That was because a beginner’s control over mana would still be weak and unrefined. They tended to either only slightly graze the mana, or try to shove it to the ground without the strength to actually do so. On the other hand, people who have worked mana tools for a while would have built up more strength, and would actually succeed in shoving if they wanted to.
That would lead to immediately depleting a mana crystal, which wasn’t something you wanted to do in most cases. Doing so with an everyday tool like a lighter, would just make it combust into an explosion that wouldn’t even kill you. But doing it with a weapon would most likely kill anything nearby. That’s why people also had to refine their control over the mana, and not just force it. With power, and no control, they might have accidentally destroyed the tool they were using.
None of that mattered to me, however, since I can’t use the stupid thing! I was supposed to be feeling like I’m prodding into it. Touch the mana with one finger, giving it a slight push. But that’s all too abstract for me to understand. Touching the mana? How does that even work! Isn’t everything made of mana? Aren’t I always touching mana? None of this makes any sense!
Because I had no idea what I was doing, nothing happened. I was supposed to just feel it out, but it was not working—
Suddenly, I felt it— like an extension of my body that sprouted out of nowhere. It was weak. Difficult to move. It reminded me of when I was first reborn. When I could barely even move my arms and legs; I had no strength back then, because I barely had any muscles. And yet, that wasn’t the worst part— that was the lack of control.
I knew how fingers work, considering how I’ve used them all my life. But when I became a baby again, I could not control my fingers. My fingers would never move the way I wanted it to. When I tried to move a single finger, sometimes all of them moved and sometimes none of them did. It was always completely random, and it was so frustrating.
Same thing with when I tried learning how to speak; when I opened my mouth and moved my tongue, things that barely qualified as sounds came out instead of actual words. It made me feel so out of control, and it nearly drove me insane. It was no wonder newborns did not have the brain capacity to understand or remember anything! Because if they did, I was certain most kids would grow up with some sort of complex.
Right now though, I was glad I remembered all of it. It made this new limb much easier to control. I had the experience, so all it took was just to remember how it felt, and to feel it out from there.
So using the limb, I seized the mana inside the mana crystal, and pushed. I didn’t push like an adult who was trying to start a fight in a bar, nor did I push like a kid who’s trying to get into their parents’ bedroom without waking them up. Instead, I pushed like a baby— one that’s climbing on a countertop, and sees their mothers’ expensive vase. A baby who then made the stupid decision to push the vase, simply out of pure curiosity to see what would happen.
And when I pushed, I felt the vase wobble. It wobbled on the countertop, but didn’t drop. So I did what any baby would do in that situation— I pushed again. And again. And again.
Finally, the vase fell. Off the countertop, and into the hard marble ground, shattering into thousands of tiny pieces.
And just like any mother would do, my own mom came running to me. Except however, she was not running to the sound of her expensive china shattering; something else called on her, making her run to me. My mom ran, not to witness the destruction of something precious, but to instead witness something that was precious: her daughter taking her first steps.
So, as my mom dropped everything she was doing to see what I did— to see the gentle candle-like flame hovering at the tip of the lighter— I turned to her and smiled wider than I ever did in my previous life.
"Look mom! I did it!"
Chapter 4: Stranger Danger
It’s hot.
I wiped the sweat off my forehead and looked up: the sun was high up in the sky, and there was not a cloud in sight. It’s probably noon, time to go back.
I hefted the basket filled with herbs up from the ground next to my feet, and slung it around my shoulder. It was not exactly filled to the brim, but there were still plenty of herbs in it— a satisfactory amount to bring back for the day. I walked out of the thicket of trees I was in, taking no more than a minute to reach the clearing where the brown haired boy was waiting for me.
Adrian sat leaning against a fallen tree, with one hand right next to the holster hanging off his waist. When he heard me approach, he jumped up, reaching for his father’s pistol—
"Oh, you’re back," Adrian said, visibly relaxing. Straightening, he lowered his arms and heaved out a sigh. "You scared me, y’know. You should’ve said something."
"Sorry," I spoke briefly.
But despite my quick response— which may have seemed ingenuine to most people— I actually was apologetic. The boy had been accompanying me in my gathering trips for a
