I woke up buzzing with energy, as if I had chugged a crate of energy drinks.

My body thrummed with a vitality I hadn't felt since my teenage years, when I tore across sports fields without a care.

I raised my thumb to gauge the time by the Sun's position, but then I caught myself—this wasn't my fucking sun at all.
The heat felt close to Earth's seasons, yet with two moons hanging in an alien sky, who knew what time or distance truly meant here? It could have been an hour, maybe two.

Wrong information is worse than none.

It didn't matter in the end. I had to move and figure out magic, or I would end up a dead man.

I stared at Maia's body, where her grey eyes had gone dull and lifeless.
I tried to conjure fire the way she used to for our campfires, focusing so hard that my skull pounded with the effort. Nothing sparked, not even a flicker.

"Of course it's not that simple," I muttered and kicked the dirt in frustration.

I would have preferred to bury her, but time was of the essence, so I closed my heart to the idea.

I picked a direction—hoping it led toward our old cave—and I ran.

My body felt like it could outpace a goddamn superhero, nothing like the dying wreck I had been just the night before.

Earth's police used dogs, and I doubt Arthian wouldn't have something similar.

I needed a river, mud, anything to throw off potential noses.
My old Labrador could smell me or my parents coming home from half an hour away, but rivers and rain always messed with its senses.

There had to be a river nearby, and I found one easily—and with it, my way back.

Its icy water bit into my skin as I jumped in. I scrubbed myself fast, then slathered thick, slimy mud from the bank over every inch of my body, coating myself like a paranoid lunatic. 

I tore off my trouser legs and left the unwashed scraps to float downstream—a little gift for pursuers able to smell me.

It is time to haul my ass back upstream.

An hour later, I stumbled into the cave, gasping for breath while my legs screamed in protest.
Running that long would have been a miracle two years ago, but I had made it.

The last time, it had taken three hours to walk the distance; running cut it to one. 

I need water, food, and a plan.

While I smoked meat for rations, I had time to think.

Maia's mana core—now mine, smooth and pearl-like when I swallowed it—sat heavy in my gut, but it did jack shit. 

I couldn't produce fire, sparks, anything at all.

A local of Arthia will know something...

I don't think testing my luck against a soldier is a good idea.

That leaves me with only one solution.

I had seen their camp. 

While I crouched behind those bushes, I noticed regular folks dropping off supplies and entering tents—fruit, starches, no armor, just a mule and cart.

I would snatch one of them and make him talk.

I felt no apologies for the plan—my mind was set.

Like Daedalus fashioning wings from scraps of wax and feathers, I worked with what I had.

He had the barest materials and desperate ingenuity; I had mud, sticks, rocks, and a video-game obsession. It wasn't exactly equal, but I would make it work.

My half-finished bow was a lifesaver for hunting.

Before I got sick, I had started it, inspired by some hillbilly video I binged instead of sleeping.
The guy built a bow from green wood in thirty minutes, no curing, and he swore it worked.
I had watched like my life depended on it—and it turned out, it did.
I had cut and curved the wood, then tied it to the cave wall to dry.
The problem was, I had no decent arrows, and my aim was trash.

Against armor, the bow was useless—I would need a longbow with a 120-pound draw and special arrows to combat that, not this rabbit-hunting toy.

The courier was unarmored, though. If I could aim true, it might work.

Nah, it's too RNG.

I would go old-school instead, back to my Paul Street Boys days.

I twisted plant fibers into cord—tough, stringy stuff from the riverbank—and I cut a pouch from rabbit leather I had tanned for snares. It became a sling.

As a kid, I loved slinging stones at bottles, buckets, even watermelons, pretending I was some badass shepherd. 

I got good enough, but accidents still happened.

I smashed Mom's window in a snowstorm once, which led to her rage, and another time I accidentally broke Dad's windshield.

That was the end of my slinging days—Mom's fury was scarier than any alien soldier.

Channeling my inner child is my best shot.

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

A week passed with me crafting tools and slinging stones, swearing louder than Italians arguing over pineapple on pizza whenever I missed.

I practiced at forty meters like the pros, and I occasionally hit something.

By day seven, I could dent an oak's bark with a half-fist-sized river stone—not sharpshooter precision, but enough to crack a skull if luck was on my side.

I still made no progress with magic.
I wanted to train longer and maybe figure it out, but waiting meant risking those soldiers finding me.

Staying in the cave after Maia died was taxing my sanity; I kept seeing her everywhere.

An early morning one of those images stood near the fire, preparing that disgusting stew, so I approached it.

Princess, you said I'm a genius. 

Let's see if my brain beats magic. 

Please watch over me.

I left. 

I had a mission to complete.

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

I crouched by the trees near their camp, with my sling tucked in my belt and a pile of smooth stones in my pocket.

My heart pounded like a war drum.

The courier's wagon would hopefully roll through soon—unarmored, for easy pickings.
I would knock him out, drag him off, and get answers.

Killing wasn't the plan, but Maia's face—begging for death—burned away any mercy. 

They are the enemy.

To kill monsters, you have to become one.

I waited for hours, and finally the cart rumbled up, with the mule clopping along.

I loaded a stone, stepped out from the trees thirty meters away to improve my chances, and spun the sling; the leather pouch hummed while the cords bit into my fingers.
I aimed for the courier's chest, but my rusty release was shit.

He froze—maybe he heard the sling's whirl—but the stone already veered and cracked the mule's temple instead.

The beast staggered, its eyes rolling back, and it collapsed with sides heaving but out cold.

Shit, that wasn't the plan, but it isn't bad. 

Luck is on my side.

The courier quickly realized the danger and bolted, sprinting away.

You're delusional. 

The camp is too far. 

You're mine!

I grabbed another stone and aimed for his legs, but he was too far—forty meters, maybe more.
I overshot; the rock slammed into his backside, right in the meat of his hip.
He dropped, howling, and clutched it like I had busted something.

He was bruised, sure, but he was still crawling, so I hadn't finished the job.
I sprinted forward with my spear in hand.

He saw me clearly now; I was no longer a shadow in the woods.
Fear in his eyes turned to determination.

Here comes the cornered rat.

He raised his hands, and a bucket's worth of water formed into a sphere, spinning and shrinking before it fired at me.

Jackpot—he's a mage.

I tried parrying, but the water bullet shattered my spear's rock blade like it was rotten wood, with shards flying and some digging into my arm.

I was too pissed to care; adrenaline drowned the pain.

I saw him forming another and shooting it at me.
I dodged it easily, reading its speed now, and closed the gap.

He pulled a knife from his belt.

You're not confident in your magic, eh?

He lunged to stab me, but I smashed his arm with the club that hung from my belt, using my reach to snap it.

He screamed in pain.

Yes, scream. 

That's nothing compared to what Maia went through.

I kept battering him, then stomped his head with my heel that knocked him out.
I tied his other hand and legs, gagged him with leaves, and secured it tight.

Okay, now how do I take him to the cave? 

I guess I'll just build a sled with leaves.

I quickly built one, then dragged him toward the cave.
It was a rough ride, sure to leave cuts all over him, but I didn't care.

Fuck him. 

Maybe the stinging wounds will loosen his tongue.

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

We were at the cave. 

My arm was a mess, with stone pieces buried deep.

When the pain dulled, I woke the bastard by splashing water on his face and yanked the gag so he could talk.

He looked confused but quickly realized he was bound, and he locked his sight on me.

"First things first, your name."

He was dazed, bruised, bloodied, and covered in small cuts.

I don't give a shit.

"My name's Anim. Please don't hurt me..."

Good, he's scared of pain.

"Call me Pog, Pog Poggers. Let me explain a bit. 
I'm not a bandit wanting to steal your cargo.
My motives are much more personal.
Your people killed someone I love.
I could make you beg for death, and I'm ready to, but teach me magic, and I'll heal you—maybe even let you go."

He hesitated.
"You can't heal me. You don't know magic, and even if I taught you and you're a light user, you wouldn't master healing fast enough."

Why even bargain at this point? 

Are you moronic?

"You're not dumb, Anim. But not smart either. 
Do you want to bet on it? It's true, I can't heal, but I can make you scream."
I grabbed his dagger, heated it in the fire, and pressed it to his bound elbow.

"AAAAAH! STOP! I'M SORRY! I'LL HELP, STOP!"

I pulled it off.
"That's more like it. Tell me about mana. Everything.
You know what happens if your info's garbage, right?"
I spun the knife, and his eyes fixated on it, getting the hint.

"YES! Let me think... Mana needs a mana core.
Animals can't use it, but magic beasts can cast spells.
People are born with different affinities; the core's color changes based on that.
You can have multiple affinities.
The more you use an element, the easier it gets.
Mana capacity can grow, but it sets in your thirties.
However, elements get less expensive to use with practice.
If you overdo it, you pass out.
That's all I know."

For fuck's sake, at least breathe a little between sentences.

"Good. How do I check my affinity?"

He lowered his gaze.
"Fill something with water, float a leaf, pour mana in.
If the leaf withers, you've got fire. If it swells, water. If it flies, wind.
If it dips to the bottom, earth."

"What about light or void?"

"The leaf's veins glow for light, and void doesn't have a test.
It's not really an element but more like an anomaly."

Interesting...

"Alright, let's do it."
I grabbed a cup.

At the beginning, we didn't have any cups, only bowls... I carved these for Maia.

"Anim, fill it with your magic," I ordered.

He held it in his hands and obeyed.

He's clearly able to use magic even bound, but with only one working arm, he can't break free without fucking himself up. 

I can ease up a bit.

I dropped a leaf in and then poured my mana into the water.

Nothing happened.

"Anim, why's nothing happening? Are you lying to me?" I raised the knife.

His eyes widened.
"NO! YOU'VE GOT ZERO AFFINITIES! OR YOU'RE A VOID USER, EITHER ONE!"

Weird. 

Maia had four elements, everything but earth, divine and void, so I should exclude the latter. 

I ate her core—shouldn't I have them too? 

Unless...

"Anim, what's a white mana core mean?"

His eyebrows twitched.
"I don't know for sure. It varies.
White usually means four elements mixed, but it doesn't tell you which ones."

This isn't working.

"Fine. I'll level with you, Anim, to get better answers.
I'm not from this world."

He blinked, confused.
"From another plane?"

Planes? 

This ain't D&D, buddy.

"No, a world with no magic.
I didn't have a mana core before."

His eyes widened with pure terror.
"Then you're a murderer! There is no other way to get one!"

Rage flared up.

Murderer? 

I didn't murder Maia—that was mercy, and her core was a gift to me.

This guy's part of the system that broke her.

Before I knew it, my knife sank into his calf.

He screamed in pain.
"SORRY, STOP!"

I sighed.
"Listen, Anim, I didn't murder anyone. It was a gift from a dying angel.
Tell me what went wrong, or this knife's going in your other calf."

"NO! I DON'T KNOW, BUT MY GUESS IS, SINCE YOU HAD NO CORE, IT BUILT YOUR MANA CIRCUIT!"

Huh? Intriguing.

"Anim, what happens if you eat more than one core?"

He stared like I had pissed on a holy relic.

Then he swallowed.
"You'd die. No one does it for a reason."

"Last questions, make 'em count. How long does it take someone to use magic from scratch?"

He hummed.
"No one's started from zero since forever, so I don't know.
For basic stuff, maybe three days.
Fighting with it, a month. Mastering it? Years.
My water bullet took two years, and you still beat me without magic."

Huh? 

Maybe you're just dogshit.

"How long till your camp finds us, since I dragged you here?"

He looked away.
"No clue. Two days if they're slow, six hours if they're on it."

"How do I use water, since you're a water mage?"

He faced me once again.
"Picture water flowing from your stomach to your limbs, then push it out."

I had tried fire all wrong. 

Maybe this will work.

"Alright, Anim, I'm cutting you loose. Tell your buddies to leave me alone."

"Yes, thank you! You have my word!" his eyes lit up with hope.

I approached him from behind, faking a reach for his ropes, then slit his throat.
A river of blood gushed out; he could only turn and stare at me with hatred in his eyes.

"Sorry, Anim, the hunted became the hunter.
I can't risk you sharing intel about me with your boyfriends.
Goodbye."

His light faded rapidly, fixated on me like I was the devil.

I didn't care. 

To me, this just meant one enemy was down, with countless others waiting in line.

I hate this part.

I recovered his blue mana core, and ate it.

Why risk death defying the Gods' laws? 

I had no magic, and if Maia's core only built my mana circuit, I was useless against any soldier.
I had to take the gamble. Maybe her artifact or my otherworlder status broke their bullshit rules.

A decade playing games taught me that you have to take risks to win from behind.

Pain ripped through me, like claws tearing my insides, worse than with Maia's core.

I blacked out, and oblivion swallowed me whole.

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

I woke soon after, with the ache still heavy and lingering.

I'm still alive.

Am I special because I came from another world? Is it the artifact Maia gave me?

It doesn't matter—only whether it works.

I held out my hand and pictured a river flowing from my gut like Anim said.
A trickle came, like a dying faucet. 

I stopped it at will.

It was weak, but it was something.

It'll do.

My arm was rotting, with blood seeping and wounds stinking.

If they used dogs, they would sniff me out from a mile away. 

I had hoped magic would heal it, but this world wasn't that generous.

I heated Anim's dagger in the fire and pressed it on my wound.

It hurt like hell, but it stopped the bleeding for the moment.

Soldiers would find me if I stayed, so
I grabbed my gear, anything useful, and took off.

I turned, looking at the cave for one last time.

What was once a place filled with laughter and conversations was now a silent grave with nothing but regret. 

I turned my back on it and left, but I would never forget it.

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

I have a plan.

At the river where I had seen the guards, I checked my rabbit traps—holes on the animal trail, covered with leaves, a rock propped by a stick tied to a smaller rock.
An animal steps through, the small rock falls, the big rock seals the hole, and it traps the animal.
It was cruel, sure, but cheap and effective.

I came up with it because Maia was happy munching berries and mushrooms like a vegetarian, but I craved meat.

Two bunnies were near death; one was gone.
I hadn't checked since this whole mess—dying of thirst screws your schedule. 

I skinned the dead one, just in case.
And I started to prepare the dog trap.

The plan was simple: I would bathe, coat myself in mud, tie Maia's clothes found in the cave with my scent to the live rabbits, nurse them with water, wash them to dilute their smell, then let them run.

Dogs would chase them while I crossed the river, covering my tracks.

Upstream, I would scatter the dead rabbit's meat—dogs can't resist rotting flesh, so they would go for it and buy me time.

I did it all, washed my hands, crossed the river again, and kept moving upstream.

Other animals might nab the meat, but Maia said this forest had very few carnivores.
Humans took predators seriously, wiping them out near settlements.

Those red moon monsters?
They weren't animals.
They were mana beasts, after all.

They hunted out of hate, tied to that devil-cage moon, half-real, half-fantasy.
If you killed one, it vanished, leaving no meat, no fur, no loot.

Those were rare outside the quarantine zone, but when the red moon hung close, they spawned like roaches, making this world a dangerous place.

Maia knew only the basics and said they were a mystery in this world.
They only knew the monsters were tied to Adam and the red moon.

Fine by me—I would figure them out the Galileo way: trial and error, like the ancients.

The more I walked and time passed, the more I teetered on madness.
I talked to myself to fill the void.

Back on Earth, I was a loner, but after two years with her, the silence was unbearable.
To combat this, I sometimes spoke my thoughts aloud just to keep my head straight.

I hiked for two days, still running, sipping conjured water and chewing dried meat.
I was out of food and out of breath—but not water, thanks to that trickle of magic.

I didn't know I could run this long or far.
It was surely impossible; it had to be the mana circuit development boosting me—adrenaline wouldn't last two days.

Only my love for Maia would burn forever, but that wasn't what kept my legs moving.

I finally felt some relief—no one seemed to be on my tail.
The rabbit trick and river crossing had worked.
I had walked backward in mud to lay false trails, just in case.

Rain fell, freezing my bones, but it washed away my scent—a cold, wet blessing.
I needed warmth, a camp, and time to train.

After over two years here, I had adapted to their gentler seasons; now I felt hot in their mild summers, meaning I needed to build a shelter.

At least, that is what I thought... fate had something else in store for me.