Chương 7: Mal puesto

—Jason Newborn— Jason woke up from another night terror, soaked in a cold sweat. Sara was telling him not to follow her. On the back of her monta (as he could now recognize) was a dead woman. She was a redhead in her early twenties. He couldn't see her face. In fact, he could barely recognize due to the acidic burning all over her body. Yet he could guess who she was, and the sharp expression on Sara's face, bleak and shearing as an arctic wind, confirmed it.

"Aita!" he screamed viciously. His servant came into his room despite it being four in the morning.

"Brandy!" he barked.

"How many times does this need to happen before you just bring it?"

"Yes, My Lord! I'll heat some up." Yes, My Lord, Jason repeated in his mind sarcastically. Your grand and glorious "Lord." You fucking people made us lords to cover up your abduction. Jason hadn't always felt this way. He was enamored by Veridia—at least, until the night terrors began. Sara's cold face. The redhead, limp and twisted over the back of the monta where Sara's traveler's pack originally was. Sara was going to sleep in the misty rain that day. The redhead wouldn't care. She was a corpse.

Jason drank down a glass, but it did nothing more than leave him confused. He was changing, and it felt as though he was at an impasse where everything was just bad, and everything else was yet to be unlocked. He could feel it in his soul. He drank again. How does this work for Sara, he wondered, regretting drinking the warmed brandy he demanded. Worst crutch ever. He drank the rest anyway. It was the day of the expansion, and he'd have to do it without Sara there. Bitch wasn't even back.

Edico will probably expand her on the road, Aelia had told him one day. Stop worrying about her. He's the best teacher in the kingdom. Yes. Sara just disappears on a "trip" before the Markinoa Festival with the "best teacher" in Veridia. She probably wooed them into secret training or something. For all he knew, she had already expanded her core and practiced the swordplay he was learning from his tutor.

"Best tutor in the kingdom." That's what people said about Aelia. Aelia disagreed. She said it was Edico. Jason got neither. Didn't they care about his power? His potential? Every other loser out there was destined to be a deadbeat that pissed themselves after their first feast after a battle. They were going to unload their guts onto the ground and then shake like prissy little bitches. These were students, not warriors. They should be focused on the people that mattered.

Namely, him: the one who was summoned here to begin with. Jason dressed in his combat leathers and made his way to the colosseum they had begun training at. He wouldn't be flirting with Tara, who had come early, or Mary, who would show later. He immediately started with his sword training. Jason slid the mana-wrapped blade across the dirt in a thin line. Rocks rumbled when he did it. That's all. It didn't buckle the earth. Once I expand my core. Then, I'll be able to do it.

"Why do you keep doing that?" Raul asked, walking through the colosseum's door. He and Raul had been at odds for weeks, but he was also the only friend that Jason truly had, at least, on days like this. Days he woke up in a foul mood, mind mangled and folded by the same night terror that gripped him every few days.

"Because I'm supposed to be able to buckle the ground."

"Why do you think that?" Jason didn't answer. Answering would invite Raul into his prophecy. Yes, his prophecy. There were two prophecies, one where he earned Sara's admiration with the sword demonstration. And another where he… Jason needed to do the first and avoid the second. Both required power. So he kept practicing.

"Does it have something to do with why you can't use your mana?" Raul asked. Jason sucked an impressive wave of mana around his sword, and the ground buckled a little then.

"You know what I mean," Raul replied tersely.

"It's anger," Jason said.

"Or…"

"Her?" Raul suggested. Jason threw his sword.

"I don't know what it is, but I'm so much more powerful when she's around. It's probably just… competitive spirit. A desire to woo her over as if an alcoholic trainwreck fuck head woman is a prime-cut steak served rare over lettuce."

"She's not a prime cut, man," Raul said, plopping onto the ground like a giant trying to speak to a child at eye level.

"That girl? She's your mal puesto. Your…"

"Stop speaking Spanish."

"It's not Spanish, dick. It's culture. Sorry, I was born in LA." Jason picked up the sword.

"Yeah, you're right. I'm not devaluing… just say it. What the hell's… mal puesta or whatever." Raul cracked his neck, likely regretting talking to Jason. It was more and more like this. Jason was going mad, and Raul could see that. In truth, he was being a good friend. Jason needed to chill… the fuck… out.

"Mal puesto," Raul said.

"I remember having this… necklace. It was from Julie. Remember her?"

"Your ex?"

"Yeah. I said I dumped her, but it was actually the other way around. And she had bought me this cross necklace. Sterling silver. And when she dumped me, I'd just sit in the living room and stare at it for hours, wondering if she was just rich or if she once loved me enough to spend her savings on it or something. The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there.

"And my nana came in one day, and said, 'Mijo. If you see a mal puesto, you leave it at the door. If you own one, gift it.' And I said, hah." Raul laughed.

"Something similar to you, actually.

'What's a mal puesto, nan?' And she said: 'A hex, mijo. An object that sucks out your soul. Blocks the heart.' She tapped her chest twice.

'If you have one, it brings you bad fortune. You must gift it to someone in need to break the curse.'""So, basically, you needed to get rid of the necklace to get over her."

"Yeah."

"And you couldn't've just fucking said that?" Jason picked up his sword in a fury.

"Of course not, pendejo," Raul said, using Spanglish for spite.

"You can't just say, get over it. How well's that been doin' for you?" Jason snorted. Raul was right again. He resented it. At this point, saying, "You're right" once was enough to make the guy start raving like a vindicated conspiracy theorist.

"Mal puesto is a concept," Raul said.

"It says that there's something specific that's causing this blockage. And there is, isn't there? Something you did? Maybe to make her hate you?" Jason gritted his teeth. Raul was talking about the day before Sara broke up with him. Even the insinuation was enough to throw Jason into a fury. There were rumors 'til everyone realized that something was different about Sara. Something tangible. Foreknowledge. Possession. Time Travel. Emma knew it. Sara barely talked to her. It was unnatural.

"A dream?" Raul suddenly suggested. Jason whirled and pointed his sword at him.

"What about a dream?"

"So you've had one, too," Raul said, cracking a smile.

"And you didn't mention it?" Jason screamed.

"Dude, I've tried. I can't get a word in edgewise talking to you. And I had a strong feeling that this conversation would end up like it is now. With you pointin' a fucking sword at me." Jason's eyes trailed down to the tip of the sword, and then he sheathed it.

"I'm just telling you because it's expansion day," Raul said.

"You needa keep focused." Jason closed his eyes and nodded.

"Okay." He wanted to leave the conversation there, but he decided to say, "Thanks."

"You got it." Raul slapped his thighs and stood. He turned and said, "Looks like it's happening." Aelia walked through the gates of the colosseum with the rest of the Chosen (minus Sara, obviously) and said, "Today's the core expansion ceremony. I need everyone to pay close attention because your performance here will permanently alter your life." Jason snapped to attention.

"As I explained on the first day of training, the size and purity of your core determines how much mana you can circulate. That factor is determined at birth. That said, having the largest core doesn't inherently make someone the strongest. A well-trained mage with an expanded core can kill someone with the largest of cores in a"—she snapped her fingers—"second." Jason's cheek twitched. Maybe it was his imagination, but he would've sworn she saw Aelia give him an amused sneer. His reaction must've been poor.

He needed to get a grip.

"The core expansion spell you'll soon learn will create a second layer to your core. That second layer acts as an amplifier and reservoir. Think of it like a powder keg. With only a flick of fire, you can get a destructive output. That's what it does. It takes a small amount of mana, amplifies it, and uses the aether and mana it touches in the atmosphere to make the attack.

"Observe." Aelia lifted her hand, and a chilly mana breeze passed through Jason. She created a tiny fireball and launched it upward. As it moved, it grew in size until Jason had to shield his eyes. Then it exploded.

"As you can see, a strong mage doesn't release pent-up energy. They use the aether in the atmosphere. Or, they simply steal it, depriving mana and aether from their enemies. All of that power comes from the second layer, which can process aether and release it.

"This is naturally a complicated subject. The bottom line is that once you expand your core, you will be gifted true power."

"And that's it?" Jason asked.

"Is that where potential ends? Aside from circulation and skill?"

"No. You can temper your body with special herbs that fuse your mana with your skin and muscles. You can cleanse your body to make it pure. And then there's your outer core. It also acts as a reservoir. As you kill beasts and"—she paused—" other entities, it will inhale the beast's mana, filling your core and solidifying it. The more it solidifies, the more aether you can affect in the atmosphere. So your road to power is just beginning." Jason liked the sound of that.

"Now pay attention to this ritual because if you do it improperly, you'll destroy your core and die of tyrexis alongside the king," Aelia said.

"Let's begin." Aelia's helpers started passing out small bottles.

"This is the royal cleansing elixir. You will take this and chant the runic language with me. The chant will change the flow of your mana circulation around your core in a specific way. The better you learned the runic language, the more refined your circulation will be. The more talented you are, the stronger the expansion will be. It's technically possible for you to leave stronger than Jason. So take this seriously." Jason felt a strange pang of anxiety as he looked for Daniel—the king of the runic language.

Wait. Where's Daniel? This is the only time that loser'll ever excel. Jason resented how slowly he learned the runic language, and dreaded people like Sara and Daniel surpassing him because they knew it well. Yet neither of them was there, and for whatever reason, that bothered Jason. It bothered him a lot. Jason popped the cork on the elixir, wishing Sara was there. If she were, maybe he would unlock something else. Get into prime condition.

Jason was so focused on Sara that he almost spat out the cleansing elixir due to the searing burn it left in his throat. It felt like the time he got a hot CAT scan. The cleansing elixir washed down his body as if his organs weren't there. Then it hit his core, and he cried out.

"And that's why you listen to instructions," Aelia snipped.

"You're lucky you didn't spit it out. We only have enough for this one attempt." Jason gritted his teeth. What was wrong with him? Sara. Sara was what was wrong with him. His— (mal puesto) — Fucker, he thought about Raul. Of all the days to tell him about his grandmother's superstitious feelings, today was the worst of them. He resented it. It made him wonder: did Raul tell him to throw him off? Jason didn't think he would do that. Then again, he did. He really did.

"Let's get started," Aelia said.

"Repeat after me: Ta tomhe tolikea makina se sesinto foraka…" Jason chanted. As he did, the memory of Sara's loving expression as he slid his sword against the ground came into view. The good dream. And then, he began to chant the runic spell in total unity with Aelia. Ta niakara ro fika morta ronta, he thought, somehow following her second stanza without her words. Then he continued. Mikina li fo morakana forlo pikee.

Mana from the zinconia crystals the helpers set up in front of each Chosen sucked into his core in a wild torrent. Soon, he was chanting the three stanzas, and the more he reflected on her face, the stronger he got. Unlike the others, he was given a baseball-sized rock of zinconia, the strongest magical crystal there was. Despite that, it didn't feel like it was enough. The entire atmosphere was warping around him, warping so definitively that he could feel it. This was power—raw power!

He remembered how to circulate and was given a head start at the most integral part. Jason grinned as he greedily sucked in mana. He thought he would create the perfect core, but then he suddenly remembered the redhead— (Emma) —dead on the horse and heard Sara scream, "Don't follow me!" and the mana around him warped and twisted in all the wrong directions.