A Gentleman's Curse

Wrong

I was wrong! I was so horribly wrong!

Leaping up the stairs in a full sprint, I launch my body onto the wall in front of me, absorbing the impact with my legs. Once crouched on the wall, I extend my legs and leap off to the left slightly, performing a hastily crafted u-turn while conserving as much momentum as I could.

I am running for my life. Presumably. She wouldn't kill me, right?

Two steps out of the leaping turn and I have my answer to that question as a ball of fire slams into the wall at the top of the stairs I'd jumped onto.

Nodding, I renew my determination and continue my sprint towards Garrett's office.

"Get over here you little prick!" A demon shouts from behind me.

I chance a glance back and see death incarnate. Six-year-old girl, white hair, red eyes, fire in her hands... and her eyes.

That's new.

Looking back forward, I cry in relief that the door to the study is slightly ajar from my practice this morning.

Barreling into the corner of the door, I crash it open and continue my mad dash for the other side of the room. Using my left foot, I launch my body into the air to land on the step ladder with my right foot where I once again launch my body upward to land on the desk. One more step and with all the momentum I'd built from the hallway till now, I position my arms in front of my head and send my body rocketing towards the window behind the desk, obliterating the shutters and leaving me fifteen feet high in the air without a plan.

How did it come to this? I'm glad you asked, let's go back a bit to this morning.

~~~~~

Stretching his arms above his head, Vistiel had begun his morning like every other. However, unlike usual, he'd been granted the privilege of sleeping in. Vanessa would be coming by later that day with her niece so his caretakers didn't want him looking tired. Presumably, she'd chided them for overworking him last time she'd visited, so now whenever she came over they'd made sure he was well rested.

Vistiel didn't particularly mind either way. He enjoyed the practice with mana. Since he'd learned to manipulate it two months ago he'd taken leaps and bounds forward, surprising both Garrett and Emily. It had taken him nearly a month before he had enough finesse with his mana to be comfortable enough to begin the process of rumination and for this last month, he'd been steadily improving his bodies constitution and control of the mana inside himself.

In the beginning, he could feel the difference in leaps and bounds. His strength, speed, and senses were improving by almost a quarter what they'd been at the start in just a few days. After the first week, the differences became less pronounced, and now he barely felt he'd even spent a day meditating. The first few days had made this last week lackluster in comparison, but he was getting stronger and it was foolish to think it would stay at so drastic a pace. If it did, he could become nothing less than a superhuman within a month, let alone a year.

Now, he was sitting around a little more than one and three-quarter times what he'd been at the start. He knew this because he'd been testing himself daily with weights and other various means of measurement. How far can a rock be thrown, how fast can he go from one side of his yard to the other, how long did it take before he tired out, at what point could he hear Emily coming up the stairs to drag him to dinner... etc.

'You get out what you put into it,' Emily had said, and he could already tell she'd been right. If you took someone who cared little for getting stronger and someone whose life depended on it and had them compete to see who would come out stronger after a year of rumination, who do you think would come out on top?