Not today, lad.
As the slope carried him, he twisted sharp. Left boot dug deep, right leg braced. The dune buckled under him, sand cascading past his ankles. He planted the spear hard, angled crossways—opposite the beast’s lunge—lining it between two flexing muscle bands near its throat, and—
Drove the spear right in!
CRUNCH.
Black fluid burst free, spraying across the dune. The worm recoiled, convulsing, coils gouging trenches into the sand.
Hope yanked the shaft loose, shoulder already rolling left to dodge a snapping maw. The thing’s breath came hot, foul—air boiled past his neck.
He ducked deeper into the dune’s curve. Sand poured down over him, stickin’ to sweat and blood.
Stay movin’. Sand’s your shield in the desert, Hope.
Boots churned, light steps across the softest patches. He circled fast, eyes tracking every shift of sand beneath the beast.
The worm lunged again—full speed. Hope sidestepped sharp, slid on loose grit, then vaulted sideways off a half-collapsed ridge.
Watch the sand. Read it.
As the dune half-caved under the worm’s weight, showers of grit rained down. Hope used it—vanished into the falling sand, breath held, spear tight.
The ground trembled beneath his feet. He dropped low, palm pressed into the grit.
There—subtle flow, sand pulling slight toward the left.
It’s diving. Circlin’ in under. Not yet… not yet...
Sudden surge. The dune bulged.
Hope leapt clear an instant before the Sandmaw burst up, jaws snapping. A wave of searing air and sand blasted past him.
He rolled, came up running—sharp steps, low stance and spear angled.
The worm spun toward him. Hope lunged in fast, drove the point deep into a seam between muscle bands low on its side.
Crunch. Thick fluid burst free as the creature jerked back.
Hope didn’t stop.
Boots kicking up grit, he dashed crosswise, tracing the shifting flow underfoot. Another pulse—he dropped low, thrust again—high, near the first joint fold.
Black gore spattered across the sand. The worm thrashed, coils ripping trenches through the dune.
Stay smart. Stay quick. Don’t get too greedy.
Another surge—he danced left, skidding down a fresh slope, eyes locked sharp.
He caught the flow—sand rippling ahead. The worm dove again, path arcing in a shallow sweep.
Hope sprinted wide. Waited. Breath sharp.
Then—burst. Another snap from below.
He pivoted and drove the spear down, straight through the side as it rose. It went deeper this time.
The worm screamed, body twisting, spraying more black gore.
Hope wrenched the spear out and leapt back, calmly watching its final moments.
A last violent shudder tore through the dunes. Then—stillness.
Level 24 ? 25
He stared at the new spear in his hand. Made from the tougher, heavier wood he’d found near the edges of the jungle. Rock tip was sharper too.
He had another strapped to his back as backup, just in case. After all… he couldn’t afford to be moving around without a weapon.
At his waist hung a small bag he’d quickly fashioned from a Talgaran he’d hunted before the last nap. Inside—several good rocks for throwing. Took time to make it from its pelt, valuable time… but he needed ’em. Especially in an open place like the desert ahead. And not precisely because of the Sandmaws…
All the craft work had also netted him a fancy upgrade.
??Crafting (Level 4)
You’ve shaped something with intent. Your hands remember.
? Items you craft manually gain +40% durability.
? +30 Physis permanently.
Hope pulled a rock from the bag and turned it in his palm.
Back then, he’d been way too tired and hungry to think straight. Now, with a cooler head, it was clear… he couldn’t just write off those annoyin’, headache-inducin’, good-for-nothin’ dots. Even if they were truly useless right now.
He stared at the rock, held it tight, and shut his eyes.
The potential of Magika was huge. Conjurin’ water. Cookin’ food. That alone made it worth learning seriously. And that was just the start. If he ever wanted to be one of those warriors from the old stories and legends… he’d need to get better controlling these things.
He calmed his mind and focused. What was it Eve had said? There was Heat for cookin’, sure. But… yeah, Earth, Water, and Air… those were types of Magika too. If so, they had to be out here somewhere. Especially Earth.
But… how the hell does Earth feel like?
Hope frowned. He didn’t want to go askin’ Eve every time he hit a wall. He’d already gotten the base—now it was on him to build the rest.
He sat down on a patch of sand, one palm pressing flat to the ground. The other held the rock tight. Eyes shut.
Heat… that had felt like warmth in the air, similar to fire itself but not quite. But Earth… probably wasn’t floatin’ around up there.
He shifted focus lower. Listened. Waited.
First—nothin’. Just the pulse of his own breath and the faint burn of the sunlight.
Patience. He kept still. Let the world press in. Then… something different. Heavy. Steady. No pull, no flicker. Just… weight.
Hope’s breath slowed. That’s it… it ain’t about catchin’ ‘em in the air. It’s about feelin’ what’s already holdin’ ya up.
If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.
He focused sharper. Dug into the feel with his mind. Then—a faint tug.
Hope’s mouth curled in a grin. There ya are, browny stuff.
He felt a shift, and sure enough, as he opened his eyes, a new prompt.
Passive Skill Unlocked:
- Earth Handling
??Earth Handling (Level 1)
You feel the pull of stone and soil—and how to shape it.
? 5% reduction in mental strain when manipulating Earth Magika.
? +1% to Magia while in the presence of Earth Magika (only the highest applicable Magika Handling effect applies at once).
I see. So that’s Earth Magika.
Except for what Eve calls ‘flavor text’, the rest seemed the same as the one for Heat.
No big overall benefit, huh. Should he just focus on one, like with weapons? Maybe...
In any case, he was curious about the other two.
Let’s go Water next.
He shut his eyes again and pictured it. Water. Flowing, splashing, tiny droplets all moving together. Tried to get that feel of wet. Cool on the skin. Slipping through fingers.
He waited. Focused harder.
Nothing for a while. Then—barely there. A very faint, faint tug. Way weaker than Earth or Heat.
He frowned. Slippery little bastard.
He pushed in again. Searched deeper. The tug was scattered, thin, like trying to catch smoke with bare hands.
It took a while, and he was starting to get a bit annoyed when finally—he clicked with one faint blueish dot and pulled it in.
He tried searching for others, but even after a good while only sensed one more.
So Water’s more sparse than the others… is it ’cause of the desert?
Does Magika link to the environment? Hot places got more Heat, a rock’s got more Earth, and maybe those big rivers and lakes got more Water? Should be…
He opened his eyes and noticed, to his surprise, a skill upgrade alongside the new Water Handling skill.
??Magika Sensing (Level 3)
Magika leaves fingerprints on the world. You’ve learned to spot the smudges.
? 15% increase in Magika perception.
? +5 Magia permanently.
He could tell by now what the new line meant. And it was good.
What had Eve said—more Magia meant more Magika perception, control, and… somethin’ else. In any case, the higher the value, the easier movin’ these damn dots should be.
Hope put the rock back in the bag and stood up. There was Air left, but he was getting a bit of a headache. Maybe after more huntin’, let it cool down first.
Also—
"Hey, Eve. Sorry, yesterday or… damn, here it ain’t like a day thing, is it? Anyway, you mentioned back then somethin’ about the headache and some mental stuff? Is there a way to reduce that annoyin’ buzz after movin’ those even more annoyin’ dots?"
Eve nodded. "Using Magika puts strain on your mind. There are two ways to reduce the backlash. One—improve your Magika Handling skill. And two—improve your Magia attribute."
Hope stared down as he took that in. First one took practice and mastery. Second—leveling up was one way, and some skills or feats could boost it too.
"Ok, thanks Eve!"
And with that, he headed deeper into the desert.
But it wasn’t long before Eve asked a question. "Why are you no longer doing that strange dance on the sand?"
"Dance? What—oh, yeah."
Hope took three steps to the right, one back left, then two more forward after a pause. "You mean this?"
Eve nodded.
"Well, that’s pointless here. These big worms? Shitty ambushers. Too slow, too dumb. I can catch ’em comin’ easy. That pattern I used back home, when things under the sand were real nasty bastards. Fast. Blink and dead fast. They’d track sound, guess where you’d step next, and swoosh—flash speed, right there, sting in ya, lights out."
"So… you did that sequence of steps to throw them off? So they couldn’t predict where you’d be next?"
Hope’s eyes flickered with a grin. "You’re smart, girl. Random pace makes ’em come out a bit too late or a bit too early. In the air they’re nothin’, and then you pinch ’em with a prickler knife and got yourself some food."
Eve blinked, head tilting slightly. "Fascinating."
Hope just grinned wider—and kept moving.
Wasn’t long before the next Sandmaw tried to have him for a snack.
But now? Now he knew their game well. Bastards were all the same—same damn shape, same damn lunge, same damn twitch when they missed. Awfully predictable.
And today? He was feeling playful.
"Hey, Eve? Wanna see a real dance in the sand?" He smiled. "Check this out."
As the worm burst up in a spray of sand, Hope slid right over a slope, boots skimming the grit, grinning wide.
"Come on then."
He let it chase—then cut in close, slid one foot crosswise, spear carving a shallow line along its side. Not to kill. Just to mess with it.
The beast reared. Hope darted left, then doubled back fast. Two sharp thrusts—one low, one high—followed by a clean sidestep as the maw snapped shut where he’d been a blink before.
He laughed, breath light. Too easy.
A few more passes—slide, jab, twist, dodge—then one deep swing across the lower coils as the beast tried to dive again.
The Sandmaw shuddered, coiled tight, then slumped dead.
Hope wiped black gunk off his arm, grin still wide as he turned and stared at Eve. "Not bad, huh?"
She smiled. "That was cool."
Cool? Didn’t know soft-hands had that one in the dictionary. Well… did hear her mutter ‘fuck’ once, right? Hmm… interestin’ lad.
He nodded at her, then resumed his march toward the next one—cursing at the damn System for not handing him another easy level-up or skill upgrade after the dashing performance.
Shortly after, he finished off two more—finally getting another level.
Level 25 ? 26
He checked his Magia stat.
Magia: 142 (+1)
It was a bit higher than last time. The headache was gone too.
Alright, let’s give Air a try then.
Hope didn’t sit down for this one. Why would he? He knew damn well where the Air was. Not down, but—
He raised his head and closed his eyes.
Up.
So… what does the Air feel like? The wind that pushes his hair back. The one that he breathes. The one that expands far and beyond… free.
It’s… freedom. That sens—
Suddenly, Hope’s mind flickered.
A series of broken images. A cliff edge. A lone peak. Legs hanging over empty space. Endless sky. Wind swirling through the open air.
Then he snapped back, breath caught, mind spinning. For a moment, he wasn’t sure where he was. His heart pounded in his chest.
A strong breeze pushed against his face. His hair was whipped back, strands lifted in the flow. Around him, countless white sparks moved fast and close, tracing clear lines through the air.
The rush lasted only a heartbeat.
Then the sparks dimmed and vanished. The wind softened. His hair drifted down, settling gently against his head once more.
What the hell was that?
He touched his head, fingers trembling. The headache surged—deep and sharp—worse than the first.
How… what…
His gaze shifted to his screen. His eyes flew wide.
??Magika Sensing (Level 4)
Magika leaves fingerprints on the world. You’ve learned to spot the smudges.
? 20% increase in Magika perception.
? +10 Magia permanently.
Passive Skill Unlocked:
- Air Handling
Feat Achieved:
- Magika Prodigy
??Air Handling (Level 1?5)
You feel the pressure in motion—the shift before the gust—and how to guide its path.
? 25% reduction in mental strain when manipulating Air Magika.
? +5% to Magia while in the presence of Air Magika (only the highest applicable Magika Handling effect applies at once)
??Magika Prodigy (G)
You grasp what others study. Flow comes to you as instinct—not discipline.
? +50 Magia permanently.