Chapter 1: The Liezi

Ice whites of the moon & fire reds of the sun. Before you is a painting of five peaks. This painting, however, is incomplete. It is said that only when the king was present in front of it – would the painting be complete.

As I touched the wall behind me, it felt like pushing against a glacier. Exhausted, I sat staring down the misty corridor. Numbness is the word I'd use. Numb to the pain, to the slow footsteps of my inevitable death approaching. Numb to everything but regret. The thought of death is almost always followed by the thought of regret. All this for that book. I should be passing time as I wished, eating Denny's pancakes and reading whatever I picked off my shelf this morning while I flunked on school and studied as I wanted. But instead I followed those two idiots all over that dumb cursed book.

Death is always followed by regret and the thought of what could have been, what was and what's happening. Bitter numbness. My gaze falls low to the colourless floor. And those slow footsteps came to a halt. "He" arrived on scene.

“Magic Fundamentals Extract 1:”

"Magic is a curse bestowed upon the 8 great families. Each family’s curse differs and evolves into something greater with each next of kin. The family your born into will be the deciding factor in 20% of your magic efficiency however, there are certain cursed artifacts that boost or allow for the ability to channel forms of magic that would normally be too difficult for the user.”

“There! I told you,” Ruri gleefully interrupted me. We were seated by the window in a Denny’s. Warm, adequate lighting with background music at low volume. I like this restaurant in particular because the second floor allows you to overlook the neon street below from a bar. It’s always prettiest at night. The time on my watch was 3:08, the restaurant was borderline empty.

Ruri pulls out a book with her family crest ingrained onto the cover and places it next to mine. “That last line is in reference to the liezi, see even a book from the universities library mentions it.” We were in our fourth week of university. Ruri is a friend I knew in middle school, but we attended different high schools since her parents moved away. I was always jealous of her silk like, black hair and she refused to tell me what she used for it, I still hold it against her.

“I suppose you’re right, but it still feels like a bit of a stretch. That could really mean anything,” I say, taking a drink from my milkshake. Before university started Ruri took a trip to her family head’s house and is convinced, she discovered an ancient text while going through their library. The text speaks about a cursed book that will give its host access to ancient knowledge and boundless magic.

“As soon as I’ve decrypted the next page, I should get the location. Its annoying because some of it is in English and some of it is in another language but I’m getting it so far.” Ruri has always been book smart but at the same time trendy. Her sister is always giving her money to spend on the newest clothes. Lately she’s wearing bright purple lipstick to match her uniquely purple eyes, along with a pair of purple gem earrings that hang a few centimetres from a thread. They glow ever so lightly with mana.

“When did you get those?” I ask pointing to the earrings. They’re popular among witches as they’re sold with gemstones that can store mana.

“My sister bought them for me as a gift before university started.”

“They’re prettier than mine. We’ll have to go shopping for some new ones next time we’re in the jade district.”

“White suits you. Matches your hair.”

The night whisks away as my watch turns to 3:27 and we hear the “Hi, welcome to Denny’s.” break the silence of the restaurant for the first time in hours. Up the stairs comes a tall boy with long brown hair that passes his ears and curls to a stop halfway down his neck. Nate Zenith, we’ve attended the same schools since we were children but were mostly in different classes until weekends. In the modern age, magic is kept a secret. Children attend normal school on weekdays then mage school for a few hours on weekends. We only completely attend a mage academy in university. Which is now.

“Don’t tell me you’re dodging classes already, Salem.” Nate pulls a stool and sits next to us. “What was it: ‘once I get to university and they start teaching me magic, then I’ll take class seriously.’”

“Shut up Nate,” mutters Ruri.

“When they start teaching me something interesting Ill attend. At this point I learn more studying alone.”

“It’s been 4 weeks; you didn’t even give them a chance!” Nate laughs like I’m being ridiculous, but I don’t have all the time in the world like him. To put it plainly, Nate doesn’t get tired. He is cursed to “never know the sweet feeling of a good night’s sleep.” That’s how they treat his family curse, like its some burden but Nate is the first in six generations to inherit it and its proficiency shows in his grades: top of the class in every subject, breaking countless academic records in normal school and magic school. He can study as long as he wants without ever getting tired, or mentally exhausted. Although he says if he stares at a computer for more than 48 hours he vomits.

“What’re you studying now? This is a fundamentals of magic book, right? Why do you need that?”

“Well, Ruri is looking for this thing called the lie-“ I’m interrupted by Ruri making “lalalala” noises as she puts her hand over my mouth.

Nate chuckles, “If you don’t want me to know its fine. Whatever secret your hiding with the magic fundamentals book, it’s yours to keep.” The Denny’s waiter arrives and places a vanilla milkshake in front of Nate.

“Boring.” Ruri turns away and sips the straw of her strawberry milkshake.

“What’s wrong with vanilla?”

“It’s boring. Even Salem has more class. It’s like getting one of those buckets of Neapolitan ice cream as a kid. The ones with 3 stripes of chocolate, strawberry and vanilla. First the strawberry stripe, then the chocolate one and then the vanilla stripe would sit there for weeks before anyone in our house would finish it.”

“Actually, we’d finish the vanilla stripe first and the one that would sit alone was strawberry.”

Ruri gasps with a face that screams: “family of heathens.”

“My parents didn’t buy whatever it was they were talking about. I only like chocolate ice cream, so your argument is beneath me. Chocolate is the superior choice no matter what.”

Nate put down his milkshake and pulled out a notebook from his pocket. “Salem, you know that spell you learn in first school to change into uniform. Lately, I’ve been wondering if that spell can be edited.”

Ruri scoffs, “Why did you only address Salem, we all learn that spell in first school.” Nate ignores her with a grin.

“Edited in what way?” I ask.

“Well, the spell works by saving whatever you were wearing and pocketing it in a dimension. It’s an incredibly intricate spell but it performs such a simple task of changing clothes. The spell is coded into a gemstone and once you’ve learned it, performing the hand motion will call the spell from the gem. Imagine this though,” Nate sits forward, “what if you could pocket things like magic and calling the spell would instantly call stored magic without any buildup.”

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I ponder the thought while Ruri slurps her milkshake in silence. “I suppose that would be quite useful for surprising opponents. But how would you do it.”

“Well, I think it comes down to changing the properties of the gemstone, but little books touch on the subject and even understanding how this pocket dimension is formed in the first place is difficult. I just wanted your opinion on it. I’ve always wondered where specific spells like this that you cant imagine in your head like fire or water are called from.”

“Probably a book with all the commands written out,” says Ruri, after finishing her drink.

“But how is that called by the gemstone. Maybe another spell we don’t know that’s linking them. We know mana can be stored in gemstones, we store our own mana and call it later. Maybe someone else’s mana is stored in gemstones before we buy them and that’s why the spell is so easily called despite it actually being so complicated.” Nate sighs and rubs his chin. “But I don’t understand how this spell can be called so many times by so many people and the source hasn’t run out of mana.”

Talking with Nate makes me think deeper about magic. It’s a complicated thing that would be understood so much easier if the people of the past weren’t so careless with their documented knowledge. Mages of the modern age are living in the “blind era.” Due to the eight great family’s civil war that lasted two centuries but ended just decades ago, books containing important knowledge were either locked to members of that family only with protection spells or burned in raids on enemy families’ strongholds. A lot of teachers are advocating self-study and in recent years the university has adopted a “mission system” for extra credit where you search abandoned ruins anything left behind.

Ruri stands up to get some water from downstairs and says she’ll be back in a second. “Salem,” Nate turns to me, “what are you gonna do about the first semester exam?”

“When is that?”

“You’re really hopeless, you know that right? What will you do if I don’t tell you these things.” I glance away from Nate at the neon lights below. “You haven’t been practicing, all you’re doing is studying whatever you want. You might fail the written test if you don’t know what’s on it.” He was right. I hadn’t practiced magic in 3 months and all Ive been studying is stuff that’ll probably be on the end of year exam. “You know it’s next week, right?” Nate scratches his head.

“Whatever, it’ll be fine. I’m sure I’ll at least pass.” But Nate seemed dissatisfied with this answer. Less staring at me and more through me, like he refused to hear me answer and was still waiting for me to talk. Me thinking I’ll pass isn’t good enough for you, I question to myself.

After finishing his milkshake Nate heads off home. The time was 4:36 when I next checked my watch and Ruri showed obvious signs of fatigue like: almost slamming her head into the bar because she fell asleep sitting up, so I decided to call it a night.

As we walked through the streets, Ruri promised me, “I will decode this location and get us our cursed book. That ought to be worth some credit.” And with that, we departed outside her apartment and 3 days later, she decoded it.

We arrived outside an abandoned cathedral. Ruri took a step back as we stood at the front step and looked up for the first time. A castle that reached the moon and stars. A castle protecting not a king but a curse. Ruri withered up the steps like a ghoul but took a deep breath and composed herself at the door. Something was amiss. Ruri had no problem mouthing away all up until tonight. Each question was answered dull and quick. “Would anyone be protecting it?”, “No one knows it’s there.” “What’s the curse on the book?”, “You will be stuck with the book it seems.”, “stuck?”, “If you put it down, it will find its way to you.”

Inside felt strange. Not in the way you’d feel normally when in an old building that you’d travelled to the past or in awe at the entrance hall we now stood in but like we physically entered another realm entirely. I thought it could be transportation magic, but I could still sense the same hotspots of mana a little ways away from here, probably other witches. This meant we hadn’t actually gone anywhere but it felt like we had. As I pondered about whether it could be advanced illusion magic that I hadn’t noticed, Ruri, who seemingly hadn’t noticed anything, pulled out one of her family’s books. The leather cover was ingrained with inscriptions, usually a marking of the family crest and a ward spell to stop other families from opening it. An important spell during the civil war.

“I’m reading for any clues but its very vague and difficult,” she says before walking through a large wooden doorway, a great creak echoed throughout the cathedral but what lay on the other side was not supposed to be in a cathedral. It was a high school corridor. My high school.

“Ruri,” for a moment, I couldn’t talk. Like a demon’s cold heartless hands latched around my neck and tightened. I gasped and almost fell forward. “Ruri, something is wrong. We have to leave.” Illusion magic is uncommon. Not a single person today specialises in illusion magic for one simple reason. It is useless – or at least, I thought.

I turned around and the door we came through was gone, along with any other doors we could have chosen from before. Replaced with cold, hard stone. I knew Ruri hadn’t anticipated this because not only had she not replied to me, but she hadn’t moved either. I could hear her breath but even worse, feel her fear. Just watching her I froze too, we were trapped in something we were unable to even process, were we even where we stood. How strong was this illusion? We could be beaten to near death right now, bleeding out without a way to know we were about to take our last breath. Suddenly I felt dizzy, and Ruri must have too, only snapping awake from this numbing fear when her grip loosens, and her family book shuts against the cathedral floor in an echoed thud.

“Salem,” Ruri finally mutters. “We-“ she stops. Then takes a deep breath. “We should head that way.”

Numbness is how I’d describe it. Each step down this corridor was a step-down memory lane but also a step deeper into this illusion. My head felt heavier than 5 steps prior, my legs felt weaker than 5 steps prior and my hands felt number, than 5 steps prior. I looked at Ruri. She was counting. “5, 2, 1, 0.” And again. “5, 2, 1, 0.”

“What are you doing?” my voice now muffled, echoing in my own head. “Counting,” said Ruri. Her voice now muffled too; in fact, everything was like that. “In the classrooms, there are numbers written on the whiteboards.” We have to break this illusion I thought. I’m going to die.

“Salem, will you check page 5 in my book,” asks Ruri.

“But I cant open it,” I say, dragging my feet along the floor. I wanted to open Ruri’s book, I wanted to stop walking, and I wanted more than anything to break out of this illusion. Until – it began to feel good. Maybe it was lack of oxygen, did I forget to breathe? My face was numb, but I imagined opening my mouth to make sure I took a breath. Maybe it was part of the spell, and this was meant to happen. Maybe this meant I was breaking out of the spell and the good feeling was me returning to my body. But my senses were dulled, then I realised I had no peripheral vision, with this thought, I turned to Ruri who – wasn’t there. She had collapsed a few steps behind me. Adrenaline. I bit my tongue, then opened my mouth and took in a big gasp of air. I had forgot to breathe. The same thing probably happened to Ruri. I almost died.

“Ruri,” I said in a weak exhale. But she was unresponsive, drool leaking from her purple painted lips onto the cheap marble floor. I grab the book from her frail hand and open it to page 5. As I do, the cathedral bell chimes, page 2: again, page 1: same thing, then I open page 0 but hear nothing. Instead, I read it: “5 peaks and 2 marbles light the sky, 1 king in place of nothing. Only when the king is away, will the book of dreams close again.” Not knowing that this would begin a ritual of death, I close the book.

The first thing I felt was nothing. Then I moved. Cold wasn’t enough to describe it. The most intense ice magic pummelled my body before I could counter it. I barely managed to cast a ward spell before I realised, I was back in the great hall of the cathedral. I ignite a flame before me, but the ice expelled it immediately. It was like a blizzard. I used the last of my strength to run for cover into a corridor. Exhaustion dragged me to the floor as soon as I escaped. What happened to Ruri I didn’t know but I could hardly see through the mist in the great hall once it picked up, if she was in there, she would probably die. I think about the poem in the book. “Only when the king is away.” In exchange for freedom, it seems I’ve pulled the king from his throne. A ritual of death is something only in ancient stories. The liezi must be guarded by the soul of an old king, if I beat him, I will be free.

Icicles slash through the edge of my legs before the blizzard envelops the corridor. In that moment, I realise the mistake I’d made, going into a confined space against such a spell only made it stronger, I immediately tried to gather distance, but an icicle stabbed straight through my thigh. I yelped then grit my teeth. Tears turning to ice as they fell from my cheek. Then a powerful wind pushed me off my feet and I thrashed against the wall, falling unconscious for what only felt a moment. But I awoke to searing pain. Icicles pierced my torso. My blood frozen on the ground. Footsteps approached but I couldn’t see who. The blizzard had stopped but mist remained. The entire corridor was frozen over. I stared with sunken eyes at the monster capable of such other worldly magic. A ruined crown a top a ghoulish head, black frail hair that stopped at his pale, thin neck. Long spider-like fingers held tightly onto a book with a green jade gem encrusted onto the cover.

I felt numb. The power emanating from that book made me numb. Like falling asleep on drugs when you know you shouldn’t. Cursed magic. Something I would now never have, teased before me as I sit against the wall, moments from death. But then, I felt warm.