We didn’t get much more of a lesson in before the packs arrived, but what we did get felt valuable. Some of it Cadoc already knew, but much of it he didn’t - and, of course, I knew nothing.

Even with my encouragement, it took a long time to get anything out of Amaia, though, so here’s the condensed version:

Magic is divided into ranks called Rings: the First Ring, Second Ring, etc. Within each Ring, there are spells that you can learn. But you can’t just learn any spell.

When you kill a monster - specifically, the first monster you kill at your level - you absorb its power. This gives you a broad category of magic to work with - and the instinctive knowledge of one spell in that category. My “category” (Amaia called it a “school”) was fire, it seemed. Cadoc’s was probably something like “wood,” and Amaia’s was “metal.”

So those two things together give you what type of magic you can use, in addition to the other limitations, of course, like body-mages only being able to cast spells on themselves. I was able to use First Ring fire magic on my nails, Cadoc was able to use First Ring wood(?) magic on his surroundings(?), and Amaia was able to use Second Ring (or First Ring) metal magic on items.

“So wait a minute,” I said, interrupting the lesson. “You can only use magic on items? You can’t just shoot a ball of metal at someone?” I was imagining the possibility of a magical gun.

Amaia shook her head. “Only items. It’s called enchanting. I’m an enchanter.”

Cadoc chimed in. “But she can use it on other people’s items, yes? That’s still very useful.”

“What determines an ‘item?,’” I asked. “Is a building an item?”

“No…” she paused for a moment, thinking, before speaking again. “If you can hold it in your hands, and it doesn’t breath, it’s an item.”

“What about a dead bird?” I asked, immediately trying to find the limits to the system.

Amaia scratched her head. “I don’t know.”

“Fair enough, I guess.” I thought some more. “What about Cadoc? He can just do anything? That’s doesn’t really seem fair.”

“Life’s not fair, friend,” Cadoc responded, smiling.

“He’s a conjurer,” Amaia answered. “He can make something from nothing. Not literally nothing, but from his own mana. But he can’t affect his own body, or another’s, or items.”

“I see,” Cadoc and I both answered, in unison.

To go up a rank, Amaia told us, you had to master the school you were in, at that Ring you were in. This was done in a number of ways - killing monsters (especially those related to the school), drinking special potions made for that purpose, using your spells in that school often, and even simply meditating on the nature of the school. That last method was the slowest, but also the safest. Ultimately, advancing was a matter of knowledge, skill, and power - all of which were best obtained through combat, even against monsters who weren’t related to your school.

“Then glory awaits us!” Cadoc said. “What are we waiting around here for? Let’s go fight some monsters.”

I reminded him what we were waiting around for, and then it arrived. Two backpacks - one originally from this world, and the other from mine - slowly faded in, if that makes any sense. It was like slowly dragging an opacity slider from 0 to 100.

I ran to them immediately, tearing into them like a child on Christmas morning. Yes! I thought to myself. I’ve done it. Finally I can enjoy my rewards.

The bags were lighter than they had been, but I knew that would be the case. RENA had sold off the coins and gold and such, which had been most of what was in my pack. I’d have to ask where my debt stood. Later.

I dumped out the contents of the packs - but slowly, careful not to break anything.

There were two books - Cadoc had swiped those - and four potions - one of which I knew to be highly flammable, unless that had been part of Berenguer’s illusion, as well. Hmm.

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There were also three rolled scrolls, which Cadoc had believed to be magical. They’d better be, because they were bulky, and took up a lot of room.

And finally, fishing around in my pack, I found a little ring, made of dull metal. If it had been a golden ring, RENA probably would have sold it, but this one looked worthless. It almost looked like a piece of machinery, actually. But who knows what it might actually be made of. I set it down with the rest of the pile.

And that was it. It looked much more meager after subtracting the stuff RENA sold, but I had to remind myself of two things - one, that paying off my debt was the whole reason I was here, so getting all of that sold was great, and two, that even just one of these books might be invaluable. Amaia had just been telling us how spellbooks were one of the ways of learning a new spell in your school.

“What books did you get, Cadoc?” I asked, reaching for one of them.

“The most practical ones that I could locate,” he responded. “I cannot guarantee that they will help us, but I think they may. Perhaps I would have chosen the books differently if I’d known what I know now about magic, truly.”

I opened the first book - which was unmarked, like all the ones I had seen in the library - and turned to the first page.

“Floramancy: A Brief Introduction to Plant-Based Magic,” I read aloud. I handed the book to Cadoc. “I think this one’s yours.”

He took it, and I grabbed the next book, silently praying for something useful. This one was heavily worn - some of the pages were loose inside the covers, and the binding was wearing fraying from use. I turned to the first page.

“Destruction: Spells of Unmaking,” I read. “Intimidating title, but…” I started flipping through the pages.

The book covered a wide range of spells from many different schools, though fire spells were represented fairly well. The problem was, the book seemed made primarily for a conjurer, not a body mage. Which makes sense, I thought. Who would ever cast a spell like “explode” or “crush” on their own bodies?

I looked to Amaia. “Can a body-mage learn normal spells? Like, I use something like “ignite” now, right, and a conjurer or enchanter could probably also learn ignite, I would imagine. So even if a spell is made for a conjurer, could I use it?”

Amaia shook her head. “You are the first body-mage I have ever met.”

I laughed. “That’s not encouraging. Makes my chances of reaching the Second Ring seem pretty bad, huh?”

Cadoc was reading his book, and didn’t even look up as he spoke. “Most people wouldn’t even consider you to be in the First Ring, friend. That’s why the guard didn’t let you in. A body-mage who can’t even increase his muscles is basically a polluted, as they see it.”

“Great,” I said, and turned back to the book. Amaia might not know the answer, but it sounds right. And what else is there? Drink random potions and hope for magical powers? There can’t be any harm in trying to cast a spell.

In the end, I chose “melt.” It seemed the least likely to horribly backfire, and seemed mildly useful. If I threw some nails at someone, perhaps I could melt them a little so that they stick, and then I’d ignite them. Something like that.

The book also didn’t have many First Ring spells. Explode sounded cool, for instance, but it was a higher Ring spell. Maybe someday. As long as I was careful not to blow off my fingertips.

Amaia asked us both if she could take a look at the scrolls, but I was already reading, and ignored her. I think Cadoc answered her. I had sat down again, legs crossed.

I had been using much fewer nails than I grew, so my pockets were always full of nails. I thought that maybe it would be easier to learn a new spell if I had a larger target, so I set a piles of nails on the dirt floor in front of me.

This spell, unlike most in the book, was clearly for enchanters, because the instructions went like this:

Greetings, enchanter. So, you’ve decided to walk the path of destruction with us. We welcome you.

Mages of lesser stock consider destruction the sole domain of the conjurer, but a clever mage knows the value of an open mind. Enchanters can become great practitioners of the destructive arts, if they are wise and well-guided.

First, you must set aside all you know of enchanting. Typically, the enchanter uses his powers to strengthen his weapons and armor, or those of his allies. Forget this notion. You do not strengthen, now. You weaken. You destroy.

There is a fire that burns inside of you, enchanter. Perhaps you have used it to enflame an arrow, or to temper a blade. Remember that feeling, if you can. The flames. And reverse it.

I obviously couldn’t relate to that, so I skipped ahead.

If you are a rank beginner, let us start here. Feel the fire that burns, the pool of mana in your body like a burning lake. Focus on it. Feel the heat. Smell the scorched mana. If you start to sweat, you are doing it right.

I followed the instructions as best I could, and I could feel it. That reservoir of magic in me grew warm.

Now that you have grasped the feeling, still the flames, but do not lose the heat. Breathe shallowly - starve the fire of air, all but the smallest amount. Let it smolder, but keep the heat, whatever you do.

It was a strange sensation, but I found myself able to follow it. Something was happening.

What we are doing here is separating your flame from your heat. We are breaking down the fire into its components. A fire can cook, but we are stripping that away. This will be a heat that does not cook, but which ruins and melts.

Now, once you have separated out the heat, increase it. It should be uncomfortable. Do not worry, you will release it soon. But it must grow inside of you, first. No matter how it feels, remember that you are not melting. You are not a body-mage. Your organs will not melt.

That was not encouraging. But only my nails worked with magic, so I figured I would be fine. I hoped I would be fine.

But it really did feel like my organs were melting. It wasn’t quite the same as a physical pain, which was the only reason I didn’t stop immediately. But it was painful. It was difficult to continue reading. Adrenaline pumped through my veins as my body screamed danger, but then my veins seemed to melt away. Then the pain melted away, too. Sweat poured from me, and got into my eyes. I blinked it away, wiped it away, and tried to finish the instructions.

When it becomes unbearable, you are almost there. Now, you must become the heat.

After this was a series of what sounded like affirmations. You are the fire… and so on. Then, at the end, a command to release yourself, to let your power spread out into your target.

I released the heat, sent it at the nails, and I could feel the uncomfortable burning in my stomach leave me.

But nothing happened.

I tried again, reading back through the instructions: finding the fire, separating out the heat, increasing it, bearing the unbearable phantom-pain, then release.

Nothing.

I tried again, and again, and again. I could feel the mana working inside of me, but when I tried to release it, it was like the flame of a candle being blown out.

I have no idea how long it took. By my fifth try, Cadoc had already managed to learn how to summon a small wall of wood in front of him. I didn’t congratulate him. I ignored him, and whatever Amaia was saying, and kept trying.

I went through the steps again, and I focused harder on the affirmations, this time. I tried to really believe them, to let them sink into my melting heart.

You are the fire which destroys, but does not comfort. The flame which consumes, but does not cook. The blaze which warps, but does not temper.

You destroy. You consume. You warp.

You are the hunger without a stomach. You are the war without a cause.

You are the fire without a spark.

I released. I watched the nails intently.

They melted.