Luckily, the short duration he’d evacuated his leg of blood hadn’t seemed to do any damage. In fact, it hadn’t really even hurt apart from a bit of discomfort.
Vir tried again. This time, he left a small amount of blood in his leg to carry the prana from the ground and evacuated the rest.
As before, black prana rushed into his foot, and it immediately supersaturated the blood there. Vir lost no time and forced that blood directly into his leg muscle while crouching and kicking off.
Vir expected a small boost in his leaping ability. Instead, he crashed into a wooden post in the sand… ten paces away. At high speed.
His face took the brunt of the impact, sending him reeling in pain.
“Vir! Vir? What happened?”
“I think I just learned how to do Talents,” he said, turning around. He wished he could’ve frozen the look of shock on Maiya’s face.
“Chala’s knees, Vir! Y-you’re bleeding! Oh, no. W-wait. Just hang tight, okay? I’ll go get Riyan, we’ll get you healed up!”
Vir nodded, cupping his profusely bleeding nose. That was the second time his harebrained experiments had worked better than he’d thought they would. He really had to be more careful. The amount of prana he’d used was nowhere near what Riyan had consumed to power Leap.
He sat on the ground, needing a few minutes to…
Why’s the world going dark?
As his vision faded, he had the realization that smashing his head into a wooden post was probably not great for his health.
Vir woke to clapping and deep, rich laughter.
Riyan was… laughing? No. Impossible. Riyan never laughed. This could mean only one thing.
The Ashen Realm had finally eclipsed the world, casting them all into oblivion. Or perhaps this was the afterlife. Vir would’ve preferred it if the man wasn’t here… Was he doomed to endure the man’s brutal training even in death?
“Vir?” a melodic voice sounded out. An angel?
Vir looked up. Nope. Not an angel. Just Maiya.
“Thank Yuma, you’re awake! He’s awake!”
“About time the boy woke,” Riyan said, clapping him on his back. That hurt. A lot.
Vir looked around to find himself in the living room, on a sofa with his head in Maiya’s lap.
“What happened?” he asked, gingerly touching his nose, only to find it mended and healthy. Had he imagined crashing headlong into a post?
“You crashed into a wooden post. It was incredibly hilarious. We were just chatting about it,” said his wonderful friend.
“I only wish I was present to see it myself,” Riyan said, wiping tears from his eyes.
Why’s he in such a good mood? Vir thought as he sat up. He’d never seen the man this happy.
“I must commend you, Vir. Never in my wildest dreams did I think you would learn a Talent this quickly. Truly incredible. You may very well be a prodigy.”
Ah. That’s why. Riyan was glad he’d just become a more potent tool for him to wield.
Vir ground his teeth in frustration. If he’d played his cards well, Riyan would never have found out about his Talents. Now, the cat was out of the bag.
Maiya flashed him a pained look that said ‘I tried.’ Vir understood—Maiya had lied on his behalf and been found out.
Wait… ‘Vir’! Riyan had just referred to him by his name! He’d never done that before. Not even once. He’d always been boy. For some bizarre reason, he drew as much satisfaction from this as his new Talent.
Since the man seemed to be in a good mood, Vir figured he’d play along and see what information he could glean from the man.
“You said that Talents don’t use magic, yeah? That means they don’t use prana?” he asked, massaging his head. Most of the pain of his encounter with the post had dissipated, but a headache still lingered.
“Correct. This is why we Talent wielders can fight anywhere in the world with our abilities, the only restriction being that we cannot initiate Talents midair. No one understands why.”
It made perfect sense to Vir. Earth Affinity prana lived only in the ground, after all.
“Rejoice, Vir,” Riyan continued. “For you have been blessed by the gods. What they took away from you in prana ability and stamina, they have given you with aptitude for Talents.”
Oh, right. He still doesn’t know that my stamina’s improved a lot.
He could use that. If he kept the true extent of his strength hidden, it might very well give him an edge in the future.
“Here, Vir,” Maiya said, handing him a plate full of brown rice and lentil soup, along with a tall glass of water. “It’s not much, but I figured you’d wake up hungry.”
“Thanks,” he said, right as his stomach grumbled.
Vir dug into her delicious food.
“So, what can you tell me about Talents?” he said between bites. “How do people usually learn them? What kinds of Talents are there? How powerful do they get?”
Riyan stroked his long beard in thought. “Some Talents are well known, and the method to obtain them well understood. Others may come to people during times of extreme duress, or on account of unique situations. For those that are known, they usually involve years of intense training and meditation, and even then, not all warriors can unlock even a single Talent. Though, those that do learn one Talent are likely to learn several more in their lifetime.”
That made sense. Talents used prana. Specifically, Earth Affinity prana, and also apparently Black Affinity prana. Which meant only those possessing these affinities could use Talents. Those with lesser affinity compatibility probably had to struggle far more to gain a Talent than those with Apex compatibility, and from what Vir guessed… people were blindly learning these abilities, stumbling about until they happened by them through sheer luck.
Another thing Riyan said struck him. That he could use his Talents even in the Voidlands, which meant Earth Affinity prana—and probably also Black Affinity—had to exist everywhere, and in sufficient quantities to power arts. Very much unlike the other affinities, which existed only in the air.
Vir had really lucked out. There was no reason to believe his black prana would behave the same way Earth prana did. Granted, they both lived inside the ground, so he had some reason to believe they’d be similar, but he was beyond ecstatic that things worked out this well. In fact, it seemed like he needed less prana to pull off Talents than what Riyan needed with his Earth Affinity prana. Was Black Affinity simply more potent?
But his excitement wasn’t about his discovery of Leap, though that Talent was certainly useful. He’d learned something far more profound.
He’d learned the concept behind Talents. With his new knowledge, there were so many experiments he could run. So many ideas to explore. He’d bet an Imperium seric that he’d be unlocking more Talents soon. Who knew? Maybe he’d even invent new ones people had never seen before. Above all of this, it proved to him once more that he wasn’t in fact prana scorned. And that made him so happy he could almost die happy. Almost.
“As for what Talents exist, there are many. Talents, like magic spells, are ranked on a scale. Common, Uncommon, Rare, Mythic, and Lost Arts, in order of increasing rarity and power.”
“What Talents do you have?” Maiya asked.
“It is rude to ask,” came Riyan’s curt reply.
“What rank is Leap?” Vir asked, half guessing the answer.
“Common. It is a basic Talent that almost every Talent wielder possesses.”
Thought so… The ability was fairly basic.