Arcane Exfil-Chapter 38: Overclocked

With nothing scheduled for the rest of the day, they wrapped up with a quick visit to the infirmary to check up on Elina. Snippets of analyses from Kidry had already started to trickle in, the prognoses looking worse by the day. All they could do was hope for some sort of breakthrough in the coming days.

The drive back from the OTAC facility in Warren’s Forëa was filled with talk of plasmaballs: tactical shop talk to decompress after a productive session.

The manor was quiet when they returned, the staff having settled in already. Tenna met them in the foyer with a crisp nod, elegant as she’d been during the interview. Looked like she’d already familiarized herself with the layout, fitting right in.

After taking some time to wind down, Cole had tasked Darin with investigating Alexandria’s port for anything resembling coffee or other foreign stimulants Miles kept mentioning: and the general market, while he was at it. Darin, working out of a small office beside the library, had grasped the need quickly, outlining a plan to leverage both official manifests and dockside contacts. He’d estimated a day or two for a preliminary assessment of what was actually available and moving through the port, with a full survey taking longer.

Darin was already starting to demonstrate his effectiveness, but it was Lisara who’d made the most immediate difference. Their new chef had, as promised, demonstrated her knowledge of Japanese cuisine and prepared a surprisingly decent approximation of teriyaki chicken using local ingredients. The sauce wasn’t quite right: missing mirin and using some citrus native to Celdorne: but it hit close enough to home that Mack had nearly teared up at the first bite. That, combined with a rice variety that wasn’t jasmine but did the job, had been exactly what they needed after a long day of magic demonstrations.

Later, Cole sought out Melnar about mental enhancement magic. He figured the former combat officer would have relevant experience, and to no one’s surprise, he did. Melnar confirmed its importance for officers needing quick assessment and directed Cole straight to three specific volumes in the manor’s library.

Cole and the others spent the evening skimming the books, processing the basics. Mental clearing, calibration, controlled mana infusion. From what he gathered, the technique was essentially neural stimulation via mana: using magical energy to enhance signal transmission in the brain.

Like overclocking a processor, as Ethan had put it. Or Adderall on steroids. The warnings were pretty stark, repeated throughout the text: push too hard, too fast, without the prep? Well, the consequences ranged from cognitive overload to mana feedback and seizures: all the fun stuff that came with messing around inside the brain.

The books provided a solid foundation, but they stopped short of practical application. That, presumably, was where Lady Verna came in.

They arrived back at OTAC the next morning, directed this time to a smaller, functional training hall lined with tables and chairs.

Verna awaited them, mindlessly juggling several balls. She caught them all with a flourish when she spotted their entrance, her face lighting up.

“Ah, at last. I was beginning to suspect you’d taken a scenic detour,” she said with a smile. “No matter, I’ve been dreadfully eager to begin. You see, I’ve spent the better part of the morning attempting to recreate that rather dramatic plasmaball spell from yesterday’s demonstration. With… limited success.”

She gave a mock wince. “The eastern training range, I fear, may now require a rather heroic effort from the groundskeepers.” She laughed lightly. “Sir Fotham, as you can imagine, was thrilled.”

“Hell, I wouldn’t be too enthused either if somebody went and tore up my backyard,” Miles snorted. “What’d he do: threaten to run you out to the Wastes or somethin’?”

“Something to that effect. He merely proposed that the Wastes might better suit my temperament. Less flammable architecture, I assume,” Verna replied, her smile not apologetic in the slightest.

Cole smirked. Verna’s thorough help aside, anyone who could get that excited creating bigger explosions was alright in his book. “I take it you managed to get it working properly?”

“After a fashion. Containment was… enthusiastic in its resistance.” She made a flicking gesture, as though brushing soot off her sleeve. “A valuable lesson in restraint. Or, at the very least, a memorable one.”

After arranging her juggled items neatly upon the table, her expression shifted. “But I suppose I’ve monopolized the morning long enough. We’ve rather a great deal to accomplish today. Are you ready?”

Mack raised his hand like he was giving her the floor. “Take it away, Professor.”

“Very well. To begin, you’ll find that a battlemage of true consequence learns this soon enough: there are moments in battle when force alone avails one nothing. Power, when wielded too slowly, is scarcely power at all. A spell must be cast in thought before it is cast by hand, and a sluggish mind leaves the hand far too late.”

She demonstrated by launching two fireballs, one faster than the other. As was the case in modern combat, he who landed the first strike usually finished it. Room clearing, for instance: fractions of a second decided who walked out. Faster processing meant faster targeting, faster trigger pull. Or faster spell-cast, same difference. Even in magic, speed was life.

“This spell was never meant to cultivate wisdom. It will not lend you judgment. That, you must supply yourself. It merely drives the mind faster, and should you lack direction, speed alone will serve you poorly. And there are mages: a regrettable number: for whom that has proven a misalignment.”

“Not the sword, but the swordsman,” Ethan agreed.

Verna nodded, continuing, “The ancients knew it as ‘quickening of thought’: a phrase not without its theatricality, though I’d argue it captures the essence more faithfully than one might expect. The Office of Thaumaturgy, with its preference for austerity, now insists upon ‘mental acceleration’ or ‘mental enhancement’. I’m told the change was made in the interest of clarity.”

Mack tackled the elephant in the room. “So does everything else seem to slow down around you?”

Verna must’ve expected the question. She responded, unfazed, “In a manner of speaking. In those moments, the mind outruns the body: physical enhancement notwithstanding, and hesitation becomes a luxury one can briefly afford.”

Verna picked up one of the balls she’d been juggling earlier, tossing it back and forth between her hands. “Now, we shall begin with something benign. One object. One point of focus. Even the most disordered mind can manage that much without embarrassment.”

A second ball joined, then a third as she started juggling proper.

“Two may be done without thinking; three, with a little.”

She added a fourth, then a fifth. The motion hardly changed.

“With five, most find they can continue: provided nothing unexpected occurs. The pattern is regular; the rhythm can be memorized. However, should one object deviate, even slightly, the entire motion collapses.”

One ball rose higher than the rest, while another dipped low and crossed beneath, abandoning the circular pattern.

She reiterated, “When the rhythm is disrupted, habit fails. The mind is compelled to resume full control: and most minds, I regret to say, prove unequal to the task. Therein lies the purpose of enhancement: to supplement where our biology fails.”

She restarted, adding more until ten balls were up. Now, ten wasn’t peak performance by any means; pros did that. What got Cole was the chaos of it: no rhythm, balls flying high and low, fast and slow, seemingly at random. It was entirely new territory, beyond what practice could prepare for. Should be impossible, yet there it was. fɾeeweɓnѳveɭ.com

Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

Verna continued to catch each one: not like some elegant Vegas showman, but without error. She stopped the sequence with no final flourish, lowering the objects onto the table with wind magic.

“Now, to the method: such as it is. The process, though simple in theory, unfolds in three stages. The first: a severing of distraction: that the mind may begin unburdened. The second: attunement, in which one takes the measure of their own cognition. The third: the enhancement itself: an infusion of mana, by which the mind is driven past its natural limit.”

Verna gestured toward the chairs arranged nearby. Cole took a seat, the others settling in right after him. Verna’s expression shifted then, levity leaving as she locked in.

“We shall commence with the clearing of your mind,” she said. Her tone left no doubt this part was critical. “Herein lies the foundation; neglect this stage, or approach it with undue haste, and all subsequent efforts shall prove markedly more troublesome, indeed perilous.”

Verna took a seat herself to demonstrate. No lotus position or anything fancy: she just sat normally and closed her eyes. Simple enough.

“Right then, eyes closed, if you would,” she instructed. “Now, I require your complete attention directed inward. Attend only to your breathing. Mark its steady passage, in and out. With each outward breath, you must deliberately set aside any stray thought, any flicker of concern or external trifle. Persist in this, gentlemen, until your mind rests quite still, entirely unburdened. Perfect tranquility is the aim; nothing less will properly serve for what follows.”

Cole closed his eyes, pushing thoughts away as they surfaced. Wasn’t that different from meditation, really: the kind his ex had dragged him to at that wellness center back in Arlington. All he was missing was the incense and some guy in linen pants telling him to find his center while making everyone chant “om.” The military version he’d learned was a lot more practical, though: no pseudo-spiritual trappings, just clearing his head so he could put three rounds in a target at 300 meters.

Attunement: or calibration, as Cole preferred to put it, triggered a connection. It was essentially the same as zeroing a weapon. Just, instead of accuracy, it was mental processing.

Cole held the focus, breathing steady. After what felt like several minutes, Verna's voice broke the quiet.

“Now, you must gently turn your awareness outward, making account of all that impinges upon your senses. The sounds from afar, yes? The very breath drawn by the man beside you. Take note of each impression as it arises, yet allow none to capture your attention fully. You are merely to register their passing.”

Cole executed the scan, letting sensory inputs wash over him without sticking. The distant pops of gunfire from another training area, the solid feel of the chair, the faint warmth of the sun peeking through the windows: all noted and dismissed.

“By these means,” Verna explained, “we ascertain the natural measure of your thoughts. Consider it an attunement of the mind, commencing at its own unhurried pace. Hereafter, should you prove able, we shall endeavor to quicken that pace considerably.”

Verna fell silent, letting the quiet stretch.

“Very good. Open your eyes.”

Cole opened his eyes, the room flooding his vision as he kept a calm, steady focus. Things looked sharper, more defined, but he chalked it up to focused attention, not any actual enhancement.

“Now for the third stage,” she continued, “the enhancement proper. And here we find a profound departure from mere physical augmentation. One may channel mana to invigorate the limbs, lending strength to sinew and bone. Yet, apply such force directly to the workings of the mind?” She paused, her expression conveying the warning clearly. “Attempting to ‘strengthen’ the brain so crudely... the consequences would be grave indeed.”

She paused. “Rather, the mana acts merely as a... goad, perhaps? An impetus. It contrives no novel avenues of thought, nor imposes any unnatural condition. It simply permits the mind's existing channels to function with greater alacrity.”

Cole got the gist: mana as stimulant, boosting signal speed. Dosage controlled the effect. Straightforward enough.

“The image you hold in your mind is of paramount importance,” Verna continued. “Picture the mana gently pervading the very substance of the brain: not flooding it like a tide, but coating it. Hold fast to the desire for swifter thought, for keener insight.”

Coating it: like a sauce. The warmth of mana climbed up Cole’s body as he pictured it.

“Slowly,” she cautioned. “An excess of mana applied too hastily, or indeed any attempt at enhancement without the proper clearing and attunement first observed: such folly invites a profound disorder of the mind. Confusion gives way to faulty reason, then to sharp distress, and potentially to... convulsions.

Done explaining the theory, Verna walked over to a row of tables set up at the back. Familiar items lay atop each one: chessboards: probably another one of Alexander Celdor’s souvenirs from back home.

“For our initial exercise, therefore, we shall employ a pastime most suited to taxing the intellect: the game of chess. It demands foresight and calculation, and permits us to observe your reasoning whilst under duress. I shall explain:”

“We’re familiar with chess,” Cole clarified.

“Very well. These timing pieces,” she indicated the clocks, “shall allow us to measure the duration of your considerations. Remember, speed is not our chief object this day, nor victory: though I suppose competition wouldn’t hurt. Control, gentlemen. Above all else, control. Ready?”

Cole nodded, the others also confirming.

Verna paired them off: Cole with Mack, Miles with Ethan. “Enhance your minds, then begin.”

Cole ran through the procedure. After a minute or so, Mack gave him a nod to signal that he was ready.

Cole reached for the first pawn: e4, opting for a standard King’s Opening that his sister had taught him.

Mack responded immediately, matching the move with e5. There wasn’t that much to consider this early on. The cognitive acceleration didn’t really complement his technique, but he could feel it starting to kick in, especially when thinking about the avenues Mack could take next.

Cole advanced his knight. Across the board, Mack played aggressively, slapping the clock faster with each move.

The state felt oddly familiar, like that perfect zone during a firefight: not tunnel vision, but heightened awareness where everything slowed just enough to make better decisions. A flow state: that’s what it was called.

It struck him then how fitting chess was: the chill opening salvos allowed them to ease into it before ramping up in the mid-game. By then, Cole had to consider multiple possible lines all while simultaneously maintaining that mana flow to his brain. The dual focus was the real test; forcing his body to adapt and perform enhancement naturally.

A slight pounding had surfaced, the spell starting to get to him. An ambitious man may have pushed harder, but Cole knew his limits. He decided to simplify, forcing a piece trade rather than optimizing his play. The move wasn’t necessarily optimal chess, but it freed up resources to focus on the enhancement: which, after all, was the actual point of the exercise.

The game continued. Mack gained time advantage through his rapid play, but Cole maintained positional equality. Their relative chess skills remained the primary factor; the enhancement just compressed the thinking time.

Over time, though, the mana infusion started to feel less like a separate task and more like an extended sense. Not automatic, per se, but integrated: less like juggling two tasks and more like driving while talking. It still demanded attention, but it didn’t require constant context switching anymore.

By the time the board was cleared of most pieces, Cole had gotten relatively used to it. Checkmate came after twenty minutes: him cornering Mack’s king with a knight and a bishop.

“Fuck. Good game, man,” Mack stood, stretching his hand.

“Yeah.” Cole shook his hand and exhaled, “Close one. Think I might need some Aspirin after that one.”

Verna walked up to them. “Not entirely unpleasant, I hope?”

Of all the unpleasant things Cole had to endure back home, this wasn’t even worth a mention. “Wasn’t too bad. Slight headache, but it’s gone now: ever since I stopped casting it.”

Mack nodded. “Could def become second nature with enough practice.”

“Perhaps, should you make a habit of it.” Verna stared at the ongoing match between Miles and Ethan. “In most, the first taste of augmentation provokes appetite: and with it, the impulse to overreach. That you resisted speaks more than you likely intended. Until it becomes ‘second nature’, you shall remain precisely where you are.”

“So what’s next, more chess?” Mack asked.

Verna nodded. “Likely a day or two more. Should you remain steady, we shall begin juggling in due course.” She paused briefly then smiled, probably anticipating what they were just about to ask. “And yes. Its martial uses shall follow thereafter. There exist spells that cannot be attempted without enhancement, save by those with no further use for their faculties.”

Cole grinned. “Can’t wait.”

Verna tilted her head toward Miles and Ethan. “It appears they have concluded their game. We have ample time for several sessions before noon. You shall adhere to the same procedure, merely exchanging opponents.”

Cole swapped seats with Miles, now facing Ethan.

“Ready?” Ethan asked, arranging his pieces.

Cole nodded, closing his eyes to begin the clearing process once more.

The sourc𝗲 of this content is fre(e)novelkiss