Chapter Six: Dude, Where’s My Mana?

Zuglah learned Blast of Frost and Sleep in a single day. He had wanted to learn Mending and Mage Hand also, but Caldwell insisted that it was time to learn some real magic.

“Mage Armour is no Cantrip. It was designed with battle in mind, with keeping swords away from your person. Now, Trolls are very tough, it is true. Nearly impossible to pierce your flesh without magical means, almost completely immune to non-magical fire and cold. With Mage Armour active, you might go a long time without taking any actual damage.”

“I like the sound of that. What do we do?”

Caldwell introduced him to his spellbook. He removed the ink and quill from the back and unstoppered the ink. It was unlike any he had ever seen before, a river of golden diamonds set against a sea of black. The closest thing he could think of to compare it to was Canary’s Tears, but more like the “Live” potion. The one he tried not to think about.

Magical ink.

Transcribing a spell turned out to be an excellent way to memorize it. There was much less chance of forgetting any single element when he had spent a half hour drawing it out line by line.

There were no words with a spell. The words he had used with the cantrips, the gestures and snaps, all served as guide markers for the expression of mana. They were quickly internalized and no longer necessary. A spell, however, required the visualization of the entire symbol. Mana was pictured as entering the first letter of the first word. This was ignition. It appeared to be instantaneous but it was all happening in sequence so swift it was like an explosion.

He stood, reeling. Caldwell rushed over and took a hold of his elbow. “You shouldn’t stand up so fast. Did you feel it? Did it ring?”

“Like a bell.” He could not open his eyes for the vertigo. He felt around in front of him until he found his chair. Caldwell helped him to sit.

“That was quite a reaction. The first time is always the strongest. But I bet you have a pretty good look at Mage Armour when you close your eyes, don’t you?” He was grinning ear to ear, his love of all things magical apparent in every line of his body. “Try casting it.”

He nodded. Simple. It was already clear as a crystal ball in the forefront of his mind’s eye. It was simply a matter of adding mana. Nothing.

“I don’t understand. It didn’t even glow.” He tried again. Nothing.

“Unless…” Caldwell reached for his knife. He drew the long, slender poingard and held it delicately by the handle in two fingers. He tapped the blade against Zuglah’s chest.

It was stopped two inches short of reaching him. Caldwell’s white eyebrows rose like they were on leap. “I’ve never heard of this before.” His voice was quiet. Zuglah could tell that he wasn’t as excited as he had been, he was disturbed. He asked his teacher what he meant. “Well, it seems like you have cast a spell on paper. By writing it. I’m still not sure how.”

He could see the problem immediately. How on earth was he supposed to transcribe Fireball, if writing it down was going to cause his spellbook to explode? The problem was, he needed to activate his mana into the spell in order to sear it to the page. It was one of the properties of the ink.

He tried it again with Detect Magic. As soon as he finished the Seal, his spellbook began to take on a blueish glow. Caldwell made a frustrated noise. “Go change into your robes, my young friend. We need to sort this out.” Zuglah hurried away.

You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

The portal took them to the top of a tower alone on a hill. It was a squat tower, barely ten stories above the ground, but it was wide. The room at the top was spacious, with a vaulted ceiling unlike no other. There was a massive tube jutting through the roof, and it eventually grew smaller and smaller until it terminated in the middle of the room in front of a large, overstuffed chair.

Zuglah kept a respectful distance as Caldwell approached the two men gathered around the large green armchair with yellow flowers embroidered on it. His mentor produced his spellbook and showed it to them. Zuglah was vaguely startled to see that it was still pulsing with a blue aura. Why was it never the useful spells whose effects were long lasting?

Caldwell gestured him over, and he came to meet the two old men. Their names were Gass and Parker, and they were brothers. They were both full Humans, and much older than Caldwell. The yellow and green chair was on wheels, and Gass turned it around so that his brother Parker could face Zuglah without rising. Zuglah guessed that the man was no longer capable of standing.

His gaze, however, was still sharp. He took one look at Zuglah and turned back to Caldwell. “Well there’s your problem. He’s a Troll.” Gass gave him an embarrassed smile.

“Sorry about that. He’s old. I’m sure he was just kidding.”

But Parker wasn’t sorry, and he wasn’t kidding. He looked up at Zuglah. “No, really. You’re a Troll. Nothing wrong with it, just don’t make very good wizards is all.”

“Sorry, but why exactly? Why don’t we make good wizards?”

Parker shrugged. “It’s a matter of mana, isn’t it? Health isn’t the only thing you fellows regenerate, you know. Mana too.”

“We do? Caldwell, did you know that?” His teacher shook his head. He was as surprised as Zuglah.

“The real problem, you see, is that Trolls have the ability to mana dump. Just look at the Detect Magic on that grimoire. Going to be glowing all week. Makes them wonderful upcasters. Terribly difficult to control. Can be done, though, if you want it badly enough.”

Zuglah knew the answer to that immediately. He had never wanted anything more in his entire life. “Please. Tell me.”

“Take for example the new spell that the kids are all crazy about. What was it again, Caldwell? The Sacred Projectile?”

“The Dancing Mana, Parker.”

“Of course. Back in my day, we would measure ourselves against Fireball. After all, it’s what we’re famous for. Couldn’t wait to start throwing them around. But now it’s all about ‘how many missiles can you shoot? Ooh, twelve! Why, you must be very powerful indeed.’ Never mind that I could melt your bloody castle walls down.”

He was suggesting that Zuglah could practice controlling how many, or in his case how few, missiles he produced. And he just happened to know a certain white-haired Human who had purchased this spell recently. One problem, though.

“How do I write it down without blowing up my book?”

Parker was nodding. “There is a way, of course.”

It hit him. “I just have to dump all of my mana right before I complete the transcription. After all, I only need a drop for the seal.”

Parker smiled approvingly. “You have a very quick young student here, Caldwell. I look forward to seeing what you make of him. But write fast, young man. Trolls regenerate very quickly.”

The brothers bade them stay for lunch, and before they left Gass came bustling up with a couple of scrolls in each hand. “These are the only low level spells I could find. It’s not much, but we certainly don’t need them.” He couldn’t believe his luck. The first scroll read “Shield,” and the second one “Ice Blade.” There was also “Burning Hands,” and “Identify.”

Dumping all of his mana was not as simple as casting spells until he exhausted it all. He couldn’t do it. He just could not mentally cast spells fast enough. So Caldwell guided him and he meditated. He visited the tarn.

He floated within, and it floated within him. They were one and the same. It was so peaceful that he was tempted to savour the moment. But instead he imagined returning the mana out of his body, back into the tarn. Draining through the bottom of his feet. All of it.

He opened his eyes. He tried to blink. Nothing.

It worked. He was finally able to write Dancing Mana into his spellbook. When he asked Caldwell whether or not he ought to jot down the rest, he shook his head. “Better not,” he said. “You will end up memorizing at least one. I think that it would be best to limit the number of spells that you enter with. That way you aren’t confused when the hills start a-howling.”

“Hmm. If I had known that, I might have chosen differently. I have a theory about the undead that I am looking forward to testing.”

Caldwell was intrigued. “A theory, you say? All right, then. In the pursuit of Truth, let us test out this theory of yours. You may choose one more spell.”

He chose The Ice Blade.