Eight: A LitRPG Novel of Magical Survival

First thing, I checked my full Status.

My path was now displayed, along with the level and the amount of silverlight I’d gathered, which was 105. I didn’t see any mention about how much silverlight was required to reach Level 2 though.

There was also a new soul mark, Mana Door, which I appeared to have gained as a result of the spirit journey. The otter had kept her word and given me access to magic!

I’d gained a free attribute point, and all the increases to my attributes were finalized. That was probably a bonus benefit from leveling.

My capacity for mana increased by one, and my guess was that it was my Wisdom hitting rank 15 that was responsible.

There was a new talent, Uncanny Tracker, which sounded cool. I couldn’t wait to find out what it did.

I lost Meliune’s Blessing, and the way the notification was worded, it sounded like everyone received it until they gained their first level.

Hmm… it was likely that people without paths didn’t have the attributes and skills to deal with the creatures roaming this world, and the blessing was meant to help them survive those dangerous situations. For me, though, I was deeply uncomfortable with my thoughts and feelings being muffled. Whatever good the blessing was supposed to do, I was glad to be rid of it.

Moving on, I noticed that I’d received a handful of new skills. I’d expected to acquire Spear Arts, Stealth, Nature Magic and Hydromancy, because of my path and my bargain with the otter, but Spirit Magic was a surprise. It must’ve been the spirit journey that triggered it.

Or was it my grandmother’s teachings? Once I hit middle school, I’d scoffed at her stories. All I’d wanted was to fit in, and the stories made me feel different from my American neighbors. As an adult, though, I felt regret for not paying more attention.

All the new skills started at rank 0, except for Stealth which started at 1.

As System-Eight promised, there were descriptions for each Status field.

I sighed and gave up on anyone besides System-Eight calling me Ollie anytime soon.

It was curious that the Spirit attribute was on the list. The language about protecting the land’s spirits, as well as its denizens, must be serious.

Tendays? Is that how long weeks are here? I had my first clue about how the calendar in this world was organized.

That was heady stuff. The description made silverlight sound like the primordial substance from which all things came. Had it originated from the gods, or did it precede them? The answer to that question had interesting implications for this world’s cosmology.

I could use it to improve myself. It also wasn’t lost on me that my bow, arrows, and armor had changed after absorbing silverlight while on the spirit journey. The weapons were still patchwork and jury-rigged, but they seemed to have leveled up, just like me.

Can you dig into it more, System-Eight?

There was no response to the thought. It looked like we couldn’t converse until he was able to hijack another notification. Apparently, tooltips didn’t count.

Huh. Two people with 15 Strength could potentially have two different kinds of physical prowess. At the extremes, one might be a weightlifter, while the other was a long-distance runner.

No surprises there. Although, having been poisoned twice, I was curious about the mechanics of resisting conditions.

Well, that was a hint if I ever saw one.

And an even stronger hint. Reaching 15 Wisdom had opened access to System-Eight, and he was likely recommending 15 Intelligence for a chance at a similar gain.

Yep, that explains why 15 Wisdom suddenly triggered System-Eight.

Mental and spiritual conditions were a thing. Good to know.

I’d met more than a handful of charming people. Interestingly, they weren’t always actors and actresses. Some were execs—powerful personalities who dominated the room with their presence. There were also journalists who listened so exquisitely they made you want to open up and tell them everything. All of these people were incredibly dangerous if you weren’t prepared for them.

Don’t worry, System-Eight. Preparation is the best kind of luck there is. That’s what I’ll count on.

Darklight? Is that what the coal-dust-like energy is called?

Huh. The System isn’t afraid to copy and paste.

A couple of things became clear. The first was confirmation that body power had nothing to do with hit points. It wasn’t a measure of my vitality or stamina either. Instead, body power was a resource—possibly for abilities gained from monsterification, or maybe there were fantasy species with biologies that demanded a special resource pool.

The second was that there were natural processes at work to convert silverlight. It really was a kind of origin energy. darklight was too, but I didn’t really know anything about it yet, except that it caused monsterification. I’d have to look for opportunities to learn more.

Complementary skill levels? Like in Rolemaster? In that role-playing game, if you had enough expertise in skill, you’d get a bonus to related skills. For example, being an expert in dance also helped with tumbling. It was a wonderful way to create synergies for a character.

Wait, the phone has a camera? I double-checked and saw a new button at the bottom of the screen. I mentally pushed it and a bracket appeared in my vision. There was no one else around but the otter, so click.

Ah, so the otter was Ikfael, after all. She was the source of the blessing on my status. I had all sorts of questions about how she manifested a physical form, but I doubted the sign language she’d been using was up to the challenge. We need a bigger vocabulary!

Her talents sounded amazing. I tried to find out more, but no tooltips displayed when I focused on them. Still, the names were descriptive enough for me to make educated guesses.

For example, One with Water and Stone probably helped her work with those elements. I’d seen her bend water to her will, after all. As I thought about it, though, I recalled that there’d been times when Ikfael had disappeared into the pool. Maybe she’d literally become one with the water? She was a spirit, so the idea wasn’t that far-fetched. I’d have to watch carefully next time to see.

System-Eight, I love the Force references!

Hello, witcher sight, welcome to the party. You’re every bit as cool as I’d hoped. I had no idea how useful this talent would actually be, but the more tools in my toolbox the better.

The next section was for the blessings I received.

He was the god who had started this journey for me. I’m glad he’d seen fit to give me this blessing. I don’t know what I would’ve done without this gift. Thank you, Diriktot.

I’ll make it through, love. You just wait and see.

Wait, daily fish tributes? I thought I was being grateful and sociable. Hmm… I wish System-Eight included numbers in these descriptions. I’d love to know how big the bonuses were.

Next in my Status were my skills, and of course I jumped straight to the magic section.

My first magic skill. Healing spells, here I come!

Interesting. I wonder if it branches like Hydromancy.

I had the same curiosity about Spirit Magic. Was there a branch for going on spirit journeys?

And hello, it came with a warning. That wasn’t surprising, given the nature of the skill.

The most common weapon? Really? Really?

What about the knife? Sure, it’s also a tool, but that’s what makes it so ubiquitous. Knife, spear, and then… the bow or the ax? Hmm… I don’t know. I’d have to think about it more.

Cool. I didn’t plan to turn edgelord any time soon, but the skill would likely come in handy.

So much to do, and so much to think about. How would I ever manage? I chuckled at my own little joke. I knew exactly how: with a to-do list!

I grabbed a piece of charcoal and started writing on the stony ground.

Eight’s To-Do List

• Wield awesome magics
• Add free attribute point to Intelligence
• Gather materials to tan deer hide
• Wood for a frame and a lot more cordage
• Lye water (can also be used to make soap!)
• Replace arrows, spear, and knife
• Continue morning routine—strength training, yoga, and qigong
• Start evening routine—spear, stealth, and magic
• Test Antler of Icy Breath™
• New clothes
• Diversify food sources
• If Antler isn’t feasible, figure how to store food
• Make contact with farms to the east

The last item was a doozy, but as much I enjoyed being in the woods, I also craved being with other people. Humans were social creatures, after all. If contact was going to happen, though, I’d need to make sure I could take care of myself and also figure out why the guards had run me off.

Focus, Ollie. One step at a time, and the first step is magic.

I closed my eyes and quieted my thoughts. Excitement fluttered in my belly—a tinge of worry too—but I set the feelings aside to focus my attention on the mana inside me.

Where my qi felt warm, strong, and straightforward, my mana felt cool, mysterious, and ever changing. If one was the sun, the other was the moon. Yet, they were both full of potential, just different kinds. The two energies flowed through my meridians. They swirled together in my dantians, like duo-chromatic whirlpools.

I willed mana into my hand. Nothing was visible to the eye, but I somehow saw it in my mind: a ball as pale as moonlight resting in my palm. I absorbed the ball back into my meridians to see if I could, and… Wow, it worked!

A smile spread across my face. This, right now, was the culmination of a thousand childhood fantasies. It was me fighting the orc hordes alongside Gimli and Legolas. Traveling across alternate worlds with Corwin, Prince of Amber. Getting into my own myth-adventures with Skeeve and Aahz. There was so much on my to-do list, but none of it was as important as the wonder that was magic.

I was a kid with a new toy, so I played with it.

The mana was pliable, and I molded it with my will into various shapes. I started with bricks and triangles and worked my way up to otters and airplanes. If I left a shape alone, it slowly degraded back into a ball.

In stories, imagination and visualization were often the keys to transforming mana into useful spells, and that was where I ran into my first hurdle. Nothing I did by way of will, intent, or visualization got the ball to do anything magical. The mana existed as pure potential, and stayed that way.

The first step in solving a puzzle is to gather clues, so I consulted my skills once more to see what memories lay underneath—what hints it might provide for a direction to try. And since the priority was to learn healing magic, I started with Hydromancy.

Inside the skill was the image of a circle—nothing else, just a perfect circle. I checked the other magical skills to see if they were the same. Inside Nature Magic was a vertical line with eight marks at the top, four on each side. It looked like an arrow pointed down, the marks its vanes. Inside Spirit Magic was a spiral.

Hmm… I’d thought that I could use the skills as teachers, but the skill-sensei weren’t as helpful as I’d hoped. I looked over at Ikfael, but she was all woob woob woob asleep. I was on my own, at least until the next meal.

No problem. I rubbed my hands together and started on a solution. Hydromancy’s symbol was the simplest, so I began there.

I shaped a mana ball into a ring, but nothing happened. A disk produced the same result. A series of spheres and ovals followed. I moved the shapes in circles and submerged them in water. I even ate one. I felt a small loss every time I separated the mana from me, which then refilled when I absorbed the failed experiments.

The time flew by, and I completely forgot about the rest of my chores. I tried whatever came into my head, performing dozens and dozens of trials until the fire died down to embers and my butt got sore from sitting too long.

I stood to take a break, and checked on the refrigerator. The Antler of Icy Breath had finally lost its charge after six hours. Six hours of operation for a bit of mana wasn’t a bad trade at all. If I feed it more will it run for twelve? I infused the mana into the antler to find out.

And had an epiphany while doing it.

When I’d first tried to activate the antler, I struggled because I’d micromanaged the process. When I stepped back and held the intention of activating it, my mind responded with the necessary process. I’d tried something similar in my experiments with mana, but to no avail. Perhaps, though, I’d picked the wrong focus for my intention?

I sat down and made a mana ball. This time, I focused on the circle within the hydromancy skill and held the intention of activating it. Nothing happened for a minute. Then two. Then longer, much longer. I realized it wasn’t working when I started to nod off.

Some of the mana had been naturally reabsorbed while I was focusing on the skill, and the ball shrank as a result. I infused it with more, and for a moment—a brief flash—I held both the mana and the perfect circle in my mind.

There was a feeling of stumbling, like walking in a dark room and bumping into a piece of furniture, except it was my intention that had bumped into something. It pushed through the thing, and the mana ball in my hand dyed itself blue.

The mana still felt like potential, but now the potential was drawn to the waterfall and the pool—pulled toward them. Excited, I stood and moved around. No matter where I went, the ball was attracted to the direction of water.

I wondered what would happen if the mana reached the water, so I dipped the ball into the pool. The mana dispersed. I tried it again, with the same result. Then I got smart and cupped the water in my hands before making the ball. The water mana immediately fused with the water, and it glowed briefly. A connection formed. It was the faintest, most subtle thing in the world, but I could feel my will resting against the water.

I pushed, and the water bulged in response. My will wasn’t strong enough to move it yet, but even getting the water to wobble was a victory. The rest would come with practice. I laughed and felt the thrill of a puzzle solved. One piece of it anyway.

I was anxious to learn more.

The water was cool and refreshing when I drank it, but nothing special happened. I didn’t regain the mana either. It was just… gone.

A dropper’s worth of water was left in my palm, and I pushed it with my will. The water slid across my skin an inch away. Then I pulled, and the water slid an inch toward me. My face hurt from smiling so hard. A feeling of pure, innocent joy ran through me. It took almost all day and night, but I’d cast my first spell.

Mana turned green and spritely when I applied the nature rune to it. The ball hummed with energy. It was drawn to me, my tools, to anything and everything around me. I was surrounded by nature, so that wasn’t surprising.

I willed the mana into my rope belt, just to see what would happen, and the ball jumped from my hand to settle inside it. The fibers smoothed out and gained a luster they hadn’t had before. The belt was already decently made, but now it felt more elastic and resilient, at least for a minute or so. Then it went back to the way it was.

I made another nature ball and directed it into one of my hammerstones. The surface became more polished. It also felt—not heavier—but somehow more substantial. After a minute, it also reverted back to its normal state.

There were so many uses for magically enhanced tools! The duration was an issue, but there was bound to be a way to extend it. It wasn’t exactly the same, but there was also the option of using silverlight on important gear to enhance it. I wouldn’t likely do that anytime soon, though, since it was more important for me to go up in level first.

What else? What else can Nature Magic do? Well, there was the obvious next step: human experimentation.

I raised my hand to volunteer. “I’ll do it, Captain. I’m not afraid to be your guinea pig.”

Not that there was much to be afraid of. I’d swallowed a mana ball earlier, and nothing had happened. Even if there was an effect, it’d likely last only a minute.

I took off my shoes and examined my feet. They’d recovered long ago thanks to Ikfael’s healing, but they were sore from being in shoes all day. The skin was rubbed raw in places, even with all the new calluses.

“Right, here goes.” I made a ball of nature mana and eased it into my left foot.

The foot tingled, and the discomfort disappeared. The effect lasted for a minute, and then the discomfort came back. So, there was a beneficial effect, but only temporary.

For stage two of the experiment, I cut my finger on an arrowhead. I then infused a nature ball into the wound. The finger tingled, but the bleeding didn’t stop until I applied pressure to it.

Damn, I thought I’d gotten lucky and stumbled onto a healing spell. But no, my guess was that the magic enhanced what was already there, including the natural healing process. Sadly, it only lasted for a minute. Some healing would happen, but nothing as dramatic as Ikfael’s spell.

So I tried a water ball—since her spell was water-based—but that didn’t work either. I was missing something, yet I had no clue what it could be. I’d have to circle back to the problem once I had a better idea of how magic worked.

What next?

Spirit mana was silvery and ethereal. The energy wanted to go outside, so I took it there. Unsurprisingly, the spirit mana was attracted to a certain slumbering otter. I didn’t want to disturb Ikfael, but I was curious about what would happen. I tiptoed over.

Just before the mana touched her fur, Ikfael cracked an eye open to glance at it. An eyebrow rose. She flicked the spirit ball with her paw, and it popped, like a bubble bursting. She sniffed and turned over to go back to sleep. Clearly, Ikfael wasn’t impressed.

Well I thought it was cool.

I made another spirit ball. This time, I infused it into my left foot. The foot sort of tingled, but the feeling seemed far away. I couldn’t tell if anything happened as a result.

By that point, I felt an emptiness, a hollowed-out space behind my heart. My mana tank was empty.

My experiments with pure mana hadn’t drained me, since I was able to absorb it back, but once the mana was converted into an elemental form, that wasn’t possible anymore. Applying the Hydromancy, Nature Magic, and Spirit Magic runes somehow separated the mana from me. It was no longer my own, and could no longer be absorbed back into my meridians.

Still, I’d learned a lot, and while I was mentally and magically exhausted, I glowed with pleasure. I’d made magic, after all. There was still a lot I didn’t know, but I hoped—I hoped with all my heart—that I’d get the opportunity to learn more.

First the buck, and now magic! Things are starting to turn around.