Meyriv dreamt that he was a ball of light, floating through the fog down the side of a mountain. Trees and rocks raced by as he passed them. After a few minutes, the edge of the swamp loomed in the fog, with trees, mud, and vines stretching as far as he could see on either side. Despite this, he continued to float onwards and inwards, drifting deeper into the swamp. Sweet, playful humming and melodious creaking echoed all around him, enveloping him in a serene atmosphere.
Finally, he stopped, hovering above a lake, hidden within a cavern of crooked, arching branches. Hundreds of others like him were streaming out of the trees, and as he watched, they began to sink into the water. After a moment of hesitation, he drifted down to join them.
As he descended several meters down, the bottom of the lake became visible through the murk. The lakebed was filled with chaotic mounds of bones - large and small. Some were obviously human or animal, but several seemed too large or bizarre to be from any creature he knew.
- - -
Meyriv awoke, feeling helplessly feeble and barely able to open his eyes. Once his vision stopped swimming, he saw a grey stone ceiling above him.
After what felt like an hour, a nearby door opened, but he couldn't turn his head to look. It closed shortly thereafter.
A few more minutes passed before the door opened again. This time, he was able to weakly turn his head toward the sound.
An old man of middling height entered the room, his footsteps silent. He had a short salt-and-pepper beard.
“So, you’re the lad. I hear you tried your best to die on my doorstep last night,” the man said, looking down at Meyriv.
Meyriv tried to reply, but all he managed was a quiet mumble and some drool.
“Don’t strain yourself. I can surely talk enough for both of us.” the man said with a smile.
“As you may have guessed, I am Irotem. What you encountered is referred to in folklore as a 'Will-o-the-wisp', known for luring travelers to their deaths in swamps. While similar to the myths, they are not themselves sentient creatures. Their exact nature is more akin to bait on a fishing hook and involves concentrated... ahh, now I’m rambling.”
He cleared his throat. “Back to matters at hand; You would have perished if not for Eirian’s timely intervention. If I were you, I would make sure to express my sincere gratitude to her when you next meet. My wife does not take well to ingrates.”
In his current state, Meyriv was struggling to follow Irotem’s words; he spoke so quickly! He was uncertain if the man ever paused for breath.
“Now, about that apprenticeship you seek...”
He paused, looking amused at the astonishment on Meyriv’s face.
Meyriv coughed and managed a weak “How did you- - -”
"Dear child, several factors lead me to that conclusion. For one thing, if I hadn’t already been certain, your reaction just now would have left no doubt. For another, you are an untrained child with weak magical talent, arriving at my door, not a week after this year's imperial mage evaluations in the nearest sizable city. And finally, this is hardly the first time I’ve been solicited for an apprenticeship. As you can speak now, what is your name?”
Meyriv told him.
“Meyriv. Thank you." The old man nodded politely. "Now, to cut to the chase. I am aware that you failed your evaluation. No, no one told me. I can tell that you have only the barest connection to magic without needing a demonstration. I’m sure you’ve been told that you would be better off finding a more promising pursuit. And, seeing as you are here, I'm confident you have thus far ignored such counsel.” “You traveled here, desperately hoping for an apprenticeship, failed evaluation or not. While I commend your determination, a full apprenticeship would involve tasks beyond your abilities.”
Meyriv’s expression became one of hopelessness. He opened his mouth to speak- - -
Irotem held up his hand. “Don’t despair just yet—I have a proposal that might yet appeal to you. I said a full apprenticeship is beyond your abilities. However, I can allow you to study with me and practice those things which fall within your abilities. Contrary to tradition, you don’t actually need magical ability to study magic, at least on the theoretical level. In return for this opportunity, you will be expected to work for your upkeep, as I won't be able to assign you the same responsibilities I could give to a conventional apprentice.”
“Are these conditions acceptable?” Irotem's eyes twinkled. “...I’ll interpret your relieved expression as ‘Yes’. Take your time recovering, you may wish to be bedridden again once you get your task list.”
Irotem carefully shut the door behind him.
Exhausted by the conversation, Meyriv quickly fell into a contented sleep.
He woke to find a bowl of warm broth and two slices of bread waiting in an alcove in the wall by his bed. After finishing the meal, he stood up. Immediately, he began to feel dizzy, so he sat down again.
What did the wisp do to me?
Since he couldn’t get up, he occupied himself by practicing his magic.
He made his practice stone glow as brightly as he could.
I wonder if I could imitate...
He imagined the unnatural light of the wisp.
Gradually, the light from the stone shifted colors closer to what he was imagining.
Quickly, the effort exhausted him and he had to rest.
- - -
“Excuse me.”
Meyriv woke suddenly and found an unfamiliar man standing in the doorway. His face seemed...unusual to Meyriv, but he couldn’t tell why. He was of average height, with short dark hair. His voice was level and emotionless as he spoke, “I am Cellarius. I serve the Lord and Lady of the house.” He then stood unmoving.
Meyriv's brow creased in confusion as he tried to figure out what Cellarius wanted. As the silence dragged on he responded, “Yes?”
It was unclear whether it was his question or some other unknown signal that prompted it, but immediately Cellarius stepped forward and handed Meyriv a heavy tome. “You are expected to familiarize yourself with these concepts. That is all.”
He exited briskly and gently shut the door.
The book’s title read: “A scholarly analysis of energy structure and aspect, natural and constructed.” Meyriv perused the first few pages of the book. He quickly realized his reading skill and vocabulary were insufficient for this book. Many of the words were entirely unknown to him.
He placed the book on the table and carefully stood up. His legs shook slightly, but he didn’t feel like he was going to collapse.
He emerged from the room and surveyed his surroundings, finding himself in a hallway with two other open doors. Peering into the rooms, he saw that one was nearly identical to the one he had slept in, while the other appeared to be some sort of storage area, with a short stairway leading down into a room filled with wooden crates and barrels stacked almost to the ceiling.
As he walked down the hallway, he noticed that there were no apparent light sources in the place. Instead, the light was entirely even and seemed to radiate from the walls and ceiling themselves.
Soon, he reached a staircase and climbed it, arriving in a brightly lit entrance hall where Cellarius stood motionless by another staircase, like a statue. Meyriv approached him and asked, “Where is Irotem? May I speak to him?”
Meyriv asked, “Where is Irotem? May I speak to him?”
“I shall inquire,” Cellarius replied bluntly, as he had before. He swiftly ascended the staircase, leaving Meyriv to wait and grow more confused by the man's unusual speech and demeanor. After a short time, Cellarius returned and said, “Follow.” He led Meyriv to a door in a hall at the top of the stairs and motioned him inside.
The room was lined with bookshelves that had been carved directly from the stone. Irotem sat at a wide wooden desk with a variety of tools, books, and odd instruments, with Eirian, the woman who had saved Meyriv, seated beside him.
“Ahh, Meyriv. What can I do for you?” Irotem asked.
Is he always this nice? What does he gain? Meyriv wondered to himself.
“I’m having trouble reading the book you assigned me... there are many words that I don't know,” Meyriv admitted, feeling his cheeks flush with embarrassment.
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“Oh! My mistake," Irotem replied. "I became spoiled by my last apprentice, who was already significantly educated before arriving here. It's not shameful to admit you don't know something," he added kindly.
He pointed out two books on a nearby shelf, and Meyriv took them down.
He then showed Meyriv how to use the dictionary and thesaurus to look up definitions.
“Those should help fill the gaps in your knowledge. Good luck!”
"Thank you," Meyriv said, bowing awkwardly. He turned to go back to his room but then paused.
He turned back to Eirian. “Ma’am?” She looked at him, her cold silver eyes seeming to pierce every facade. He froze, feeling like a sheep standing before a wolf.
“Yes, child?” She replied.
He shook off the feeling but couldn’t help shivering. “Th-thank you for saving me.”
“It was... necessary. Think nothing of it. I assume the wisp’s hook hasn’t caused any further difficulty?”
“What?”
“Evidently not. You may go.”
He bowed again and left, feeling uneasy.
She’s terrifying. And Irotem seems too nice. It's not normal. He thought warily.
... And what did Eirian mean, ‘wisp’s hook’? Did it leave something behind?
- - -
Meyriv immersed himself in his studies, pausing every few minutes to look up unfamiliar words. He was making rapid progress.
It amazed him how much there was to learn. Magic, at its most basic, was simply raw energy. The different forms and uses became virtually limitless when structured within an aspect and imprinted with deliberate intent.
A section caught his eye:
“All living organisms contain at least trace amounts of intrinsic magic. Occasionally, the ‘fabric’ of a soul is formed such that with specific effort a ‘conduit’ can be opened to a dimensional wellspring of energy. By doing so, a sentient creature can “pull” energy through the ethereal boundaries as magic.”“The quantity of energy that can be pulled and the difficulty of doing so can vary dramatically depending on the efficiency of the soul’s connection and relative ‘proximity’ to a wellspring. (Proximity in an abstract sense, not literal.)”
Now he had some idea of why he was weak: bad luck.
Meyriv continued reading:
“Once energy is obtained, the effectiveness for practical use is then determined by the skill and ingenuity of the user. Even an individual with a weak natural connection to a wellspring can learn to use magic if and when it can be obtained.”
“Outside of living things, in very rare cases a physical location can have a naturally occurring conduit to one of these wellsprings. This energy is volatile and chaotic when the conduit first forms, but over time it will begin to follow patterns similar to how water will carve a path through the area of least resistance. The form these patterns take can be greatly influenced by the specifics of the wellspring’s nature, as well as the physical location.”
“If such a location is discovered soon after formation, a sentient creature in proximity can shape the patterns toward their desired aspect. Even in ignorance, the aspect can be unknowingly shaped. While this can theoretically be benign, there is significant potential for unintended effects; in recorded historical incidents these have almost always been disastrous.”
Meyriv was fascinated. I wonder what happened to cause those disasters...
- - -
Over the next two days, Meyriv regained his health and was able to walk without needing frequent breaks.
Irotem walked into the room and addressed Meyriv. "Meyriv! The time has come for me to assign you more tasks."
Meyriv replied, "Of course."
Irotem handed Meyriv two small stacks of papers and explained, "These are lists of ingredients, both culinary and academic. I need you to count our current inventory of them and make a list of any that are running low. After that, you can give the list to me and I will communicate the order to merchants in Bridgeport. They will then dispatch a wagon with the items we need."
Meyriv nodded his understanding, so Irotem continued, “Additionally, your method of practicing magic is quite unfocused. Try to structure it to glow with very little heat, or to emit heat with very little light instead of pouring energy into the rock and allowing it to dissipate in whatever form it happens to take. If you can master this skill, you can advance to more complex structures. Even at your level of strength, discipline can help you gain the capacity to control the structure of what little magic you are able to use.”
“Yes, sir,” Meyriv said, pleased to receive feedback about his magic.
“Lastly, I want you to take a walk every morning,” Irotem said
“Er, what?” Meyriv asked.
“A walk through the mountain scenery,” Irotem repeated.
“But...why?” Meyriv questioned.
“It’s not healthy for young people to spend all their time indoors. Also, you will likely find opportunities to study the local flora and fauna. Some of it is quite interesting,” Irotem explained.
“As you wish...sir,” Meyriv replied.
“That is all. Let me know if you have any questions!” he concluded.
- - -
Meyriv opened another of the storage barrels that crowded the basement. The rooms were stocked with a variety of barrels, crates, sacks, and boxes, many of which were enchanted to stay cool year-round. In fact, one room was so cold that it could keep things frozen! As he continued to explore, Meyriv couldn't help but wonder how Irotem managed to maintain these enchantments indefinitely. Surely he would tire eventually?
Not only did Irotem seem to have enough food to last a year, but he also had an abundance of other supplies, including three crates of blank paper and an entire barrel of ink. Meyriv finished taking inventory with his mind still buzzing with questions.
Suddenly, Cellarius appeared in a hurry, carrying a large empty box. Without acknowledging Meyriv, he quickly filled it with vegetables from nearby shelves and left just as abruptly as he had arrived. Now that I think about it, Cellarius is the only servant here. I suppose that means he does the cooking too. Meyriv mused
- - -
At sunrise the next morning, Meyriv began his mandatory walk. Despite it being summer, at this altitude frost still coated exposed surfaces every morning.
How far does he expect me to go? Meyriv wondered.
He set a leisurely pace along a rocky trail. While the path down to the deserted village was clear, every other trail seemed to wind aimlessly through the mountains. Bridgeport is the farthest north of the major settlements on this continent, and that village down there was the northmost settlement on my map. So, where do these trails lead? They seem too defined to have been made by hunters, but too rocky to be intended for wagons.
After the trail wound along a few switchbacks passing by small cliffs, he arrived at a ledge. A sheer cliff ran along the north side as if some colossal giant had taken an ax to the remainder of the mountain.
Meyriv looked over the edge.
He could see approximately 400 meters down, after which his vision was obscured by a massive, unbroken sea of fog.
Looking over the fog, he could barely make out mountains on the other side.
The fog looked so comfortable, like a fluffy wool blanket.
Within, faint cyan lights occasionally flickered.
It would feel so good to dive in and rest...
A rock clattered as it fell over the cliff, startling him.
He looked at his feet and realized he had taken a subconscious step forward. His foot must have pushed the rock over.
One more step and he would’ve shared its fate.*
Shaken, he hastily backed away from the edge, heart pounding.
“I’m an idiot. The Swamp is north of here. I should have remembered that. That fog is not natural... And I’ve met one of those wisps before.”
He wondered if the lake of bones from his dream was real. An involuntary shiver ran down his spine.
If every walk is this relaxing, I’ll be dead by the end of the week.
He turned around and headed back to Irotem's home, resisting the temptation to run.
- - -
That evening, Meyriv attempted to follow Irotem's instructions and adjust his practice.
He made this sound so simple...
The stone stubbornly continued to warm up as it always did.
Meyriv took a break, pondering Irotem's advice. "What did he mean by 'constrain'? How can I constrain something I can't see or touch?"
He resumed practicing, channeling his energy into the rock. This time, he closed his eyes and tried to visualize the energy flowing through him and into the rock. He sensed a faint connection between himself and the stone, but it caught him off guard and he lost his concentration.
Maybe that was something?
He went to bed, replaying the problem in his head.
- - -
On his morning walk, Meyriv avoided the path overlooking the swamp. Instead, he took a narrow path through a canyon, ascending into the mountains. After fifteen minutes of steady climbing, the path ended with a five-meter cliff face directly in front of him.
Who would make a path leading nowhere?
He studied the cliff and decided that it looked reasonably scalable.
While he was coaxing his aching muscles to pull him up the last meter, it dawned on him.
...Nobody ‘made’ this... It’s just a canyon carved by water and the ‘path’ is a dry stream bed.
He made it to the top and lay on his back, panting.
After recovering his stamina, he continued his ascent through the canyon for a short while. Soon he rounded a bend and the canyon came to an end, revealing a secluded meadow.
The meadow was surrounded on all sides by steep cliffs, sheltering the area. Around the edges, several towering trees stood vigil, as if guarding this peaceful place. The bulk of the level ground was covered in dark green grass, highlighted by a variety of delicate mountain flowers. Occasional boulders provided contrast against the greenery.
He lay down in the shade underneath one of the trees, taking in the sweet smell of flowers and the cool breeze.
I am never showing this place to anyone. He promised himself.
- - -
Over the next few days and weeks, Meyriv made it a routine to visit the meadow for his morning walks and evening practice and study sessions, until it grew too dark to read.
To make climbing less tiring, he tied a sturdy rope to a rock at the top of the cliff.
With consistent practice, Meyriv's efforts began to pay off. As he pushed energy into the rock, he gradually became aware of several different 'categories' of energy radiating from it. Exploring them in his mind, he attempted to block the flow of the largest one. As hoped, the rock heated less but continued to glow.
Meyriv also experimented with blocking the light instead of the heat. While it did work, generating heat required significantly more energy than light.
- - -
The next day, Meyriv demonstrated his progress to Irotem, who complimented him on his improvement. "Well done," he said. "Your lack of strength does not necessarily make you a slow learner." With a smile, he then asked Meyriv, "Why do you need to fill the entire opaque rock with energy?" Meyriv was momentarily stunned before he replied, "Oh."
In hindsight, Meyriv was annoyed that he hadn’t realized something so obvious. He adjusted his method to create light by sending energy exclusively to the surface of the rock, instead of its entire volume. Previously, he had been filling the entire rock with energy, causing much of the light to become trapped and wasted. He was impressed with how much more efficient it was to illuminate the stone when he wasn’t wasting so much energy.
Meyriv discovered that if he used all the magic he could draw, he could keep the stone glowing for about five minutes before becoming too exhausted to hold open the conduit. However, after some experimentation, he learned to control the rate of energy flow so that it only took as much as he could sustainably pull from the wellspring at any one time. This made the stone glow only faintly, but he could keep it up for as long as he could stay focused. It was also just enough light to read by, if he held his rock close to the page.
- - -
Irotem allotted Meyriv one day a week for leisure, but he was unsure of what to do with this newfound freedom. Having never experienced such a luxury growing up, he decided to take a book up to his meadow for some studying. The weather was pleasant, and as soon as he set the book down to rest his eyes, he quickly fell asleep.
Meyriv strolled around the meadow, taking in the soft glow emanating from the trees and grass. Lights seemed to dance around the corners of his vision, disappearing whenever he tried to look directly at them. As he turned around, he noticed two glowing green spots in the air, hovering at his height. He watched in awe as they slowly transformed into ethereal green eyes, fixed on him.
He eventually woke from his dream, scanning the meadow for any signs of unusual activity. Everything appeared normal, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that he was being watched.