"The problem," Thalso began, "is your understanding of the word ’stronger.’"
He folded his arms behind his back, tone calm but firm. "I’ve been to a place, strange, dead, where there was no mana in the air. None. The people there were the weakest I’ve ever seen. And yet, to a normal human raised in a mana-rich region, those same people would be considered strong."
Rauk nodded slowly, taking that in.
"Everyone is strong, until mana changes them," Thalso continued. "Then, they become something else."
Taria frowned. "What do you mean by mana changed us? People always say mana is a gift."
"Of course it changes us," Thalso said. "It enhances us. Makes us capable of things we would never have achieved otherwise. But not everyone undergoes the change. And of those who do, most barely grow stronger than an ordinary person."
He leaned forward slightly, armored plates groaning quietly with the motion.
"Then you have the average mages and warriors. Capable. Effective. Powerful. But the true benefactors of mana... are those who can touch real power."
"Touch?" Kaedros echoed, brow raised. "What do you mean, touch true power?"
Thalso leaned back, a brief smile flickering beneath his helmet. "Exactly that. Because only the best of the best, the peak above the highest peaks ever access true power through mana. Most will never get close. They’ll wield mana, yes. But they won’t understand it. Not really."
Kaedros was silent. He didn’t completely understand yet but something in his gut told him he would. And when he did, he would rise higher than any peak.
"But," Thalso went on, "we’ve strayed. This is about the Flow."
He paced slowly in front of them again.
"What is the Flow? Simply put, it’s how you breathe. It’s the art of pulling mana into your body intentionally, to achieve mastery over your energy and expand your Soul space."
Rauk raised an eyebrow. "Soul Space? What’s that?"
Thalso stopped. "The Soul space is where your mana resides. The lowest place where you cultivate your path. It is your wellspring. The most vital point of strength for both warriors and mages."
"But... we don’t have one," Kaedros said, uncertain. "At least, not that we know of."
Kaedros knew of cores, not Soul space.
Thalso laughed, a short, rich sound. "Of course you have a Soul Space! You wouldn’t be able to wield magic or swing your weapons with such force if you didn’t. It baffles me that no one taught you this."
"I don’t think I have one," Taria said, looking down at her body flatly, as if daring it to disagree.
Kaedros was already glancing at his own torso. "Where is it, then?"
"It’s the Core," Thalso explained, "sits in the lower abdomen. That’s where the mana you breathe in goes. Or... it should go. But since you haven’t been using the Flow, you’ve been wasting it. Mana that should’ve nourished and expanded your core has been drifting away.
"The Core and the Soul space are the same in a way. The soul space is where you cultivate the Path and the Core is where you draw the power."
Kaedros scowled. ’...why make everything so complicated..?..’
Alaric touched his stomach. So did Kaedros and Taria. There was nothing special there, no warmth, no pressure, no sensation. Just... a stomach and their core.
"The Flow," Thalso continued, "is the rhythm of breath and intention. It’s how you move mana through your body. How you channel it to cast spells, power techniques, and eventually, unlock everything else."
Kaedros was stunned. There’s more than just the Core? Then....what is the so called seed of the Light of Annihilation?
"Now. Let’s begin," Thalso said, lowering himself effortlessly to the floor, metal armor folding with perfect grace.
Taria raised her wrist, showing the mana-suppressing cuff. "What about this?"
"That only prevents you from using mana outside your body," Thalso replied. "It can’t stop internal Flow."
He gestured calmly. "Sit. Be comfortable. Close your eyes. And breathe deeply."
They obeyed, adjusting their postures and drawing slow, deep breaths.
"Open your eyes," Thalso said after a moment. "And look at her."
She was still seated in her metal chair, unmoving. Eyes closed. Shoulders relaxed. Her breathing smooth and steady then deeper. With every inhale, her abdomen tightened, pulling the air low into her body. With every exhale, she let it out slowly, like she was controlling the very air around her.
"Watch her," Thalso said. "Then copy her."
It was harder than it looked.
The moment they attempted her breathing pattern, their own instincts fought back. Their bodies wanted to return to the normal, shallow rhythm they had always known. But Thalso urged them on, and slowly... they adjusted.
Their breathing deepened. Slowed. Became intentional.
"Now," Thalso said softly, "clear your minds."
Kaedros visualized nothing. A blank field of black stretched across his consciousness until it was all he knew. His body relaxed. His mind quieted. And soon, his breathing followed the rhythm automatically.
Taria imagined a spear, its black shaft gleaming in the dark, the broad blade slicing through shadows. She focused on that image alone.
Rauk held onto the thought of home. Familiar halls. It worked. It anchored him.
"Now," Thalso said, voice distant and deep. "Focus on the air as it enters your lungs. Trace it. Feel it."
"Now imagine the mana within that air. What color is it? What shape? What form does it take in your mind?"
Rauk saw it as grey mist, like the heavy fog that clung to his father’s words whenever he refused to claim him publicly. A fog that masked the truth.
Kaedros saw mana as golden threads and of black, yellow and red threads, liquid and gas at once, changing color whenever he invoked magic. Shimmering. Alive.
Taria saw gleaming gold. The same color as her father’s eyes before he disappeared from her life forever.
"Now," Thalso whispered, as if speaking from the edge of reality, "trace it. Follow that mana into your body. Watch it flow. Guide it... to your core."