Mage Catalyst (7 page)

“I could have died because of this? And you didn’t tell me?”
“Hey, I’m telling you now, alright? So just drop it!” she demanded. “Besides, I would have done you more harm than good last week anyway!”
“You were going to let me die,” I repeated, staggered.
“I said I’m sorry already!” she snarled back, despite the fact that she actually hadn’t.
We sat in silence, staring at each other. My anger kept me silent and I’d like to think her guilt kept her quiet.
“Thank you,” I murmured when my anger had subsided.
“For what?” she said defensively, her arms folded across her chest.
“Well, for not letting me die for one, and for your grandfather’s treatise for two,” I said. “Can I have your proper number this time?” I asked.
“You didn’t like the pizza?” she laughed.
“You use that place a lot?” I replied, dumbfounded. I had just thought she had picked a number at random.
“Yeah, they stiffed me on a pizza once,” she continued.
Amazingly, she made no move to leave and I was able to ask her more questions. She was a little more open with me now. I wasn’t sure if she’d decided that she could trust me, but she was a lot more forthcoming with answers about her life. Renee refused to discuss anything further about the mana though, imploring me to read her grandfather’s writings, saying it would explain it far better than she could, but we chatted long into the night.
“So you didn’t answer me earlier,” I said as the night drew to a close. “Can I have your real number this time?”
“No,” she said.
“No?”
“I’m not going to give you my number today – that would be too easy.”
“Easy?” I was becoming a parrot.
“If you can find me again, I’ll give it to you.” She smiled. “And I’ll know that you’ve understood my grandfather’s work.”
“How am I supposed to find you?” I asked in desperation.
“Read my grandfather’s work!” Renee repeated smugly. “See you soon, Twitch!” she said as she walked away. “Don’t keep me waiting too long.”
I just stared at her with longing.
“Oh, and keep that disk safe. I want it back when you’re done.”

I didn’t sleep well again that night. I twisted and turned in my sleep, unable to switch off. Renee’s words repeated over and over in my mind: “I see you haven’t fried yourself yet.”
I could have died. I wasn’t prepared to use the mana until I knew how to use it properly and I couldn’t learn to use it properly until I read the information on Renee’s disk. Unfortunately my dad’s computer didn’t have a three and quarter inch drive, neither did my laptop. The only place I knew that still had them was the computers in the school library. I’d have to wait until Monday. I hate waiting.
After three days without using mana I began to feel my temperature rising. I still wasn’t sleeping properly and my dreams were troubled. The whole experience had introduced me to a new concept – being eager to get to school. This was a new feeling and one that I didn’t like.
I left for school very early on Monday morning, leaving a note for Tony or Garry on the front door telling them that I’d gone ahead to finish an assignment. I’d hoped to catch a half hour or so in the library where I could look at the disk uninterrupted. The library is always open before school, so that kids can finish homework before class. I tore into the school at high speed,  kicked open the doors into the library and burst inside. I ignored the outraged expression on the librarian’s face and her indignant demand to slow down and settled down in front of a computer terminal. After logging into the system I hesitantly placed the disk into the slot and waited for it to load.
The discordant sound of the floppy disk loading was unusually loud in the quiet library. I looked around guiltily but the librarians had gone back to their morning duties. There were about a half dozen documents on the disk and I selected the one entitled “Basic Principles”. That document seemed like the logical place to start and it also had the earliest creation date.
It was a large document – very large. This was going to take some time to work my way through it all. I tried reading several paragraphs but to be honest I couldn’t really focus on the text. Key sentences kept jumping off the page, drawing my attention to them, but for the most part it was gibberish.

…at the heart of the process is the chemical reaction caused by the conversion between mana energy (Vis Viva to use the Latin term) and other forms of energy. It is the conversion of Vis Viva to other energies that gives a mage his power. Kinetic, sound, light and heat – these are all forms of energy in their most visible form. Converting one to the other is possible as seen in basic physics – heat to light, light to heat and kinetic energy to heat or sound.

This was really dry reading. I may as well have read a Physics textbook. I had no idea what Renee’s grandfather was trying to tell me. I could see the mana particles in my arms, but I still had no idea how to draw upon them. At times it almost was like the mana seemed to know what I wanted to do, but it wasn’t through any conscious order.

How can that be?
When I tried to lift something I could see the particles trail down my arms towards my hands. How did it do that? I had yet to read anything that led me to believe that the magic was consciously aware.

…It can be theorised that as with other forms of energy conversions, no energy is lost in the conversion process. It can then be stated that the average human being must contain an unparalleled level of energy in mana. This would explain the amount of kinetic energy that can be produced by even the most untrained mage with the simplest of telekinetic spells.

This was making me sound like I was some form of human nuclear power plant and that thought did not bring me much comfort. Why couldn’t the book just get to the point and tell me how I needed to gain control of this thing?

…The crux of the issue is the human ability to generate mana. Once a mage begins generating mana, a hormone is released into the bloodstream. This effect in turn releases a series of endorphins which creates a general feeling of euphoria when the mage is actually using mana. The hormone also stimulates the production of yet more mana. The cycle of mana production becomes directly linked to the amount of mana expenditure and soon enough the human body will suffer withdrawal symptoms if the mana is not generated. Therefore the more mana one uses, the more one will crave it and the more mana energy one will be able to generate and the more powerful one will become.

This last sentence made me pause. Something important was being said here. The more I used my powers, the more powerful I would become? That sounded good. Although that wasn’t really telling me anything I didn’t already know. If you practice something of course you’re going to get better. I didn’t realise until much later that the actual importance of that sentence was not about ‘generate’, it was the word ‘crave’.
I didn’t manage to get through the whole of that particular document – it was far too long. There was a second, shorter piece titled “Kinetic transference” that I spent most of my time pondering over. I was pretty sure that it was what Renee had been using in the alley that night.
The frustrating thing about this ‘book’ was that there didn’t appear to be any spells as such. It wasn’t like I could memorise a string of words to weave my magic. There were no secret words or base enchantments. Renee’s book was trying to get me to understand complex principles and theories. It was a little strange reading a book that read like my Physics textbook but discussed the most un-scientific topic I could imagine.
Renee’s grandfather had even included some test notes in footnotes, claiming to be able to lift up to 500 kilograms, but theorised that with intensive use, there was probably no limit to how much weight could be lifted.

…The spell of telekinesis relies heavily upon the principle of extension or the ability to draw the mana from your body into a mana thread. It is a difficult challenge and one that usually takes several weeks of practice. It is difficult at first to maintain the thread as it will often attempt to dissipate once outside the confines of your flesh.

Apparently Renee was right, I had done something unusual. I had learned the basic control within an afternoon. To be fair it wasn’t complete control, but I certainly hadn’t had any great issue with the mana thread dissipating. It wasn’t until I got to the following paragraph that an important truth dawned upon me.

…It is important to understand the relationship between mana and mind. Mages attempting to protect themselves from a fire could do so in several ways. First, one could suck all the air away from the fire, thereby suffocating the flame. One could employ a hydrant to the fire thereby dousing it. One could cause the flame to increase in intensity thereby burning itself out before reaching its intended target. It is important to realise that this is not a conscious decision on behalf of the mage – the mage merely wishes the fire out.

It is the unconscious mind that determines the result of the endeavour. Only in understanding the way in which we interact with the world around us can we become more precise and less wasteful of effort. This in turn makes the mage more powerful: knowledge is the key - power itself is irrelevant.

I re-read that paragraph three times before I finally understood what I was being told. This explained why I couldn’t lift up an object with any precision. I was trying to do what Renee had done!
I had seen Renee use this technique as a weapon to knock someone down in an attack. An attack can’t be used to lift or move things! There was no subtlety in Renee’s attack thus there could be no subtlety in my use of the technique either. I sat back from my chair in a daze, my mind trying to assimilate what I’d learned. I could feel the excitement building within me. It was not my lack of control that was leading me to failure, it was my unconscious intent.
I was sure that I could do it now – but I needed to practice and I obviously couldn’t do that here. The library was far too open and I had run out of time. I had about five minutes before my first class.
I packed up my stuff and ejected the disk from the computer. If I had been thinking more clearly I would have copied the files from the disk so I could look at them later, but it didn’t occur to me until after I had already left the library.
Tony and Garry were waiting for me at a long string of benches where we usually hung out. It was our unofficial meeting place as we usually gathered there before going to class or walking home.
“Morning,” Tony greeted as he saw me approach. “Forget our homework, did we?” He seemed friendlier than last time, but there was still something off.
“Yeah,” I mumbled back sheepishly.

“Yeah, well, if you get detention again, don’t count on me to help you out this time.”
“Help me out! How did you help me out?” I said in mock outrage.
“Hey, I kept you company!”
“Kept me company? As I recall we just sat there silent for the whole hour!”
“Yeah, well… I didn’t have anything to say.”
“That explains why I was so quiet then – I was stunned into silence at the thought of you running out of anything to say.”
Tony laughed then looked at me seriously. “So, what’s going on, mate? Did you see her again?”
“Yeah.” I didn’t want to pursue this line of conversation at the moment, but Tony wasn’t to be put off.
“What’s this? You met up with a girl?” said Garry. “Get anywhere?” he smirked lewdly.
“No, well she wanted to…” I grinned, playing along, “…but I had a headache and had to wash my hair.”
“You do have such lovely hair,” Sarah interjected from behind me – I hadn’t even heard her approach.
“Wash, rinse, repeat,” I said, quoting an annoying shampoo commercial.
“What technique, you must be a fantastic lover.” She smirked back, poking her tongue out at me.
“I don’t get any complaints,” I said. Actually, although I had kissed a few girls, I had never had sex. But Sarah didn’t need to know that. Fortunately for me the bell rang before anyone was able to comment further.

English class again. Mr Saunders’ monotonous voice filled the room, only broken by the squeaking on the white board. I wasn’t paying attention. Instead, my mind was fixated on what I’d learned in the library. I was sure I could do it now. I definitely couldn’t practice in class. It would be too obvious and unfortunately Saunders would never let me go anywhere. If I asked for a toilet break, he’d probably come looking for me after five minutes.
I’d have to sit through English and wait until my next class. I scanned my timetable, History next. That wasn’t too bad. I could easily get away with ducking out of History class for a few minutes without causing too much disruption.
Because I was so tired from the sleepless nights I actually dropped off to sleep for a moment and Saunders woke me with a question. Strangely he didn’t seem that angry about it. What the hell? I would have thought he would have torn me a new one. He seemed to let it pass and English class drew to its thankful conclusion and we all marched in a line to the class door.
“Devon, a moment please.”
Resigned, I turned and walked back into the room.

Mr Saunders waited at his desk. “Sit down,” he said.
I did. Great. I was going to get detention for sleeping in his class. This was more like the usual Saunders that we all knew and loved.
“I want to talk to you.” He peered over his glasses at me.
“Yes, sir?”

“Is... everything okay at home?”
Wow. Saunders actually looked nervous. “Yeah… sure it’s fine,” I stammered. We looked at each other, confused.
“You haven’t been looking well recently.”
“Everything’s fine,” I assured him. “I’ve just been having some trouble sleeping at the moment.”
“Stress with the workload?” he suggested. “We have that essay on
Heart of Darkness
coming up next week.”
Shit. I hadn’t even started that yet. That was going to cost me.
To my surprise, he gave me another week without even prompting. Something was definitely going on here, but I decided not to look the gift horse in the mouth.
“Get some sleep,” he called as I left the room.
This was unexpected. I wouldn’t have thought Mr Saunders would even notice if I wasn’t feeling well. Sure, I’d fallen asleep and I hadn’t been actively trying to make his class a laughing joke recently – but I can’t have been that out of it. Why was he being so nice? Is it possible that I’d misjudged him?
I caught up to Garry who gave me a questioning look about being called back by Saunders. I ignored it. “I’m going to cut History,” I announced. “I need to finish some homework – I’ll see you at recess.”
I waited a few minutes around the corner before heading towards the toilets. The bathroom I’d selected was a remote one, unlikely to be used during class time. So it was unlikely that I’d be interrupted. I made sure there was no one in the bathroom and quickly locked the door behind me. I turned and looked at myself in the mirror and saw the ‘stranger’s eyes’ taking hold of me as I took a deep breath. I could feel the mana in my body react – almost as if it knew what I was about to do. I turned and placed my bag on the far side of the room. I breathed back out and held my hand in front of me. I flexed my fingers and watched with glee as a tendril of mana surged from my hand and with perfect precision wrapped around my school bag and brought it floating back to me.
An intense wave of euphoria washed over me, one that had nothing to do with endorphins. I grinned to myself as I felt the unfamiliar wave of pleasure as the mana washed over me.
This was the control I sought – I had perfectly dictated the movement of the bag. It was not like I was fighting for control with myself any longer. The wild uncontrolled thrashes that had previously been the limit of my control were gone. This was perfect. I hadn’t even rumpled the sides of the bag as my telekinetic chord wrapped itself around it.
It was a single perfect moment. My bag was floating about two feet in front of me. I leaned back against the wall and watched transfixed as the mana particles slowly pulsed from my outstretched hand to the corners of the bag.
I had done it! I had achieved the desired level of control and I had achieved it in the most ignoble and inglorious of places – a high school toilet block.
I had a reasonable wait before recess. I had thought about returning to class, but decided against it – instead I chose to go to the library. I needed to copy across the documents from the old disk anyway.
The library was relatively quiet when I arrived – but then again it’s always quiet. I selected a computer terminal and loaded up the disk again.
I opened up the last document I’d been looking at and scrolled down until I reached where I was up to. I also took the time to copy the files to my USB drive so I’d be able to read them later on my laptop. There wasn’t that much more on telekinesis left.