Weight of Worlds

Esmund’s tether was straining, overflowing with power. All his threads were swollen, multicolor spark flying off them as they strained to contain the massive strength that invaded his tether-space.

In his hands he was holding a small wooden block, the same multicolor rush that flew off his tether surrounded the block as it danced on the spot, tiny slivers flying off it in every direction. He observed with no small awe as each strike was delivered with exacting precision of a far more experienced and controlled tethered.

The block, despite being constantly slashed, dust flying off it in every direction was seemingly holding still in the air as strikes hit it often enough and just hard enough to maintain its current position. This was a level of control he hadn’t even come close to.

The power felt different than normal too. Less regulated. Spiky shards with thousands of edges on them, instead of the smooth rush of devastating force Esmund was used to. With the dustball it didn’t matter too much, but Master Svenar had told him it was something they were going to be potentially moving away from, preferably before he advanced too far. If he kept it up until Sword, then he would likely lock himself out of using the spikier method. Esmund still had years until Sword, though.

The dustball technique slowly petered out, and the chipped wooden ball—once a block—fell into his hands. With an almost sucking sensation, the enormous power retreated from his tether-space and Esmund got a flicker of a sense for the place it had come from. What had been overwhelming to him was less than a single thread from Master Svenar.

Esmund collapsed onto all fours from where he’d been sitting on his heels. Sweat was falling generously from his forehead as the air did its best to avoid his lungs. Closing his eyes, he listened his teacher’s footsteps as the older man made his way around and sat down in front of him.

They sat like that for a time. Esmund kneeling as he heaved for breath, Master Svenar breathing in a slow and controlled manner. Esmund hadn’t known about Insertion before Master Svenar had told him about it and sworn him to secrecy. Apparently, it wasn’t a well known secret, even among Master.

Not that it could do much good for his friends. He was further along than any of them and could barely handle the pressure for a few mere minutes. If their latest power rankings were anything to go by, then Ranvir wouldn’t hold it at all, not an issue since there were no space manipulators to do it for him anyway. The others might tolerate it for a bit, but not long enough to gain anything from it.

“You did good.” Svenar said eventually.

Esmund pushed himself up, looking at the older man. He had a faint sheen on his forehead. Despite the overwhelming difference in power, it still took a lot to access the tether of even a willing apprentice.

“Thank you.” Esmund said, smiling as he took in another deep breath. “It’s incredible.” He continued, unable to help himself. They’d been doing it since the start of the second trimester, barely more than a week, yet he couldn’t stop saying it after every session.

Master Svenar’s control wasn’t that impressive, well it was, but not as impressive as the small things. When practicing insertion, Esmund could feel Svenar’s intent and sense what he wanted each movement of warp to do and change. It was his incredibly deep understanding of the element that really baffled Esmund. How he would sense one strike that didn’t quite move how he wanted, so he adjusted it on the fly.

Esmund was barely aware of his generated warp until after it had already spent its energy. Sure, he could pour more energy into something, allowing it to last longer but that still only allowed him the barest hint of control.

“You flatter me too much.” Master Svenar said with a grin. “If I didn’t know better, I would think you had the same aspirations toward me as that little librarian of yours.”

“No! Ew! I mean not all. What is- why…” He trailed off looking at the widely grinning older man.

“Does my ancient body frighten you?” He asked, mirth glinting in his eyes.

“Obviously...”

Svenar burst into a fit of laughter hard enough for him to roll over.

“So honest.” He finally said, once he’d gotten himself under control. “There once was a time, where I was as pretty as your blond friend and drew just as many eyes around the academy as Dovar does.”

Esmund winced in disgust. “I don’t want to hear about who you had sex with a hundred years ago.”

“A hundred?” Master Svenar exclaimed, laughter glittering in his eyes. “Why I oughta beat that insolence out of you. I’m nowhere near that old.”

Esmund didn’t express his doubt, letting his expression be all the words he needed.

The teacher rolled his eyes. “Well, I think that ends this class pretty well. Just the summary and then we’re done for today.”

“Well, it seemed to me like you have a sort of instinctive understanding of how and when to move and change warp. I don’t know where you’re getting the control from but it’s impressive. Compared to you, it feels like I’m…” He paused looking for words. “You feel like you’re consciously and slowly assembling a tiny model out of small pieces of wood. I feel like I’m throwing them in air and just hoping that they land just right.”

Svenar pursed his old wrinkly lips. “That’s a new description to me, I haven’t heard that one before. What did you think about the difference in warp?”

“I still don’t like your form.” Esmund lifted his hand, still embracing the pressure. Warp trickled out of him as he held out a hand and generated a spiky ball of warp. Each of the tiny blades sticking out with more blades on top of more blades. “There’s something… not quite right about it.”

“Can you give me an example?”

“It’s too-“ Esmund grabbed at air with clawed fingers, trying to hold them still. “Not enough-“ He waves his arms about in smooth quick motions. He looked over to see Svenar rubbing the bridge of his nose.

“That one’s on me. I should’ve known better.” He muttered. “Use your words, please.”

Esmund scowled at him. This was the biggest issue he had with Master Svenar. He always wanted Esmund to use his words, describe things that should be felt. He was glad Ranvir was helping him. He let Esmund pretty much take care of himself, so long as he finished the assignments. None of that describing things.

“It’s too rigid, but also not rigid enough. It’s also too spiky and not flowy enough. There’s too few edges, but there’s too many its…” He grabbed the air again. “Wrong!”

“Okay…” Svenar said, his tone patient. Like he’d done it a hundred times before. Which granted he almost had.

“This.” Esmund generated a smooth warp blade, that quickly flashed down his forearm before disappearing as it left his control. “Is better. It’s more smooth. Flowing right. Too few edges, though I don’t know how I’m going to fix that. It’s not slow but fast. It has the temporary presence warp should have.”

Svenar nodded slowly, looking Esmund up and down. “Thank you for your description. I will take it under consideration.” His face split into a grin. “I should probably mention you’re about ready.”

“Ready?” Esmund asked excitedly, sitting up straighter. “Really?”

“Yes. I’ve felt it in your tether for a while now. There’s a strength that you come to recognize. Usually, I would have you do a series of test to examine your strength and endurance, but I currently have a better grasp on you abilities than I’ve ever had for most of my students.”

Esmund threw his hands in the air, letting out a cry.

“Not too fast now. We’ll do it a week from now. I’ll warn you before hand so you don’t expend your energy. You will have the entire day off for the event. I assume you want to wait for the evening so your friends can watch you. You have a bit of a private lesson thing on your own don’t you?”

“That would be awesome!” Esmund threw a fist at the sky. He couldn’t wait to tell Grev, Sansir, and Ranvir they were going to be so jealous. And Kirs, a delightful tingling feeling ran down his spine at the thought of Kirs.

“I’m warning you now, so I won’t have to afterwards.” Master Svenar said. “We’ll be working on control from now on, until well after you’ve advanced. Your skill will be lacking for quite a while.”

Esmund nodded. He didn’t particularly like control training. It was detail work, something he’d usually found wasn’t actually that necessary. He’d always thought control came after power, since a very skilled pre-stage, couldn’t hope to win against a Dagger. The strength difference was just too big.

Though, maybe he was wrong since both Ranvir and Master Svenar insisted on it. He shrugged it off, he could take a bit of control work.

He was going to advance soon!

He moved in a giddy shuffle all the way back to the dorms. He was going to advance!