Thomas retreated to the comfort of the library. He had to get away from all the eyes. They bore into him like fangs into flesh. He could have taken refuge in his hut, but prioritized keeping his mind busy.

  There hadn’t been too many ekari around to bear witness to his reckless mistake, but he suspected by now at least half of the village knew. Some Summon he was turning out to be. Initially unable to wield his power, and within a day of unlocking it, he had severely injured someone.

  Thomas had wanted to apologize to the woman in question, but she was still spasming as the warriors carried her off to the infirmary. Short of following her to wait until she woke up, there wasn’t much he could do. Besides, making himself scarce felt like the best option for both him and the angry ekari.

  This idea to integrate him into the clan had always been a risky one, and many of the ekari were opposed to it. Injuring one of their own may give some the ammunition they need to justify killing him. After all, the Chief had been clear that they could not risk letting him go free, so expulsion from the village was out of the question.

  By making himself scarce, Thomas hoped the situation would settle down. If he’d stayed, he wouldn’t be surprised if at least a few ekari thought of attacking him, and based on his spar with Luran, he was still grossly outmatched even with his electricity power unlocked.

  He would apologize later when the moment was right—he just prayed that her injuries were not as severe as he feared. People died from excessive electricity exposure. He knew that all too well. If she sustained any long-term damage, he doubted an apology would do much. Turning around, he punched the wall in frustration, causing his knuckles to pulsate in complaint. How could he have been so reckless? Luran was infuriating, it was true, but his own behavior was utterly unjustified.

  He had told himself that he would not use electricity as a projectile, as it was far too risky given its abysmal accuracy. Yet what had he done? He’d used it as a projectile in spite of the risks. And to make matters worse, he’d used not one, but five! His drive to best Luran had consumed him to such a point that he’d been worse than reckless. He’d exhibited deliberate disregard for anyone other than himself. What a fool he’d been.

  And this wasn’t to mention the absurd amount of electricity he had cast. Thomas was yet to test just how strong his electricity was, but Akesh’s solemn words echoed heavily in his ear: “Every Summon we know of is immensely powerful. Far more than even our strongest warriors.” To conjure as much electricity as he had was the height of folly.

  For all he knew, it was enough to kill. Even if he hadn’t gone rogue and attacked a bystander, he could very well have ended Luran. Hypothetically speaking, of course. Their spar had made it abundantly clear that he was leagues below the warrior; Luran would never allow such a blow to land.

  Slumping to the ground, he buried his head in his knees. He was a danger to those around him—a ticking time bomb. This time, he’d got lucky. Next, he might get somebody killed. And he couldn’t have that.

  It surprised him to realize that he’d actually grown to admire the ekari. They burned with passion in a way that transcended humans, and their sense of community instilled a profound sense of purpose. One that drowned out all uncertainty—affirming to each person that they were on the right path. That they were living their destiny. Not somebody else's.

  Had his imposed destiny not been so alien and grand, he might have felt more certain that here was where he was supposed to be. “Might” being the key word. For as a human, he doubted whether he could ever truly integrate into their little village. Perhaps the best thing for everyone would be to leave. He could slip out under the cover of night, and the Chief’s curfew would prevent anyone from following.

  Of course, that meant surviving the nightspawn. And he had no illusions that he was incapable of standing against them in his current state. Maybe when he became stronger, he would revisit his options. For now, all he could do was learn and train, and hope this mighty slip-up wouldn’t be the end of him.

  Keeping to his self-imposed confinement to the library, he spent the next few hours reading through books, learning all he could about the monsters of the forest. There were thousands of beasts to learn, but he had to start somewhere.

  As expected, they were not all nightmarish—far from it. In fact, the vast majority appeared rather docile. Unusual in appearance, of course, given he was seeing them for the first time, but they didn’t intimidate him. In fact, he was keen to see many in the flesh, like a biologist eagerly tracking endangered species.

  Fortunately, most of the monsters in the book were covered in considerable detail. Each featured a double-page spread describing the appearance, behaviors, and use cases of their parts, but that wasn’t all. They each had an accompanying sketch too, for without it, he would only have words to go off of. He doubted that matching up the descriptions of monsters with their real-life forms were within his capabilities. There were just too many to remember.

  When he reached the point where his brain felt overloaded, he put the books back. No need to overexert himself, but he wouldn’t stay in the library and waste his time. No. He needed to train. The more he trained, the better he would understand his power. And in doing so, prevent himself from unintentionally hurting someone ever again.

  Opening the library door a crack, he peered out with an observing eye. The drama of his misstep had long died down by now, but he still wasn’t keen to walk around as if nothing had happened. He waited for a few minutes as footfall declined and took the opportunity to scuttle to his secluded training area.

  A few ekari looked up at him, but their faces evoked feelings of confusion rather than unease or fear, probably because it appeared as though he was up to no good.

  In the safety of his hidden training area, he let out a sigh of relief before centering himself. Time to better understand what he was capable of.

  Accuracy was his primary concern, given that it was to blame for his current predicament. Well. He was the one at fault. He wouldn’t be offloading the blame to an ability with no mind of its own. Yet it was an obstacle nonetheless, and one he would have to overcome.

  He shot bolt after bolt at the wall, aiming at a small eroded section near the middle. He never hit it—not even close. Even when he reduced his bolts to a minimal charge where they barely arced out of his hands, he found accuracy to be woeful.

  Before long, he stopped shooting, finding that his pool of essence was half-exhausted. Yet it didn’t matter; he had learned what he needed to. The takeaway: accuracy was bad, always. Not a poor trade-off for power, though. He just needed to find ways to get around it.

  Fortunately, he hadn’t come to the area unequipped. Last night's restlessness proved to be the perfect time to game plan how he might use this new power, and he’d come up with a few ideas to test. The first and least promising idea involved using a piece of leather he’d swiped from the tanner. It was easy enough to pinch, given she dried the pelts outside overnight. He made sure to cut a small section away with his sword rather than take the entire thing, so he doubted she would notice its absence.

  To begin, he formed a circle with his index finger and thumb and placed the strip of leather inside as a kind of lining. Given that leather was an insulator, he knew it reduced the flow of electricity. But by how much, he was unsure. Could he use the leather to repel its flow and, in doing so, redirect it? He very much doubted leather would have that strong an effect, but he wouldn’t know until he tried.

  Pointing a finger just behind the circular strip of leather, he fired off a bolt. The first went through the hole and struck the wall somewhat centrally, giving him a glimmer of hope. However, to his disappointment, on the second attempt, the bolt hit the leather directly, all but killing his theory. Experiment over. He couldn’t use insulators to redirect the flow of his electricity. Onto his next idea.

  The second experiment involved using a conductor. He’d kept the sword Luran lent to him on the promise he would only use it if absolutely necessary. He felt this situation fulfilled that criterion—they wanted him to get stronger, didn’t they?

  Running his fingers along the flat of the sword, he gave the tip a flick. A satisfying metallic ting trickled into his ears. He suspected the sword was made of steel, a well-known conductor. In any case, even if it wasn’t, most metals should conduct electricity well enough for this little test.

  Turning his attention to the handle, he peeled back the fabric on the grip, which revealed a wooden base. He had suspected as much. As an insulator, he’d have to refine this test.

  The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

  After racking his brain last night, he saw a clear flaw in combat that he could exploit with his newfound power. Swords are made of metal and would carry his electricity. He didn’t have to shoot electricity out of his hands or even touch his opponents; he could let his sword do all the work.

  The only hiccup was that most swords use handles made of wood and leather, notoriously poor conductors. Still, this could work. It was commonplace for swords to use guards to protect the wielder's hands. Thankfully, these were made of metal. This meant that if he electrified his sword, it would only take the faintest contact for the wielder’s hand to be touching the guard, and they would get zapped.

  Frankly, the strategy would be incredibly overpowered if it worked, and he couldn’t see a reason why it wouldn’t. He laughed to himself. His opponents had to block or attack. Either would be their undoing.

  He re-wound the leather around the wooden handle and gripped the sword, ensuring the top edge of his index finger was in contact with the guard before sending out a pulse of electricity. And sure enough, the electricity shot through the blade. He could feel it. He didn’t need someone on the other end to check for him. It seemed he wasn’t just able to generate electricity, but he could sense it too. Almost like feeling temperature, except that it felt alive.

  With the experiment a resounding success, he spent the next few hours sending electricity through all of the ion channels in his body. His arms proved second-nature, like he’d been using these channels ever since the day he was born, but others felt obstructed, like they were blocked by hardened sludge.

  He needed to pick away at these; only then would he be able to send electricity through them whenever he saw fit. In some ways, electricity felt like water. He would direct the flow of electricity through one gate, only for him to lose his control, causing it to divert down another.

  Nonetheless, training was progressing swimmingly, but he was soon interrupted by someone entering his secret training area.

  “Hey Tommy,” Krag boomed, speaking far too loudly. “How are you doing?”

  “How did you find me?” Thomas asked dismissively. Krag sat down on a small patch of grass and patted beside him, welcomingly. Sighing, Thomas joined him.

  “Is… she okay?” he asked, his tone timid, not making eye contact. Krag placed a hand on his back. No playful smack this time.

  “She’s fine,” he said. “Just a little sore. She wanted to leave the infirmary, but Fiyari made her stay for the rest of the day. You know Fiyari, right? The healer.” Thomas closed his eyes in relief and massaged his temples.

  “You know I didn’t mean to, right Krag? I was only sparring with Luran and I—”

  “I know,” he comforted. “Don’t be so hard on yourself. You just need to be more careful. You think I always knew how to swing a war club?” he posed.

  “Umm, well, no. I guess not.”

  “Exactly. No one is expecting you to get this right away. Besides, I had people to teach me. I’m just sad there’s nobody to teach you.”

  “Thanks, buddy. I wish there was someone to teach me, too.”

  Krag rose to his feet, hands on his hips.

  “I may not be a teacher, but I’m an excellent training partner,” he declared. “I can help you train!”

  “Help me train? And how do you intend on doing that?”

  “Well, shoot some electricity at me, of course?”

  “Shoot some electricity at you?!” Thomas hissed. “Are you mad?! Have you forgotten what I just did? Not a moment ago, you said I should be more careful!”

  “Relax,” Krag argued, waving a dismissive hand. “I can take it.”

  “You’ve lost your mind,” Thomas said, perplexed. “You’ve lost your damn mind! And what makes you think you can take it?”

  “Safka is puny! Look at the size of her. She’s a wimp! Everyone knows it. Now look at me,” Krag said, hitting various poses, accentuating his muscular build that towered over him. Thomas swatted at the air with his hand, dumbfounded by Krag’s stupid idea. Against his better judgment, he sized up the ekari, considering his proposal.

  Krag was a freak of nature that looked like a cross between a bodybuilder and a linebacker. He hated that Krag was right, but if there was any among the ekari that could take a shock from him, it was most certainly him. Thomas slumped where he sat. He had to test his electricity on someone sooner or later. And right now, he had both a willing test subject and the most capable to take a shock in the entire village.

  “Look. If I do this. We do it my way. One. We start with the measliest electric charge I can muster and build up slowly. If the pain gets too bad, we stop. No exceptions. And two. Luran must never know. He would have my head for this,” he said, staring vacantly, imagining the punishment Luran would dish out if they were uncovered.

  Krag smiled playfully like a child who was about to break the rules.

  “You worry too much,” Krag said, slapping him on the shoulder. Sighing, Thomas rose to his feet.

  “Put out your hand,” he instructed. “We’ll do this via skin contact. I’ve come to learn that shooting electricity is hard to direct, not to mention taxing. If I have to shoot electricity at you, we’ll be here all day.” Krag obliged, extending a hand.

  This was nothing like before. If he started with a meager output, there was no chance he would hurt Krag. He wasn’t taking a risk here. At least, not with Krag’s safety. The only risk was Luran discovering what they were doing, and back here, that wasn’t going to happen. He may have a keen eye, but even he had his limits.

  Thomas stood an arm’s length from Krag and judiciously collected what little ions existed in his arm. Even pooled together, they seemed fleeting. Like a dying flame that promised to disappear at the faintest breath of wind. He expected such electricity would be imperceptible to Krag, but he had to start somewhere, and this was the safest point.

  Touching Krag’s hand with his index finger, he opened the ion gate, allowing the ions to rush through into their new host. The second they made contact, they fizzled out. He glanced at Krag, who was looking at their hands. Evidently, Krag hadn’t realized that he had started. Good. This was good. Time to build from here.

  Over the next few minutes, he cautiously started upping the voltage, resolute that he would prioritize Krag’s safety above all. Yet after each surge of electricity, Krag stood unfazed. He even started picking his nose at one point, and abruptly stopped when Thomas noticed.

  “What’s the hold up, Tommy? Having trouble?”

  “No, Krag, I’m just being cautious, is all. We’re on round six now. I’ll give this one a bit more of a bump.” Seeing no reactions to past surges, he saw no risk in doubling the output, and fired off a charge.

  “How was that? Feel anything?” Krag scratched his chin and shrugged his shoulders.

  “Umm, maybe? It’s kind of difficult to tell.” Strange. He was sure Krag would have felt that one.

  “Okay then. How about this?” The resulting surge was triple that of the one prior and careened through the ion gate and into Krag. The hulking man laughed.

  “Haha, that tickles!” he said, scratching his finger. Thomas scrunched his brow. He was expecting that one to hurt, even for someone as tough as Krag. No matter, he thought, shaking away the confusion, he had plenty more where that came from.

  “Alright then, tough guy,” he sneered. “Let's see what you think of this one.” He suspected a 4x from a tickle had to incite pain, so that’s what he opted for. The reaction was almost the same. Krag laughed and asked for more. Puzzled, he withdrew his hand from Krag.

  “What’s the matter?” Krag asked. “We’ve only just started.”

  Thomas remained silent, too busy thinking, sizing up the charge he just shot off. It was pretty substantial. With the multiplying outputs, they’d worked their way up to what he imagined was enough electricity to stun a man. At least momentarily. Yet here Krag stood, oblivious to reality. Keen to learn more, he switched up his strategy.

  “I can’t believe these voltages are little more than a tickle to you. I want to get to the bottom of how much electricity you can take before you're incapacitated. But it relies on you telling me when we reach that point. Can you do that?”

  “Sure!” Krag assured. “Easy-peasy. But your little electricity ain’t taking me down!” he grinned defiantly, cracking his knuckles.

  “Yes. Yes. You’re very tough,” Thomas laughed. “This time round, I’m going to leave the ion gate open. This means there is going to be a constant flow of electricity. It should help me pinpoint the right voltage and save us a bunch of time. However, it is a little more dangerous, so be sure to tell me exactly when I output the right voltage. Don’t delay. Got it?”

  Krag raised his thumb and adopted a somewhat manic smile, which incited a rather concerned reaction from Thomas. It was entirely possible this guy was mad.

  Touching Krag’s hand once more, he cast his ion gate open and allowed electricity to flood through it. He’d never tried outputting a constant stream of electricity before, and he imagined it was very draining, so he couldn’t afford to be tentative.

  Beginning at the charge they had left off with, he began rapidly increasing the voltage. His eyes never left Krag, as he didn’t trust the giant to call it quits if he was at breaking point. As Thomas approached another quadrupling of voltage, staggeringly, Krag remained unfazed. He pushed further, but was soon alarmed to find that his essence was dangerously low—he didn’t have much more to give.

  Frustrated, he manifested every spark of electricity he could, almost ten times his previous output. It rushed into the ekari as fast as sunlight, rattling the ion gate as it did so. Krag let out a muted yelp and shook his hand back and forth in pain. Realizing he was showing weakness, he quickly put his hand back.

  “I mean, umm. That was nothing, haha. Didn’t feel a thing.”

  Forcing a smile, Thomas once again withdrew his hand and plonked himself down in resignation. That was all he had. Every last bit of electricity he could generate. And all it earned him was a half-hearted yelp. He didn’t know why. He knew he was capable of more. Injuring the ekari warrior this very morning was a testament to that. As was the first emergence of his power when he was restrained by the villagers, but he couldn’t ignore the cold, hard reality.

  For whatever reason, his true power evaded him, and with it the minor protection that he needed. He had to get to the bottom of this. And fast.