Red Mana

It was about this time that he started to take his lunches on the battlement facing the mountain range. He would spend hours in the period after dinner, before dusk, just watching them. committing them to memory.

It felt right, and in its own way, was a testament and a memorial to Voska, who never got to teach Jodah any proper red spells since Jodah did not know the mountains as well as his teacher had.

One evening, in the privacy of his small room, Jodah cleared his mind and thought of the mountains. The farmlands of his home were ground into his bones and came to him easily, but it was harder to pull the mountains to him. To be among them. To be one of them. To pull their power in.

Yet after several days of meditation he did so and called up enough of the red energy to light a single taper. The red mana had its own feel, and taste, and texture—separate and distinct from the white. It felt warmer and tasted like a campfire burning pine branches to Jodah. It also felt wilder, more uncontrollable, ready to shift off in another direction if not watched properly. After several days, he was able to produce a large enough flame to light several candles from a distance.

***

The Gathering Dark, Chapter 12