After a miserable year for Teclos, since he gained his third circle, things were finally looking up again.

  At first he was excited—so excited he didn't sleep a wink that first night. He told his parents and friends all about how much of a genius he was. Although he bragged a lot, being a nuisance, he was also getting complimented by everyone. The village chief, Brahm, personally congratulated him on his achievement; it was that big of a deal. Talmir and Saldia were ecstatic, and his friends Gillard and Ralph pushed themselves to compete with him. Both boys soon achieved two circles and were well on their way to their third.

  But that was beside the point, because after three days of praise, he wasn't excited anymore. Not because he suddenly had enough of the attention—but because of the panic building up inside him.

  After three days, he realized that what kept him up at night, what made him sleepless—

  Was the third circle.

  His sensory perception had enhanced so much that he couldn't sleep anymore. The bugs, animals, wind, the ground, even Saldia's and Talmir's breathing at night—he could feel everything in a ten meter radius. During the day it was less pronounced. Not by much, but for him it was the difference between heaven and hell.

  For the first half of the year, he basically slept during the daytime, and whenever night came around he would wake up with a curse.

  "God dammit! Am I a vampire or what?!"

  Talmir tried to teach him a hyper-focus mana technique with small success—meaning Teclos could at least sleep during the day, but at night nothing changed.

  The technique was simple in theory: now that he had the third circle in his mind, he could push his mana and mind to focus on one thing, basicly entering a state Ascendance—or so Talmir thought. A false hope that his son was a miracle genius, as doing such a thing took years of practice and a high level of mana control. Even Talmir couldn't do it.

  Although limited, Teclos could at least blot out some of his perception. That in itself was already a huge achievement.

  But of course that wasn't enough. So Talmir reluctantly went over to Father Pella to ask for help.

  Talmir and Pella had a long history; one could even say they were teacher and student. Naturally, Talmir was a little afraid of Father Pella, even though that man was loved by the whole village.

  Teclos whispered,

  "Do you think he'll be mad?"

  Talmir replied, nervously.

  "No… probably… maybe try not to breathe too loudly in his presence."

  After they arrived at the church and tried to explain the situation, the old priest didn't even let Talmir finish before sighing heavily.

  "Bring the boy here," Pella said, rubbing his temples. "Before his brain implodes into madness."

  A little later, Teclos stood awkwardly in the small prayer hall, arms crossed and eyes half-sunken from exhaustion. Pella eyed him like he was inspecting a cracked pot.

  "So," Pella grunted, "you gained a third circle… and instead of enlightenment, you gained insomnia. Well, fine. This old priest will help you, since your father is useless."

  "I'm standing right here, teacher…" Talmir muttered.

  He threw a sharp glare toward Talmir.

  "Yes. Unfortunately."

  Teclos groaned. "Father Pella, I can hear the worms in the ground moving at night. The worms. I didn't even know worms made noise. I can feel everything."

  "That's why I brought him," Talmir added. "He's… uh… struggling."

  "Struggling?" Pella snorted. "He looks worse than a raccoon without sleep. Why would you wait so long to bring him here? It's been half a year since he reached the mind circle… If this were the old times I'd have slapped you, boy."

  Talmir recoiled and cleared his throat. "Khm—Father… what can we do to help him? I already tried the hyper-focus method."

  "I can hear raccoons too…" Teclos muttered deliriously.

  Pella gave him a flat stare. "Child, it's going to be all right. See, Talmir, that's the problem with you—you're stupid like a rock. You seriously taught him a long-term method that only swordmasters or archmages can learn? And you thought this would help?"

  If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

  Shrinking back, Talmir shut up.

  "You will get used to your senses eventually, lad," Pella continued. "But for now I will treat this with my life mana. After that, every day you must reduce your mana to zero through training and slinging spells around. You'll collapse from exhaustion, but at least you'll sleep normally again."

  Talmir tried to hide his smile now that he saw a way out, but failed, earning another sharp glare from Pella.

  "And you," Pella pointed at him, "I take my eyes off you for a few years and you somehow raise a son who jumps into the third circle like he's tripping over a tree root. What were you thinking? You should have told him to wait."

  "I—I wasn't thinking anything, master. It just happened."

  "Oh, I know you weren't thinking," Pella grumbled. "But now I have to deal with your problems. Again."

  Although they were teacher and student, their relationship was closer to father and son.

  He turned back to Teclos.

  "Sit."

  Teclos sat.

  Pella crouched in front of him, placing two fingers against Teclos's temples, infusing mana into him and calming him.

  "Now listen, boy. When we make three circles we usually go for the body twice first and leave the mind for later. Because once the circles connect, they give off a stronger reaction than before. You should have felt it when you made the second or third circle, right?"

  Teclos hesitated. "…Maybe? I did, yes?"

  "You definitely did. Your useless father failed to mention the consequences, but yes basicly the connection reinforces your circles and makes them stronger. Usually that's good—except we match circles at level three, not level one, so the body has time to adapt."

  "So… I broke myself by accident?"

  "Yes," Pella replied almost proudly. "Impressively so."

  "Please stop scaring him," Talmir said.

  "I'm not scaring him," Pella scoffed. "I'm informing him. You know—basic parenthood."

  "I told you he'd help," Talmir muttered to Teclos.

  Pella shot him another withering look.

  "I am helping you by preventing your son from going insane. You owe me a jug of that blackberry wine you hide under your house."

  Talmir stiffened. "…Not the blackberry one. That's the expensive one. You know that's for special occasions."

  "Yes," Pella replied. "Exactly."

  Then he placed both palms on Teclos's temples again.

  "All right, lesson is over for now. I'll purge your mana so you can finally sleep. Remember what we talked about, and come see me again tomorrow evening."

  Teclos nodded.

  Pella's palms shone with a golden hue, purging the excess mana from Teclos. The boy collapsed instantly, asleep before he could even hit Pella's robes.

  "…Light preserve me. He sleeps like a stunned goat."

  Turning to Talmir, Pella shook his head and beckoned him toward his office.

  "Come, boy. Let's talk."

  Cold sweat ran down Talmir's back as he silently obeyed.

  Once inside, Pella gestured for him to sit, then sighed. "Your son is quite the talented young lad. Far from my least promising student—unlike you, my foolish-son."

  The look he gave Talmir said 'where did I go wrong with you', making Talmir scratch his head in discomfort.

  "Teacher, may I ask something?" Pella raised an eyebrow. "You examined his body again—can you tell me if he's all right? How much strain was he under? Please tell me bluntly."

  "He's fine," Pella said. "Luckily he purged some mana daily by instinct. If it had built up, he could have suffered mana reflux—reverse flow—damaging his body, possibly killing him. That's why I scolded you so much."

  Silence hung in the air.

  "And he just needs to release mana daily until he collapses from exhaustion? Meaning… he'll be fine?"

  "Yes. Don't worry. Matching circles is originally a good thing; it was just too early for his body. With training and spell practice, by the time he reaches the third circle properly, he may match them again without side effects."

  "Phew…" Talmir leaned back in relief. "That boy is going to be the death of me."

  Pella burst into laughter. "Hahaha! Now you know how I felt raising a stubborn fool like you."

  "Come on, Father, I wasn't that bad, was I?"

  "Bah! You brought the whole thieves' guild from Lupos to my church's door! I had to cave their faces in for being violent on my sacred ground!"

  One could easily believe this old man was just a friendly priest. But he had once been a paladin of the Dawn Church. His life magic wasn't used to harm people—his fists and morning star handled that.

  "You were a troublesome boy until you met Saldia. Anyway, pick up the lad and carry him home. Tomorrow morning you two will start the brutal regimen I gave you when you were fourteen."

  Talmir's eyes widened. "Is that really all right? He's only eleven."

  "Those are great years for that training! His body will adapt as he grows." There was no dissuading the old priest. "And bring him to me every night for a year so I can purge his mana, if he has any and let him sleep. By the end of that year he should adapt, and I can stop. Now don't forget the wine. Off you go—I'm tired of seeing your face today."

  The next day started early. Talmir woke just as the sun crested the horizon and changed into hunting gear. He was planning on taking Teclos's mana and spells, so caution was necessary.

  After gearing up, he went into Teclos's room and gently shook him awake.

  "All right, let's get this day started. Also, don't tell your mother what Pella said. We don't want to worry her now that everything will be all right."

  Yawning, Teclos stood. "Okay, Dad… but why are we starting so early?"

  "It's Father Pella's instructions. And you'll need to focus—this training will be harder than anything you've done before."

  Teclos suddenly had a very bad feeling. He almost wanted to run away—even though he was known as a training addict by his friends.

  After drinking some tea and eating a quick breakfast of eggs, they stepped outside for their first training. Talmir carried pity in his gaze; Teclos wore a determined expression.

  The sun had barely begun to burn a pale line over the horizon when Talmir led Teclos toward the riverbank. Dawn clung to the world in a cold mist, and each step through the wet grass sent a chill up Teclos's legs.

  "Dad… why are we walking to the river?" Teclos asked warily.

  Talmir didn't answer. He only sighed—the kind of sigh that told Teclos something terrible was about to happen.

  They reached the water's edge. It looked like liquid frost.

  "All right, strip down to your underpants," Talmir said.

  Teclos's jaw dropped. "W-What?!"

  "For the start of today's training we will shock your body awake."

  "Pella wants me to freeze to death?"

  "No," Talmir replied, though he didn't sound convinced. "He wants you to jump in."

  Before Teclos could protest, Talmir gave him a firm shove.

  He hit the water with a splash and a scream.

  "AAAAH—WHAT IN THE LIVING HELL?! IT'S FREEZING!"

  "That's the point!" Talmir called. "Stay in for sixty seconds!"

  "I CAN'T FEEL MY ARMS AND LEGS!"

  "That means it's working!"

  By the time Teclos staggered out of the river, he was shaking uncontrollably and muttering curses under his breath, but he was awake—sharply, painfully awake. Talmir handed him a towel.

  "All right, now do ten push-ups and go back in. Once you come out, do twenty push-ups."

  Teclos was flabbergasted but couldn't complain at the very start already. After he finished—in about an hour of this torture—Talmir pointed toward the forest path.

  "You're going to run now. Toward that hill."

  Teclos looked down the narrow trail twisting between the pines. "How long is it?"

  "…Long."

  "Dad."

  "Ten kilometers."

  "But I'm eleven!"

  "You're also a third-circle mage."

  "That doesn't cancel out the eleven!"

  Talmir patted him on the back. "Breathing pattern. Three steps inhale, three steps exhale. Keep it steady, and on every exhale push mana through your feet for a boost. If your mana runs out, just run normally."

  They began to jog. Cold air stabbed Teclos's lungs, and with every stride his senses exploded with noise—the scuttle of insects under bark, the distant rustle of a fox, even the steady thump of his father's heartbeat. But as he forced himself to keep the breathing rhythm and push his mana out, the noise dulled. Not gone, but quieter. Bearable.

  Just when he felt a flicker of confidence, they reached the hill. It rose steep and cruel above them.

  Talmir dragged a heavy cloth sack from behind a stump and dropped it at Teclos's feet.

  A dull, awful thud followed.

  "…It's full of rocks," Teclos said flatly.

  "Mostly sand," Talmir corrected. "Up you go."

  "Haha… I'm going to die, aren't I?"

  Teclos hoisted the sandbag with a strangled groan and began the climb. Every step burned. Every grain inside the bag scraped against his sharpened senses. Sweat stung his eyes, and the hill seemed endless.

  But he kept going.

  And finally—breath ragged, legs trembling—Teclos dragged himself over the crest.

  As he finally climbed the hill, Talmir was already waiting for him there and had the next exercise ready for him.

  That's when he realized it's going to be a long day ahead of him.