I could feel the sweat trickling down my back, sticking my t-shirt to my skin.
The stream was down there, a hundred meters away, flowing between the stones like a vein of liquid silver.
I crouched, placed my hand on the ground. The rock was hot, almost burning under my fingers. But it wasn’t just rock. Not since I’d started seeing the Ether.
Between the grains of quartz and feldspar crystals, my little golden energy serpents intertwined. They didn’t follow any logical pattern—at least, not one I understood yet.
Sometimes they clustered into dense knots, forming pockets of trembling light. Other times they nearly disappeared, as if sucked away by something invisible.
— As long as there’s life…
I closed my eyes, tried to focus. Since I’d touched that first crystal in the mine, something had changed. Not just my perception—my ability to act on things. Not in any spectacular way. Not yet. But enough that when I placed my fingers on the stone, I felt a kind of… response. As if the rock wasn’t entirely inert. As if it was waiting.
— If Ether flows through everything, then it flows through water too. And if I can channel it…
I stood up, wiped my hands on my pants. In my pocket, the new piece of quartz I’d found and kept as a talisman weighed against my thigh.
I already had my super pendant, but hey—more is better.
I took it out, held it at arm’s length, crouched, and touched the stone on the ground.
The world seemed even sharper than with the pendant. The Ether filaments less chaotic. Less painful.
— Alright. Let’s take it slow…
I chose a spot halfway between the cave and the stream, where the soil seemed a little looser, less compacted by centuries of erosion.
I knelt, placed both hands flat on the earth. The quartz in my right hand, pressed against the ground.
Heat rose through my palms, but it wasn’t unpleasant. It was… alive. Like touching the skin of a sleeping animal.
I closed my eyes.
At first, there was only the noise—that constant hum in my skull, like an electrical transformer about to blow.
Then, slowly, the outlines took shape.
Silicon and oxygen atoms arranged in crystalline networks, but between them, the Ether ran in irregular filaments, like underground rivers. Some areas were denser, almost clogged. Others seemed hollow, as if something had been torn away.
— That’s where the water could pass.
I took a deep breath.
The idea was simple: if the Ether reacted to my will—even weakly—then maybe I could guide its flow. Not control it. Just… influence it. Like blowing on embers to stoke a fire.
I focused on a specific point, about a meter below my hands. I imagined a fissure. Not a brutal break—no, something more organic. A path. A channel.
At first, nothing happened.
Then—
A crack. In my head first, as always in these critical moments.
In the bones of my skull. The sensation that they were releasing pressure from within my cranium with a boom.
Then this boom could echo in the surrounding matter, usually in nearby wood for reasons I didn’t understand.
Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.
Never mind.
I reopened my eyes.
The earth under my palms had split, following an irregular but precise path, as if a giant root had forced its way to the surface. A fine golden dust escaped from the crack—no, not dust. Ether. Released by the disturbance.
— Damn.
I jumped back, hands in the air as if I’d touched a live wire. The fissure was slowly deepening, sinking into the ground with a low hiss. Then—
A gush.
Not violent. Not spectacular. Just clear water, almost shy, rising along the walls of the fissure, as if hesitating to emerge. It was cold to the touch when I dipped my fingers in. And pure. No mineral taste, no bitterness. Just… water.
— Seriously. It works?!
I sat back on my heels, watching the small stream begin to pool at the bottom of the fissure. The Ether danced on its surface, forming shifting patterns—spirals, tiny waves. As if the water itself was alive.
— And now?
I hadn’t dug a well. Not yet. Just a rough draft. But it was a start.
The next three hours were a mix of relentless focus, breaks—this is exhausting—and desperate trial and error.
First, I had to widen the fissure. I placed my hands on the stony ground near my shelter again, this time trying to feel where the Ether was densest.
Where it resisted my influence, I pulled back.
Where it seemed pliant, I pushed. Gradually, the fissure deepened, forming a small natural basin about fifty centimeters in diameter.
Next, I had to stabilize the walls. Without tools, without mortar, I had only my hands and this damn nascent ability to twist reality just enough to make it do what I wanted. I ran my fingers along the rough edges, imagining a smoother, more resistant surface.
The Ether reacted in fits and starts—sometimes hardening the stone, sometimes making it crumble like chalk.
I had to start over five times before I got something that stood without crumbling.
Finally, I had to channel the water.
That’s where things got complicated.
The Ether didn’t just flow through the rock—it interacted with it. With me. With everything. When I tried to guide the flow toward the basin, it resisted, like a current refusing to change its bed. Worse: sometimes it rebounded, creating invisible eddies that made my fingers tremble.
— It’s like trying to redirect a river with a straw.
I lay on my stomach, my face almost pressed to the ground, and watched.
The water—my water—was there, just centimeters below the surface. I could see it now, not just as a liquid but as a set of molecules linked by trembling Ether bridges. If I wanted it to rise, I had to break some of these bridges. Not all. Just enough to create a path.
I closed my eyes.
And I listened.
Not with my ears. With that part of me that perceived the Ether—this sixth sense growing inside me like a bizarrely useful tumor.
There.
A knot. A place where the Ether accumulated before stagnating.
I placed my fingers on it.
— Come on.
Pressure. Not physical. Mental. As if I’d flipped a switch with my mind.
The water rose.
Not gushing—no, it slid, as if drawn by an invisible force, slowly filling the basin to the brim.
I sighed and sat cross-legged in front of my creation.
It wasn’t a well. Not yet. It was a hole in the ground with water at the bottom.
But it was my first magic hole.
The message inscribed itself in my mind like an equation solved after hours of calculation—not a mystical revelation, just the logical confirmation of a successful effort. The numbers scrolled by, sharp and precise, as if etched into a corner of my visual cortex.
[Level 4 reached]
Optimizations:
- Extended Range Level. 1 : 15 cm range to manipulate Ether without touching matter.
- Material Affinity (ROCK) Level. 1 : Better understanding of mineral structures. Less energy used when shaping rock.
I weighed the pros and cons, scratching my budding beard. The range was tempting—less need to press my nose against every pebble. But the affinity… If I wanted to dig this well properly, understanding rock would be crucial.
— I’ll decide later. First, I’m celebrating this.
==Default Classic Skill Acquired:==
==Hunting (Lv. 1) : Accuracy +20%, noise reduced by 15%. ==
Finally, maybe I can catch a rabbit without scaring it off from three kilometers away.
I laughed to myself, a little nervously. Skills. Like in a game. Except here, the rabbits had horns, the water sparkled, and my fingers still trembled at the thought of what I’d just done.
Alright. Now, can I also learn not to look like a lunatic when I talk to myself?
I shook my head and took another sip of water. It tasted… clean. Too clean. Distilled, with that slight fizzy aftertaste.
Very pleasant and refreshing.
— Or maybe it’s just the Ether giving it that taste.
I stood up, my legs a little shaky. Four levels. Four damn levels in a few days. If this was a dream, it was the weirdest one I’d ever had.
I looked at the improvised well, the water shimmering in the setting sun. Tomorrow, seeds. Tomorrow, maybe something to eat that wasn’t questionable berries or rabbit meat I was starting to get sick of.
Tonight?
Tonight, I’d sleep with the window open, listening to the ripple of my well.
And for the first time in a long time, I felt almost… competent. Like I could take on the whole world.