Mana is an energy created from life, but that doesn’t mean that it must remain in that form. There is nothing to suggest that a stone does not live in its own way.

That was the first line of the nook, a quote from an unknown source. Predating recorded history.

Mending. That was the art of turning life into matter. The most basic form of the higher practice called “Creation”. It is the most basic and simplified form of magic that doesn’t require tools or materials. Perfect for a beginner project.

It is important to understand the basics of mana manipulation before starting on this project.

Mana acts as an invisible, massless liquid that flows through the body in much the same way as the blood. In fact, it is known that the “flow” of mana will synchronize with the heartbeat when it is left long enough. Making the metaphor even more apt.

As a mage, your goal is to manipulate the flow of mana through alternative mediums besides your own body. No matter the discipline of magic, this idea of a closed loop is central. It just happens that mending takes it the most literally.

Before you begin, start with a simple exercise. Place the tips of your fingers on both hands together, so that every finger is touching the matching finger on the other hand. If you are lacking one or several fingers, only one pair of fingers will suffice. If you are missing a hand, then any skin to skin contact will be fine. If that much isn’t possible then your journey will be difficult.

Andromeda propped the book up on the small lectern sitting on the desk and put her hands together as she was told.

Close your eyes and picture the image of your hands in front of you. Remember to open your eyes occasional to keep the image correct.

Now picture a flow between your fingers, from the left to the right. Like a stream of water passing through one finger to another.

Andromeda practiced this for a few minutes, opening her eyes and closing them so she could do it without being distracted.

For this next step. Keep imagining your hands together, with the flow uninterrupted between them. While you imagine this, slowly pulled your hands apart. After a few moments, bring them back together, all the while you must keep imagining them touching, and with the stream undisturbed.

Andromeda spent a few minutes practicing this as well. She continued until she never missed the finger movement, and that the movement didn’t distract her thoughts. She felt a pressure in her chest. Her heartbeat and breathing started going faster. It wasn’t uncomfortable, but it was an obvious change.

Finally, do this same exercise once again. But keep your hands apart. Maintain the mental image of them together and the stream flowing, but keep your hands apart.

Wait for a few moments with them apart. Then open your eyes.

Andromeda did as she read.

The mental image of her hands touching, the flowing stream, she kept the image clear and precise. It was so clear in her mind that she was starting to doubt that her eyes were not open.

On the outside she had spread her hands apart and kept them still. She almost didn’t feel them anymore. It was as if the barrier between reality and her imagination was blurring

Then she performed the final step.

She opened her eyes.

There were streams of white light connecting her fingers. They looked the same as the streams of energy that she pictured in her mind. But they were stretched over nearly a foot between her hands. The longer she looked, the more they destabilized and flicked, until one string vanished entirely, then another, and the rest followed soon after.

Andromeda felt her heart in her chest. She just saw light! Was that magic? Had she done it?

She looked to the book.

In all likelihood, you just saw nothing. This practice is essential to visualizing the flow, but it will take months, maybe years, before you are able to produce the intended effect. In theory you should see a string of energy between one of your finger pairs, maybe two if you are especially talented.

Andromeda was confused and surprised. It took her a few minutes of practice, but this said she needed to wait years to do what she just did. That, and she managed 5 strings instead of 1 or 2. Did that mean she was talented, or what it something else?

Do not be discouraged by your results. No one is born masterful of the mystic arts. Mastery is gained through repetition and practice. With great effort you will stand with your peers, with great patience you will stand next to your masters, and with great experience you will surpass them both.

She couldn’t see any mention of it in the book. Maybe it was just a fluke?

Andromeda brought her fingers together again, performed the exercise again. Her eyes closed, her mental image ready, her hands steady, she opened her eyes to see the stream again.

They were brighter, more luminous, they radiated with energy. She focused, with her eyes open she tried to focus on the streams, picturing in her mind’s eye the streams as they were with her eyes closed. The streams stayed strong between her fingers. Then she sneezed, her hands fluttered and the streams scattered into a shower of sparks. She yelped in surprise and looked around frantically to make sure she didn’t set anything on fire.

It wasn’t a fluke, she just wasn’t having an issue with it. She looked to the book for further guidance.

Once you have achieved an acceptable level of experience, such to a point that you could reliably make one or more lines, you may begin.

Already got that covered.

Find an object, any will do, but one that is small and preferably not fragile is best. The object must have some kind of damage. A scuff mark, a chip, a crack, as long as you can see it and know that it is in less then perfect condition.

Andromeda looked around the room, in the corner was a wooden door stopper. She walked over and picked it up. It was old and worn out, likely from years of use and abuse. It seemed like the perfect thing to start with. Sitting down on the table in front of her, she continued on with her reading.

Now that you have a solid understanding of how to form a closed loop. You must now apply it practically. You will find that mending is not the act of repairing a subject, rather it is the act of returning it to a form it once possessed.

To perform this task. You must form the loop through the object of your choice. Much in the same way that you formed with your fingers. This alone will do nothing but pass the mana through the object. The essence of mending is to take this idea of a loop and to turn it inside out.

Imagine the loop, now imagine instead of it flowing from from one finger to another, it is flowing from all around the object inward. If that is too abstract, imagine a whirlpool. The water is flowing in from all sides and toward the center.

Andromeda closed her eyes and pictured the whirlpool. A swirling vortex that met at a single point. The flow was turbulent and stable at the same time, all the energy coming together into one place. She opened her eyes to see that the same vortex she had pictured had formed floating between her hands. She hadn’t even noticed that she had moved her hands.

Her eyes turned to the book for further confirmation and with the loss of focus the vortex disappeared.

Once this visualization has been mastered, you must study your subject closely. Everything, from the largest mountain to the smallest stone has a natural flow path like the flow of a river.

Much like the flow of a river, the path changes with the ever increasing erosion of the land when the water flows through it.

To mend, you must discover the original path of the flow. Not where it resides now. Once this is discovered, you must channel the flow of the vortex’s center into a single stream of flow, then pass it through the original flow path.

When you do this, it forces reality to fill in the gaps, thus “mending” the object. The only alternative is for reality to break it’s own rules. Which is is loathed to do. Just as a river does not exist without its banks, a mana stream does not flow through an object that does not exist.

Andromeda tried her best to study the door stop, but she didn’t how she was supposed to find this “flow path”. Let alone where it’s old one was.

She looked it over from every angle. It looked like any chunk of wood she had ever seen. If there was something she was something there than she wasn’t seeing it.

Hoping for answered, she turned to the book once again.

The flow of an object is not something that can be easily found. Just as the flow between your own fingers was not a simple process. Some objects require rigorous testing, others are obvious, this is a skill that the mage must master to succeed with mending. Without it, you will mend nothing.

Andromeda thought about this. Every object was different. That made sense in a way. Not every scratch and scuff was the same, even if they looked the same. She thought about the analogy of water. If she thought of flow like water, and the stopper like a rock in the river, then the water would flow past it, or if she was lucky, through it.

She brought her palms together, she imagined the flow between them being in the shape and size of her hands. Flowing from the left to the right. She opened her eyes to see her hands separated, the flow of energy between them a perfect reflection of the shape of her hands.

She put the doorstop between her two hands and watched what happened to the flow. It flowed over the stopper like smoke in the wind.

On the left side, where the flow was coming from she saw that a single point seemed to draw the flow inside it, on the right she saw the exact opposite, a small wisp of smoke leaving out in a weak stream. She broke her concentration and picked the doorstop up.

The place where it the flow entered didn’t stand out to her at all, neither did the place that it left. It felt to easy if it was just a straight line between those two points, she wasn’t even sure if that was at all related to what she was trying to accomplish.

She put it back down and stopped to think.

She peeked forward in the book to see if there was anything to help, but as far as she could see it was operating on the idea that she figured it out already. So that was a no go.

What was her goal?

She wanted to find where the flow was currently, then somehow extrapolate from that where it used to be. Then somehow do something with the flow that did something else.

She was understanding it perfectly well until right then. What was she missing?

There was a knock at the door. Andromeda turned around to see Catherine was standing in the doorframe.

“Am I interrupting you?” Catherine asked.

“No, I think I need to take a minute to think anyway. Did you need something?” Andromeda said.

“Need? Not really, I came up here to see if you were hungry. I was thinking of starting dinner soon and wanted to know how much I should make.” Catherine said.

Before she could answer, Andromeda’s stomach rumbled loud enough to be heard.

Catherine smiled and laughed.

“I suppose that is a yes.” Catherine said.

Andromeda shrunk in her chair, then stood up.

“I’ll help out. Might as well.” She said.

“Would you? That would be lovely.” Catherine said.

The change of pace would be nice for both of them, and a little difficult.

The afternoon carried on into the night. The sun set over the horizon and the world fell into a restful blue hazy dim.

Argo returned from his work in the fields, it wasn’t essential that he worked out there anymore. But he continued the practice to keep himself busy. Ever since that morning he had been feeling less tired and drained. There was still a layer of fatigue laying atop of him, but it wasn’t as smothering as it had been before.

He stepped inside to the smell of something wonderful.

His taste had been gone, and his with that was his sense of smell. But he smelled something sweet and mouth watering coming from the kitchen. Pulled off his jacket and carefully sat it on the coat rack, trying his best to not tip it over with how heavy the jacket was.

After he closed the door he ventured father into the house to find the source of the smell.

He rounded the corner to an unfamiliar sight.

Standing above the stove was Catherine, she was smiling wide and laughing as she stirred some kind of broth. What it was he didn’t know.

Beside her was Andromeda. Her sleeves pulled up and her hair pulled back. She was chopping peppers and onions, then sliding them toward Catherine on a plate. They were both so enraptured with their conversation that they hadn’t even noticed that he had entered.

He didn’t want to interrupt, so he just leaned against the wall nearby watching them work.

Catherine wasn’t a natural born chef. It was a skill that she picked up over the years. He always admired how she went about things. She never just settled with what she knew, once she learned something she would look for something else to take her time.

He occasionally felt bad about the life he gave to her. Living almost alone out in the middle of nowhere with an old farm body. But she never once complained, and she always radiated a life and energy that made him happy to know her, let alone be married to her.

It was then that Andromeda turned around with a plate of chopped… Something… They looked faintly like potatoes cut into thin slices, but they were puffy and looked crisp. That was when she noticed he was there.

“Oh, hey Argo.” Andromeda said.

Catherine turned when she heard Andromeda speak and saw her husband. She had a big, dumb smile on her face that made his heart flutter.

“Gogo, eat one of these!” She said excitedly, then she shoved one of the crispy looking potato slices in his mouth. He was skeptical at first, but then the taste buds lit up at the flavor. It was salty, but savory, The crisp amplified the taste a thousand fold, he tasted oil on it, but beyond that the spices used escaped him. He could barely parse what he was tasting, but it was amazing.

“This girl, I swear, she is a miracle! I was going to make soup but she stopped me and showed me how to make this!” Catherine said. She pulled Argo over to the pot she was working in on the stove. He looked inside and his eyes started watering. It was spicy, and it burned to look at.

“What is it?” He asked. She gave him a blank stare then turned over to Andromeda.

“We didn’t have everything for ketchup, so we’re having a kind of salsa ketchup.” She said. Argo didn’t know what either of those were, but he was excited to see Catherine so excited.

“Make sure to wash your hands both before and after you eat.” Andromeda said.

“Gee, I’m gonna start hearing it in both ears now aren’t I?” Argo said, Catherine gave him a playful slap on the arm and turned back to the “salsa”.

“Did you see Milo out there?” Catherine said. Argo sat down at the table and shook his head.

“No, he’s probably over ol’ Debis’ place still.” Argo said.

“I see, one moment.” She said, she patted Andromeda on the shoulder then handed the ladle she was stirring with to her. Then she went out toward the back door and shut it behind her.

“MILO, DINNER TIME!” Catherine screamed. An ear piecing yell that would put the explosion they endured the other day to shame rang out.

She walked back inside and retrieved the ladle from Andromeda, then went right back to stirring. A minute later Milo came hurtling through the back door like his life depending on it.

“I’m back! I’m back!” He said in a huff, still catching his breath.

“What did I say about not coming back before dark?” Catherine said.

“To… Not do that?” He said sheepishly.

“Exactly, now go wash your hands. We’re having something special today.” She said.

Everyone started getting ready to eat, but Catherine was suddenly concerned about something.

“Oh, we forgot to prepare any dishes.” She said. Andromeda assured her that it wasn’t a problem and prompted Catherine to let her deal with it. Milo returned from washing himself and came back. Argo, Milo, and Catherine sat at the table wondering what they were going to do, then Andromeda walked up to them and sat down two large bowls in the center of the table.

“What’s this?” Argo asked.

“Dinner?” Andromeda said, unsure about the hangup.

“No forks, no knives, not even a plate?” Argo asked.

“I guess you could grab one, but this is a tradition from where I come from.” She said. She sat down in the remaining chair and grabbed one of the crisp potato slices with her and dipped it in the salsa from the other bowl. Then she ate it right there.

“Oooh, I wanna try!” Milo said, he grabbed one of the chips and dipped it just like Andromeda. He ate the whole chip in one bite and his eyes nearly popped out of his head.

“That’s so good!” He said.

“Let me try.” Argo said. He did as his son did and grabbed one of the chips. He was always told to eat properly as his mother taught him. But he thought that a little rebellion here and there wasn’t a problem. He ate the chip and could barely process it.

Everything about it was perfect. The spice in the salsa was almost sweet and matched perfectly with the saltiness of the crisp. The flavor spread throughout his entire mouth and occupied his taste buds for what felt like forever.

He didn’t even know that food could taste like this. It was addicting, almost overwhelming.

Catherine followed soon after and had a very similar reaction.

Everyone was raving about it, Milo had to be stopped from trying to stuff a hand full of crisps in the salsa by his mother, but even she felt the urge to stuff her face with the delicious item.

In no time, both bowls were empty. Those who emptied them full.

Argo sat back in his chair and patted his stomach.

“That was amazing Catherine, absolutely incredible.” He said.

“Don’t thank me, it’s all Andromeda. I didn’t even know you could do what she did with what we had,” Catherine said.

“Oh, don’t worry about it, it wasn’t much.” Andromeda said.

“Wasn’t much? I think you might have ruined me on food just now. If this ‘wasn’t much’, then I’d like to see your full effort.” Argo said.

Andromeda felt her cheeks flush, embarrassed from the praise.

“Slow down, you’re gonna make the poor girl burn a hole in the floor.” Catherine said.

“It really wasn’t much, I used to make this when I felt lazy and didn’t want to put in any effort.” Andromeda said.

“I won’t even comment on that.” Argo said with a laugh.

Catherine clapped her hand together and gathered everyone’s attention.

“Alright, because Andromeda was kind enough to make dinner for us tonight, you two are helping me clean.” Catherine said.

Milo and Argo both groaned, knowing that there was a catch.

“As for you dear, you can get to bed if you want. We’ll be along soon ourselves.” Catherine said to Andromeda.

“Are you sure you don’t need any help with it?” Andromeda asked.

“That wouldn’t be fair, these two got all the benefit with none of the work. It’s only fair.” Catherine said.

“If you say so.” Andromeda said.

Andromeda left the kitchen and walked upstairs, she was faintly familiar with her room. She woke up there earlier in the day, but it was still new enough to her that it felt alien.

It occurred to her as she took of her shirt that this was the first time she would actually sit down and try to sleep. Every time before shit she was either unconscious, or in pain AND unconscious. So it was a nice change of pace.

Until know she didn’t have a proper time to reflect on everything that happened to her.

She was in another world, that world had magic, and it was killing her. More than that, the only people she knew was a family she had met a grant total of 10 hours ago and another person who disappeared after an explosion.

She had no options, no contacts, no information. She felt more isolated than she ever had in her entire life until that point. Which was really saying something considering her life up to that point.

She laid down on the bed and felt her eyes grow heavy. The studying following by cooking took more energy out of her than she thought. Her mind started to drift, she thought about this and that, until eventually she dozed off into a dream.

Just as she fell asleep, Catherine poked her head in the door. She saw that Andromeda was asleep and didn’t want to wake her.

“Thank you…” Catherine said.