Julia brought the pickaxe down with a loud clang. Having drifted off in thought over the last couple of hours, Julia was surprised when the slab of rock she had been working on suddenly slid off the cliff face and crashed to the ground—briefly drowning out the quarrymen’s singing.

  Her own pick had been swinging to the beat just moments ago. The workers at the quarry sang to break up the monotony of the constant work. Or she assumed that was why.

  The quarry she was working in was situated in a crevice too small to be considered a canyon, but it was impressive nonetheless. It almost looked like a titanic sword strike had cleaved the ground in twain. Workers had been shaving bits off the ravine’s walls for many years, and it had widened considerably as a result.

  This was the Rockyknoll stone quarry—a large cleft in the ground that was now stepped with years of layered-quarrying. Julia vaguely knew that the stone was one of the town’s main exports, but she couldn’t recall what kind of stone it was—limestone, maybe? She didn’t care, honestly.

  The workers here were as tough as the rocks they mined and just as friendly. Julia found that she liked working here despite the complete lack of friendly conversation. At least here, the silence was due to hard work rather than any personal dislike

  Sure, the workers might go back to giving her sour looks the instant they set foot outside of the quarry, but here there were no individual grievances or nasty looks. There were just people working hard and, usually, some singing.

  Julia was working at the quarry because of a favor Braden had done for the owner Well, “working” wasn’t really the right way to describe it. Her Strength was up to 12 now, but it still couldn’t compare with the people who worked here for a living every day. They looked like they were made of the same rocks they broke.

  Still, that they would let an 11-year-old child hang around and break rocks that were small enough was a small source of pride for her. There were no watchers or guardians hovering over her to make sure she didn’t hurt herself. Everyone knew she was at least capable and competent enough to look after herself in a somewhat dangerous work environment.

  She was here working because of something Braden had mentioned during one of their magic lessons a few months ago. She recalled seeing him use an Earth Magic spell—called Mold Rock—to create a beautiful little earthen replica of their house.

  He did things like that when he saw her practicing hard. He probably thought he was breaking up the monotony and bringing some levity to her training, but it ended up being discouraging. The best she could do with her own version of the spell was make rocks vibrate a little. She had asked Braden how he could use the same spell to such great effect.

  “Well, the most obvious answer is practice. I’ve had many more years to use Earth Magic than you…but that’s not the whole story. I want to stress that practice is, without a doubt, a huge component of magic competency.

  However, I don’t want to do you a disservice by making you think that if you bang your head against magic long enough, it’ll eventually do exactly what you want. There’s more to it than that.

  The not-so-obvious component is understanding. If you attempt to replicate something you’ve witnessed out in nature with magic, it’s going to be difficult and mana-intensive because you likely don’t understand how it happened.

  Sure, more mana can solve many problems, but humans are, unfortunately, limited by the amount they can hold in their own bodies. Thus, if you try to create an effect without even a cursory understanding of what’s happening, your spell will either drain far more mana than necessary or fail completely when you run out.”

  “What about using the mana outside your body? Didn’t you say that mages could use that to work around their limited capacities?” Julia inquired.

  “Well, yes. To a certain extent. That’s still a topic that’s beyond you at the moment, but I will tell you some of the risks of that method now so that you’re not tempted to try it on your own without me there to guide you.

  The mana outside of your body is volatile. Now, that doesn’t particularly matter if you’re, say, trying to create a huge fireball or a lightning strike or whatever. But, if you’re trying to shape a rain-repellent sphere to set up camp under, you’re likely going to wake up soaked.

  The environmental mana is constantly trying to exert its own intent and will on the mana you shape. It can’t do this with the mana inside your body because your body itself insulates your internal mana from the external.

  Mana you’ve pushed out into the environment, though, is now separated from your will, and it only has the initial intent you bestowed upon it. Thus, when it encounters environmental mana, the original intent begins to wear away, leaving only the environmental mana’s intent.

  In the example of the rain-repellent sphere, environmental mana is constantly saying there should not be a non-physical barrier preventing rain from entering a space. And, while you’re sleeping, you’re not exerting your will and intent over the magic, so it begins wearing away.”

  “Ok, so you’re saying that…um…magical effects that you want to be executed quickly are easier to use with environmental mana because there’s less time for the natural mana in the environment to corrode the intent and will away?” Julia questioned.

  “Correct. This is why we carve runes into objects to enchant them. The runes themselves act as a physical manifestation of intent for the mana flowing through them. There is actually a less-permanent form of enchanting called conduit enchanting that can be done quickly and without runes.

  This involves just passing mana from your body into an object. Very simple. It’s useful for effects you’re only going to need for a few minutes. The downside to this technique, besides its impermanence, is the damage it can do to objects and materials. Foreign mana of any kind invading an object can destabilize its structure and cause it to break faster than normal, or even outright.

  Still, conduit enchanting is common among adventurers. Particularly among archers. It’s much cheaper and more flexible to buy simple arrows and enchant them on the fly than it is to buy arrows with prescribed enchantments carved in them. Granted, conduit enchanting effectively makes those arrows one-time-use, but it’s still dramatically cheaper than buying fully-enchanted arrows.”

  “That’s interesting, but weren’t we talking about why your spells are more effective and intricate than mine? You were also explaining why you can’t always substitute external mana for your own in spells” Julia said with slight exasperation.

  “Oh, yes. Sorry. You’ll be prone to rambling when you get to my age, too,” Braden chuckled. She rolled her eyes and motioned with her hand for him to get on with it. “Well, to summarize the second point, environmental mana is volatile and, as such, isn’t always a good option for every spell in existence. The rain example I gave was mild. There are situations where external will and intent can blow your own spell up in your face.

  Now, for the first point...Ok, so, as I said before, understanding is key. Your intent is directed by your understanding. The reason it takes so much more mana to create magic without understanding, or even why it’s possible at all, is that you’re leaving all of the ‘how’ of the magic up to the Will of the World.”

  “The Will of the World?” she wondered.

  “Yes. Well, that’s what I call it, at least. I’m not sure if different people or cultures have different names for it. Functionally, it’s the will and intent behind that environmental mana I mentioned. Its directives are what make the world work the way it does—the rules and laws that govern this reality.

  Any time you use magic, you are telling the Will of the World to make something happen that it hasn’t planned for. And, if you don’t tell it exactly how to create the effect you want, it’s going to use its own interpretation.

  Imagine trying to recreate a lightning strike but not understanding the mechanism behind it. If you just pump mana out to try and make it happen, the Will of the World might try to summon an entire thunderstorm, with your mana fueling it, to create the lightning bolt.

  That would be tremendously wasteful, obviously. But, that’s how lightning forms in nature, so that’s very likely what the Will of the World will try without more specific directions.”

  “So, the reason I’m having trouble making more than a shaky rock while you can create an exact, miniature replica of our house is…what…because you understand rocks more than I do?” Julia asked dubiously.

  “Yes, exactly. I know that’s hard to believe, but think about what you actually know about rocks. You’ll likely discover that it’s not much. And that’s not meant as an insult.

  The vast majority of people have only a passing understanding of the world around them because it’s all that’s necessary for their daily lives. You don’t really need to understand what a rock is, what it’s made of, or how it was formed to bake a really good cake, right? So, if you’re a baker, why would you try to learn?

  You, though, need to learn these things if you want to make grand workings with magic someday. This isn’t universally applicable, but the greatest piece of advice I have for you right now is this: if you want to do something with magic efficiently, first figure out how to do it without magic at all.”

  Julia snapped out of her musing and looked at the rock her pick had just sheared off the cliff face. That was what she was doing here. Trying to understand more about…rocks.

  Braden had suggested this specifically for Earth Magic because, “The Earth is all around us at almost all times. You won’t always have water available, effects with air can be obscure, and fire is destructive and dangerous when not controlled properly.

  Earth, by contrast, is abundant almost anywhere, makes it very obvious when it’s being manipulated, and is somewhat the opposite of fire—you actually have to be pretty capable before you can make it dangerous,” he’d explained

  Julia had initially been skeptical that working at a quarry all day would increase her understanding of Earth Magic, but there were benefits to it even if she learned nothing. She had started here four months ago with a Strength of 9, and it was already up to 11! Not just Strength, either—her Constitution had risen to 10, and even her Dexterity had increased to 9!

  It sounds like great progress when she reads it out like that, but if she stopped and thought about it, it made sense. When she first got here, she couldn’t even lift the pick to her chest.

  She largely had to pull it up as high as she could and let it fall on its own to hit the smallest rocks she could find. And that was with the smallest pick they had! Somehow, the pick was heavier than all the rocks she had ever found to lift in the woods.

  Now, she could lift it above her head and add a little extra pull on the downswing for some extra rock-crushing oomph. Although, she still shivered thinking about what the regular quarrymen could do with those picks.

  She felt like they could level an entire mountain in a day. Some were even using large hammers and nails to break enormous rocks straight in half. Still, she was proud of her progress. Especially since her stint in the quarry was coming to an end.

  This narrative has been purloined without the author's approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.

  Braden had imposed some strict requirements before she arrived. First, she would stop once her Strength reached 12. Apparently, there was a range where children stopped building muscle, and training past that point was counterproductive since the risk of injury increased.

  Braden was guessing 12 was that limit for Julia. Something about not having the proper hormones for muscle building until post-puberty. She thought that wasn’t very fair. It’s her body! Why wouldn’t it just build muscle if she told it to?!

  The second requirement was that she would never let anyone at the quarry rope her into doing anything for them. Not just crushing quarried stone—he even forbade things like bringing them water or towels.

  He had grumbled about “child labor,” but Julia didn’t care much what he said because that worked well for her intentions. She was there to learn about rocks, not to actually work! They weren’t paying her, so they couldn’t complain about what she did or didn’t do. Not that they would, since that would require actually speaking with her.

  She was starting to see results from just watching rocks break, despite her initial skepticism. Braden would sometimes ask her what she was thinking about while she worked that day and help her try to work through things in her mind, but he liked to let her come to her own conclusions most of the time.

  “Things tend to stick in your mind better when you discover them on your own,” he’d said.

  A week-or-so ago, she’d had a sudden epiphany: pickaxes are great for breaking up rocks! It seemed immediately obvious once the realization hit her. Obviously, they’re very good at breaking rocks, else the quarrymen wouldn’t be using them. But, the larger implication was that if she wanted to break rocks with her magic, she could do what a pickaxe does!

  Braden had praised her for that discovery.

  “That’s a wonderful observation! It’s a great first step to take with any magic. Remember what I said? Figure out how to do things without magic. How do we manipulate stone without magic? We use various tools.

  If you want to dig up the earth, use a shovel. If you want to break large rocks down to smaller ones, use a pickaxe. If you want to crush a rock into finer bits, use a hammer. Emulating existing tools is a wonderful way to immediately enhance your magic. Just spear your mana into a rock like you would with a pick and watch it crack.”

  As she was reliving the satisfaction of her discovery, the system made itself known.

  She smiled in satisfaction and made her way over to the equipment shack. She set her pickaxe down on the equipment-return table and sat in a nearby chair to catch her breath and examine her gains.

  Julia was supremely satisfied with her progress. It was well known that the system would award one’s first Class selection once all attribute values hit 10 or above. Braden claimed it was due to mental and physical maturity—typically occurring once someone went through puberty.

  The natural changes to the body and mind over the course of one’s childhood would bring those values up to the Class requisite. However, there were cases of children acquiring classes before finishing, or even entering, puberty. Braden staunchly refused to speak much about those cases, for some reason.

  Regardless, she was on her way to achieving it. She wasn’t the only one who had grown over the past year, though. She started her walk home and focused on the “Companion” section of her Status. It expanded under her attention.

  Julia winced a little when she saw the low evolution progress on Trixy’s status sheet. Braden had explained that summoned creatures persisted on their companion’s mana. In other words, Trixy didn’t need to eat to live; she took a small chunk of Julia’s natural mana regeneration to keep herself anchored to this plane.

  Trixy did, however, need to consume the mana of other monsters to increase her evolution progress and evolve. For a creature like Trixy, this would be done by feeding on them.

  There were creatures that could just…suck the mana out of a creature without killing it, but Trixy was a ferret. She had mouth parts for eating and a digestive tract, so that was how she had to absorb another creature’s mana.

  Julia just didn’t have the heart for it, though. She had found Trixy eating a little bird she had hunted and killed while Julia was meditating. Julia wasn’t sure how long she cried over the poor thing’s mangled remains before telling Trixy not to attack anything again.

  According to Braden, summoned creatures, if they weren’t intelligent enough already, used some of the mana invested into the ritual to boost their cognitive abilities. So, although Trixy wouldn’t be talking anytime soon, she could understand basic instructions.

  She had been such a good girl and hadn’t attacked anything since, but Julia knew her hesitation was holding Trixy back. But, how could she let such small, cute creatures die just to make her companion stronger? There’s no way that’s a good thing! Right? She had asked Braden about other ways to make her companion evolve.

  “Well…what you need is monster mana for Trixy to eat. Theoretically, that doesn’t mean she has to do the killing. You could just buy edible monster parts and feed them to her. However, there are a few things to consider with this method.

  First, it’s obviously going to be expensive. Monster materials are always pricier than their non-magic counterparts because of the danger inherent to acquiring them—not to mention the cost for fresh, edible monster parts. Despite being a magic animal, Trixy still can’t eat rotten meat.

  That leads to the second consideration. Mana begins dissipating from flesh at the moment of death. Certain body parts will retain mana for longer periods, but eventually they all lose it. Monster parts are essentially on a timer the instant the monster dies, so you’d be paying a premium to get parts that still have residual mana.

  But, even then, no matter what you do, the materials won’t be fresh. Even the freshest piece of monster meat you can buy will give Trixy less mana than if she killed it herself and ate it immediately.

  The third consideration, and this is something I want you to think long and hard about, is that you’d still be feeding her flesh from an animal—albeit a magical one—that was slain. In other words, you’re just using a middleman to hide the killing from yourself.

  Whether someone else kills for you or Trixy does it herself, it doesn’t change the fact that another creature will die to feed her mana. I believe that’s the main reason you’re asking, right? You don’t like the idea of her killing things?” he asked.

  This was an issue that she was still struggling with a year later. Buying monster parts, even if she could afford it, would still be contributing to ending a creature’s life. But, the monster would have already been dead since she would have, presumably, acquired the parts from a market or something. So, did she really contribute to its death? Why shouldn’t she take advantage of the parts if they’re already there and available?

  Except, isn’t that why they’re available? Because there are people like her willing to buy them? Even after a year of thinking, she couldn’t come up with an answer.

  Braden was usually annoyingly vague about things like this. He liked her to think and come up with her own answers to these kinds of questions. He would answer any question she asked honestly and even give his own, personal opinion about matters if she asked, but he ultimately wanted her to decide on what she felt was right.

  He had a whole lot of nothing helpful to say when she asked about this specific issue, as expected.

  “Hmm…well, in terms of whether it’s ethical to kill creatures to make Trixy stronger…I mean, that’s how it is in the wild already. If Trixy were born in a forest somewhere, that’s how she would be doing things right now.

  You could also argue that all of civilization is an attempt to overcome the crueler aspects of nature, though. If survival of the fittest ruled all of humanity, there would likely be no civilization. At least, not to the extent it currently exists. So, shouldn’t we try to rise above our more brutal beginnings?

  That’s a tough one. For you personally, though, I guess the question is really more about what you want to do. If you want to be a baker and live in town for your whole life, it could be considered wasteful—maybe even unethical—to have your companion hunting and killing creatures when it isn’t necessary for either her survival or yours.

  On the other hand, if you want to be an adventurer, having a strong companion to watch your back could be extremely valuable—even life-saving someday—so it would make sense to make her as strong as you can.

  My personal opinion is that there’s no right answer to this question, but you also have plenty of time to consider it and come to your own decision. Even if you wanted to be an adventurer, the guild won’t take you until you’re 18-years-old, even if you’ve had your class for years by that point. Not unless you’re bound to an existing adventurer as an apprentice, anyway. So, you’ve got plenty of time to consider it.”

  Unhelpful, as usual. So lost in consideration of this issue was she that when she bounced off something in front of her and fell on her butt, she was momentarily confused about what had happened.

  “Oi, watch where yer going!” bellowed a voice above her.