back, tilting him forward just enough to land on his feet

  A pained grunt escaped his lips as he impacted the ground—hard—bending his knees to absorb the impact and rolling forward.

  Silvia raised six fingers, quickly followed by Omi’s four, and finally Annie’s two.

  Rowan stood up, dusting off his coat. “Two? Really?” he asked, shaking the numbness from his legs. “Tough crowd.”

  Annie shrugged. “That roll at the end cost you a few points.”

  “I gave you an extra two for that,” Silvia added with a thumbs up.

  Rowan chuckled, shaking his head in amusement. Practicing spells with company turned out to be much more enjoyable than he’d first thought it’d be.

  “I’m going to get a ten out of you tonight. Just you wait,” he said with a confident grin, walking inside and climbing back up to the roof, ready to try again.

  .

  .

  .

  Over the next few hours, Rowan changed his approach multiple times.

  Having Wind blowing up against his feet worked, but the Intent wasn’t exactly a masterpiece.

  The problem was the cost, and the lack of control. He needed to keep his balance throughout the fall, keeping the Wind blowing directly from below. Slipping for even a heartbeat sent him into a tailspin, which didn’t always end with him landing on his feet.

  Three ones in a row made him try something different.

  His next idea had been to change the direction. Instead of having the spell blow him upwards, Rowan pointed it toward the ground. He’d hoped that if he timed it correctly, it would be enough to negate his momentum.

  Two broken legs later, he discarded that idea.

  [Feather Fall] was supposed to feel like gliding through the air. It wasn’t an empowered [Gust], or a focused [Wind Blast]. It was its own spell, and Rowan needed an Intent to match.

  He went over his thoughts, trying to verbalize them.

  It doesn't stop my descent, it only slows it. That’s the base. Stopping me fully seems like a step towards getting [Fly], and that isn’t happening anytime soon.

  To create a good Intent a mage first needed to understand his affinity. To know what it does—and more importantly, how it does it. Just eyeballing it might be enough to get results, but they would be inefficient.

  An Intent was what gave a spell power, and Rowan wanted his to be amazing.

  There’s only so much surface area if I focus just on my feet. Doing that is just going to waste most of my mana.

  Wind wanted to blow. It wanted to move. And giving it that option made his Intent that much stronger.

  Rowan sat down on the slanted roof, his heels hooked into the gutter, a thoughtful expression on his face.

  I have to guide it around me. Like falling into a tube, he realized. That way it can use my whole body to slow me down.

  It took him a few minutes to accurately imagine it, but when he was done, his Intent felt solid. Much better—and firmer—than the ones he’d tried thus far.

  The last few hours had worn away at the excitement Rowan felt from jumping, so he didn’t hesitate as he bent his knees and leaped forward.

  With the circuit memorized, Rowan’s mana moved through his channels with a familiar efficiency.

  A feeling of potential enveloped him, and as he reached the apex of his jump, he imbued his Intent.

  Guided Descent.

  Wind erupted around his body, swirling from his legs all the way up to his head. It enveloped him in a tight embrace, the rotation keeping his feet pointed firmly towards the ground.

  A giddy laugh slipped from Rowan’s lips as he glided towards the ground, the previously shady descent transformed into a controlled landing.

  His knees bent slightly as he touched down on the soft ground, a wide smile on his face.

  Cutting the flow of mana, the Wind dissipated, leaving him standing before a group of fierce judges.

  He was about to say something, but a notification cut him off.

  “Finally,” Rowan smiled, a sense of accomplishment washing over him.

  The thrill that came with mastering a new spell was a feeling he’d never get used to. And he didn’t want to either.

  Rowan still had some tweaking to do, the same with all newly learned spells. His Intent was good enough for the System to acknowledge it, but it wasn’t anywhere close to being perfected. And judging by the snags Rowan felt in the mana flow, the circuit also needed some revision.

  Magic was a never-ending pursuit, and true mastery wasn’t something that came lightly.

  Silvia pulled him away from his thoughts, raising two fingers. “Well, that was lame.”

  Rowan burst out laughing, already walking back upstairs to try again.