Bob did work on his magic. He worked on it with childish enthusiasm and a broad, face-eating grin. But magic did not work with Bob. It toyed with him and mocked him and laughed at his good-hearted striving. The cloak kept losing power half way through, or just straight up ignoring him.

The desired complex, billowing motion proved quite beyond Bob and he had to fall back to simpler, more pedestrian directives. But Bob was never discouraged. He'd already made more progress in the last thirty minutes than he had the whole first half of the day. More slow progress. But progress is progress.

Three hours later, Bob collapsed down onto the mud. He painstakingly pulled himself up into a cross-legged position. He felt drained. He was bone-tired though he'd barely moved for the past hour.

Magic didn't come for free. The power had come from somewhere, somewhere inside Bob and he'd drained himself dry with the sustained practice. He threw his arms back and looked up to the sky. Magic is a ruthless mistress, he mused to himself. He cursed generations of video-game developers whose only purpose seemed to have been to instil in him bad instincts and unreasonable expectations.

Magic (at least Bob's magic) was not a "press a button and something happens" affair. That kind of passive, self-indulgent thinking would get you nowhere. Magic would grin maliciously down at you as she sabotaged attempt after attempt. No, Magic was a lot more complicated and difficult. Magic demanded study and patience and dedication. You couldn't get away with two-timing the woman.

And so, in the spirit of MQA, Bob had been very systematic, very fine-instruments and magnifying glasses. Yes he might have spent five minutes messing around with showy, crowd-pleasing attempts that had all failed quietly, but that's just the price of being human. After that, Bob had rolled up his sleeves and gotten work. Experiment after experiment after experiment, all designed to tease out the boundaries on what he could and what he couldn't do.

Now Bob sat and reviewed his experiences. The time had come. The progression of ages had led to this moment, as Bob, sitting in a patch of mud, began to frame his grand laws of magic. He grabbed up the pad of paper lying nearby and started scribbling.

Framing his laws took a long time and involved much scratching and discontented mumbling, "not grand enough, not grand enough... We can't have "Grand Laws of Magic" without an essential mystic, incomprehensible ring to them can we?" Was Bob wasting time here? Perhaps, perhaps not. Which do you judge first, a man's mind or his clothes? He finished the final law with a flourish of his pencil and nodded solemnly to himself.

"Ahem," Bob cleared his throat. "Ahem," Bob cleared his throat a little louder. When a third volley failed to garner the desired reaction, Bob dropped all subtlety and glared at the dog. George was examining his paw, licking it in a lazy, contented way.

"George, are you listening?" The dog had not been listening.

"George, pay attention now please." The dog visibly yawned, but he did indulge Bob, looking over to see what stupid thing his master would do next. Bob, satisfied that the dog was given due attention, rose to his feet, folded his hands behind his back and began to lecture.

"At the earnest request of the magical academy and the assembled mages of the honorable society of magic, I will present the findings of my long and legendary study of magical principles. These principles, which I shall presently present, are the product of years of magical research and naturally I can't expound on them at their proper depth or complexity in the allotted time. Think of this as a taste of the secrets of advanced sorcery. Very well, I shall present to you the Three Grand Laws Of Magic, ahem, ahem...

Now before I present the Three Grand Laws, I think it will be proper and fitting to first present the Grand Axiom. The Three Grand Laws may all be derived from the Grand Axiom. It is fitting therefore that we begin with the Grand Axiom. Very well, I shall present to you the Grand Axiom, ahem, ahem...

The Grand Axiom: Magic is bounded by the magician.

Yes, yes, settle down now. Rarely do we mages discuss our arcane arts so openly. But at the earnest request of the magical academy and the assembled mages of the honorable society of magic, I have agreed to present my findings. Now, I expect that, to the learned company assembled here, the finest of those who pursue the mystic arts, the axiom is self-explanatory and needs no further comment. I will therefore proceed at once to The Grand Laws.

What? You had a question. Already? Very well then, please... Ah, The Grand Axiom is not self-evident to you. May I ask your name? Prudence Wobblewand. Hm... never heard of the Wobblewand family. Are you someone's apprentice or something? This lecture might be beyond your level. I recommend "Elementary Charms for Slow Learners." It's just down the hall. Now, as I was saying, I will therefore proceed at once to The Grand Laws.

Magic's First Law: The Conceivability Paradigm

Magic is limited by the imaginative capacity of the mage. A mage cannot achieve an effect he does not understand. The law applies both in aggregate and at every stage of a spell. Remember that spells are typically defined only by their final effect. And it is often conveniently forgotten that any spell is composed of numerous, small operations. However, each of the aforesaid operations must be within the conception of the magician for the magic to succeed.

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I will give you an example from my own field of study. No doubt my name precedes me, but for those who do not know, I am a mud magician, a master of the noble art of mud manipulation. Settle down. Settle down. Yes, it is one of the more rarefied and respected magical disciplines. Now suppose I were to desire to rotate a sphere of mud in my hand. I would have to understand the proper method of rotation and capture said method within my spell conception. And the end result upon the sphere would be neither more nor less than the direct consequence of my chosen method.

For example, imagine in my simplicity, I were to only apply a rotational force to one side of the sphere. Don't laugh. Of course I know no-one among this company could make such a beginner's mistake. Meditate upon it as a thought experiment. Almost inevitably there will be some accidental, translational force applied to the sphere and I shall observe it beginning to drift off towards the side. The point is that magic is blind to my intention. Or rephrasing the point, magic sees only the method.

Magic is bounded by the magician. It will never do more or less than you command. The magician must understand exactly how he shall achieve his desired effect and express that method through his spell. If for example, I desired to convert a ball of mud into a piece of garlic bread, would I be able to?

Now that idea itself is not inconceivable. I have as a point of fact conceived of it. But have I? Yes and no. I have conceived of its beginning and ending, its start state and end state. A ball of mud in my hand and then a moment later a piece of garlic bread. However, I have no understanding of the process by which I could convert one into the other. I cannot conceive of the steps needed to transform mud into garlic bread. And hence, unfortunately, the magic is beyond me.

Magic's Second Law: The Locality Principle

In a manner of thinking, the second law is the most elementary. It has its counterpart in classical mechanics. There can be no action at a distance. The magician can only influence those things he can directly interact with. "Directly interact with" is a loaded and deliberately ambiguous term. It includes the mundane sense of touch, but also any other inherent connection such at that between a magician and his companion object, and perhaps even created, temporary connections.

Is this not, you might ask, merely a restatement of the first law? The magician cannot conceive of a way to influence things at a distance and therefore cannot influence them. Bravo. I am glad you are all following so closely. Especially you, Miss. Wobblewand, who I notice has not taken my advice to look up Elementary Charms. Naturally I had not overlooked the point and I would do injustice not to acknowledge a certain overlap between the two laws. However, there is an important distinction. The magician does not need to understand the connection as long as said connection exists.

In other words, the magic itself can navigate to a correctly identified target. Who among you understands the way you are bonded with your companion object? And yet if you have the necessary authority, can you not influence said companion object at arbitrary distances? Yes, you might need to focus on the connection, but do you actually have any concrete understanding about how you are acting over a distance? No, you do not. This is in stark contrast to the way magic is completely blind to your ultimate end intention and can only slavishly follow the path laid out before it.

To restate the law in more practical terms, a magician must connect with an object via his magical senses before he can manipulate it. He must definitively and unambiguously identify the target of his spell, the object it acts upon. And if this connection is lost or broken before the spell is completed, the magic will cease mid-effect. However, he does not need to understand how this connection exists or functions.

Magic's Third Law: The Arcane Ledger

My esteemed company, it is a sad truth of the world that nothing is without cost. Even magic is no exception. The effects of magic are paid for by the magician who wields it. Following the practice of our ancestors, I will call this energy: mana. Its source, production and rules remain mysterious to the magical community. However, it is clearly a finite though replenishable resource. I can only cast so many spells before I am exhausted and must desist from spellcraft. And yet after a few hours, my mana stock is magically replenished and I can once more cast spells.

To summarize the three laws in layman's speech: first you must be able to conceive of how and what you want the object to do; second you must be able to connect to the object; and third you must have sufficient mana to power that action.

And now as a special treat and to round off the lecture, I will give you a demonstration of high-level magic. Be warned against attempting this at home. Here is a mud ball I prepared in advance. I set it on my open palm so. Now everybody watch closely. You there at the back. Please attend to the lecture. George, dammit, wake up. Good. Now watch closely."

Here Bob Magus was given a seminal lecture, a historic dissertation on the grand laws of magic and the stupid dog had fallen asleep. But Bob didn't have time to worry about that now. He was less than confident in the demonstration he had planned and to flounder in front of all of these great witches and wizards; he snuck a glance at the empty meadow. The pressure was palpable.

Bob concentrated on the mud. He closed his eyes and let his awareness drift inside the mud. He walked through what he wanted the mud to do. It was a simple, basic maneuver. A balanced force would slowly propel the ball up a few inches and then gravity would bring it back down to his hand. He'd successfully executed it a number of times in practice.

Now! He willed the invisible force into the mud; he felt it begin to move—we have lift off and splat! Bob opened his eyes. Mud was dripping down his face. "Ah now that can sometimes happen."

He'd been a tad nervous after all. He managed a sheepish grin and looked out over his imagined audience. Boo, someone called out in a low voice. Miss. Wobblewand no doubt, Bob ground his teeth. Boo, Boo. The call was taken up and passed around. So much for the respect and adoration of his magical peers...