Lament of a Noble Born

“I'm going to be a ranger Silly!”

Oh my god...

“It'll be all thwap! Swish! Slash! Oh no its Ranger Noly! We're doomed! That's right it is I, the Hero Ranger Noly here to stop your evil ways!”

Three weeks since mentor’s day, and Noly will not shut the hell up about being a ranger. Apparently, that whole pitch to her was legitimate. She went there with her parents and walked out the newest trainee of the Farstriders.

Not a full Ranger mind you. Noly was a trainee, a rank just below recruit. Noly is basically going to go through a fantasy ROTC for the next several years to get her in shape to become a proper ranger recruit.

Most days after class she would rush off to the local lodge to begin her lesions. Some of them seem a bit brutal if I’m being honest with myself. She’s already come back twice with black and blues on her arms and a sore wrist. Whenever I asked her about it, she’d just say it was ‘ranger’ stuff.

Child abuse aside, she seemed to like it. After class, on the walk home, she’d get into this playfight mode. Swinging her arms and legs with abandon. Knocking over a fair few things, and hitting a number of people, along the way. All the while narrating thrilling adventures she was ‘on’. It was all, dragon this and fair maiden that. Honestly, she had her head in the clouds.

As for me, I’ve been immersed into my own little world as of late.

Without warning I felt Noly’s hand club my elbow. I jolted in momentary pain, the book almost slipping from my grasp onto the ground.

“Hey!”

“Sorry!” She quickly apologized.

I spent most of my time at home, and in class, glued to the book Firebrook left. And with the Arcane Light spell, I could read and practice well into the wee hours of the night. It honestly amazes me how easy it was to pick up this stuff.

She kept play fighting; of course

I managed to tune her out around the point she started to babble about ‘saving the fair-haired maiden’ by ‘winning her hand in a duel with the evil count’, or something along those lines.

Back to my own little world.

By this point, I had run out of techniques I could practice safely at home.

Maybe it was just an elf thing, or a me thing, but I get the impression that I should not be having this easy of a time. The whole 'do not strain yourself with more than one orb at a time for the drain of mana can be taxing on a young mage's mana pool' tells me as much. That probably means that my 'seven orbs up at the same time for an hour' isn't quite normal.

I was already on a second book the magister sent my way.

This one had far more energy intensive exercises to work with. They were also far more dangerous to do in an enclosed area. Such as emitting arcane energy from your body to push something away or directing the orbs of arcane energy into pseudo arcane missiles. The book even said 'Perform in an open area' with a deep line of red ink under the words.

So of course, I tried them in my room. The other exercises were said to be taxing but I felt fine doing them.

The book is just over exaggerating, I mused.

How hard could it be, I asked myself.

One broken window and two mild scorch marks on the ceiling later, I was willing to admit that maybe I should try these exercises outside.

But the question was where?

I lived in a city, along a main road in and out of said city. Where could I train where my miss casts or miss fires would not accidentally hit anything or anyone?

That being said, there was the other issue. One of the instructions I've found in both texts still makes me raise an eyebrow. Namely that novices should be practicing with a little clothing on as possible. Preferably they should wear no clothing at all except for a small amount of mana silk if they ‘must’ wear something.

The book gave me several very scientific sounding reasons: 'disruption of the general flow of mana, increased chance of miscasting with encumbered mana expenditure', 'overabundance of non-magical conducting non-organic material', and 'disintegration of non-mana conductive apparel'. My favorite was 'loss of body parts because of garbing oneself in non-mana conductive apparel during teleportation'.

Granted, I always wondered why mages wore so little clothing, or wore such flimsy clothing, but all this just sounds like an over done excuse for people to justify their exhibitionist streaks.

My answer came from Mom. Ignoring her following comment about how cute my cheeks look when I’m thinking, she told me of a place that would be perfect for me to train in: a small clearing in the Eversong Forest. It was off the beaten path and only a short distance from the city. It had nice trees I could rest under, a little pond to cool off in, and very isolated.

I asked her how she knew about it. With a straight face, she told me that if no one heard the screams of the men she brought there from time to time, then no one would hear or bother me.

So, I was off, to the spot where Mom apparently had sex with people. How predictable.

–

After a twenty-minute walk, I found the spot Mom mentioned. True to her word, it was off the beaten path. Isolated but not that far from the main road. More importantly, it was free from any prying eyes.

The clearing was quite serene. Big, white barked trees with thick roots weaving in and out of the ground. Smooth stones that made for impromptu seats. A small clear pond nestled under the red leaves of the trees. It was beautiful.

Now that I found the place, it was time for me to slip out of my clothes. The thought of being outside nude made my cheeks burn. While I had always wondered why mages never wore anything more protective than a soft robe, I just wrote it off as 'mage glass cannon' and left it at that.

I put the book down on the smooth rocks. Following that, I quickly slipped out of my shoes and placed them to the side. I ringed my toes in the soft grass. Far different sensation than the smooth stone that covered the city.

It actually felt…nice.

On to the next part, I mused. My fingers began to do away with the buttons for my shirt. Moments later, it slid effortlessly off my small frame. My breasts were still too small for any bra or bindings, so my chest was bare for the world to see. A gust of cool hit me, causing my nipples to harden. I shivered at the sensation.

After gathering my breath, and thoughts, I folded my shirt carefully before placing it next to my shoes.

One half down, I mused. One to go.

My hands gripped the helm of my shorts. With one fluid motion, the garb went down my legs.

Next was the hard part.

I griped the helm of my small clothes. With nervous energy, these too fell down my legs, pooling with my shorts around my ankles. I almost hopped out of the clothes piled at my feet. It felt, strange being outside nude. Almost tempting something to see me. But, to my own relief, it seemed like I really was alone. I gathered up my shorts and small clothes, folded them up nicely, and placed them next to my other apparel.

Arriving by the pond, I involuntarily shudder at my own reflection, a nubile elf girl with rosy red cheeks.

For the next few minutes all I did was stand there. Taking in the sounds around me. The breeze that caressed my skin. The very real possibility that at any moment, someone could come by and see me nude. It was very different from practicing at home.

After coming to terms with my own nudity, I sat down and opened the book. I flipped to the page I left off on: Arcane Orbs. Less powerful versions of an arcane missile and a step up from the Arcane Lights I had been making until now. A softball to the arcane missile's rock. Weak as it was, it still impacted with a bit of force. Not enough to break the skin, according to the text.

Yet enough to break a window, I mused.

Sighing, I started to channel my mana. Like always it started as a flickering blue light. Then, it condensed slowly into a more solid light; though I could still tell it was transparent to a degree. Finally, the new part of the orb creation for this exercise, solidify it. I had my blue-white orb morph from a soft glowing orb into a semi solid one. No bigger than my fist, it remained stationary in front of my face.

The whole process took three seconds.

So far so good.

Next part of the exercise, manipulate the orb near the mage.

I felt my mana grasp the orb and move it in an orbit around my head. The closest comparison I could make to the sensation was trying to hold something drenched in oil. It was slippery and felt like it was straining in my grasp. Too little force on it, the orb would lose cohesion and shatter. Nothing serious, more like setting off a flare in your eyes then a small bomb. Too much force and it would slip from my grasp like a wet bar of soap and fly uncontrollable until it either hit something or ran out of mana.

It felt like any break in concentration would make it slip away. So, I have to move it slowly. Steadily. No sudden motions. I watched in awe as the orb obeyed by command, gliding silently around me. It felt therapeutic, just watching it laze about.

A soft breeze hit my body, causing me to yet again shiver unconsciously from the contact. I felt my nipples grow hard. Thinking back, maybe I should try and find some mana silk to wear at least if-

My momentary thought broke my concentration. My grip on the orb weakened and I felt it begin to fade. I tightened by grip reflexively to compensate, only to overdo it. The orb jerked to a stop. It strained under my hold, both weakened and strengthened simultaneously over the course of a millisecond. Shaking violently in place as the opposing forces clashed.

Then it slipped from my grasp and flew! Shooting straight into the branches above. Twigs, branches, and leaves rustled along its path. Birds scattered to avoid it. A glassy pop signaled its impact and destruction.

Damn it! I swore, rushing to the tree in question. Looking up I saw a branch that seems to have had its trunk chipped off. The last resting place of my orb. I placed my hand on the tree trunk. While a failure, this had been the longest time I held onto the orb before it flew off or just fizzled out. Granted, I had only done this four times; one shattering in my grasp, and three flying off in my room.

But progress was progress!

I groaned, nothing better to do than start again.

Walking back to my spot, I looked at the page to start again.

Starting again, from the top.

–

Over the next few days followed a similar pattern. Class in the morning. Training in the afternoon. Reading in the evening. A simple routine, but I felt my progress skyrocket.

Four days on, and I could now properly control the arcane orb. Whereas a week ago I was strained just having one thing float around me, now I could comfortably control three at a time. Four if I focused. The tiniest break of on my hold no longer sent the orb careening off into the distance or shattering before my eyes. I'd learned how to subtly correct myself without overdoing it. After many failures naturally.

And boy did fail! The very scenery has been transformed by my failures. Bushes had holes in them from where orbs would fly through them. Trees had patches of missing bark as orb impacts blew off the top layer of wood. And I'm pretty sure that one rock wasn't supposed to have a fist sized scorch mark on its surface.

Additionally, it turns out I can get fatigued from doing the exercises too many times in a row. Not mana fatigue though. I looked it up in the book and apparently that comes with a lot more symptoms than just feeling exhausted or having a headache. Headaches and the like are a symptom of overexerting my mind in spell casting, rather than depleting my mana. Mana exhaustion is quite a bit worse. It includes, but not limited to: chills, cold sweats, uncontrollable twitching, and muscle spasms to name a few of the wonderful effects.

Naturally, this meant I couldn't just blitz through the text anymore. Future exercises would be more mentally taxing, so I had to stop and take breaks.

Work for two hours? Take thirty minutes off.

Taking off my clothes, it was honestly surprising just how well adjusted I had become to the prospect of being outside nude. I mean the constant thrill was still there, but it just kind of worked through it more easily. Still, I always looked around a bit before fully taking off everything. Can't be too careful.

Satisfied I was alone, I removed the last bits of apparel on me. Placing my clothes snugly in a little area away from my training, I set about the newest exercise that has me stumped: having the arcane orbs orbit myself while I moved.

You'd think that it would be about the same difficulty as the previous activity. And it was if the orbs were stationary. Meaning, I moved, but they stayed anchored at the same point away from me. That was easy. This was another beast entirely.

If moving the orbs when I'm stationary was akin to holding something drenched in oil, moving while the orbs were also moving was like tossing an oily ball between your hands. It's easier for me to lose control.

The bird nest I accidentally obliterated the other day was evidence of that.

With a deep breath, I formed the orbs first. Whereas before I had to concentrate to give them form, it felt second nature to me now. Hell, I can even create them without paying attention.

Okay, I prepped myself, let’s do this.

As I took my first step, I began to pull the orb to float around me.

Left foot, right foot.

Each step was careful and methodical.

Left foot, right foot.

Even if it was just walking forward, I could feel the strain trying to keep the orb under control.

Left foot, right foot.

It made me wonder how mages can wiz across the battlefield; teleporting, shooting off arcane missiles, and throwing fireballs abound. How much stress were they under?

Left foot, right foot.

Or did it just become easier as they grew into their powers? I mean, some of the stuff I do easily now was a pain to do just a week ago. Maybe a similar thing but on a grander scale?

Left foot, right foot.

Maybe it does get-

Snap.

Wait what was that?

In an instant, my concentration was broken. I lost control of the orb. It flew into the air. I tried to reach out to it, to reel it back in, but all I did was make it jackknife right into the ground. A satisfying thud, the sound of a glass ball shattering, and a small shower of soil flew up from the impact site.

“Damn it, not again,” I swore aloud.

Before I could focus on what went wrong, I heard, something. From the same direction as that sound that broke my concentration. A thud and a girlish squeak.

I whipped my head to its source.

It was a young girl flat on her butt. She was older than me, maybe a year or two at most. Long black hair contrasted the simple white robe she was wearing. Little smudges of dirt clung to the edges by her feet. A small brown satchel laid next to her on her lap. Her eyes were glued to me.

“Hey, are you okay?” I walked over to her.

The girl didn't reply, but when she saw me come over, she squeaked again. She pulled up her robe's hood and buried her face into her knees. When I reached her, I noticed that her legs were nervously shifting about. I knelt and craned my head to an angle I could see her under the hood. Even then, she refused to meet my gaze.

She muttered something under her breath again.

“Is something wrong?” I put my hand on her shoulder. Her whole body twitched at the contact. Maybe she was just shy? Embarrassed that she was caught spying on someone? “Are you okay?”

She spoke again. It was still unintelligible, but I did catch her say “you” at some point.

“What are you saying? Can you speak up a little, it’s really hard to hear you.”

I heard her mumble again, “I.....Sorry....you..”

I sighed, “Look I'm not mad. You just startled me. I was practicing some magic and- look if you're upset that I swore, I didn't mean it. Really. I- It was just the heat of the moment thing. I'm sorry if I upset you.”

“No....”

“No? No what?”

She squirmed more, “Not that.”

Not that?

The girl looked up to meet my eyes. Now that I had a good look, her face off that vibe of a child transition to a teenager. Still had some baby fat, but her face looked less pudgy then my own. Her cheeks were a rosy red. She raised a finger and pointed to me, “I'm sorry because....you're...”

Before I could respond, the wind picked up and blew across the clearing. As the wind hit me, I felt a involuntary jolt go down my spine as the breeze brushed up against my bare skin.

My bare skin.

Bare skin....

I looked down at myself. Indeed, I had yet to put on anything since I was training. In the position I was in, it gave the girl an unobstructed view of my nude form. Looking at each other, we exchanged a pair of owlish faces. I felt my face heat up.

Huh, how about that.....

Now it was my turn to squeak. I shot up and ran to my clothes behind the tree, vainly trying to preserve any dignity that I had left. Trying, and failing, to ignore the fact that I basically gave a complete stranger an unobstructed look at me and DIDN'T EVEN REALIZE IT! I raced to put my clothes on. Didn't even bother to put my small clothes back on as I threw my shorts on. I even hit my elbow against the tree trunk in the flurry of motion as I put on my shirt, causing me to retch a bit in pain.

All the while, I heard the girl repeat, almost like a chat, “I'm sorry!”

–

After some time of us awkwardly sitting adjacent from one another in silence, I finally broke the ice. Then after her apologizing for the unknown number of times, we started talking.

Her name is Cerrea Whitecloud, twelve years old, and priestess in training at a nearby chapel of the Light. Following in the footsteps of her mother and father, she was training to become a priest. The training, however, is stressful. Not just the spiritual aspect, calling on the Light I mean, but also the practical education: basic knowledge of herbs and alchemy, how to provide first aid without having to call on the healing powers of the Light, memorizing holy texts and rites. It was intense.

So, for the last few months, she used this little clearing as a place to meditate when she has free time. To clear her head.

And I just happen to be here when she came over today.

So, awkward as we were an hour ago, we got a pretty good conversation going. She told me a bit about her life, I told her about mine. Cerrea would talk about her friends at the chapel. I told her about my friend at classes. She told me about her hobbies. I told her about my enjoyment of reading.

She might start off a little quiet, but once she gets talking, she quite the lively person. Not a motor mouth like Noly, but a nice conversation partner regardless.

“So, what is it like?” I asked, my initial hesitation on talking to her now overridden by sheer curiosity.

“What's 'what' like?” Cerrea tilted her head, confused at where I was going.

“The Light,” I clarified, a shuffled a little closer to her. “I mean, does it feel different from arcane magic?”

She was quite for a moment. Then shook her head, “I don't think I can answer that. I've never used arcane magic.”

“Really?”

“Really,” she nodded. Cerrea though for a moment before continuing, “How about I can tell you what it feels like to channel the Light, and you can tell me what it feels like to use arcane magic?”

“Okay,” I agreed. “Do you want to go first?”

“Sure.” She took a moment to think of how to describe the Light. “I haven't really been channeling the Light for a long time, just a year. But, whenever I call on the Light, it feels like a warm blanket is on me.”

“A warm blanket?”

She nodded, “Yes, a warm blanket. It makes me feel like all my worries and fears aren't as bad as I think they are. Like I can relax and not worry about the bad things in the world and focus more on the good things. So, like, when I practice healing someone at the Chapel, I'm able to focus not on how bad the injury is, but how I can make it better. Does that make any sense?”

No. “Kind of.”

She giggled, “yeah, it's hard to put into words. It's really something you need to feel to understand. But now it’s your turn. What does it feel like using arcane magic?”

I hummed, thinking about it. “It's like trying to hold onto something oily.”

“Oily?”

“Yeah, oily. Like, everything I do is trying to hold onto whatever it is I'm casting. If I don't pay attention, then at any moment it could slip out of my fingers.”

“But it seemed like you had everything under control before I-” she stopped short. I could tell her cheeks were reddening again. “It looks like you were okay earlier. You made it look easy.”

I snorted, “it only looks easy because this is really basic stuff. Just basic exercises to hone my concentration. For example,” I held my hand up and created an arcane light between us. While I didn't feel the same level of connection I would feel to the orb without my clothes on, I was confident enough in my ability to control this particular spell to not have it go off like a flare in our eyes. Cerrea seemed entranced by its blue glow. “Something like this is easy. But it's just a light.”

“Maybe, for you. But it's more than could do when I was your age,” she countered. Holding her own hand out, a soft gold light began to emanate from it. “This took me a whole year of work. And even then, it’s not that powerful. I can only heal little scrapes and bruises.”

“My light can only make light.”

“But you're just starting, and you're doing it under your own power. Priests need to channel the Light through prayer and belief to use our powers.”

“Want to hang up your white robes and become a mage then?” I joked.

She gave me smile, “tempting, but I'm fine with being a priest.”

We laughed at my lame attempt at a joke.

“I mean it though,” she said suddenly, “you're way better than I was when dealing with magic. My mother had to drag me to my classes because I was so bored in them. Yet here you are learning on your own. That's really impressive.”

I blushed a bit at the praise. It seemed natural for me to work my butt off to learn this stuff, but then again, I was a college graduate living my second life. I'm pretty sure I was a monster at ten in my first life.

Cerrea looked up at the sun's angle, “it's getting late, I need to head back now. Otherwise, I'll be late for afternoon prayer.” She got up, dusting the dirt off her robe. Looking down, she offered me her hand and gave me a bright smile, “so, see you next time?”

I smiled and took it, she helped hoist me up, “sure, see you next time.”

–

The next week followed the same pattern as before. The only deviation was that now every once and awhile Cerrea would show up. Not as dramatically as the first time, of course. We divided the whole clearing in half. I would do my exercises on my side, which had ample amounts of vegetation for cover and obstructions, and she could meditate on her side. After we finished our respective things, we would talk for a while. I think the arrangement was working out.

One day when I came home, I found Mom in the kitchen with an open letter.

It was from Firebrook.

He pulled through and got me a place at a mage academy!

But reading it more in depth, it wasn't quite so straight forward. So, it was a little convoluted, but it went something like this: he didn't get me into the entrance exam itself, rather he got me a slot into a preliminary exam at a mage academy to see if I qualified to take the actual entrance exam. The letter stated these tests were given out quite regularly, every month if possible. I missed this month's test, but I was now slotted in for next month’s exam.

It was a simple formality he claimed in the letter. I had more than enough mana to qualify and my basic problem-solving skills were, in his own words, 'acceptable' to clear the test. I now had three weeks to wait until the next test was given.

The academy's name was Dath'Remar.