Three days had passed since Renzen and Kelek joined the Guild. Imp was seldom seen outside her room. The morning following their fight, Imp did not join the group for breakfast. Whether due to his nature as an elf, or thanks to his extensive discipline, Renzen recovered quickly. The wounds that marred his body had fully sealed and there was no hint that he had suffered such grievous injuries. After the second day, Imp made her presence known. She did not speak to anyone, save for single word requests for food at meal time, which Kelek deduced Bayin summoned magically. The smile that he had seen brighten her face on their first meeting was absent. What’s more, the four jagged lines where Renzen had scraped his nails across her face remained. When spoken to, she would give a courteous smile, but return to her meal with no reply. She returned to her room after eating both days. Bayin was unconcerned with her temperament when Kelek raised his concerns to him.
“She just needs time to heal her ego. She will return to normal soon, I’ve seen it before.”
Heal her ego? But she won! Kelek puzzled to himself. He was about to proffer another question before Bayin preempted him.
“Put her out of your mind. I will see to it that she has everything she needs. You should worry only about yourself and your training. I intend to begin instruction today, and it is vital that you are not distracted. Once you’ve finished eating, join me in the basement.”
Kelek eagerly gorged himself on his breakfast of buttered wheat toast and grapes. He had already grown fond of Bayin’s conjured meals. Due to their magical nature, he was able to indulge in out-of-season fruits and the meats were always cooked to his desired temperatures. Though he was certain there were more pressing matters, he secretly hoped the wizard would teach him how to apparate meals of his own. Once his meal was finished, Kelek collected his blank scrolls that he had packed and a pot of ink to jot notes before retiring to the basement. It was his first time in the room, and Kelek was slightly surprised at its humble appearance. A loft of kegs stood in the corner, lit by a single hanging lantern that dangled from the center of the ceiling. Aside from the kegs, the room was bare; save for a single chair and desk beneath the lantern. Bayin stood against the wall that faced the desk. Behind him Kelek spied a large black slate rock that was supported by two wooden beams. Bayin’s staff stood resting against one of the beams that held the slate in place, and in his hand, Bayin carried a length of white chalk. Kelek took his seat and readied a quill and scroll, providing Bayin his rapt attention.
“Magic, as we know it in the form of a spell, is the result of a force of nature, known as Ether, being manipulated to perform a task. Much like a fire is the result of the combination of fuel and heat, a spell can be thought of as a fire in which Ether is the heat and the caster’s life force is the fuel.” Bayin levitated the chalk across the slate wall and drew symbols to illustrate his point.
“Ether permeates every corner of the world, much like the air that we breathe. It even has a physical form, and can be captured within containers if they are treated properly. Though the Ether that ambiently exists in typical environments would scarcely be enough to fill a teaspoon, even if a square mile of the countryside was scoured and harvested of it. Thankfully very little of it is necessary to perform even miraculous feats of magic. Tell me, when you cast your first spell, what did you feel? Think hard, spare me no detail.”
Kelek chewed on his lip as he attempted to recall the event.
“I was bit by a snake… and… I wasn’t really thinking to be honest. It got me through my sock. I rolled it down and put my hand over it. Then there was this wave of warmth that started at my shoulder and ran through my arm and down to my fingers. I didn’t feel anything happen to the bite, but it suddenly stopped hurting once the warmth ran through my fingers. When I lifted my hand, it was gone.”
Bayin nodded while fetching a long pipe out of his robes. He stuck out his thumb and a small flickering flame appeared at its tip. He lit his pipe with the flame before extinguishing it.
“Can you tell me what your thought process was during this event?”
“Well my initial reaction was obviously pain. I just instinctively put my hand over the bite and-”
“And wished it would go away, no?”
Kelek’s face halted in realization.
“It can’t be that simple, right? I can just think about what I want to happen and it will magically be so? No specific incantation or fancy gestures?”
Bayin took a long inhale from his pipe before expelling a cloud of hot smoke that smelled of cherries.
“Yes and no. A truly skilled magician could cast most any spell wordlessly and without the aid of a focus, but it would take many years of practice and he would most certainly need to be a Harnesser. But rudimentary spells, such as patching up a minor skin puncture, should not prove difficult for novice Harnessers to cast on their own. The most important thing to keep in mind when weaving Ether is intent. Your mind must be focused into one singular goal, at the exclusion of all others. The surrounding Ether will enter your body and mingle with your life force until it releases itself in a manner that accomplishes your goal. When you desired to be free of the pain inflicted upon you by the bite, Ether coalesced in your body and accelerated your natural healing; so fast it seems that it was nearly instantaneous. Ether is capable of altering the very laws of the universe to accomplish the goal you want. But it is much easier, and safer, to instead augment and adjust natural phenomena to suit your desire. A person would naturally heal from such a bite within a few days. Therefore a spell that performed this duty in nature’s stead is easy to cast, even accidentally. Now assume you had the misfortune of your leg being severed from your body. No amount of time would cause a person to sprout a new limb to replace their old one. Attempting to cast a spell on the stump to replenish the leg would technically be possible, but it would exact a heavy toll on even the most practiced of wizards. The energy required to reassemble the most basic of elements from the air and earth into a properly functioning human leg would be immense. If such an injury would be mended through magic, it would be best to retain the severed limb and reattach it. Reinnervating it and fastening it to the body would be much simpler than crafting an entirely new one.”
Pondering the wizard’s words for a moment, Kelek asked.
“Dmitri told me a story that Imp had befallen such an injury, and that you fixed her. Was that true?”
“Ahh, indeed. It was the inspiration for my example. I also had to employ the same time stopping spell you witnessed during her fight with Renzen. Such unnatural magic took an extreme amount of energy, which is precisely why I kept her leg to mend. If I had to fashion a new one, I would not have the strength to even walk back to the Guild. When I worked the magic, my intent was to mend her leg. If I didn’t have her leg with me and ready to be stitched back together, the Ether would have attempted to craft a new one. The result would likely have been some partially formed and disfigured mess of skin and bone as I did not have the energy to complete such a complex spell. The Ether will steal as much energy as you have to give to finish the spell, and if you are not cautious, it will snuff out your very life. Are you grasping the importance of intent and physical possibility of spellcasting?”
He nodded, but a question gnawed at his mind.
“I believe so, but I can’t help but wonder. If conjuring whole functioning objects from nothing is so taxing, how is it you’re able to create so much food with no apparent effort?”
“I could enlighten you with the secrets behind my methods, but I fear that you would savor the taste of the creations far less if I did. Suffice to say, the meals I provide are not, as you might presume, simply created from the air. I will leave the matter at that for now.”
Though he wished to press the matter further, Kelek knew that Bayin was not keen on revealing his techniques. He instead turned to another issue that puzzled him.
“Shortly after I healed myself in the garden, I attempted to telekinetically grab a rake that was on the floor a few feet from me. I couldn’t feel anything, no matter how hard I tried to consciously will it into my hand. Then I bit my finger and healed it immediately. I saw you make your staff jump into your hand from the wall in the same way I tried, is it some kind of advanced spell?”
“No. The ability to manipulate objects from a distance is one of the most rudimentary of techniques. The Ether would need only produce a burst of wind from a certain angle the majority of the time. Such a feat would require minimal energy, less so than needed to accelerate the healing of a wound. The reason you could not force the rake to fly into your hands is because of your natural affinity.” Bayin finished smoking his pipe and tapped the remnants of a charred herb from the pipe’s bowl onto the floor before continuing.
“Ether acts as the catalyst that performs miracles. But it requires the wielder’s own energy to instruct it. Think of Ether as a clueless carpenter. You, Kelek, are the engineer that furnishes the blueprints for the creation. You must understand that this aspect of spellcraft is still a great mystery. As we speak, the greatest scholars in the Grand Library of Feldoch continue to research the laws behind natural affinity. Each person has their own unique personality, tastes, accent, sense of humor, indeed everything that makes that person their own individual. Along with those, every person, Harnesser or not, has a particular affinity for specific types of magic. You were able to heal yourself at a mere thought because you are naturally attuned to the Ether in such a way that healing flows from your fingertips like a waterfall cascades down a cliffside. I could not begin to hazard a guess as to why that is, it simply is. Unfortunately the reverse is also true. The manipulation of distant objects must not meld well with your spirit’s natural inclination. Do not fret though. Such difficulties will not bar you from weaving magic as you please. Observe.”
Clearing his throat, Bayin held out his hand and curled his fingers to the ceiling. He closed his eyes and took in a slow breath. After his chest finished rising, a bright sphere of blazing flame appeared in his palm. It encompassed the entirety of his hand, and rose six inches from the tips of his upturned fingers. Heat from the burning orb made sweat bead on both of their foreheads before Bayin dismissed the fireball.
“The ingredients to create fire… are abundant” Bayin said with an obvious labor to his breathing.
“However, conjuring fire beyond the size of candlelight is a task that I find difficult. My strengths lie in the manipulation of water and wind.” He cleared his throat again and wiped his brow with his sleeve.
“I see… So if I wanted to force something into my hands from a distance, it would take a lot of energy and concentration?”
“Not necessarily. Just because something doesn’t come naturally to you, that doesn’t mean that it runs opposite to your natural ability. Conjuring food is not something I learned early on, and it was hardly something that was instinctual for me, like forming floating spheres of water.”
Or closing up a wound. Kelek added in his thoughts.
“You can think of such acts that you aren’t naturally attuned to as ‘neutral.’ With time and practice, you will be able to weave the Ether in a way that makes sense to your essence, and perform the tasks almost as naturally and effortlessly as your inherent ones. But there do indeed exist acts that are so incompatible with an individual’s nature that they impose a monumental tax on their casters. For myself, that involves magic that tinkers with fire. That orb you saw a moment ago is the extent of my capabilities when it comes to conjuring flames. Experienced as I may be, natural talent cannot be discounted. Even a novice magician that had an affinity for fire could conjure blazes that would put my own to shame. You should count yourself lucky that your gift is that of mending. Such a valuable talent will be a boon in our coming expedition.”
Kelek thought to inquire about the expedition that was mentioned, but a more pressing thought presented itself.
“Healing isn’t the only thing I’ve been able to do though. That exploding campfire is the obvious one, but I’ve also been able to cool and heat things to the point of freezing and boiling. It seems to come as naturally as the healing did. Can people have more than one affinity?”
Bayin stood and pondered silently for a few moments before presenting his response.
“It is difficult to pin down an affinity to a basic principle. It isn’t always as cut and dry as someone being able to harness fire. Sometimes that person’s true affinity instead lies in the essence of destruction, and fire is simply their most preferred method of exploring it. That said, multiple affinities are hardly uncommon. As I mentioned, mine are twofold: water and wind. Experimentation on a great deal of varied actions is required to determine your natural affinities. As for now, we can be certain healing is one of them, and it seems that temperature control is another.”
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The wizard stroked his long beard and furrowed his brow, studying every inch of Kelek’s face with his glimmering eyes.
“We have little examples of your abilities to draw conclusions. You must be tested and pushed to your limits to determine what sorts of magic you can expertly wield. Which brings me to another important aspect of wizardry- focuses.”
Bayin took up his staff from his resting spot and tapped it on the cold stone ground a few times.
“Focuses are means through which a spellcaster can unleash their spell with greater effect. No doubt you imagine wizards with implements such as staves and wands, and for good reason. These tools are often equipped with precious gemstones, such as the sapphire that crowns my staff here. Gemstones make for excellent conduits of Ether, allowing it to accomplish its task with greater ease than when unleashed from your body alone. Trees that grow in areas that are thick with Ether have the essence infused into their bark, and staves wrought from this wood are coveted by sorcerers worldwide. You will recall that Ether suffuses every inch of the world. But sometimes a spell’s thirst for Ether cannot be quenched from the air, and a magical focus is necessary to draw out the required power. It is your choice what form your desired focus takes, but I caution you that it would be foolish to continue practicing magic without the aid of a focus. It will not only direct the magic far more accurately, but it will amplify the Ether, conserving your own energy and providing a far more effective spell.”
Kelek had already filled five scrolls with notes of Bayin’s valuable knowledge by the time his inkwell ran dry. Noticing his pupil’s studious note taking, Bayin exhibited a proud smile and snapped his fingers while saying
“Replenish”
In response, dark liquid flooded up from the bottom of the inkwell, refilling it in seconds. Kelek wetted his quill and prepared to record the answer to his next question.
“You haven’t spoken any incantations before now. Does a verbal command affect the nature of the spell?”
Bayin showed delight in Kelek’s ability to catch on.
“Precisely. As it should be abundantly clear to you now, your intention is what instructs a spell to carry out its work. You need not orate these instructions if you can clearly picture them in your mind. However, the mind is a labyrinth of tangled ideas and stray thoughts. It is far too easy for it to wander, and such a misstep could very well mean life or death when on the battlefield. If you do not have the utmost confidence in what your spell will accomplish, then it is foolhardy to rely on thoughts alone. There are no specific words that particularly impact magic, moreso it is the speaker's idea of what the words represent. For example, if I wished to hurl a bolt of lightning at an attacker, I could picture in my mind how such an attack would play out. The Ether would carry out my desire and unleash the lightning from my fingertips. But how much would it unleash? Would it continue to arc from my body until my attacker was dead? Would it stop at their body, or would it continue past them, or chain to multiple assailants? These thoughts occur in your head in fractions of a second, and cause the spell to behave erratically. However, if I were to say ‘lightning bolt’ before casting my spell, I would know exactly what to expect. I have defined what a ‘lightning bolt’ is in my mind. I know if I were to speak this evocation and will the magic into existence, a single brilliant blue lance of energy would streak from my fingertips and pierce forth in a straight line to a maximum of twenty feet before vanishing into nothingness, electrocuting everything in its path. This is the art of spellcraft. Picture in your mind what it is you want to accomplish. Then, without overlooking even the smallest detail, puzzling out precisely what you want the magic to do at every instance. Once you are satisfied with your instruction, give this completed spell a name, so that you might call upon it at a moment’s notice.”
Kelek thought back to the bread he had toasted the morning he left Barkroot. It was the first time he verbalized his magic, and the spell did exactly as he had envisioned. His thoughts danced with ideas of the wondrous spells he would craft, and the epic titles that would crown them.
“Of course there is something to be said about broadcasting your intent to your enemy.” Bayin continued, grinding another herb into his pipe and reigniting the smolder.
“Some magicians choose to disguise their spell’s names in another language, or attempt to fool their opponents by speaking something entirely nonsensical that they have fashioned into a lethal spell. Others choose to let the names of their spells showcase their power, and attempt to intimidate their foes through them. The truly skilled among magic users need not speak their magic into existence, but while you are training you shall only evoke magic that you call forth by name. It is a matter of safety. If you had a spell prepared for your encounter with those bandits, then the resulting explosion would have been far more controlled.”
Kelek blinked his eyes several times. The wisdom that Bayin shared seemed endless, and he could barely keep up with the wizard’s deluge of information. His head began to pound as further questions and fanciful daydreams of potential warred for his precious focus. He was about to request a recess from the lecture when Bayin gave him a slight startle by clapping his hands together. At the sound, a puff of wispy white smoke erupted from the space between the two magicians, and revealed a closed leather trunk that stood nearly as high as Bayin.
“Along with your spells being worded,” Bayin spoke, his words slightly muffled as he held his pipe between his teeth and used both hands to undo the latches from the trunk. “I will require that all of your magic be performed through a focus.”
Bayin swung open the trunk doors and revealed its contents to Kelek. The trunk was lined with bright red velvet and had three molds that each housed a magical implement, increasing in size from left to right.
“It is your choice what best suits you. Focuses can take many forms, a book of incantations, a magicked piece of jewelry, or even a raw gemstone itself. But I can offer you one of three potential focuses that I have to spare today; a wand, a rod, or a staff. Wands tend to be favored by stealthy wizards, as they are lightweight and easy to conceal. This particular wand is not carved from Augurbark like my staff, but small bits of quartz are embedded in its core, which should be more than enough to cast effective magic.”
Bayin removed the wand and handed it Kelek, who hefted it a few times and twirled it between his fingers. The wood was coarse and looked as if it came from a tree that had been burned. It was about the length of his palm, and seemed far too short to feel comfortable wielding. He handed it back to Bayin while shaking his head, and looked at the next offering.
“Rods, or scepters, offer a middle ground between wands and staves. They generally have a gemstone at their crown, and handles of metal wrapped in leather for comfort.”
Kelek took the rod from Bayin’s hands and tested its weight. It was the length of his forearm and displayed a polished garnet that was cut to look like a smooth dome at the tip. Its handle was slightly heavy and appeared to be made of iron. A five inch section toward the bottom of the handle was bound in strips of leather that were ragged and frayed from wear. Kelek was snapped out of his examination by Bayin’s continued explanation.
“Lastly, are staves. A staff that is constructed from Augurbark, the Ether infused wood I had touched on earlier, can carry out even miraculous tasks with little energy stolen from the caster. Without my staff, you would not have observed that display of power you saw the other day. Unfortunately, this staff is not made of such wood. It is simple mahogany with a ruby gemstone.”
Bayin did not remove the staff, but let Kelek observe it from its confines in the recessed groove of the trunk. It had a maroon hue all along its length, and its head bristled out into a crown of thorny tendrils that splayed from the staff with design in their windings. In the center of the staff, like a robin’s egg surrounded by a nest of twigs, was a large ruby. The ruby was cut so that the flattened side lay embedded in the wood, and the remainder of the gem jutted outward like the tip of a spear. Kelek deliberated for a few moments between the rod and the staff. He thought the staff looked beautiful, but was wary about its practicality. It seemed unwieldy, and he disliked the idea of hauling it around everywhere.
“I think… I’ll take the rod. Thank you, Bayin, really I can’t begin to express my gratitude.”
Bayin nodded and closed the trunk before dismissing it with another clap of his hands.
“You can thank me by becoming a Harnesser worthy of the magic you wield. I teach you this knowledge not out of a joy for education, but because I would ask a boon of you. Dmitri, Renault, Imperisha, Renzen- all of them are highly skilled combatants, and I expect you to be their equals.”
Kelek thought it strange he failed to mention Festus or his own grandson.
“I have burdened you with much knowledge today. Go now, and review the things I have taught you. By tomorrow morning, I expect you to be able to levitate an object toward and away from you. Remember to craft a spell with words and cast it through that rod.”
Bayin inhaled from his pipe before rubbing his temple with his other hand.
“And do try not to blow up the hall. The last thing I need is Mercutio hounding me for reparations.”
“Mercutio Brandt? Surely he isn’t still alive. The first Guild was constructed well over a hundred years ago!”
“If only time was enough to beckon that man to death…” Bayin looked forlornly at a vacant shadow in the corner of the basement.
“Forget I mentioned the name. He is of no importance to our training or our imminent expedition.”
“Oh, right, I meant to ask about that. I’m still not sure how exactly work gets done here. Are we going somewhere soon?”
“Yes. It is my intention to lead us on an expedition to Tule. There are ruins beneath the town, and I have reason to believe it is worth our efforts to excavate them. I have already instructed the others on the tasks they must perform, you must focus on becoming proficient enough in magic to hold your own. We will be leaving in a fortnight.”
Bayin dismissed Kelek with a wave of his hand as he magically erased the symbols from the black slate that acted as his chalkboard. Kelek tucked his scattered piles of notes into his pack and climbed the stairs, gripping the garnet-tipped rod in both hands. His vision stung slightly when he breached the hatch that connected to the main floor. The sun had climbed over the coast and beamed through the windows, giving the hall a radiant brightness compared to the basement. Once his eyes adjusted, Kelek spotted Dmitri conversing with Festus at the bar and took a seat to join them. Dmitri was tossing a fist-sized cloth pouch that was cinched shut with a string into the air.
“You sure this stuff is safe to use?” He posited to Festus
“Safe? It’s about as safe as a powder keg in an oven, but it’ll send yer target straight to Hell it will.” He had a smug look of pride on his face at the remark. Dmitri’s smirk was evident even beneath his bandana.
“If you say so. You’ve yet to disappoint so far, that’s for sure.” He pocketed the pouch, leaned both elbows on the bar, and turned to face Kelek.
“How’d the lesson go? Learn to explode a man’s head with a snap of your fingers yet?”
“I think that might be beyond me for the moment, but I did learn a great deal of useful information. I’m still trying to wrap my head around most of it, to be honest. I’m also terribly curious about that weapon of yours. You mentioned it ‘jammed’ right? What exactly did you mean?”
“He meant he bought it from some fourth-rate gunsmith who couldn’t tell black powder from sand!” Festus answered in a haughty tone.
“I’d sooner hang meself before attaching my good name to that wretched piece of junk, feh!”
Dmitri rolled his eyes at the engineer’s protestations.
“Aye, junk though it may be, it’s still a rare weapon. I’d wager I’ve got the only one in these parts. Besides, that’s why we’ve got you here, I’m sure those adjustments you made will make a difference. Probably.”
Kelek studied the firearm that Dmitri pulled out in response to the conversation.
“If it is so poorly made, why do you rely on it as a weapon?”
Dmitri spat out a jovial laugh.
“Rely? If I relied on this thing, I’d’ve been dead long before I ever reached Tynemouth. No, this thing is just for intimidation, and occasions that require more brute force than finesse.”
He shifted his long leather trench coat to the side and revealed a ten-inch scabbard that housed an elegantly jeweled hilt with a thick black handle. Grasping the handle, he unsheathed a gleaming dirk that was polished to a mirror sheen and twirled it nimbly between his fingers.
“This is what I rely on.”
With a mischievous glint in his eyes, he flung the dagger at an alarming speed past Kelek’s ear. He had barely begun his flinch when a twanging thud reverberated through the hall as the blade embedded itself in the far wall. Before Kelek could decry his act, Dmitri sounded a single short whistle and opened his palm. Quick as it was thrown, the dagger reversed its course and flew back into his waiting hand.
“Picked up this beauty from some elf in a game of cards four years ago. Been at my hip ever since. Of course any adventurer worth his spit doesn’t put his whole life on a single weapon, hence the pistol.”
“I thought you said it was a fusil?”
“Aye, wouldn’t you call a stool a chair? Fusil is just a catchall. Damned things have as many named variations as beetles, and seems like a new make pops up every week. I hadn’t even heard of these things five months ago, and now tinkerers the world over are obsessed with them.”
He threw back a shoulder to indicate Fetus that remained seated behind him.
“No one knows who can rightfully claim their invention, but that hasn’t stopped plenty of people from trying. Bought my piece in Regnarce last month. Hot commodities, these. Merchant that came in with a wagonload was cleared out in under an hour.”
“Well that explains it, doesn’t it?” Festus intruded. “Some mass produced slop, no wonder it breaks like a rusted axle. These things should be custom made and fetch a thousand gold, minimum! What I wouldn’t give to meet the brilliant mind behind them.”
Festus let out a longing sigh before slapping his knees and hopping off the barstool.
“Well I’ve loitered plenty. I’ve got to move some shite from me workshop in Ardor for the old man. Likely won’t see you lot til it’s time to make for Tule.”
Festus excused himself with a wave and exited the hall. Kelek bade Dmitri a similar farewell, and retired to his and Renzen’s quarters. To his surprise, Renzen was absent. He placed the garnet scepter on his bed and glanced around the room. A distinct shape caught his eye outside the window and he walked toward it. The visible landscape grew as he approached, and he could see the breathtaking view of the Argentum sea as it sprawled over the horizon. On the beach, sitting on a long overturned husk of a tree, he saw Renzen and Imp.