### **Chapter 5: The Sorcerer's Path**

The morning sun filtered through the dense canopy of the forest as Elias crouched low, his eyes fixed on the target ahead. A few paces away, grazing quietly in the undergrowth, was a magnificent creature—a **Lunaris Stag**, its silver antlers gleaming faintly in the dappled sunlight. The stag’s coat shimmered like moonlight, a rare and elusive prize for any hunter. Its faint glow made it a mystical sight, and one that required both skill and patience to take down.

Elias's heart raced as he drew back his bow, his fingers steady despite the adrenaline coursing through him. He had tracked the stag for nearly an hour, careful to remain downwind and silent. Now, as the moment came, he let his breathing slow, his focus sharpening.

The tension in the air thickened as he held his breath. Then, with a smooth release, the arrow flew. It struck the Lunaris Stag just behind its shoulder, sinking deep into its flesh. The stag let out a high-pitched whine, its legs buckling momentarily before it bolted into the trees, its speed betraying the pain it was in.

Elias cursed under his breath and was about to give chase when the ground beneath the stag surged up. Stone and dirt coiled around its legs, halting its escape in an instant. Elias turned to see his father, Griffin, standing a short distance away, his hand outstretched. The faint hum of magic was in the air, and the ground beneath them trembled slightly.

Griffin's **Earth** magic had stopped the stag cold.

"Not bad, Elias," Griffin said as he walked over, his deep voice calm. "But you’ll need to aim just a bit higher next time if you want a clean kill. The heart's the target."

Elias nodded, feeling a pang of frustration. "I'll get it next time."

Griffin smiled, clapping his son on the shoulder. "You’re improving. Your aim is sharp, and you’re learning to stay calm under pressure. That’s what matters."

They approached the fallen stag together, and with a swift motion, Griffin ended the creature’s suffering. Elias knelt down to retrieve his arrow, glancing up at his father.

"Your magic was faster than I expected," Elias commented, admiring how effortlessly Griffin had summoned the earth.

Griffin nodded. "Years of practice. When you’ve been hunting as long as I have, you learn to work with the forest, not just in it."

---

### **The Power of a Sorcerer**

As they made camp later that afternoon, the smell of roasting meat filled the air. The Lunaris Stag had been expertly skinned and cleaned, its meat now crackling over the fire. Elias sat beside his father, the two of them sharing a comfortable silence as the flames flickered.

If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

After a while, Elias broke the quiet. "Dad, I’ve been thinking a lot about the way magic works. I know you’re a Magic Lieutenant, but I don’t really understand the full scope of it all."

Griffin looked up, his eyes reflecting the firelight. "You’ve been asking more questions about magic lately," he observed, his tone thoughtful. "I guess it’s time I explained it in more detail."

He reached into his pack, pulling out a small branch, and began drawing in the dirt at their feet. "The path of a sorcerer is long and difficult. Most who awaken magic only manage to scratch the surface of their potential. That’s where the levels come in."

Elias watched intently as his father drew ten concentric circles in the dirt, each one larger than the last.

"Every awakened person, like myself, is called a **Sorcerer**. The levels of a sorcerer are broken into ten realms, and each realm is further divided into four sub-levels—**early**, **intermediate**, **late**, and **peak**. The lowest is **Magic Acolyte**, and the highest, at least in theory, is **Magic Elder**."

Elias’s eyes widened as he studied the diagram. "Magic Elder? I’ve never heard of anyone at that level."

Griffin nodded, his expression serious. "That’s because no one has seen a Magic Elder in over three thousand years, since the **Ancient Period**. It’s a level that’s more myth than reality now, but it still exists as part of the sorcerer’s path. Some believe the Elders were gods, and others think there’s an even higher level above them, but if that’s true, all those who reached it are long gone."

Griffin paused, letting the weight of his words sink in.

"What about the other levels?" Elias asked.

"After Magic Acolyte comes **Magic Soldier**, then **Magic Lieutenant**, which is where I’m at," Griffin continued. "The higher you go, the greater the difference in power. After Lieutenant, there’s **Magic Major**, then **Magic Colonel**, **Magic General**, **Magic Marshal**, **Magic King**, and finally **Magic Emperor**."

Elias was silent for a moment, trying to comprehend the immense scale of power being described. "And the difference between them? How big is it?"

Griffin chuckled, leaning back. "The gap between each realm is large, but after every third realm, the difference is enormous. For example, a Magic General is leagues beyond a Magic Major. The power increase isn’t just linear—it’s exponential."

"So, by the time you reach the upper realms..." Elias trailed off, awed by the thought.

Griffin nodded. "A Magic King is like a walking force of nature. A Magic Emperor could level a city. And as for a Magic Elder... Well, some say they could reshape the world itself."

Elias’s head spun with the implications. He had always known there were powerful sorcerers, but hearing it laid out like this made the reality of it all the more striking.

"And the power? How is it measured?" Elias asked.

Griffin leaned forward, drawing three lines in the dirt beneath the circles. "There are three basic types of magical energy that sorcerers draw upon, depending on their magic type. For **Elemental** magic users, like me, we draw on **Mana**. **Nature** magic users—like your mother—use **Prana**. And the third group, the **Deviants**, rely on **Psions**."

Elias traced the lines with his eyes, committing the terms to memory. "Mana, Prana, and Psions," he repeated. "And what determines the level of a sorcerer?"

"Two things," Griffin explained. "First is the capacity for magical energy—how much you can hold. Second is how efficiently you can mobilize that energy. Speed and precision matter just as much as raw power. The higher you go in the realms, the more efficient your magic becomes, and the faster you can channel it."

Elias leaned back, staring up at the sky, his mind racing with new thoughts. The world of magic had always been a mystery to him, but now he could begin to grasp just how vast and complex it was. His father, at the level of Magic Lieutenant, was already considered a formidable sorcerer in the village. But there were still many levels beyond that.

"Do you think I’ll ever awaken?" Elias asked quietly, the question slipping out before he could stop himself.

Griffin didn’t answer immediately. He poked at the fire, watching as the embers swirled into the air. "I don’t know," he admitted, his voice soft. "But I do know this: magic isn’t everything. You’ve trained harder than most sorcerers your age. You have skill, and that’s something no one can take away from you."

Elias smiled, appreciating the sentiment, but a part of him still longed for the power of magic. The world was vast, and he wanted to be part of it in a way that only sorcerers could be.

Griffin stood, stretching his legs. "Come on. The meat’s done, and we’ll need our strength for the rest of the day."

As they shared their meal, Elias couldn’t help but wonder what the future held for him. Somewhere out there, powerful sorcerers roamed the world, shaping its destiny. And though he wasn’t yet one of them, a part of him hoped that his journey toward magic had already begun.

---