Telmar stood at the window of the admin tower, looking down at the crowd in Echlion below. He sighed, and then looked at the hulking frame beside him. Burizan, still the shape of a hog, with sweat forming on his patched tunic, looked up at him in dread.
"I need you to go to Duskwatch," Telmar stated, handing him sealed parchment. "Talk to the smiths, to find out about this Skyshard sword. Where is it forged? Who makes it? Discreetly."
Burizan paled with fright, "Duskwatch? Elves, don't scare me, but NOSEY smiths do."
"Then walk fast so you won't encounter either," Telmar muttered to him handing over a pouch of coins, "Go."
As Burizan ambled into the corridor and away, still muttering threats, Telmar turned back toward the inner corridor.
___
The large map in Luenor's office provided the light. The map revealed Echlion and the surrounding Frostwood Forest. Colored pins marked trade routes, underworld contacts, and depot storage.
Luenor had his arms crossed while tracing the border routes. When Hunter arrived, the boy offered a tired nod while brushing messy black lines out of his face.
"Just checking our territory?" Hunter asked as he settled into the chair across from Luenor's desk.
"Expanding it," Luenor clarified. "We need to keep our... partners from being too bold."
Hunter paused just a moment, and then added, "You've been skipping training."
Luenor didn't disagree. "Running an empire takes a lot of focus."
Hunter leaned in. "And surviving one takes strength."
That seemed to catch Luenor's attention. Hunter continued, "The first batch of mana cores from Duskwatch is here. Want to check out what they can do?"
Luenor grinned. "It's about time."
A forest glade that lay behind the training arena had been completely cleared out. No patrols. No people watching our every move. Luenor, Hunter, and some crates of glowing blue mana cores. Each core pulsed with a life of its own, and their energy empowered everything around them.
Luenor sat cross-legged in the moss behind the crates, the biggest mana core resting in his palms. He pushed it against his chest.
"Steady your breath," Hunter directed. "Control your flow; don't force it."
A surge of mana visited him. It was like pure lightning tracing the veins of his body; it was ancient. He began to tremble.
"It's... too much," he managed through gritted teeth.
"Release when it builds," Hunter said. "Focus."
But the power of the core wasn't flowing. It was overwhelming, and feeling defined all the differences between a knight's mana heart, which received excess energy but could hold something like a reservoir. His own body could take more than most, but it leaked it fast. And without reservoir, he would rupture every muscle and vein in his body long before that would happen.
"Steady!" yelled Hunter as Luenor shook. Luenor steamed, and cracks of light danced around his fingers, with a line of blood running down from his nose.
Hunter jumped forward and slapped the core from Luenor's chest.
The energy disbursed into the air; like fog in the sun at dawn.
Luenor slumped back, panting heavily. Sweat collected beneath him as he wheezed: "I need... more power."
Hunter crouched down beside him. "You have the capacity to absorb mana, sure. But then it comes to using it. Without a heart, you are burning fuel through a straw. It will never be enough."
Luenor wiped some blood off of his mouth. "Then I'll make it enough."
"Don't be a fool."
But Luenor did not hear him. As he sat back up, still panting, his eyes narrowed.
There was mana everywhere.
He looked around. The air shimmered slightly with invisible threads, mana suspended free of its usual form like mist. People use a core to store it. But what if I... don't store it at all?
"Hunter," he muttered. "What if my body does not just store mana, but channels it?"
Hunter frowned. "Channels it?"
Luenor nodded slowly. His voice became stronger. "What if I became a channel, like a pipe. I don't keep the mana- I let it flow. I pull it from the air, rather than keeping it inside me."
Hunter blinked at him. "That is- impossible."
"Not if I expand the paths," Luenor whispered. "Not the bucket. The flow."
He stood unsteadily, facing the trees. The idea was insane—but it made sense. His body rejected storing—but not flow. If he could expand the paths of 'flow' inside his muscles, veins, nerves—perhaps he could take from the environment indefinitely. Like nature feeds a waterfall—not a bucket, but a river.
Hunter put a hand on his shoulder. "That would take years to achieve."
"Then I better start now," Luenor said, determination bright in his eyes.
He picked up another core—but didn't put it on his chest this time.
Instead, he held it loosely in his palm, and now he focused on the air—the ambient mana, the fog beyond sight. He reached out not with his hands, but with will.
And, only pure grain storage, he felt a tug.
An hour passed. Then two.
He was soaked through with sweat. The air shimmered, almost like it was animated with his call. The core dimmed. Not because he drained it—but because the mana around him was growing thicker.
He was learning to change direction—molding mana like twisting wind in a canyon, not shoving water into ajar.
Finally, his body begged for release. Luenor pushed air through his mouth, and with it came a hurl of mana that sprung into space in miniature ripples, like disturbed water as a stone skips across the surface.
He dropped the core and collapsed to his knees.
Hunter helped him up. "You okay?"
"Better than I've ever been," Luenor panted, grinning. "I think... I have something."
Hunter chuckled. "You and your crazy ideas."
But even he had to concede—there was something different about the boy. His aura rough started to ripple. Not wildly. Just... fluid.
A stream in what was once a dry canyon.
Back at the manor, Rhea sat on the balcony and watched the procession of carts filled with food leave the gates of Echlion. Her expression was distant and unreadable.
"What are you trying to become, my son?" she whispered.
Below, the village was a buzz of activity. Former slaves and liberated miners learned to co-exist with elves, traders, and warriors. The empire Luenor was raising was no longer an illusion. It was real, and it was expanding.