Part 1 Trial and Error
The room was quiet again not the peaceful kind of quiet, but the heavy kind where nothing interrupts your thoughts, and that itself becomes the problem. Adrian sat on the edge of the bed with his elbows on his knees, staring at the wall as if it had personally wronged him.
"...Alright," he muttered to the empty room. "Let's do something stupid. But, like... controlled stupid. Preferably."
He leaned back, exhaling slowly. Seven days that was the number he'd finally landed on. If his theory was right, and if the timing lined up properly, then seven days here should equal roughly one day back on Earth.
The weight of the realization hit him. "...I've basically got overtime on reality," he said quietly. He paused. "...That feels illegal."
No runes appeared to grant him a glowing confirmation. There was just that same faint awareness sitting behind his thoughts, watching and waiting.
"...Right," Adrian said, nodding once. "So we test it the old-fashioned way: trial, error, and ideally, not dying."
He stood up, stretching slightly. His body still felt different not wrong, exactly, but tighter and more responsive, as if something under the surface had been completely rearranged. He flexed his fingers, and there it was again: that slight delay, that almost invisible stretch before everything snapped back into place.
"...Yeah, still not normal."
He grabbed his coat and headed for the door. "Step one," he said, pulling it open. "Figure out what I can actually do on purpose."
The forest didn't feel quite as hostile this time. It was still dangerous and still fundamentally wrong, but it was no longer unfamiliar. Adrian walked between the trees at a steady pace, his eyes scanning his surroundings and his posture relaxed, though far from careless.
"...Okay, No lakes today. We've learned our lesson. Mostly."
He stopped when he reached a small clearing. It was open enough to move around in, but covered enough that he wouldn't get jumped immediately. It was good enough for his purposes.
"...Alright," he said, rolling his shoulders. "Magic."
The word still felt weird rolling off his tongue. He held out his hand and focused, making sure not to force the sensation, but instead just... remembering.
Heat. Pressure. That exact moment from before the runes flickered faintly behind his eyes, not fully forming, but simply reacting to his memory. Then, a spark appeared: small, weak, and gone in an instant.
Adrian blinked. "...Cool," he said flatly. "Great start."
He tried again, this time pushing a little more. He didn't use enough force to break the connection, just enough to guide the energy. The air around his hand warmed faintly, and then, a flicker caught. A small burst of flame appeared, hovered for half a second, and then collapsed into nothing.
"...Okay," he nodded slowly. "Progress." He lowered his hand, thinking it through. "Not instant. Not stable. Needs... something." He glanced down at his fingers again. "...Intent worked before. And stress."
He looked around the clearing. Nothing was immediately trying to kill him, which, for once, was actually inconvenient. "...Alright," he sighed. "Guess we're doing this the slow way."
The next hour was... not impressive. Adrian stood in the clearing, repeatedly trying to summon the exact same thing over, and over, and over again. Most attempts ended the exact same way: a flicker, a spark, and then nothing. At one point, a small burst of flame did appear in his palm, hovered momentarily, and then shot sideways to strike a nearby tree.
"...Okay," Adrian said, watching the smoldering bark. "So it's got opinions. Good to know." He rubbed his face in exhaustion. "...This is going to take a while."
Day two was better not dramatically, but enough to notice. The flame appeared much more often now. It was still unstable and inconsistent, but it stayed around longer, hovered closer to his hand, and responded slightly to his focus.
Adrian stood there with his arm extended, staring at the flickering flame hovering just above his palm. It pulsed and wavered, looking like it couldn't quite decide if it actually wanted to exist.
"...Yeah, still the...same I guess."
The flame collapsed. He exhaled slowly, bracing himself. "...Alright. Again."
Day three brought the first real change. This time, the flame didn't just appear; it actively formed. It wasn't perfect or clean, but the magic gathered, compressed, and pulled inward, as if an invisible force was finally shaping it.
Adrian's eyes narrowed slightly. "...Okay, Something new."
The fire coiled into a rough, unstable sphere in his hand. Its edges flickered wildly, but it stayed contained—for a second, then two, before bursting apart into nothing. Adrian stared at his open palm, then nodded slowly. "...Alright, we're getting somewhere."
By day five, it finally clicked. It wasn't perfect or smooth, but it was enough. Adrian stood in the clearing again with his arm raised and his focus sharp. He didn't force it, and he didn't rush it; he just pulled. Heat gathered instantly no longer slow or hesitant, but fast and highly responsive. The air around his hand shimmered, and then it formed. A dense, stable sphere of fire hovered just above his palm. It wasn't huge or overwhelming, but it was contained, pulsing faintly like a heartbeat.
Adrian stared at it for a moment. "...Okay, That's actually working."
He turned his hand slightly, and the sphere shifted right along with it, perfectly controlled. A small smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth. "...Huh. Alright, that's definitely going on the useful list."
Right as he said it, the sphere flickered, wavered, and collapsed into nothing. Adrian lowered his hand slowly. "...And that's the downside. Still burns out fast."
Day six was all about refinement. It became less about creating the fire and more about consistency. He practiced the same loop over and over again: summon, hold, release. Each time he did it, the process got faster, cleaner, and more reliable. It was still inefficient and draining, but it was entirely usable.
Adrian stood there, summoning the fireball once more. It formed almost instantly now, hovering in his palm with stable, controlled energy. He watched it for a second. "...Alright," he muttered, "that's close enough to 'on command.'" He closed his fist, and the fire collapsed immediately. "...Yeah, I can work with that."
On day seven, he pushed his limits because of course he did. That was just how these things always went.
"...Just a little more," Adrian raising his hand again.
The fire gathered instantly, forming into something much stronger, brighter, and denser than before. Adrian narrowed his eyes. "...Okay, that's another new thing I learned"
The heat spiked sharply far too sharply. The sphere began to tremble violently as the system runes flickered back into view:
— Output Increasing —
— Stability Decreasing —
Adrian frowned slightly at the text. "...Yeah, that's usually how that goes."
The fireball pulsed dangerously, and before it could blow up in his face, he released it. It shot forward like a rocket, slamming into a tree with a loud crack and a sharp burst of flame. The impact deeply scorched the bark, blackening the surface instantly.
Adrian stared at the smoking wood for a moment, then exhaled a long breath. "...Okay. Note to self: don't overdo it."
He rolled his shoulder slightly as a wave of fatigue hit him. It wasn't overwhelming, but it was definitely noticeable. "...Right, so it's still highly inefficient." He paused, glancing down to flex his fingers. His hand was still responsive, but it still felt entirely unnatural. "...Yeah. This isn't going to stay simple, is it?"
The forest didn't answer him, but it never did. Adrian turned and began heading back toward Stonehollow. His seven-day test was complete. The magic was only partially under his control still rough, incomplete, and dangerous but it was undeniably his.
"...Alright," he muttered under his breath as the trees began to thin out. "That's one problem slightly less terrible." He paused. "...Probably replaced by a much worse one."
He stepped back onto the main road leading into town, and for once, absolutely nothing tried to kill him.
Adrian blinked. "...well for once nothing tried to attack or eat me."
Part 2 The Whizziest Wizard
The transition was much smoother this time. There was no disorientation, and no collapsing sense of reality folding in on itself. There was just a simple, sudden shift.
Adrian blinked.
He was back in his apartment. It was the same room, the same ceiling, and the exact same faint crack in the corner that he'd stared at way too many times already.
"...Okay," sitting up slightly on the mattress. "That's becoming a pattern."
He looked toward the clock on the wall, paused, and then leaned forward to get a closer look. "...No way."
Barely any time had passed at all. It had been minutes—not hours, and definitely not days. Adrian ran a hand through his hair, exhaling a long, slow breath.
"...Alright," he said quietly into the empty room. "That's real. That's actually real."
Seven whole days in the forest had amounted to this. He leaned back against the wall, staring up at the ceiling again. "...Yeah, That's either going to be incredibly useful... or it's a terrible idea waiting to happen. Probably both."
The sudden smell of breakfast pulled him out of his thoughts. He stepped out of his bedroom and into the kitchen. His grandmother was already there, moving exactly like she always did—steady, practiced, and completely unaware that her grandson had just spent a week in another world.
"...Morning," Adrian said.
She glanced over from the counter. "You're up early."
"Couldn't sleep," he replied, which, technically, wasn't even a lie anymore.
She studied his face for a second, then gave a sharp nod. "Eat something before you leave."
Adrian stepped forward and grabbed a piece of toast. "...Actually," he said casually, "I might be working overtime today."
She frowned slightly, turning around. "Overtime?"
"Yeah," he shrugged, keeping his tone light. "Might be late. Maybe even back tomorrow."
She gave him a long, knowing look. "...Don't skip meals."
Adrian raised the piece of toast slightly in a silent toast. "Wouldn't dream of it. I've got a reputation to maintain."
She snorted softly, turning back to the stove. "Go."
The storage unit was exactly where he left it, which was still unsettling in a very quiet way. Adrian stepped inside and closed the heavy metal door behind him.
"...Alright," he said, rolling his shoulders slightly. "Round two."
He didn't hesitate this time, nor did he overthink it. He just focused his mind with clear, simple intent. I'm going back.
The runes formed instantly:
— Return Path — Available —
"...Yeah," Adrian muttered, a small sense of satisfaction washing over him. "That's getting easier."
He stepped forward, and the world folded once more.
Stonehollow greeted him as if nothing had changed at all. It had the same streets, the same noise, and the same underlying tension of a place that knew it was always just one bad day away from becoming a total disaster.
Adrian walked toward the guild hall with his hands jammed deep into his pockets. "...Alright," he muttered to himself. "Seven more days. Let's not make this week worse than the last. Or, at least, not immediately."
The guild hall didn't fall completely silent this time, but the volume definitely dipped. It was just a slight lull, but it was enough to notice. Adrian stepped inside and scanned the room, greeting the same faces, the same guarded glances, and the same careful watching.
"...That's not going away anytime soon."
He began to make his way toward the counter when a voice suddenly boomed through the room. "Ah! There he is!"
Adrian stopped dead in his tracks and slowly turned around. "...I'm already concerned."
The man approaching him looked like someone who had read entirely too many books about wizards and had decided to become one out of pure spite. He wore bright, unnecessarily detailed robes, carried a staff because of course he had a staff and wore a grin that suggested he thoroughly enjoyed being exactly this dramatic.
He stopped directly in front of Adrian, proudly placing a hand on his own chest. "Benjamin Dazzle," he declared. "Stonehollow's whizziest wizard."
Adrian stared at him blankly for a second. "...That's not a real title."
Benjamin didn't miss a single beat. "It is if you believe hard enough."
"...I don't."
"That sounds like a personal problem."
Adrian exhaled a long, slow breath. "...Right. This is happening."
Benjamin leaned in slightly, lowering his voice but definitely not his energy. "I hear you've been using magic."
Adrian raised an eyebrow. "...I hear people talk too much."
"Details," Benjamin said, waving it off with a flick of his wrist. "The point is, you're a fellow mage."
"...That's generous," Adrian whispers.
Benjamin pointed a finger at him. "Ah! Humble. I like that."
Adrian didn't respond, mostly because he wasn't entirely sure how to answer a man like this.
Benjamin straightened up. "So," he continued, "how would you like to join me on a Scar hunt?"
Adrian blinked. "...You say that like it's a casual weekend activity."
"It is if you're prepared," Benjamin said confidently.
"...And are we?"
Benjamin's smile grew even wider. "That's what makes it fun."
Adrian looked at him, then at the exit door, then back at him. "...I'm starting to see why people don't volunteer for this."
Benjamin clapped his hands together once with a sharp smack. "Excellent! That's a yes."
"...That wasn't a yes."
"It had the energy of one."
Soon enough, they were back in the forest. Adrian was seriously beginning to suspect he just lived here now.
"...Alright," he muttered, looking around the dense treeline, "what's the plan?"
Benjamin twirled his staff with practiced ease. "We train."
Adrian blinked. "...Before the part where we get eaten?"
"Precisely."
"...Good. Priorities."
They stopped once they reached a wide clearing. Benjamin planted the base of his staff firmly into the ground. "Magic," he began, pacing slightly as if addressing a classroom, "is not just raw power. It's structure. It's control. It's understanding the elements and how they interact."
Adrian folded his arms slightly. "...And I'm guessing I'm currently failing at all three."
Benjamin pointed at him again. "Rapidly improving at all three."
"...That somehow doesn't sound any better."
Benjamin crouched down, scooping up a handful of dirt from the forest floor. "Earth magic," he explained, "is all about shaping what already exists." He gestured toward a nearby patch of damp ground. "Sand. Water."
As he spoke, the earth shifted slowly and deliberately. The soil thickened, darkened, and turned into a pool of heavy mud.
Adrian watched the transformation carefully. "...Okay," he said, "that makes sense."
Benjamin smiled. "Good. Now you try."
Adrian crouched down and picked up a handful of dirt. "...Alright," he muttered, "sand, water, and questionable life choices."
He focused. He didn't force the energy this time; he just guided it. The ground beneath his fingers responded slowly and clumsily. The dirt began to darken, but it almost immediately collapsed back into a dry heap.
"...Yeah," Adrian said flatly, brushing off his hands. "That tracks."
Benjamin nodded, unfazed. "Again."
By day three, it finally held barely. Adrian stood over a small patch of mud with his hands slightly raised. The damp earth trembled, then lifted into the air. It was unstable and constantly shifting, but it was undeniably formed.
"...Okay," watching it float. "That's something."
Benjamin clapped his hands together once. "Excellent! Now—shape it."
"...That sounds like a bad idea."
"Do it anyway."
By day five, the structure was forming much faster and cleaner. It was still rough around the edges and highly inefficient, but it was functional. A heavy lump of mud rose from the forest floor, wrapped itself securely around a small rock, and began to harden. A second later, however, it cracked wide open and fell apart.
Adrian exhaled a long breath. "...Almost had it."
Benjamin nodded encouragingly. "You did. Now do it again."
"...I'm noticing a painful theme here."
On day seven, it actually worked. It wasn't perfect or clean, but it was enough to get the job done.
Adrian raised his hand, and the ground responded much faster this time. The mud formed instantly, lifted into the air, and wrapped itself completely around a makeshift target Benjamin had set up. The trap closed tightly, encasing the target in a rough, uneven, but entirely solid shell of hardened earth.
Adrian stared at his handiwork. "...well thats a weird texture."
Benjamin beamed with pride. "Earth Coffin!"
Adrian nodded slowly. "...Yeah, that needs a much better name."
"It does not."
"It really does."
Benjamin studied him for a moment, his gaze lingering longer than usual. "...You don't cast like a normal mage."
Adrian glanced at him, flexing his fingers. "Yeah," he said quietly, "I've been getting that a lot lately."
The sun dipped lower beneath the horizon, bringing their training session to an end for the day. Benjamin rested his staff casually over his shoulder. "So," he asked, turning toward the deeper treeline, "ready for the hunt?"
Adrian looked out at the darkening forest, then down at his hands. Fire and earth—both elements were working now. They weren't perfect, but they were usable.
"...Yeah," as he fell into step beside the wizard. "...Which is probably a very bad sign."
Part 3 Time Doesn't Lie
The transition back was easy too easy. Adrian barely even felt the shift this time. One second he was standing in the forest, and the next, he was back in his own bedroom. He was in the exact same position, breathing the same familiar air, staring up at the same faint crack in the ceiling that was starting to feel like a personal checkpoint.
"...Okay," blinking once as he adjusted to the room. "I don't like how normal that's becoming."
He sat there for a second, then immediately snapped his head toward the clock on the wall. He focused, measured the time, and waited. "...No way."
Barely any time had passed at all. Again. It wasn't even close. Adrian leaned forward slowly, resting his elbows on his knees. "...Alright," he said quietly. "That confirms it. Seven days there is exactly one day on Earth."
He let out a slow, heavy breath. "...Yeah. That's not just useful. That's dangerous. Also incredibly convenient." He rubbed his face in exhaustion. "...I'm definitely going to regret this later."
The smell of breakfast hit him again. At this point, it felt like a constant in his life. Adrian stood up and stepped into the kitchen. His grandmother was already there, moving around with that same steady rhythm that made everything else feel normal, grounded, and real.
She glanced over at him—and paused. It was just for a second, but it was long enough. "...You're up early again."
Adrian grabbed a glass of water from the sink. "Yeah," he said casually, taking a sip. "Couldn't sleep."
She didn't respond immediately. Instead, she just looked at him, her gaze lingering far longer than usual. Adrian noticed, of course. "...What?" he asked.
She narrowed her eyes slightly. "You've lost weight."
Adrian blinked. "...Have I?"
"Don't 'have I' me," she said, crossing her arms tightly. "You have."
He looked down at himself. The change was subtle, but it was definitely there. His shirt sat differently on his frame, feeling noticeably looser around his middle.
"...Huh, I guess I have gotten leaner."
She didn't look amused at all. "Are you eating properly?"
Adrian leaned against the counter, keeping his voice completely calm. "Of course I am."
She raised an eyebrow. "Then why are you getting thinner?"
Adrian shrugged slightly. "...Working more, I guess."
It wasn't entirely a lie; it was just missing a few massive details, like the part where he was spending a week at a time fighting for his life in an alternate reality.
She studied him again, still not fully convinced. "You're not skipping meals?"
Adrian shook his head. "Nope."
A heavy pause hung in the air. Then, with perfect timing, he added dryly, "I mean, you've been feeding me for years. This doesn't just disappear overnight. I've got reserves."
She stared at him for a beat, then huffed softly, turning back to the stove. "...Just make sure you're eating."
"Yes, ma'am."
Back in his room, the quiet returned. Adrian closed the door behind him and leaned against it for a moment, letting the mask slip. "...Alright, so that's confirmed."
The time difference was real, consistent, useful, and incredibly dangerous, all at the same time. He pushed off the door and walked over to the mirror. He stopped and looked really looked at his reflection.
The change wasn't dramatic yet, but it was undeniable. There was less bulk and more definition. His shoulders were still wide and his frame was still solid, but everything looked cleaner and leaner.
"...Yeah," he said quietly to his reflection. "...That's not normal."
It wasn't natural to transform at that speed, even with the excuse of "working more." He flexed his hand again, watching that slight, unnatural delay that almost invisible stretch before his fingers snapped back into place.
"...And you're still doing that," he added, narrowing his eyes at his own hand. He paused, letting his arm drop to his side. "...Great."
The runes flickered in his vision faint, subtle, and not fully forming, but undeniably present.
Adrian stared at them. "...You again."
There was no response, of course. There never was.
He exhaled slowly. "...Alright," he said, pushing himself away from the mirror. "Let's think this through."
The list of changes was growing rapidly: the time advantage, the training acceleration, the sudden physical changes, and his expanding magical development. It was all stacking and all increasing far faster than normal, and far faster than what felt safe.
"...Yeah," he muttered to the empty room. "This is either going to work really well..." He paused for a beat. "...Or go very, very wrong."
He grabbed his coat again, already moving. Staying still wasn't helping him anymore, and thinking too much wasn't helping either. On the other hand, testing had worked, and training had worked. So, that was exactly what he was going to keep doing.
He paused at the door, his hand resting heavily on the handle.
"...Alright," he said quietly to himself. "...Next step."
He let out a small exhale. "...Don't make this worse."
He pulled the door open. "...Or at least not immediately."