1. Arrival
I wake to find myself lying on a large circle of protection of some kind.
It looks intricate and complex.
I'm nauseous and I have a difficult time concentrating.
As my mind slowly reasserts itself, I stay prone, pushing my upper body away from the floor.
Outside the circle I see someone lying face down on the stone floor. I think it's a he.
I crawl closer and reach out to turn his face, but I pull back in surprise as a shriveled face with empty eyes stare back at me.
The face has a long thin beard. The skin leathery and dry. He looks like he dropped and dried out, whilst aging decades or even centuries in an instant.
What the fuck is going on here?
As I get to my feet and cautiously amble around the room, I begin to register more details about my surroundings.
The room I'm in seem comfortably lit, but I can't find a light source. It's almost as if the light is emanating from the walls, floor, and ceiling.
Then I realize that the room is circular by the gently curving walls. It's large and I'd guess it to be 20 meters in diameter with the circle in its center.
There are shelves and tables all around and everything looks very ordered.
Well, except the body on the floor and a tear in the circle that looks like it goes an inch or two into the stone floor.
The room almost looks like a scene out of Harry Potter or a D&D movie.
The items around me look archaic, alchemical (as in something an alchemist or witches should be tossing into a cauldron, whilst cackling about doubling down on their troubles & toils), and distinctly magical.
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I spent some time carefully making my way around the room. There's a door at one end with a stairway, but I haven't done more than look behind it to see that the stairway was there.
Instead, I've taken stock of the situation.
I'm in a strange place and I have no idea of how I got here.
I have my clothes, my keys, phone, wristwatch, lip balm, headphones and some nifty new scars, that are slowly disappearing.
I also found a journal.
A journal that I was able to read.
A journal that I was able to read even though I've never seen the language it was written in, and the moment I saw it I just knew!
I knew what the words meant, I knew how to read, write and speak the language.
I believe the journal belonged to the raisin-like corpse on the floor, but it's difficult to get much out of it as it's written like a research journal; no unnecessary information and very little of the personal sort.
But as I've been able to stitch together, the mage on the floor was working on a project.
He needed someone from another reality; one which didn't have magic.
I was just lucky to have been picked I guess. He wasn't even looking for someone special. He just picked the first one he scried through his magical scrying implement... thingy.
He then did something to my body and my Soul while he held me in the in-between. For some reason, he had to do it while I was between realities.
The scars I saw that were disappearing were where he cut me up to insert implants. Some sort of enchanted.... something. I don't know if they're gems or rocks or metals of some kind, but I can feel where they were grafted to the bone and I can also feel them dissolving.
I never believed in souls, but this guy sure did. Maybe he was wrong. Maybe souls only exist if there's magic. Maybe everyone back home has Souls.
This guy; I wonder what his name was.
He wanted to use me after he was done. He wanted to take over and use my modified body as his new meat.
It looks like he had a plan but as usual, something went wrong. Something always goes wrong in stories.
It seems something went wrong as he was about to pull me into his reality and transfer himself into his new meat-suit.
I should be freaking out. Even as I think it, I want to laugh at the absurdity and the cliché.
Am I calm because of what he did to me? Could I be in shock or denial?
Did I want this?
I stopped caring back home. I was busy feeling sorry for myself and slowly melting away from socializing. From my friends and most of my family.
I wanted to disappear. Start over or sleep and never wake up.
I tried slapping myself in the face and punched a wall. I felt both so unless I'm hallucinating, I'm here. Wherever here is.
Even if it's a simulation or a prank, there are too many things that seem beyond a prank, like the implants, my sudden ability to read and understand a foreign language.
The notes detail a bunch of the modifications, but there is missing information. Some places there are only references to modifications that are never explained, either because he wanted to keep them from prying eyes or he just didn't feel the need to explain since he was doing it for himself.
I feel weak and beaten. Then again, I did technically just have major surgery.
But from what I can put together, I have been hidden from magical sight. He wanted this body to be invisible from scrying and other magical detection.
Even though I feel weak, my mind, soul, and body should improve rapidly and with a heightened potential. Thus the more I train each aspect, the stronger, smarter, better I should become overall.
I've decided to start keeping a journal like the Body-snatcher, formerly known as a wizard, who messed up and gave me something new to experience.
The author's content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.
I don't know the time and date in this place. I don't even know if a year, month, day, or an hour has the same length as back home (if they even use any of those terms or concepts). Whatever their calendar is, I'll keep my time by the calendar I know from back home.
It is now: 2018-04-26 Midday
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2. Exploring
It is now: 2018-05-02 Evening
I've been here for a week and I've been exploring.
I'm in a wizard's tower. I kid you not.
The room in which I awoke was near the top of the tower.
The stairs up lead to the roof or battlements or whatever they're called here and let me tell you; the view was fucking fantastic.
The tower is in a small clearing and around that are trees for as far as I can see. But the forest is thick. Not a jungle though. Maybe this is what they call an evergreen forest?
I can see what looks like mountains in the distance and in some places the landscape seems hilly, but I'm rather high up, so my perspective may be skewed.
As I alluded to, the tower is pretty tall, and there's seemingly something wrong with the perspective as if the top of the tower is higher than the length of the tower should allow. Just looking down the length of the tower is making my eyes water.
The base of the tower is also larger on the inside than it is on the outside. There's definitely something strange going on with the spatial dimensions inside of this tower (and most likely the same can be said about the outside as well). I also don't believe that it should be architecturally sound to have a medieval stone tower, be this "thin", and tall.
I haven't been to all the floors or rooms yet, but there are hundreds. Well maybe not hundreds, but it wouldn't surprise me.
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I've identified some key locations that I'm working out of.
First of all, there's the library, and let me tell you; I've had some good and weird times in here.
When I found and opened my first magical tome, I didn't move for the rest of the day. I ended up peeing in a vase (I think it was a vase), and I only moved because I became so hungry that I couldn't concentrate on reading anymore.
It's safe to say that I've been spending a lot of time in the library and I've been learning about magic and this world. I even cast a few easy spells; which felt amazing. I feel that I should be afraid of becoming addicted because it feels fantastic, and I'm not just talking about the novelty and psychological power-trip of casting spells!
What I'm referring to is the physical sensation of pleasure, combined with effort and exhaustion. It feels like the best workout combined with a light buzz, your favorite food, fragrance and everything you enjoy wrapped up in a metaphor and shot directly into your brain and soul.
Then again; any mistakes HURT! At one time I spent a few hours throwing up and another time nursing a migraine for a few days.
Magic should be taken seriously and I should concentrate. I can dick around if and when I become a great mage or wizard.
They have a lot of terms for people who use magic, and the distinctions between them have not been readily available. But some I can make sense of, like necromancers, demonologists, healers, etc. But I'm not entirely sure what the defining difference is between a warlock, witch, wizard, and mage. But I hope to find out.
There's also something familiar about magic, but I can't put my finger on it. Like a word you can't remember, that's taunting you in an alluring manner as if you're just on the cusp of realizing or remembering, but it refuses to give up its secrets. I gave up in a huff and I'm sure it will come to me sooner or later.
I've also found a new ability. As my health, experience, and strength grows, I've begun to read faster. A LOT faster.
It's only been a week, but I'm reading so fast that I'm afraid of damaging the books, scrolls, tomes, and tablets I've been studying.
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Secondly; I've moved into the personal study of the mummified douche-raisin, also known as the former Arch Mage of this tower.
Though I also found his bedroom, I didn't want to move into it.
As I see it; he wanted to steal my body and my soul, so it was going to belong to me (with his memories), and the idea of moving in there scares me juuuuust a bit. What if it feels nice & familiar? Would it mean that he's in my mind somewhere? That he wants me to move in there? That a part of him is inside my somewhat youthful mind-meats?
Although I feel silly when I think rationally about it, I can't get the thought out of my head. Staying out of the guy's bedroom makes me feel more in control of my mind, so for the sake of sanity, I've dubbed his bedroom a no-no zone. An emotional no man's land that makes me pucker up in superstitious and ambitiously paranoid discomfort. One of the few places I disagree with the constructive input of my over-zealous imagination.
Then there's the kitchen. I've always loved meditating in a kitchen and this place has got an amazing one.
It took me a while to figure out most of the enchanted kitchenware, but I think I've gotten most of it. Many of the enchanted tools and implements are analogous to tools in my own kitchen back home, though with a lot fewer safety features. I guess people are taught to be a lot more careful here, or perhaps they're less worried about losing a finger to the "magi-blend 2000bc", (or however they name things here), when they have magic to heal lost limbs.
I also practice my magic in the kitchen by using spells to cut, heat, boil, dry, and whatever else you might imagine.
I grow fruits and vegetables with spells meant to rapidly grow them from seeds.
I made a box in the kitchen and filled it with dirt from outside as soon as I taught myself that spell.
I then use other spells to cut, grate, crush and otherwise prepare the ingredients.
I've gotten good enough to manifest a few plants without seeds and I've gotten good at slicing and dicing at a distance.
It seems to me that working the kitchen with creative uses of magic is excellent practice for any mage at any level for any profession. Cooking (for me), is a good analogy and metaphor for life in general.
Training is especially challenging when I have to keep a dish afloat with one spell, whilst carefully trying to bake everything on it without burning the food or destroying the plate, whilst cranky & hungry.
I'm eating pretty well though and all my kitchen work has segued into a bit of herbalism and alchemy. I haven't made my first potion yet, but I plan on getting there. Mostly because I can't find any coffee in this place and I fear the world, in general, is cursed with a lack of dark, caffeinated drinks with a bitter aftertaste to give me that fresh-out-of-bed, rage-filled disappointed in life feeling I get from being stimulated with pure darkness in liquid form every-single-morning. I feel it's important to stick with patterns that work.
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Thirdly; There are also training rooms.
I guess that dried up husk of a meat-suit, (formerly known as an ego-maniacal Arch Mage intending on having his way with the single-soul apartment that I call my body, after evicting my identity), used to have servants, guards, animals, prisoners, apprentices, guests, etc.
So besides the living quarters for most of these people, I also found their workshops, studies, stables, training rooms, and everything in between.
Training rooms for combat magic, for hand to hand fighting, for weapons training, and apprentices.
Some populated with magical constructs and illusions meant to help you improve.
I've decided to begin practicing the bow and maybe some short swords or daggers? I've seen movies and despite recognizing that I really know very little about medieval combat (even without the addition of real magic), I find dual-wielding to be the "cool", and fun choice and thus I choose this style, instead of something safer and more practical.
On the other hand. I have magic. If I have an arsenal at my fingertips, why not indulge a little frivolous fun?
Why am I trying to justify myself to a journal? A journal that I suppose only I will ever read. Get off your high horse and stop judging me, you wrinkly yellow paper with your artfully stylish and well-bound cover.
I, Hipster Wizard, have spoken, and so shall it be. (Dual wielding daggers or swords mind you. I'm still trying to defend doing something impractical.)
For now; I have stuff to read, plants to cook and eat, and a place to rest.
Thus I don't get bored and I'm not super keen on meeting others, I just don't feel the need and I don't feel lonely. But I will go explore the world at some point. Just not right now.