It has been shown that Travelers from Earth have an almost unlimited capacity for magical growth, however most travelers only utilize a portion of the magical spectrum. This has been shown to be due to the reliance on magic already unlocked, and the lack of subconscious need for additional magic.

  For instance, if you gain a significant degree of expertise with fire magic, you could learn to shoot fireballs; what could the addition of earth spears do when you can already blow craters in your enemies? While the cultivation level does play some role, the same is true for skills. As for why those from Earth have such capacity for growth, it’s not well known.

  Some theorize that those from Earth that travel to other realms find themselves in abnormal and adverse conditions. That the mental, physical and spiritual adversity of being in a new realm causes those from Earth to find some new power deep inside themselves. Some have wondered if Earth’s lack of any native magic is why it is a popular site to find new travelers.

  -Exert In introductory material in the Traveler’s guild

  With the elves off the island, I know two things: I need to get stronger, and I need to get off this island as soon as possible. Searching the moored boat, I find emergency food supplies that will last a week, for a crew of three. While the boat is ready to go, I’m concerned what I might find at sea.

  As much as I want to get into the last boat, load up on everything not nailed down in the fort, and dash to the open waters; I‘m more concerned about what monsters will be lurking under the waves in this fantasy world. Most of the lizards on the island didn’t display magic, but there is also a dungeon full of magical aquatic creatures.

  I’m sure in the vast ocean there are creatures of legend just waiting to crack open boats like a chef cracking eggs to make a steam plate of scrumptious scrambled eggs with thick shredded chunks of cheese and crispy bacon.

  I feel the best chance I have is to hone my magical water affinity skills at least a few levels before venturing out into the great unknown. My magic is coming along; it’s moving from being a gimmick to something that has power behind it. I’ve made some breakthroughs to gain greater utility with my magic, but the abilities I’ve developed so far aren’t nearly as reliable as I need. I need to be capable of channeling more mana into my spells, to make them truly useful.

  The only way to make them more reliable would be to do some hunting on the island. My plan is to bring an undead goblin with me while Morgana watches my back in the raised elf she has grown so attached to. I want to practice three skills I think will be the most useful: aqua kinesis, ice manipulation and command undead. Aqua kinesis will be a massive advantage while at sea, it will allow me to move the boat faster and I have no doubt there are other uses in the open ocean. Ice manipulation will give me a ranged attack that can deal significant damage and command undead will be useful for physical labor and navigating the boat. I will accomplish as much training as I can before afternoon and leave at midday.

  I still feel paranoid that something is trying to find me, just out of sight. I worry about coming back to the base to find enemies waiting for me. I raise one of the goblins and have it wait in hiding. When we come back to the base Morgana can possess it, scout the grounds and give me the all-clear before we walk back inside.

  My mission to find one of the overgrown lizards isn’t difficult. The first lizard Morgana and I come across is about a yard long, far larger than the others I have seen. The lizard is lounging on a rock, enjoying the warm rays of the sun. The crunch of rock underfoot alerts it to our presence, and its hisses increase in ferocity with every approaching step I take.

  I mentally order a raised goblin we take with us to charge. The lizard squares up with the charging goblin, hissing, and posturing in a threatening manner. Almost comically, the lizard backs up, clearly not sure why the goblin would want to fight it after it issued its persistent hissing.

  As the goblin stabs at the lizard with its scrawny arms, the powerful draconic jaws of its foe deliver swift and devastating bites that snap the bones of the goblin’s leg. The undead goblin’s leg gives, and the undead goblin I’m controlling falls to the ground. The lizard sees an opportunity, pouncing on the foolish invader’s chest.

  Just as the jaw descends to finish the undead construct off, I split my focus. I pull some water from my canteen to create baseball sized ice shards and send the chunks of ice hurdling at the overgrown lizard. They don’t skewer the reptile as I had hoped, but they do create small wounds that cause blood to coat its glistening scales that look like little rubies. The lizard’s head snaps to me as I become the bigger threat.

  I order the goblin to attack, to draw the attention of the predator from me. While the goblin ineffectually attacks the lizard on top of it, I pull water out of my canteen swirling it behind me. I mentally pull off a small amount, freeze it, and fling it at the lizard with all the magical acumen I possess.

  While the attack is clunky now, I have dreams of being able to use the water and ice to manifest a barrage magical frozen swords and icicle spears. The water I can use to create a barrier of spinning water, to swipe away arrows, while I skewer my enemies with ice projectiles.

  The lizard doesn’t enjoy my new strategy and tries to close the distance. Beside me Morgana tenses, ready to jump in if I am in mortal danger. I send reassurance over the link, quelling her anger.

  ‘I want to try a few things first. If they don’t work, feel free to save my butt.”

  As the lizard approaches, I have the water swirl and hit it hard from the side. It’s not meant to do damage but to push the lizard away from me. It splays its feet, clawing at the ground. It only moves a foot, but my attack stops the predator in its tracks. The pause gives me long enough to form another ice projectile and launch it. This one catches the lizard right in the head.

  The lizard shakes its head while pulling back, thrashing wildly on the ground from its disorientation. The undead goblin meekly pulls forward on its remaining good arm, determined in its mission but this battle is now between me and the lizard. I stop splitting my focus to the undead, so I can focus more on my attacks, causing the goblin to go limp.

  I follow up with ice shard after ice shard in a continuous stream of projectiles. I’m barely able to keep up, teetering on losing all control of my magic. It’s not a lack of mana sustaining my barrage that’s the issue, but continually shaping, aiming and firing is complex. I grit my teeth, keeping the steady stream of ice darts shooting forward to the lizard.

  Eventually, the lizard sustains enough damage that it seeks to retreat, but it’s too injured to outrun me now. A pang of sympathy rings through me as I realize the grim work to finish the lizard: this is no longer a fight to see who will survive, but a challenge to see how fast I can put the creature out of its’ misery. The ice shards are effective, but not as fatal as they need to be.

  Despite its’ retched state, I know it’s still capable of killing me if I let my guard down. I decide to try one more attempt to give it a quick death but putting more effort into one ice projectile. If the next attack only causes it more pain, I’ll take the risk of closing the distance and using my sword to decapitate it.

  I try something new, forming ice by pulling the water back before launching the enhanced ice dagger forward. The new method works as I hope it will, and a sharp point forms on the ice shard. Once I launch it forward, it lethally skewers the lizard killing it quickly.

  I’ll not be able to use this new method to continuously form the ice projectiles in rapid succession, as I had done with the lesser versions. The pointed ice shard takes almost three times as long to form, but it’s a much more powerful attack and something I’ll keep in mind in the future.

  I look at the undead goblin laying on the ground. I command it to move closer to the lizard and see it pitifully crawl toward the lizard, dragging its useless leg, and generally making a mess. With a flex of my will, I release my link, and the body of the goblin falls limb. Despite having suffered the lizard is in a much better state so I raise it as my new minion. With the battle at an end, I smile as I will my skill up notifications to appear.

  I try out the new spell form, eager to see what it’ll do.

  It’s an interesting feeling, the sudden change as the effects of the current spell form kick in. There’s a strange pressure as my mana regen drops, but the water behind me is now effortless to handle.

  Normally, I will need to pull from my mana pool, and it will regenerate later, but this could be a way to utilize my mana regeneration when my mana pool is full, or even empty! On top of those benefits, it looks as though the spell has a quality modifier in front of the name.

  Slight doesn’t sound that impressive which makes me think there might be a better version or way to upgrade it in the future. I smile as I enjoy the rewards of my hunt. I have a new spell form and a few new levels in my aqua kinesis skill. I have a feeling that leveling my aqua kinesis more might help me unlock other spells or might have additional benefits.

  Now that I’m no longer being hunted, at least for the moment, and I don’t need to focus all my mental space on surviving, I ponder more on the nature of the magic I have. There is affinity, mixed affinity magic and spell forms.

  I could feel the spell form was like an ingrained action that feels easier to use. Learning the spell form is like learning to write when I was a kid: at first, I have crude pencil scratches but as I gain experience, I learn fluid movements that are subconscious. Calling it muscle memory feels wrong, maybe mana memory?

  Maybe given time I can get even better and learn additional spell forms, then I remember the first spell form I learned from the dungeon. I was never in the right mind space to focus on using it, let alone analyze it. The spell form hints at a rating. I wonder what a higher rating spell form will look like and if I can refine it on my own.

  I now have multiple spell forms that will greatly benefit me, in my escape from the island. A stronger healing spell form will be a great boon to me, so I try to practice with the spell form.

  With a little trial and error, I learn I need to have injuries to train my use of the spell form more. Casting a healing spell on undamaged or dead tissue has little effect. I know I need to get stronger and for my healing to grow I might need to treat wounds and different types of wounds.

  Morgana and the zombies won’t benefit from the healing magic. So far, I’m the only living entity that I can practice on. I shake my head at the dark thought. I‘m not going to cut myself just to examine how I can improve my healing magic.

  I can try to use it on one of the lizards but harming an animal over and over, just to heal it sounds horrifying. After the fight where I lost the raised goblin, I stalk the island killing one lizard after another. I pull up my notifications after finishing off the twelfth lizard, I see another surprise.

  If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

  I jump up and down, pumping my fists as I read the messages. I have acquired an ice spell form! Just like the “current” spell form, it’ll be cost more mana to use the spell form than manually controlling my mana, but it’ll take much less time and concentration to summon the magic.

  I read the raise dead spell form again to look at the effects of investing mana. The ability to invest more mana is interesting, as I’ve never really considered the level of the undead when I raise them. Most of the time, I just pump as much darkness affinity mana into them as I can, until I feel a link established.

  To test this, I refocus on the lizard at my feet, pushing more mana into it. It feels weird at first, like there is aback pressure, causing some of the mana to not soak into the corpse. After a few moments, the raised lizard slowly changes; the flesh and bones shift and warp as the mana begins to sink in.

  The flesh deflates, giving the creature a ghoulish appearance, but I can tell the animated undead is more responsive to my guidance. It reacts to commands with alacrity, and its’ movements are more fluid. I look over to see Morgana tilting her head in confusion, pondering at the change in the lizard.

  I sense the bond wondering what she’s feeling. I feel a cold calculating gaze, analyzing the changes. Nothing of the emotion of interest or curiosity, I hoped she might feel. The realization is like a cup of cold water on my burning excitement, not enough to destroy my burning excitement from all my progress, but it is slightly dampened. Maybe improving the construct, she is inhabiting will help, a thought for later.

  “Morgana! This is so cool I just got two new spell forms.” I brag, unable to hold back my excitement, “one is an ice spell form, and the other is a spell form that lets me invest mana to make stronger undead.”

  Morgana turns to me with her head still tilted and mechanically raises her thumb. It irks me a little that she does not match my level of energy, but I also realize that with her stilted emotions, this is the equivalent of her jumping up and down in excitement.

  ‘Can you invest in my body?’ She asks over the bond. I shiver at how wrong that statement sounds but it could’ve been far worse.

  I ready my mana and push it into her. Interestingly, it’s almost the opposite from when I pushed mana into the lizard. The mana doesn’t need to be pushed, but greedily sucks into her, more like she’s a mana sponge. The spell form falls apart well before it can touch the body with her spirit.

  Still, the mana is almost sucked into the body she possesses against my will. I see the elven form transform but her body takes on a very different transformation. It the body shivers but it is not quite shrinking in on itself so much as a rearranging. It grosses me out way more than when I had invested in the lizard but is also more mana taxing, so I stop after only a few seconds.

  “Why did you stop?” She asks, and it takes me a moment to realize she said the words instead of using her link with me to talk telepathically. It seems feeding her mana did more than just improve the general stats.

  I wonder if the lizard or goblin minions will be able to talk if I invest enough mana in them. I doubt it, since her changes are different than those of my normal minions. The whole time the process happened, she stood still as her body wriggled. It’s very disconcerting, but she completely ignored it.

  “It was eating away into my mana. I’m taxing my regen with all the spell forms, and now I’m at a fifth my max.”

  “Oh.” She says with a slightly wilted tone.

  I concentrate on our bond and notice she feels more spiritually solid. Still not quite alive, but somehow, she’s more substantial.

  A few moments after I stop channeling mana, the body stops wriggling and stabilizes. The flesh from the body is rearranged so the wounds are closed and filled in. The skin itself takes on a more serene form, porcelain-like quality. The change pushes the appearance firmly into the uncanny valley: all the parts are in the right place but something about it is fake.

  My parietal cortex triggers in response, sensing a predator trying to pass itself off as a human in disguise, resulting in a general feeling of unease. Putting that aside for now, we move back to the camp. With all the progress I made, I want to try to train and level more, but the sun is directly overhead, and I accomplished the goals I set. Now it is time to leave before anyone new comes to the island and finds me.

  The trek back to the fort is quiet and uneventful. As we near the base, my paranoia spikes. I ask Morgana to take on her spirit form to clear the base, before I enter the walls. As she spiritually disentangles herself from the elven body, I look at her spiritual form and observe that the clarity of her spirit is weaker.

  I check through the bond and feel she’s not as strong as when she was possessing the elven corpse. Maybe the mana is changing the elf corpse to be a better host? The whole idea is disconcerting, but Morgana is the closest thing I have to a friend. I’ll do what I can to make her existence easier for her -but maybe I’ll not look her in the face when I invest mana next time.

  Once the base was clear we started loading up the boat and by we, I mean I raised the rest of the undead goblins that I can now give simple commands to move supplies. Unfortunately, I underestimate how long it will take to train and load the boat. As the sun starts to sets, I decide to head out first thing the following morning. I can still sail if I need to, but I’d rather start my sailing journey in the light of day, than try to remember how to sail in the dark.

  Morgana stays on the boat, making sure the goblins don’t do anything like trip and throw all our rations into the ocean, while I stay in the dining hall issuing commands. I invest in each of the goblins to push them to level 3. They aren’t significantly stronger, but surprisingly they accomplish all the commands I give them without any trouble.

  While the goblins load the boat, I see a new notification alerting me to a level up. I see my command undead skill hits level 10 before the end of my training day. After contemplating how far I’ve progressed the skill, I frown with a bit of disappointment. When my skills in other affinities leveled up to ten, I learned new spell forms. I was hoping that level 10 would unlock a spell form for command undead, and I’d be able to appoint an undead overseer or something equally cool.

  You have gained one level in the delve affinity magic command undead; it is now level 10.

  While a little disappointing, it’s still a major success overall. By the time the ship is finished being loaded, and everything has been placed in the small cargo haul, the sun is retreating across the horizon.

  I start a fire and watch the flames dance, cooking my first hot meal since arriving. The fort has preserved meat, which I put on the grill. After some taste testing, I identify salt and pepper among a simple set of spices in the fort. I add the spices to some foreign vegetables which are preserved like the meat, as I steam them for a side dish.

  Without looking up from my cooking. I call out, “Hey Morgana?”

  “Yes?” her wispy voice calls back.

  I hesitate before broaching the subject, “How much do you remember?”

  “Nothing.” The response is immediate and there’s no heat in her voice. She could’ve been talking about the weather.

  I raise an eyebrow, “Really? What about when we connected?”

  “I saw you look at me, throw up, and then throw up some more. I felt a… fuzzy feeling, but I don’t remember anything else.”

  From her perspective I can see how that would look strange, “Ah well- I didn’t throw up because of you. Er- well, not because of anything you did.”

  “It’s ok. I am inhabiting an undead body. I know I’m revolting.”

  The phrase comes as a gut punch. Through the bond I can feel it is just a statement; her feelings aren’t hurt. Even so, I feel that seeing yourself as revolting can’t be good for your mental health. “Well, you aren’t revolting.”

  “You find this body attractive?” She asks with a raised eyebrow. If anyone else had asked me those words I would think they were pulling my leg. From here there’s no judgement, only a logical confusion emanating from her. …somehow that makes it worse.

  Realizing I’m sticking my foot in my mouth, and this line of conversation is getting awkward, I splutter to stop myself. Then, unbidden, a laugh erupts from me. The laugh is deep, causing me to gasp between laughs. My sides start to hurt, but the release of tension is worth it. What she said isn’t even that funny, but it feels like a weight is pulled from my shoulders.

  She watches for a short time before a look concern cracks her porcelain face “Are you ok?”

  I shrug my shoulders, the last vestiges of my laughing fit subsiding. “Who knows… but I think I’m better now.”

  As the laugh fades, I let out a deep breath, feeling my aching chest muscles. Then to clarify, I add, “Just to be clear I’m not attracted to dead elf men.”

  “I will make a note that for the future.”

  I roll my eyes.

  “Morgana, do you have any dreams?”

  “I don’t sleep any longer.”

  “No, I meant do you want anything?”

  “I don’t know. Every time I inhabit a body I feel more. Like I’m no longer as cold and unattached to the world, but I also feel like I’m getting closer to something I don’t want to be close to. Like something bad is laying in wait; waiting for me to get close enough it can snare me. Like I’m closer to remembering something I don’t want to.” Unbidden memories of her life come back to my mind.

  I throw a stick on the fire watching it curl and turn a bright orange as the flames consume it. “I’m sorry Morgana, I want to help you, but I am not sure how.”

  A moment of silence passes before I desperately think of something to fill the space.

  “You know I died too before I came here.”

  “That would explain your lack of revulsion to the undead.”

  “Hey, I said I wasn’t attracted!”

  “Yes, you made it very clear you are not attracted male undead elves.”

  “Stop implying things. I’m not attracted to the undead at all.”

  I look over to see her placid face watching me. I close my eyes and concentrate on sending mana to Morgana. I don’t enjoy constantly pushing mana into her form. The feeling of investing mana isn’t bad but the sight of her form when I invest mana makes my stomach turn.

  I hope the changes to the form is inhabiting will help her. Some of the horrid sounds I hear as bones and flesh are realigned are covered by the sizzling of food and popping of the wood fire. Still, I can hear the unnatural transformation, but the cost is worth it if the alterations give Morgana a moment of peace.

  I decide to indulge while I still have the fire and throw one more piece of meat on the fire. While cooking the searing meat, I feel something: a whiff of curiosity.

  At first, I mistake the sensation as coming from Morgana, but after I search my feelings, I realize it’s drifting to me from another source.

  I turn to the creeping dark of night, I notice a fox gazing, eyes locked on the meat frying on a pan. I can feel curiosity through my mental empathy. I focus on the fox, coaxing the creature to lay down with my will, hoping to train my mind magic. The foxlike creature flicks its right ear in annoyance, as though a fly has tried to enter, but the notification of a level up spurs me to try again.

  I’m not able to make the foxlike creature do anything, but I realize I can subtly influence it. Instead of laying down, I make it feel tired. I tease it’s gnawing hunger, to increase its desire for the grilled meat. I practice channeling power as subtly as I can, like gentle prodding fingers brushing but never daring to touch.

  I prod the creature to come closer. The fox tentatively begins walking closer, and I throw a piece of meat for it on the ground a few feet from me. So, it will go for the scrap when it thinks I’m not looking. As the fox-like creature hears the meat hitting the ground, it freezes eyes flitting between the succulent meat and watching me skeptically for the trap.

  Another fox enters the range of my empathy, but I can tell it’s more adventurous, having seen its brethren approach unharmed. I split my focus to both, willing them to calm while also making them hungrier. The two foxes’ approach but as they converge on the single piece of meat, they snap at each other for the prize.

  I throw another piece of meat and will the two to calm, focusing on one at a time, so they’ll ignore each other. I can feel they’re still eying each other’s meal, but my magic skill is working. They’re more docile.

  Images of me walking through the forest willing animals to ignore me flash through my head, until I look at my mana pool and see the bar is almost empty. I still think there’s a use for this skill but considering how much energy it takes to make two foxes eat food, a natural biological drive they are programmed to do, I need to be much more conservative with the ability.

  Watching the foxes calms me, and knowing I’ll be gone tomorrow; I liberally share meat with them. At one point Morgana moves toward the nearest of the two, and both animals dash off into the night, leaving a cloud of dirt behind them.

  ‘They’re gone.’ Morgana whispers.

  “All things must end, but we can hold onto this peaceful moment,” I say smiling.