I came upon my apprentice in the woods, jaw locked and eyes wild like a hard-ridden horse. In a sense he was a horse, the hunting ritual imparting a good deal of a nightmare’s impressive speed and stamina. But something is wrong; Ed is paralyzed, muscles twitching and breath coming in shallow gasps.

I feel like I may not be cut out for teaching the esoteric arts. Ed is my fifth apprentice and most are dead. Only my third apprentice, a flighty woodsfolk who never completed her training still lives, apparently communing with nature somewhere in the sacred forests to the West. Unless I figure out what is happening to Ed, I am going to add to my unimpressive record of former apprentices.

And something is very wrong with Ed. At first I thought he must have used all his magic and collapsed. It isn’t particularly uncommon for apprentices to push themselves with their first spells and run out of energy. With enough rest and food, this is rarely an issue. But Ed is positively overflowing with energy. I can feel it from a yard away and the power is putting my hair on end and my teeth on edge.

I have heard of apprentice alchemist's over imbibing distillations to increase mana capacity having similar problems. But I have never heard of something like this. The excess mana is poisoning his blood causing his body to fail. If I am going to help my apprentice, I will have to get him back to my ritual hut so I can begin to heal him. I use a minor talisman of strength, and pick up Ed.

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The jog home took half an hour and preparing the ritual room took another 15 minutes. In that time the magic in Ed’s blood became dangerously volatile. He is a hair’s breadth away from a mana failure that will rupture everything, turning my troublesome apprentice into a pool of gore.

I begin to syphon off the excess mana, and fortunately the amount of mana in Ed’s body is no longer increasing, but it isn’t decreasing either. This apparently is too much strain, because Ed passes out, but his body is still cooking itself with excess power. As much as I am displeased by this, I am going to have to force Ed to stabilize himself. If he can use his magic, he can begin to get this mana problem under control.

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I am relieved to see that Ed is in here. For a moment I was convinced that Ed passed on before I got a chance to help, but he is here so there is still hope that he can recover. A quick investigation earlier showed me that Ed has a patron, like all warlocks. Ed’s patron, however, does not appear to know restraint and unless Ed can put this power to use, it is going to kill him.

“I expected death to be a bit more peaceful, fewer lessons and no wicked witches” Ed says with a smile. I see that Ed is still as cheeky as ever.

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“You look good for one cooking himself alive” I deadpan a response.

“Well, it wasn’t my plan to do so, but magic has a mind all its own”

I scoff at this explanation. “You need to regulate your power tap. You are drawing magic from your patron at a prodigious rate, and will burn yourself out.”

“I don’t know any spells or rituals! How on earth am I supposed to fix this!”

“You do have a comprehension spell you can use the mana to power. Try doing that” I reply, a touch shortly. I watch as Ed begins to power the comprehension spell carved into his body. I watch as the relatively simple spellform add more and more complexity. The simple carvings expanding into a terrifying full body tattoo that moves and writhes across his skin leaving furrows in his flesh.

I have seen warlock’s ritual binding of spellforms and it is nothing this elegant. That is like hammering the body into the proper shape like metal on an anvil, this is like watching a painter expertly apply pigments to the skin. Ed opens his eyes and looks at me, the muddy blue of his eyes transforming into a radiant turquoise. It is unsettling.

“Ed, did that work?” I ask tentatively. His gaze is penetrating, like I am a particularly interesting bug to be studied, and perhaps squashed.

“Nuala,” he says, his voice oddly melodious, too smooth and with too much tenor to be natural “it is good that you came to speak to me. The magic was almost too much to handle, but now I know how to. Ramrar has given me a spell to cast”

At the mention of the dragon god’s name, I freeze. Ramrar does not choose a champion unless the world is going to get very interesting. That is a dark omen, and a good indication of why Edward got such a bounty of magic. Ramrar is not known for restraint and his blessings of might produce unparalleled warriors for an age. I have never heard of one he blessed with magic.

More spellforms appeared in this dark space. More sophisticated than I have ever seen. They were forms for might, understanding, insight and more. All linked to create a single spell that would enhance Ed. It was scary looking at the construction of it. It was like watching a toddler sculpt a masterpiece. I watched as the magic flowed out of Ed in a rush, eager to do his bidding and build this complex spell.

I tried to help as best I could, supporting the spell and hanging it upon Ed, but the spellform was too delicate. The construction too intricate and the purpose too grand to be easily affixed to the warlock.

There is real tragedy in watching something so beautiful fall apart. The spell was too demanding and lost cohesion as it began to dig itself into Ed’s skin. The scream confirmed that it was as painful as it appeared, and after all was said and done, a more simple version of the masterpiece was carved across his skin, integrating the pre-existing lines that once made up the comprehension spell. When the whole ordeal was done, I released the spell that allowed me to access Ed’s mind.