I was confident in my ability to detect and maneuver mana considering yesterday's feat. I'm not that prideful to call it a feat, it's obvious with my over seven decades of experience I'd out pace my siblings. It's simply not very fair to compare us.

Walking a little closer to the target my father indicated, I began visualizing my next move. I would grab the water sphere from a pinched tail and quickly extend it until only a sizable tip that generated high velocity cracked in the air and struck the face of the dummy. A water whip.

The overhead gesture of cracking a whip was just a guide for me to more easily control the way in which the whip moved, it wasn't necessary to get the water to strike in that way and add no real force to the swing. 

Water tore at the burlap covering the wooden interior of the dummy, I retracted the snake-like liquid back into the original shape I conjured.

"You continue to impress, eh Freddy? You didn't even need the chant. I guess explaining things properly leads to this."

My father began theorizing how I came to be this way. Sorry dad, I've actually got an entire lifetime worth of wiki searches in my head.

"Oh! But I guess you still need something to do. Normally, I'd wait until you're a little older but I guess if you've already got the aptitude, we're gonna work on your mana pool."

"How does that work?"

"Well it's pretty simple, you see that drain over there? See how much water you can poor into it before you start to feel tired. Take this warning seriously Fred, don't go over what makes you tired, what lies beyond that feeling is not good."

"Okay. Um, Father could I ask you something?"

"What is it?"

"When do I get to learn the rest of the set?"

"I think you're capable of casting the other magics already, but thanks for reminding me. Here's another word of caution, don't try to do what you just did with any of the rest of the set, it could be very dangerous to you and your siblings. I'm lucky you knew right away not to let the fire touch you yesterday, but lightning can get out of hand faster than you can react if you don't know what you're doing. And I don't know what your limit is so asking you to do wind and earth are out of the question."

"Why?"

"Well because they have a greater cost to conjure up like you did with the water and fire, and those magics don't exactly like to be made flexible."

"I understand."

I did as my dad asked and started dropping globs of water into the drain. He was paying close attention. I tried making the orbs of water larger but after they reached around my height they wouldn't get any bigger. Does it have to do with my mana pool?

I dropped the massive orb and then got to work making yet another one, similarly the mass of water only reached a size equal to myself. I managed another seven before I finally started to feel the faint fatigue my father warned me about. 

"Done already?"

"Yeah."

"That's about the capacity I estimated you'd be capable of given your age. Still it's impressive considering you didn't even have to learn the chant first or even see what's supposed to look like."

"Ahaha, you're just a great teacher father."

My father's face immediately turned to a stern and serious look.

"Freddy, you read more often than any of your siblings and more than I would ever ask you to. You express yourself how I'd expect your older brother to do so. Don't think everything in your life is determined by others, you're special because of yourself and your own efforts, okay? Be proud, you exceed even my hopes and expectations of you."

I remember hearing something similar from my old parents, but I won't disappoint like last time. I can do so much better now, I know I can. I truly believed those thoughts.

Waking with bated breaths, I ended up getting up earlier than I usually do. Ugh. A nightmare was the cause. It seemed there was something about getting into a whole mindset of being afraid that doesn't make for the most restful sleep.

It didn't bother me too much. At least this time I made sure to head to the kitchen first to eat a hearty breakfast. The maid, Carmin, was happy to serve me eggs, a soft piece of bread, and a small piece of chicken.

"Thank you Carmin!"

"There's no need young master, it's my pleasure."

I handed her my clean plate and headed off to the dojo.

I felt a little sore, whether it was the swings with the wooden baton or the over exertion of my mana, I couldn't tell. Does using magic extensively even make you sore?

So many questions, I still can't answer. 

Although, this soreness didn't even come close to the creaking and aching bones my old body had.

I put more time into mastering the first technique before I dared to move on. Switching from the baton to the heavier but longer sized wooden sword, I was able to start practicing on the dummy. I discovered something special after the first swing, the dummy would restore itself after a period since the last received hit. 

I noticed when after a brief moment where I had left a dent from my strike it suddenly expanded back into place and even covered itself back in the burlap cloth.

After several good swings I felt comfortable enough to look at the manual again for the next technique.

For a second I was left dumbfounded, the technique I was presented seemed like a ridiculous feat of pure athleticism. There were of course variations on how it could look when performed correctly. However, it's a technique for running away. This was made obvious by the name given on the pages of the manual.

"Coward's Fleeting Escape."

The only illustration that made sense to me was a picture of a man stepping back suddenly and using his hand to better direct himself and compensate the change of the center of gravity. Rather than embarrass myself, I made sure to get into that feeling again. I thought back to the nightmare from this morning, I was being sought by a grotesque demon that looked like a tree had organs springing out of it. 

I shuddered as I projected the image of the nightmare onto the dummy. I jumped back and right before my ass would hit the ground I managed to grip the firm ground with my fingertips and slide myself even further back. 

Then like a nightmare made into reality the dummy followed me at an impossible speed. I freaked out and did the technique again, the dummy continued its pursuit. I recalled the other illustration that utilized a sword rather than my hand. I flung myself once more with my legs and used my sword like a vaulting pole by thrusting it into the ground, this allowed me to cover an even greater distance. 

The dummy was relentless. This cycle continued for a good while until I couldn't bear it anymore. I gave the dummy a strike using the first technique I learned. As if pacified the terrifying dummy returned back to where it had been when I first saw it. 

The mark I left on it was clear to see for a brief instant before the dummy quickly restored itself. I was able to leave a deep gash in spite of only using this wholly dull and slightly weighted practice sword made of wood.

"That's something, I guess this dojo's got more than a couple tricks made for this style."

If my ancestors were willing to construct several chambers for the collection of massive novels of fiction, history, and magic, then it's not surprising one or several of them interested in a sword style would go this extra mile to accommodate learning it.

I have to savor these kinds of precious tools and creative efforts by them, they really wanted the best for those that came after. I almost felt moved enough to shed a few tears. Maybe this is from being a child too.

For father's lesson today I listened on as he explained the water cycle to me and my siblings. What followed was the same monotonous exercise as yesterday, only this time I felt I could make another sphere of water than last time. It was minimal but I see what my father meant by 'simple'. Raising my mana pool is a repetitive process that forced me to use as much magic as I could before getting tired like lifting to the point right before failure. The consequences might've been similar a whole day of being incapable of using the muscle in a meaningful way and the another day of intense soreness. 

Dad did warn it's worse that just feeling tired so I'm not going to tempt fate by straining myself anymore than necessary.

"Done already?"

"Yep."

"Good, you can go ahead and head to dinner early if you wish, your mother wanted to share something with you today anyway."

"Alright."

Before I ran off I gave the old man a hug. It's awkward in my head sometimes to act like a child, but then I remember it's not an act. I am a child, and I should appreciate my parents while I still have them around.

When I was still the old man I wished I could go back to those days, I missed them awfully.