Wyn leaned back in his chair, extending his arms above his head. He could’ve burned the stiffness out of them with spirit fire, but it didn’t feel quite as good as a nice stretch.
He took a deep breath as he did, the woody scent of the small library filling his nose. It wasn’t nearly as large as the library in Straetum—in fact it was hardly larger than his own bedroom back home, and Eldress Ornum had been obsessed with collecting books in her own way—but it had its own charms.
Sitting on the table in front of him, Eia mirrored his actions—which was even more unnecessary as she had no muscles at all.
“Are you almost done?” she asked, a tinge of boredom in her voice. “You’ve been at this for hours.”
Wyn glanced at the candles that lit the dark room, dripping with wax. Outside the window, night had completely fallen, leaving only their flickering light to work by.
“Almost. I should probably eat soon. But I’m close now I think—just a few more tries. How about you? Shouldn’t you be practicing too?”
Eia smiled abashedly. “I’m taking a break. I’ve been putting in extra time while you sleep, so it’s fine.”
“Is that true?” Wyn asked, raising an eyebrow.
“Well… mostly. I promised to help, not to work myself to the bone.”
“I’m just messing with you.”
Eia puffed her cheeks. “Yeah yeah. So what’s the problem with this one?” She pointed to the parchment on the desk in front of him. Drawn onto it was a series of nested circles, intersecting and meeting at several points. There were only four, but each one introduced a new layer of complexity. Apparently, four circles were the minimum number of pure shapes that could form spells without any incantations or symbols. Since Nereus didn’t know why, Wyn had no chance of guessing, but that was how it was.
“I’m not sure, but I’ve got to be on the right track. This one got hotter without growing, I just need to reverse it somehow.” Wyn mused, glancing at the pile of failures to his left. Some had burnt along the edges of the circles, others had grown moist and smeared the ink, while some had simply failed outright. Nereus had made it seem so easy back on the strider a few days prior. But it turned out, magic wasn’t easy.
***
“So Wyn, what do you think is the difference between a technique and a spell?” Nereus asked, breaking the silence atop the veldstrider.
Wyn looked at the mage, pulling his vision from the fading sight of Estin in the distance. Nereus was fiddling with his glasses as he peered at the grass below the veldstrider, watching the mana he swore flowed within it.
“Well… is it the method?” Wyn guessed.
“That’s not a bad guess, and in a sense, you’re on the right track. But in my opinion, the answer is that there isn’t one. In theory at least.”
“So it was a trick question then? How was I supposed to guess that?”
“You weren’t,” the mage chuckled, his gaze still focused on the grass. “It was just to get you thinking in the right direction. No you see, techniques and spells serve essentially the same purpose—directing mana in a set pattern to create a distinct and repeatable effect.”
“So, then why have the distinction at all?”
Nereus’s head tilted up a bit, finally pulling away from the grass as he shrugged. “Mostly for clarity I suppose. If I had to define a distinction, it would be the source of power. Whereas a technique—like the one your friend has been tasked with developing—draws its power from, and originates in his own aura, a spell can draw its power from any number of things, and can activate without concurrent effort.”
Wyn thought about that. “So… a spell can be cast and stored for later, a technique can’t?”
“That’s a way of putting it, yes. But in theory, anything a technique can do could be replicated through the use of a spell.”
“So really, a technique is really just a spell cast a certain way?”
“Exactly, which is why I say there’s no true difference.”
Wyn leaned back over the lip of the saddle, looking into the grass. His time with the mage wasn’t unlimited, and not just because they’d be leaving in a week. The mage was watching the grass for particularly mana-dense areas, looking for the best specimen to experiment on. Even after a week, Wyn still couldn’t grasp the outline of his soul for more than a moment, so he had no idea what that looked like. When Nereus found what he was looking for, the conversation would be over—so Wyn needed to be efficient. What was the best question to ask?
“What’s the tradeoff?”
Nereus’s lips twitched. “Tradeoff?”
“If there’s no difference other than fuel, why would anyone use their own aura for a technique? It’s limited right, so spells can be more flexible, and more powerful? Then there must be an advantage to channeling and techniques.”
The mage smiled. “Right you are Wyn. It’s a fundamental rule, not just of mana-theory, but of life. Everything comes with a cost, and to gain one thing, you must lose another. In this case, what you lose is time.”
“Like… it takes more time to learn spells?”
“In part,” Nereus shrugged. “But no, I’m referring to the time to form the spell. With a technique, mana can be formed quickly, with only a thought from the channeler. Do you know how to juggle?”
“What does juggling have to do with anything?” Wyn raised an eyebrow.
“Yes, it’s… well, allow me to demonstrate.” Nereus retrieved a bag from the other side of the strider, rummaging around for a moment before pulling out a trio of small, round stones. He tossed them into the air and began to—well, juggle.
“See, think of channeling, and techniques a bit like juggling,” he said, looking at Wyn while keeping the stones in constant motion. “It’s not particularly difficult, but it is a distinctly physical activity. While it required thought while I was learning, eventually my body became used to the motion. It became ingrained, and now I can hold a conversation while juggling three, or even four stones.”
“You can do more?” Wyn watched the stones cascading up and down, trying to move his hands in the same pattern. Nereus tossed him the stones with a grin as he continued.
"A channeler can learn many techniques. While it takes time for each one, once your body grows used to the pattern, it can replicate it without issue. But weaving a spell is different, like solving a math problem. Each spell you cast must account for different conditions, and there is no ‘muscle memory’ for the mana outside your body. Each spell is a problem to solve. Instead of trying to brute force an effect, mages develop tools and methods for reaching the correct answer—incantations, hand signs, magic circles, et cetera.”
“So, if I want to cast a spell, I’ll have to chant the right words? Or make the right hand signs? But I’ve seen you use mana without any of those things!”
“What is five times three?”
“Fifteen,” Wyn responded automatically.
Nereus smiled. “Ah good, you have some level of education. Did you have to count it on your fingers?”
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“Of course not, it was… Oh I see, but how is that fundamentally different from muscle memory?”
“Perhaps it’s not,” the mage shrugged. “But what if I asked you to find the length of the long side of a right triangle with two side lengths of three and four?”
Wyn blinked, dropping the stones he’d been clumsily trying to juggle. “What?”
“Ah, that’s unfortunate, you don’t know Cassius’ Second Law of Triangles. It’s five by the way. Well it can’t be helped. You’ll have to get your math skills up to par if you hope to enroll in the academy either as a mage or channeler, don’t neglect it. For now though, it is best to say that spell casting is simply more rigid, but can provide formulaic solutions to more complex problems. Does that make sense?”
Wyn’s head spun. “I… I think?”
The mage sighed. “Let’s start here.” He retrieved a piece of paper from the same bag as the stones, along with a thin brush, ink, and a flat wooden board. Laying the paper flat on the board, he dipped the brush and began to draw circles, four of them, interlocking in a complex pattern. As he drew, he spoke.
“We’ll begin with magic circles, as they’re easiest to teach before you can see or feel mana, though if you intend to be a battlemage, you’ll move to other methods eventually. This ink is a conductor of mana, drawing and filtering it along the patterns of the spell. There are other shapes and scripts that can be used, but stick to circles for now.”
As he drew the last one, the blank ink pulsed once with a silvery light. A moment later, a lone flame, like a candle’s, began to burn in the air a few inches above the center of the smallest circle, nestled between two larger ones.
Wyn’s eyes were drawn to it, and he held his hand closer, feeling the heat the flame gave off. “Incredible. And I could learn to do that?”
Nereus laughed. “And much more. But this is a start.” He took the brush and drew a line across one of the circle’s edges. The flame went out immediately, and he handed the paper to Wyn. “Your first step will be to memorize this pattern, and draw it until you can make the flame appear without using the aid at least four times of five.”
Wyn took the paper gingerly, committing the series of circles to memory. “Is that all? But that seems so easy.”
The mage smiled knowingly. “Then it should be no problem. You’ll move onto step two quickly. But you’ll have to save your practice for later. We’ve arrived. Now help me set up my equipment!”
Wyn looked at the patch of grass Nereus was gesturing to. It appeared exactly the same as the rest of the grass on the sea. Without mana sight, he still couldn’t see the difference. Nonetheless, he nodded in thanks and began to follow the instructions. On the outside, he seemed as attentive as ever, but in his mind, he thought of circles.
***
He really made it seem so easy. Five times three… yeah right. Wyn clicked his tongue as he stared at yet another failure.
Copying the first set of circles had taken longer than he’d expected. There was a bit of leeway in how precise the drawing was, but if the lines were too thick in certain areas, or if a circle was an inch too far to the right, the whole spell collapsed, with unpredictable results—to him, at least.
Still, with practice, he’d managed it and was able to make the flame appear. The real problem was step two.
“Perfect! Now, without adding any extra circles, I’d like you to increase the size of the flame, changing nothing else. And no hints from me, you’ll have to figure it out for yourself!”
Wyn could appreciate the sentiment behind that, but it didn’t make the exercise any less rote, drawing the same diagram over and over and over. He’d managed to change the color of the flame to green, and form a droplet of water instead, along with dozens of other effects. He’d even managed to increase the size like he wanted, but it came with a sharp increase in temperature. He’d gone through over a hundred iterations without any luck.
“Alright,” he said out loud. “One more try before dinner.”
“Yay!” Eia celebrated. She ran up an invisible staircase and threw her arms around a small flame spirit that had gathered around one of the candles. The spirit compressed a bit as she did, acting like a physical object to her touch. She smiled and let out a sigh of contentment. “So warm…”
Wyn snorted at the sight. “Is it really? Usually flame spirits burn people, though maybe that’s because this guy’s so small.” He leaned in to get a better look. The flame spirit was basically just a second, smaller candle flame floating around the real one—well, when it wasn’t trapped in Eia’s arms. Then again, could she even burn? Probably not.
“Wait… Wyn, I’m a genius!” Eia suddenly declared, her head shooting up with wide eyes.
“Oh yeah? Because you discovered this new pet of yours?”
“No no no seriously! Draw the pattern again,” she insisted, clutching the flame spirit tighter.
The smile fell off his face, replaced with a burgeoning sense of curiosity. He drew the circles on the paper once more. The initial pattern was easy now, and he knocked it out in only a minute, drawing four almost perfect circles. Just as always, the ink flashed and the flame appeared.
Floating down to the paper, Eia held out the flame spirit and closed her eyes.
Wyn felt a now-familiar weight settle into his mind. His own eyes widened, “Wait you think—”
“Shh!” She shushed him, remaining silent for almost thirty seconds as she drifted around the paper, holding the flame spirit close. Finally, she settled in the air above a point where two of the circles intersected without crossing. Her eyes shot open and she looked up at him with a bright look.
“Thicken the line from here…” she drifted along the line until she reached another intersection point. “To here.”
Anticipation building in his chest, Wyn did just that, letting the brush run flatter to thicken the line.
For a moment, nothing happened. But then, the flame began to swell, growing in size until it was almost twice as large before stopping. He held his hand out, feeling the heat of the flame. His hopes sank, and he shook his head. “It’s hotter, that won’t work.”
“I’m not done,” she said. “Now make this line here thinner.”
“That’s not how—shit.” He drew across the circle, stopping the flame. Then began to draw again, starting from the beginning but with both suggestions taken into consideration.
As the flame appeared, it was larger from the start, and when he held his hand out…
“Yes!” He almost fell out of his chair as he pumped his fist. “Eia you’re a genius!”
She cheered, jumping around in the air, holding the flame spirit above her head. “Who’s the best Wyn? Tell me because I forgot!”
“You are!” He laughed, pushing the chair back and getting to his feet so he could pace around. “Great work!”
His excitement was two-fold. Not only had he accomplished the task Nereus had given him, but he’d discovered yet another use for his newest power. They’d only tried with water and light spirits thus far, but if he could really make it work with any type of spirit, the possibilities were endless.
Eia released the spirit as she ran over to celebrate with Wyn. Just like always, the spirit floated towards him as well, circling his head slowly, a lone spirit in his crown.
He clenched his fist again, staring at it. His path was finally beginning to take shape, the path towards power enough to save people, just as Sezim and his father had done for him. Could this be applied to other types of casting, like incantations?
“Let’s try it again!” He said, riding the high of a fresh discovery. “If I thicken this line… and make this one thinner…”
Eia appeared in his vision, arms crossed with a stern look on her face. “Nope! It’s time to eat! You have to take care of yourself, spirit’s orders!”
“But—” He cut himself off, shaking his head. Their agreement was fresh in his mind, as much as she’d promised to work with him, he would work with her. Besides, he couldn’t bond the flame spirit without her. He let out a sigh, but he was smiling, there was no helping it. “Yeah, you’re right. Let’s go see what Kei’s up to. The food at her inn is great. Hope she’s feeling better, being stuck inside sucks.”
Eia nodded approvingly, a satisfied smile on her face as he felt the weight from the flame spirit fall from his mind. Almost immediately, the spirit began to drift away, back to the candle before Wyn blew them out, at which point it slowly faded into the air, returning to its unmanifested form, probably to gather around a fire somewhere else entirely.
Wyn stepped out into the fresh night air and took a deep, cleansing breath. He started to walk towards the central island, chatting with Eia as he went.
“So could that guy talk? Was he telling you the problems with the lines?”
“No, it was more like… when I went over that line, he was just giving me the impression of heat, or fuel for the size. The rest was guesswork.”
“What does an ‘impression of heat’ feel like?”
She made a face, holding her arms out and dropping her voice so it was low and masculine. “Heat!”
Wyn burst out laughing. “What was that? Send me the real one.”
But instead, she just kept stomping around. “Heat! Heat! Heat!”
She kept it up for a good ten seconds before she doubled over in laughter as well.
“Here, let me try that. Heat!” Wyn made a face as well, lowering his voice even further.
They laughed and laughed. And through the bond, Wyn could tell how much happier Eia had been since they’d talked, like she’d put down a weight she’d been carrying.
The feeling was mutual. There was no other way to put it. Wyn had a new friend.