The source of blood is the heart.

Bones, flesh, skin... It is all connected by life in its pure form, in its liquid manifestation. Blood is the essence of our souls, the very thing that unites us all. Only skilled mages who have dedicated their lives to the study of the human body are able to master blood, to use it for their own purposes. This is what makes us superior to the caste of technology masters - cold machines will never be able to control blood, for they are mere constructs of metal with no soul.

Blood mages use their own life to attack: every drop that is used in battle must pass through their heart. Otherwise, it cannot be filled with the mana needed to use spells. Without the warmth of the heart, the blood will simply curdle, freeze, become... dead.

Because of the nature of their art, blood mages are extremely vulnerable to poisons. Whether it be foreign blood, acid, or even ordinary dust, if objects foreign to the body enter the vessels, spreading through the interwoven web of life in the mage's body, he or she will face imminent death. For many generations, both supreme mages and primitive cultists have sought solutions to this problem, but everything came back to the very beginning, to the source of energy for this art - without the passage of blood through the heart, it cannot be saturated with mana. Without mana, the blood can only serve as a source of life for the host.

That is, of course, if mana creation only takes place in the heart.

Unstable magical crystals can maintain the shape of liquids, but they cannot be manipulated. They do not enter into the powers of people in any way, being foreign objects. Blood constructs created with mana crystals become contaminated over time, the amount of blood in them is being depleted. But they always retain the form they took upon contact.

Many have tried to harness the power of the crystals, but none have been able to make them control the forces of life.

This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

Heat binds all living things together.

Fire is much more closely related to life than many realize. Its primal heat has warmed our ancestors for thousands of years. Even now, the element of fire warms our homes and fields, obeying every human command.

Blood and fire have much more in common than some may think. Without heat, blood can do nothing, for it is worth the cold icy liquid reaching the heart as the mage falls to the ground. Either dead or unconscious. Therefore, some have decided to combine these spells, creating a forbidden branch of study.....

Blood Flame Magic.

Originally just a way to fight in cold conditions it quickly turned into the best method for brutal killings and monstrous destruction. Nothing can withstand the heat of a fire fueled by the blood of dozens of innocent souls. If even one house in a village catches fire, the entire colony is doomed to perish. The scarlet flames will not be extinguished until the last soul of the settlement joins the vanishing smoke in the celestial sky.

What's deadly to the victim is often deadly to the mage. If a spark of fire enters his body, he will burst into flames from within, leaving only charred bones cracked from the great heat.

Therefore, this magic was banned due to its instability and extreme danger. But there are still cultists in the world who disregard this ban. Sooner or later, they will meet the fate of every magician who dares to set fire to life itself.

Blood and Souls.

Only a few blood mages can raise the dead from their graves, but they return back without any will, without their memories, without a soul. They are but a void of what was once human.

Followers of the forbidden magic of the End say that they know the secret to the true resurrection of humans, which preserves their soul in the body. However, no one has seen confirmation of their words because the madmen rather turned into devilish brats than put their spells to good use.

The magic of the End, or the Edge of Life, is renowned for its ability to transform the bodies of heretics into elongated human shells, with black, withered skin. A handful of followers remain in our world while the rest disappear into the unknown. Sometimes, if you wait long enough, you can hear their sobbing howls at night, echoing through the fields and forests. Who knows if their minds are still behind those large, glowing eyes…