“Go again,” uttered Barcus. “Feel the shift within you. Let the energy rock inside like gentle waves.”

  “Right,” I replied, my voice just as defeated. “Cause that totally made sense.”

  I laid on the ground in a skid mark of dirt. For what felt like the thousandth time, I’d failed to shift the energy to my hands, hit the dirt, tripped, and collapsed before I could attack my target.

  It had been a few days since I started training as a warrior. Unlike my time with Jessie, things advanced at an average pace, which bothered me. I was so used to being special that constant failure was starting to bother me.

  In particular, I couldn’t use a move called Rapture. It was considered one of the strongest moves in the Warring style. A person wasn’t even considered an Initiate unless they could do it once. Learning something new took time, and I was on the right pace. That’s what Barcus said. Still, it pissed me off.

  Rapture was basically a speed blitz, but the way I needed to move the mana to my legs then arms wasn’t clicking. I could maintain wind mana in my core all day without getting tired. That was easy. Moving it into my legs or arms alone was also simple. It was quickly shifting between the limbs that gave me trouble.

  Watching me fail started giving Nigel some unearned confidence. In sparring, he would thrash me pretty handily. His weight and size were big factors, and the fact that my body couldn’t keep up with the wealth of sword-fighting knowledge trapped inside my head pissed me off to no end. On top of that, Nigel could perform Rapture, and I couldn’t. Granted, he had a head start on me in training, but I couldn’t help comparing myself to him and seething. He, on the other hand, continued to act kind and nice. He even offered to help me, the nerve.

  Pouting, I stood and walked back to my dirt mark as I prepared to perform Rapture for the twentieth time that day.

  You suck. You suck. You really suck. Shift it from your feet to your hands. All it requires is timing. Run, plant, shift, swing. That’s it, you absolute idiot! Just do it! Holy shit!

  Clenching my jaw, I circulated mana in my core and altered its affinity to wind. Instantly, my entire body felt lighter.

  Slowly, I pushed that feeling down to my legs. I took a step and sprinted, unnerved by the drastic change of pace the Warring style now granted me. My target, a homemade scarecrow on a stick, mocked me as I effortlessly closed the difference between us.

  Set your foot.

  I planted my front foot into the ground.

  Now, move the feeling into your arms.

  I cut off the air mana in my legs and…slammed headfirst into the scarecrow. Both of us flopped to the ground.

  “You okay?” asked Barcus in a muted tone.

  I stopped tears from leaving me as I stood up, my legs shaky and my body caked with dirt. Wordlessly, I set up the scarecrow again and paced back to my starting position.

  I took a stance, readied my sword, lifted it, and—

  “What the fuck?!” I slammed the weapon into the dirt, picked it up, and repeatedly smacked it against the ground. “Why…can’t…I fucking…do it!” Frustration flowed out of me like blood from a cut. “I run, stop, cut off the mana, and—”

  “What do you mean you cut off the mana?” asked Barcus. He wasn’t looking to intervene in the slightest until I said those words. “It’s like a wave. You rock it into—”

  Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

  “I don’t work with that flowery bullshit!” I yelled, frustrated. “Tell me what to do step-by-step, and I’ll do it. I don’t need hand-holding or poetic language. Just tell me what to do. Shit!”

  I soon attracted a crowd. Nigel and Garreth had stopped sparring to stare at me. Bydon was glancing at me from his daily tree-chopping practice. Even other adventurer groups nearby were starting to look our way.

  Realizing what I’d done, my face glowed red, and I ducked my head. “I-I’m sorry. That was rude. I’m annoyed at myself because I suck.”

  Barcus laughed. “You don’t suck, you’re frustrated. It’s okay.” He clapped his hands together. “Let’s change tactics, alright? What works for Nigel won’t work for you. He needs examples, but you’re logical. I should have noticed that. I’ll try to be more like Jessie. Give me a sec.” Barcus paused for the longest time. He stared at me with a hand under his chin. I watched him squint, cock his head, then eventually nod. “Your core is the base. For Rapture, all you’re doing is lending mana to your legs, getting into position, returning the energy to your core, then snapping it immediately into your arms. Mages have to cut the element and shift to raw mana to control it. Warriors don’t do that. We flow the element we’re using throughout our bodies, circulating it constantly in our cores and sending it where needed. It never cuts off unless a fight is over or we’ve run out of mana.”

  I instantly knew exactly what I’d done wrong as soon as Barcus finished speaking.

  Wordlessly, I took my position in front of the scarecrow like I’d done many times before and got into a stance. Air mana flowed in my core and reached my feet. Once again, the scarecrow seemingly sneered at me as I barreled toward it.

  When I was in striking distance, I stopped. I made the air mana glide back into my core and blend into my arms as I swung. My power and momentum from my legs immediately shifted from my feet to my hands like it was attached to my mana.

  My sword effortlessly lopped off the scarecrow’s head.

  I’d completed a Rapture.

  “I was overthinking it,” I realized as I stared at the dummy’s fallen head with a blank expression. “I was treating it like a spell rather than an enhancement. Stupid.”

  “No, it’s my fault. I was teaching you like Nigel, and he couldn’t learn under Jessie. You’re the opposite. Should have realized that,” said Barcus. “Everyone’s different. Gotta focus more on the individual,” he said to himself as he limply laid back in the grass. “Congrats. You’re a Warring Initiate.”

  I tried Rapture once again, and it was perfect. Still, I felt numb after practice.

  That feeling carried me into my afternoon lessons with Jessie.

  “What’s with that expression on your face?” asked Jessie. “You look like you died.”

  “A little,” I admitted. “On the inside.”

  “I heard you finally learned how to perform Rapture. Good for you.”

  “Can you do it?”

  “Not at all. But I can counter it easily.”

  “How?”

  Jessie cast her hand to the dirt. There was a delay, and then the ground before her turned muddy.

  Copying Jessie, I coursed earth mana through my veins. Rather than push it out, my internal mana, flavored with the power of earth, latched onto the existing earth outside. It began manipulating the natural, similar energy at my whim. It felt like dunking my hand in a glass of water and feeling for the chunks of ice floating within. All I needed to do was grab the “ice” and create a connection.

  With the connection established, I manipulated the ground with my raw mana and altered it into a bog the size of four people on the ground.

  Why am I trying to learn how to use a weapon when I can do something like that? No, no, I shouldn’t put myself down. I got it on the first try when Barcus explained it right. My fault was not realizing the difference.

  “Fighting someone with speed? Get rid of the ground,” explained Jessie. “That’ll work on most practitioners of the Warring style. Unless they’re a Master.” She stared at the bog I made. “In my opinion, you’re probably one of the most gifted external mana users I’ve seen in a long time. You can always quit your sword work. Join the winning side! Be like me!”

  “It was your idea to learn both,” I replied. “Besides, I’m invested now.”

  “Are you really?”

  “Yes and no,” I admitted without much pushback. “Honestly, this is the first time I’ve struggled to learn something in my entire life. Pisses me off. Then again, once it clicked, I felt fantastic. It’s weird.”

  “Failure is a part of life. It’s good for you to taste it so young,” said Jessie. “And because of it, you narrowed down the problem, corrected it, and moved on. Next time something bad happens, you won’t scream and throw a hissy fit.”

  “Sorry…”

  “Well, it’s nice to know you have a bit of personality to you,” teased Jessie.

  “Ouch.”

  “Kidding!” Jessie paused. “Kind of. You’re young. You’re supposed to suck at stuff and make mistakes. You’ll fail more times than not. It’s the little things that give life its luster. Good food. Good people. Beautiful art. Amazing scenery.” She pointed at me. “Live a little. Try to have fun.”

  “You sound like my mother,” I grumbled.

  “Guess she’s a smart, beautiful lady.” Jessie flipped her hair dramatically. “Good for her.”

  So humble…