Luca DR
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Accidentally summoned 02
🕑 Added 2024-02-03 17:53:27 +0000 UTC02 – Powerlessness
Ishrin popped into existence in the middle of a forest. It was sudden,; the appearance of his body made of matter that was not there before, and his mind was yanked into it without warning or fanfare.
The first thing he felt was how weak a mana-less and magic-less tier 0 body was. The gravity pulled at him, the light stung his eyes, and there was a blindless he could not quite explain.
Right. My mana sense is gone.
He looked around, trying to get his bearings. The god, Albert, had not told him much about the place he was sending him to, but even if the forest was in the low end of Tier 1, it was still dangerous and potentially deadly.
Priority is safety, gaining some power to defend myself, and finding civilization.
Safety meant exploring the surroundings and finding a nice, secluded place so that he could move into step two. With that in mind, Ishrin began walking.
The trees were tall and verdant. A thin layer of moss made the ground soft and wet under his naked feet, and a light breeze found its way under Ishrin’s white robe – his only garment – and caressed his skin. It felt nice, and cool, and small bumps appeared on his skin for the first time in a long time as a shiver passed through his body. The call of some unknown bird echoed through the trees, and the rustle of leaves accompanied it like a melody. Taking a deep breath of fresh air in, Ishrin finally came to terms with the hand he had been given. He didn’t know how to feel about it, but his body did, and it was like countless knots and burdens had suddenly been lifted. He was free for the first time in his life, freer then he ever was, freer even then when he was the most powerful being in the world.
And he was weak. Just walking around for a few minutes had made him work up a sweat.
A small ball of white fur suddenly crossed the path in front of him.
Ishrin immediately dropped into a battle stance, his body retaining his old instincts. Unfortunately, he was tier 0 and the bunny – no matter how cute – was not. It dashed at him with speed, its movements hard to track with unaugmented eyes. Ishrin couldn’t dodge in time, and all he could do was raise a hand to defend his face from the mouth of sharp teeth that was inbound.
The bite that followed was painful. Compared to the pain of dying in the god’s realm it was nothing, but his body seemed quite conscious of the fact that any injury sustained here was much more real and, possibly, deadly. And death was permanent. No revivals.
The sudden cry of pain and Ishrin’s unconscious jerk of his hand scared the creature away, and it hopped back into the underbrush with its ears tucked to the sides of its head.
Luckily it didn’t realize how weak I was.
Ishrin breathed out. The adrenaline would take a while to flush from his system, and his heart was still pounding. Taking this event as a lucky wake up call, he redoubled his efforts to find a place to begin his rituals.
During the shift that brought him to this world, Ishrin had gained some sort of innate understanding of two very specific things: the ability to travel between universes and the ability to access some sort of pocket dimension only he could use. The word Inventory came to mind when he thought about it, and for a moment the image of his old acquaintance Mekano came to mind.
The guy really loved his videogames. What a waste of time. I wonder if he’s still alive or if the samurais finally got him.
He tried to ignore thinking about him, his body shivering slightly at the image that followed. However, Ishrin had to admit that the man had many useful abilities that might come in handy sooner rather than later.
Especially now that I’m powerless. But I can’t show weakness when I go to his world.
Fortunately for him, Ishrin had not been sent to this new world empty handed. In his inventory was a very modest stash of materials he could use, enough for exactly two rituals, which coupled with his knowledge of magic could propel him through the first few tiers of power pretty easily. Albert, the god, had not been as bad as he seemed after all. Perhaps all the killing had only been a façade?
No, the items for the second ritual are too specific. He has something in mind, and wants to see how I react. Better not think these things out loud. Wouldn’t want to get smitten to pieces again.
The thought made Ishrin shiver far more than thinking about Mekano had. There was something, some sort of mental scarring he had suffered as a consequence of all those deaths in the white space that he could not quite place. It was as if his mind had been tampered with, and after every death something had changed within him but he could not tell what it was.
I guess a road of self-discovery lies ahead. At least it will help avoid cosmic boredom, for a while.
Shaking himself out of his reverie, Ishrin reached out into the great nothingness between worlds that was his inventory. The knowledge of how to do that was instinctive, courtesy of Albert, not even needing to waste an ability slot for it. His hand effortlessly slid into a fist-sized portal and came out seconds after, carrying several items from Ishrin’s personal stash. The portal, a mass of swirling stars and galaxies on a backdrop of nothing, closed on its own with a ripple that warped the air and distorted the light like a lens as soon as the thought crossed his mind.
Ishrin carefully laid out the ingredients for the first ritual on the ground, also keeping an eye to his surroundings, careful not to take out the more valuable items until the very last moment. Then he double-checked just to be sure, and drew the lines that connected all the materials together and bound them to a central focusing mana crystal. The ritual was among the simplest he had done in centuries and the items he was about to burn to fuel it were so mundane he would not have even looked at them a mere day ago, but resources were scarce now and his power was even more so.
He was a weak, Tier 0 human with no mana whatsoever. And he only had a single crystal in his inventory that he could use, plus another that he could not use and was there for one specific reason. He only had a shot, which made this ritual’s success crucial if he wanted to unlock magic without having to gruesomely grind for years and years until his weak body could feel mana on its own.
Even breathing is difficult at Tier 0. I can’t fathom how people bear to live this way. Oh well, Tier 1 here I come.
A word of power, hollow without magic to back it up but sufficient thanks to Ishrin’s impeccable knowledge of rituals, activated the magical circle.
Tier 1 was all about forming a magical core. The foundation of all that came afterwards, for without a core one could not store magic within their body and could not begin gathering the powers of the world for their own heaven-defying purposes. Without a core a person was utterly defenseless, left at the mercy of those more powerful than them and abandoned to the currents of fate. It was with a core that a person could begin to learn magical spells to bend the world to their needs, fuel rituals and see the universe through the lens of magic, revealing what lies beneath the mundane and into the metaphysical.
Usually, forming a core took years. It required understanding, perseverance and skill. It was the first watershed that separated people from gods-in-the-making, potential from uselessness. The first time around, Ishrin took five years to even begin forming one. Longer than most of his peers. When he finally created and saturated the core, everyone had advanced to the later tiers, leaving him in the dust.
This time was different. He watched the mana crystal disintegrate with a stoic expression, his inner mind barely shifting from a hint of emotion and excitement tempered by the knowledge that his ritual setup was nothing short of perfect, and that his magical abilities were all but impeccable.
The crystal became dust, and the dust released its latent power into the air above. The items, herbs and minerals and precious ores ground to dust flared to life, the lines carved into the soft forest ground becoming like power conduits to make mundane items into magical ones – albeit temporarily. The air shimmered with magical power, becoming more concentrated, becoming more tangible and physical.
Ishrin watched attentively the process unfold.
Patience. It is out of my control now.
All he could do was wait. Wait with confidence that his ritual would work.
It took minutes. Oppressive, stressful minutes. Ishrin watched the silent forest, expecting an ambush, an attack, something going wrong. He was almost defenseless and he needed to be here to guide the last step of the process.
The forest only offered silence. Occasionally the wind rustled the leaves of the canopy, and his eyes darted to the sky to check that it indeed was only wind and not an attack from above. Time passed. Slowly.
In the end, even the ages old stoic man was sweating. But he could forgive himself for showing emotion, for even though this was a mere Tier 1 ritual he was not the same person he was back in Eternia, and being killed by a god time and time again ought to destabilize even the stablest of minds.
And his had never been the stablest of minds, not after…
I still can’t remember her face…
Even though Albert had shown her face to him, all Ishrin could recall of his wife was a blur. A blur and a rising shame coming from within. Why had I been so angry? So out of control? Perhaps it’s a good thing that the road ahead is long. I have time to change, to become better.
The natural treasures on the ground dimmed. Ishrin took a deep breath, focusing his mind on the task. This was the crucial moment. This was the watershed.
With an effort of will, he beckoned the tiny pinprick of light and magic hovering above where the magical dust had been. He called it to himself. Slowly, ever so slowly, the pinprick answered his call. It vibrated, it danced in the air like a playful but whimsical wisp. It taunted Ishrin, it played with him, it teased him.
He knew he could try to force this newborn magical core into his body. But he knew very well what that would mean. No, he could not win this with brute force, lest he damage his foundation at Tier 1 and become stuck at the lower levels, unable to grow.
Perhaps the version of himself before meeting Albert would have given in to a fit of rage. Perhaps whatever the god did to him was necessary, because Ishrin surprised even himself with the level of patience he displayed. Empathy did not come easy to him, but he tried to envision the little core as a house cat, playing a game of hide and seek. He had to entice it, to lure it in. To offer something in return. Love, care, but also the promise of power and great things.
With a pulse of light, the tiny grain of luminous sand that was the magical core shot into Ishrin’s body, settling right above his navel.
Ishrin grinned. The power within him thrummed. His body felt stronger, sturdier and more present. His senses were sharper, and his magical sight opened his eyes to the subtler details of the world. A sixth sense he had sorely missed in the few hours he had been without.
Tier 1 achieved.
