Kaelen felt the quiet stretch between them, long and thin like a drawn wire. His gaze dropped to the rough-hewn floor of the cave shelter, tracing the faint lines in the stone. What words could bridge the chasm of generations? He was a son of the Deep Earth, a lineage that fought with the primal currents of the world. Elder Varek, a veteran of the Iron Spire, belonged to the very order that had suppressed such knowledge, that had waged wars against Kaelen's ancestors.
An apology felt absurd, a foolish offering for a conflict he never knew. Yet, to claim ignorance, to deny the potent resonance that thrummed within his very bones, felt like a betrayal of himself. The silence grew, thick and heavy.
Elder Varek shifted, a soft sigh escaping his lips. A weathered hand fell on Kaelen’s shoulder, a touch surprisingly gentle.
"Don't look like you're awaiting judgment, boy! You weren't at the Battle of the Whispering Peaks, were you?" Varek’s voice held a gruff warmth, though his eyes carried a distant sadness.
Kaelen wanted to point out that Varek himself seemed haunted by the past, but the words caught in his throat. He offered a silent nod instead.
"Old wounds belong to old men. Young ones like us, we've got new paths to carve. Fighting fire with fire just leaves ashes, and the common folk always get burned."
A bitter memory still clung to Varek's face, a shadow that his pragmatic words couldn't entirely dispel.
Kaelen, his voice barely a whisper, posed the question that had begun to form. "Do you regret it?"
Varek’s brow furrowed. "Regret what, lad?"
"Telling me to travel beyond the sanctuary."
Pursuing the depths of his own abilities, Kaelen knew, would invariably lead him towards the Deep Earth Clans. Their structure, built around innate current-attunement, meant only those of shared lineage could truly ascend. This presented a profound risk to the Iron Spire Hegemony, to the Order of the Cogs Varek once served. A powerful ley-weaver, even a nascent one, joining a lineage once considered a grave threat—it could destabilize the cautious peace.
But Varek simply shook his head. "I trust your character, Kaelen. The kindness you showed, welcoming a stranger, revealing your gifts just to aid me. If someone like you, with that spirit, finds a place of leadership within a Deep Earth Clan, perhaps... perhaps you could forge a different future. Prevent the old animosities from flaring anew."
Kaelen felt a prickle of unease. Elder Varek overestimated him, surely. His hospitality had simply been the way his mother had taught him. His eagerness for conversation, a yearning for connection in his isolated life. The aid he offered during Varek's peril? Merely a visceral reluctance to see someone he'd grown to respect perish. Had Varek treated him with suspicion, Kaelen doubted he would have lifted a finger.
He stared at the ground, lost in the complexity of Varek’s expectations.
"Well," Varek broke the silence again, a soft chuckle in his voice, "no need to brood. You haven't even decided to seek out the Veinwrights yet, have you?"
"That's true."
Honestly, the notion of wandering, of perceiving the world's currents without the constraints of a formal order, held far more appeal. It was a freedom he craved. The fragmented stories Varek had shared about the Deep Earth Clans had stirred a peculiar mix of curiosity and a vague sense of caution within him.
"I plan to remain here until your injuries are fully mended. We can consider my path then, slowly."
"Injuries? Merely a few scrapes, my boy!" Varek gave another hearty laugh, though he winced slightly as he moved his arm.
---
While Elder Varek recuperated, Kaelen seized the opportunity. He had wielded the world’s currents by instinct, a reckless art born of isolation. Now, a chance to learn the true principles presented itself.
Varek, settling on a nearby stone, began. "The world current, Kaelen, or what some scholars call 'ley-weaving,' is often described as the 'Key to the World's Fabric'."
"The Key to the World's Fabric..." Kaelen repeated, the phrase resonating with the subtle hum he always perceived.
"But a key does not unlock all doors simultaneously. To manifest significant change, it demands a proportional expenditure of current. You've surely experienced this, yes?"
Kaelen nodded. "What determines that proportional cost?"
This question had often gnawed at him, a foundational mystery behind his every manipulation of the currents.
Varek cleared his throat softly, holding up three gnarled fingers. "The difficulty of current-shaping, young Kaelen, is governed by three primary factors. First, innate ley-attunement. Second, acquired current-skill. Third, establishing a current-link."
Innate ley-attunement, acquired current-skill, establishing a current-link. Kaelen repeated the terms silently, engraving them into his memory.
"The first, innate ley-attunement, is simply the inherent connection one is born with. Those without it, like the combat engineers of the Iron Spire, can't wield the currents directly at all. For instance... you would find it difficult to mend my wounds, wouldn't you?"
"That's true." Kaelen pictured the intricate network of currents he'd need to manipulate for healing, a concept that felt utterly alien to his usual bursts of force.
"Certain lineages, like the Verdant Weavers from the western forests, possess an innate healing attunement. They can mend flesh and bone with little effort. Powerful ones can even reattach severed limbs, cure deep maladies. For someone of a different attunement, like yourself, such feats are nearly impossible, no matter how much current you funnel. This is a clear example of innate attunement."
Kaelen's mind, unbidden, drifted to his mother. If he had possessed such a healing gift, her last days might have been different. The thought was a familiar ache, swiftly suppressed. Dwelling on what-ifs served no purpose now.
"Then, what does the second factor, acquired current-skill, mean?"
"It's proficiency. A ley-weaver finds it easier to perform actions they are familiar with, movements they have ingrained. A smith, accustomed to striking steel, might more easily shape an intangible hammer of force, or strengthen their physical hammer with current. Someone who spends years scaling cliffs might find it simpler to manipulate gravity currents for a subtle ascent."
"My habit of throwing bolts of concentrated current like stones, does that fall into this?"
Varek’s smile widened. "Astute. Precisely. Had you simply willed a current of pure flame, it likely wouldn't have possessed such speed or destructive force."
Kaelen, having experienced this very phenomenon in his encounter with the forest creature, found this explanation effortlessly clear.
Varek, still beaming with the pride of a teacher, suddenly furrowed his brow. "The third, and arguably most crucial factor, is establishing a current-link. It's also the most complex. To be honest, even seasoned ley-weavers struggle to fully articulate it. Simply put, it's about making an event more 'natural,' more plausible within the world's existing currents..."
Varek stroked his chin, searching for the right words. He paused, then began. "What do you think would happen if you simply tried to kill me by wishing for it, with pure current?"
"Likely, your head would merely thrum with excess current, and nothing else." Kaelen envisioned the strange resistance he’d felt when attempting to directly manipulate the current-attuned beast.
"Exactly. That's a lack of current-link. It occurs when there's no proper conduit, no established 'cause' for the desired outcome, or when the task itself is extraordinarily difficult. In your hypothetical, both apply."
"I believe I understand the concept of 'cause' in this context."
"Explain it, Kaelen."
"Yes. If I wished to extinguish your life, it wouldn't be enough to simply expend current and vaguely desire your death. I would need to provide a natural conduit for that outcome. To conjure a focused bolt of current and direct it towards you. Forming and launching that bolt is considered more 'natural,' more readily accepted by the world's currents, than merely willing your heart to stop."
This was the very deduction Kaelen had made during his struggle with the creature.
Varek clapped his hands, his admiration clear. "Excellent! You could have been a scholar of the Spire, Kaelen. Your insight is exceptional. As you've said, forming a proper current-link, a 'cause,' can dramatically reduce the expenditure of current."
"But why is it," Kaelen pressed, "that I can easily manipulate ordinary forest creatures, yet current-attuned beasts demand this kind of specific approach?" He had often dealt with aggressive animals by simply binding them or driving them away with currents. The sheer resistance from the forest creature had been unique.
"Creatures possessing their own current-resonance," Varek explained, "develop a natural resistance to direct manipulation proportional to the amount of current they hold. However, if you channel a 'completed current-link' – a defined action like a bolt or a localized surge – and make contact, you bypass much of that resistance. Of course, if the disparity in current strength is too great, the link might still falter, but that's a different matter."
Varek further elaborated, stating this was why Kaelen’s focused current-bolt had charred the creature instantly, while Varek's own direct, unlinked manipulation had barely fazed it. Trying to directly 'shut down' a ley-weaver with current, Varek implied, was virtually impossible.
After absorbing the detailed explanations, Kaelen felt a dull throb behind his eyes. He pressed his thumbs against his temples.
"Ley-weaving is... far from simple, isn't it?"
"A great ley-weaver isn't merely one who wields immense current. Understanding its principles, discerning what can be achieved, and utilizing the subtle flows around you – all are equally vital."
Kaelen closed his eyes, replaying Varek's words, carving the lessons into his mind. Then, a thought surfaced, something he hadn't yet asked.
"Now that I think of it, do the Clan Veinwrights also possess any distinct ley-attunements?" Varek had described their physical traits: heightened senses, exceptional night vision, uncanny accuracy. But these didn’t seem directly tied to current manipulation.
Varek nodded. "They do. Veinwright ley-weavers excel in Current-Masking and Current-Tracking. Have you ever attempted those?"
"I’ve used Current-Tracking a few times. Never Current-Masking." Kaelen recalled subtly sensing his mother's presence through the currents, or following the faint traces of predatory animals near the sanctuary. It was this same subtle tracking that had led him to Varek. As for masking himself, there had been no need in his solitary life.
"Try it now. Many with some attunement can manage basic misdirection, a blurring of perception. But the highest form of Current-Masking, removing oneself entirely from the currents of perception – that is an attunement unique to the Veinwright lineage."
Kaelen focused his intent.
He willed himself unseen. Unheard. Undetected by scent. He poured the world current into this singular desire.
A powerful drain began within him, the familiar hum intensifying then dissipating, leaving a strange void where his current usually resided. He glanced down at his hands, his body. Nothing appeared to have changed.
"Did it work?" he asked, a flicker of doubt.
Varek, however, stared blankly at the spot Kaelen had occupied. His eyes seemed unfocused, distant. "It worked, Kaelen. I... I can't perceive you. Are you still there?"
Kaelen rose from his stone seat and walked slowly across the shelter. He stamped a foot lightly on the stone, snapped his fingers. Varek remained motionless, his gaze fixed on empty space.
Confirmed. Kaelen released the flow of current. The drain ceased, and Varek’s eyes immediately sharpened, fixing on him with an almost startled intensity.
A long, slow breath escaped Varek. "It's been many years since I witnessed that ability. As terrifying now as it was then. During the old wars, the Order’s knights prayed that night would never fall. Too often, by dawn, entire barracks would be found silent, every soldier's throat slit."
"This... this seems an impossibly unfair ability." Kaelen breathed, a cold dread creeping through him. It was a terrifying power, far beyond the gentle healing he had once wished for. How could anyone combat an opponent they could not even perceive?
Varek shook his head, a somber expression on his face. "Not invincible, Kaelen. By no means."