Creating a spell

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"How much do I pay for it?"

"None needed." This time it was the girl, Dagger, "You helped. I snatched them with my eyes closed. Much thanks."

"See, she likes you already. And I wouldn't mind watching more of that 'practice' if you really want to pay us back."

The work didn't stop. A cooking fire had materialized in the pit, a few rocks arranged in a neat circle, dry branches and leaves piled over the wet wood they had been carrying. Smoke rose.

The fat boy had set his shield over the flame, as if testing the fit. Seeing Tommy baffled, his eyes lit up.

With an exaggerated flourish, the boy turned the shield around, and rotated it in his group until the handle and the plate under came off. It into a large hollow bowl. That was set upon the budding fire.

"Tada. We got our own magic."

It was a wok. A goddamned wok for a shield.

The leader carefully bled and dressed the rabbits, and Fatty chopped a bunch of leaves he collected around the clearing. Another few condiments came out of his backpack.

Tommy could barely cook but he could appreciate the practiced ease in their movements. These guys were quite serious about this outing of theirs. Having nothing to do, he sat down and heaped his mana again. And again, their attention was back on him, glancing sideways at the blob of mana as they worked.

"What's so fascinating about this?" Tommy asked.

"Ah, my noble friend. You underestimate how often dolts like us meet real mages."

"But you live next door to the Academy. They must be everywhere."

"Oh they are. In those fancy towers. And town halls. The guild has quite a few. Each of them is an expert and an uptight snob.. ah, student, no offense, and we are the lowest of the lows. If a place has magic, it is too expensive or prohibited for us. Why do you think we hunt for our breakfast?"

"Honestly, I was wondering why you are out so early. I thought you came out to have fun."

"Heh, we sure are, sir. Some fun and Joyo's tasty slop."

"Drop the sir, I am not a noble. Just call me, Tommy."

That caused them to relax a bit.

"I'm Lester. Glad to meet you mate."

"I'm Joyo."

"Dagger."

"Last time we bagged a rabbit, we exchanged the pelt for this baby." Dagger patted the bubbling wok, and pulled back as it scalded his fingertips, "Two-faced bitch!"

"Dumbass." Joyo quipped.

He continued chopping vegetables and humming. The fire had taken well, glowing through the cracks in the stacked stones, hidden under the blackened iron of the wok. While the fat rendered on the smooth steel, he chucked in a bunch of chopped leaves that sizzled and burst into an aromatic cloud. Shallots and yams went in next. And some seasoning.

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The mana ball was now the size of a watermelon, contrasting the moon overhead.

"What does that do?" The leader continued.

"Not sure. I should throw it, eventually."

"Like a fireball? Awesome!"

"Yeah."

"Throw it then."

"Not this one. This is just for fun."

"Oh, come on. Do it."

"Do it!"

"Umm..." Tommy hesitated. 'Yeah, why not this one?'

It couldn't do much harm really. He hadn't been able to throw one, once, after class. But he hadn't really made a mana ball. The night workout had opened new ways he wanted to try. Focusing, he kneaded the mana, like he would a dough.

Seeing Fatty massage the meat with herbs had given him that idea. And it seemed to be working. The mana folded upon itself, percolating back into itself, getting tighter, and brighter. Satisfied, he pressed it slowly, like scrunching a wad of paper into a ball. He let it bounce back a bit, trying to get it to unstick as he rolled it. The mana pulsated as it grew smaller and brighter steadily.

Until it stopped. Tommy felt the mana detaching from himself. He felt the ball evaporate rapidly. Were he to keep holding, it would vanish. So, he threw it. Tried to. He chucked it, but it stuck to him.

'Not a ball then. Something stickier. Flicking a booger?'

He did just that, snapping his wrist. Instead of flying in a projectile, it floated away slowly, until it hit a tree branch 30 paces away. And sheared through it. The branch splintered, falling down on the ground. The ball continued through the tangle, felling a dozen more branches, then burst into a bright glow and winked out.

"Whoa!"

"Holy jester!"

"Isn't that something."

Tommy basked in the adulation. Yes, he was proud.

'A true spell. His own.'

He felt like a mage. A true mage. After a short fist pump, he sat back down, quite drained again.

The others filled the silence for him.

"You'll be a great wood cutter."

"Are you serious? He destroyed the thing. He would be a terrible woodsman."

"I'm talking about the power. Can you do that?"

"In a day, maybe."

"Bullshit. A week at the minimum."

"For sure. That would have killed any Tier 3 monster."

"Nope. No way. Have you even seen a Tier 3?"

"No. Have you?"

"That's not the point. A tier 3 rhino or boar type could tank it. A wolf or cat would dodge it."

"Dodging is cheating."

"Says who?"

"Well... Tier 2s would be goners, for sure. I bet my right hand."

"Duh."