A few days had passed since my arrival. Still in the process of discovery, I was eager to know this place inside and out. Along with this effort, the new

spells I had learned from Günnuaç were keeping me busy. It was impossible for me to run out of things to practice. My incompetence did not deter me from

passionately improving myself. Each new cantrip I added to my memory contributed to my feeling that I was a poet, expanding his arsenal with time. Vivid was

the memory of me casting Díodómach Ateáin for the first time. Under the rain but protected by the gleamtree, I learned the method of designing fire.

"Out of all the things that exist on this earth, plasma is broadly the easiest to manipulate with magic" I remember Günnuaç telling me. The day had passed,

and darkness had encircled the earth. Sitting across the campfire I wondered if there was a spell that could show the future inside a flame. "Do you know what

plasma is?" she asked." No, what is it?" I said. "It is the most volatile version of matter. For example, fire is plasma. Lightning is plasma. Díodómach Ateáin

can control all plasma, but since it is a weak spell that is generally used only for practice it is named after its ability to manage flame." She took a

deep breath. "Are you ready to begin?" she asked. I nodded.

Most simple spells and cantrips could be cast in a very similar way, by first concentrating magical energy and then commanding the Sichocht in a specific

way. This cantrip didn't break the trend. Günnuaç raised her whole left arm slightly and as she was doing so small particles phased into existence near her

hand. She uttered "Díodómach Ateáin", and grabbed a piece from the campfire. The fire, instead of burning her, configured itself into a thin bright string as

it twirled around her fingers. Playing with this galvanizing line, she calmly moved her fingers to excite the flame into taking many forms. When it was time

to finish this charming little performance, she threw the trapped source of heat back into the fire. "For now, don't worry about damaging your hand" she said.

"I will cast a ward on your hands." With her encouragement, I got a bit closer to the fire. Günnuaç clasped her hands together and murmured "Küaça Kosaima"

quietly. Swiftly separating her hands caused a bunch of faded, sparkling specks to erupt into the air. Before I could react the small things gathered on my

hands, creating a thin layer of colorless magical substance. Before doing anything I summoned the energy necessary to bring the spell into effect. Feeling

ready to catch the fire, I said "Díodómach Ateáin" and tried to grasp a shard. I expected a thin bright thread to be dancing around my fingers but there was

none there and the protective ward had gotten slightly damaged, though it regenerated with impressive speed.

"Try thinking of your intent as you're rousing the energy" the woman suggested. "If you do it right less particles will apparate, and they will be red

instead of green."

And so with that advice I tried again. As I was for the higher plane which housed the resource I needed for my spells, my focus didn't falter. It remained

on the fire. Once again I spoke. "Díodómach Ateáin." Plunging my hand into the flame, I took a small thing from the source. I watched as it glided in

between my fingers. Turning my hand resulted in the little curiosity shifting into new spots, as it was eager to remain unstable. Eventually, deciding to

send it back to its originator, I coiled the weird apparition around my middle finger and flicked it back to its source.

"Nicely done" commented Günnuaç. "You threw the little guy back in there as well. Avoiding the risk of a fire is important, so I advise you do that when

you can."

"But fires are cool!" I said, but my teacher was quick to correct me.

"Not here, and not now. If anything in here is set alight I may be able to stop it, but not if it spreads too quickly. And if one of the tents is caught

then that would be especially terrible." She then pronounced the words "Hargadli Daugh", closing her eyes in the process. A humanoid figure made out of

wood rose from below in the center of the flame. In unison with the nuanced motions of her fingers, the puppet acted as if it was suffering. The skin,

flesh and organs burning. I could almost sense the incommunicable, soul-destroying pain it was in. Without much time elapsing, its arms fell off. Soon

enough its head did was well. Günnuaç opened her eyes and spoke again.

"I apologize, for that must have been disturbing to witness. But I really want you to comprehend the danger a knowing misstep can cause."

"I... understand." My six-year old vocabulary still didn't include words like "misstep" but her message had made itself very clear anyways.

Following that day I continued to practice the cantrips and little hexes I learned along the way. My vocabulary was expanding, both magically and

literally. Most of my neighbours spoke common, but all of them knew Brórurçe. Some of them were better at speaking it than common, which made sense as it

was their native language. Continuing to live among them led to me to slowly acquire expertise in Brórurçe. I was still very, very far from fluency yet my

stubborn progress was steady.

Through my tenacious advance I kept inquiring about newer spells. With Heafán Rüzoth I could call a breeze to carry or move small objects. Using Ekluir

Solnağı I could temporarily add a glow to an object that I touched. My continuous day to day development made me quite happy.

On a day that was quite bleak and grey even by autumn's standards, Nacian called me towards him. I was out in the field playing with other children.

A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

"Firdevie has great news for you my son!" he shouted. The evidence for what those news were had already made itself known in my mind but I didn't want to

get my hopes up, so I remained calm. "Head home!" he said.

"Sorry, I have to go!" I said while running to gran's tent. The fifteen seconds in which I sprinted towards our tent did not go to waste as I thought about

which books I was going to read next. Would I carry on with my study of İlkrang Büyaoi Bilolas, or would I choose to enter the world of another primordial

text? Or perhaps there were story or history books among the pile which I had not seen in my short trip to the hut. I realized during the middle of these

thoughts that keeping my expectations down wasn't possible anymore.

My heart was pounding with anticipation (and slight exhaustion) as I turned around one last corner. Sure enough, in front of our house, stood the same

books that I'd set my eyes only about a week ago. Some of the empty chests that previously held my grandmother's belongings were next to these tomes. A

peculiarly tall woman and Firdevie were counting and examining the books. They looked quite scholarly in their concentration. With the bewitching motions

she did in her dark robe covered in golden motifs the towering woman presented herself, to my immature brain at least, as a menace. She had collected all

of her white hair on the back of her head with a bun.

Trying to stay wary, I began approaching the books. Before I had even reached the halfway point, the woman spoke to me.

"Your diligence in your studies is a thing that Firdevie talks about often" her native Brórurçe had contributed greatly to her heavy accent. She turned to

face me. "She is quite proud of you." Not knowing what to say at first, after a brief delay I replied "She loves me."

"A brief summary of her emotions' true extent, but not altogether incorrect." Extending her arm towards towards me she said "You needn't be afraid of me. I

am Hearrain, friend to Firdevie."

"You still speak with more grandiosity than me" cheered Firdevie from the side, lifting her head up from her work. "Nothing is missing it seems."

"I'm glad" said Hearrain. "It is time for me to return to my watch. In the meantime," she returned her gaze to me, "take care of yourself, Farriz." With

that, she left us to perform her duties.

"Was she a mage?" I asked Firdevie. "I suppose she could be called -a- mage, so yes." I looked at the pile of books in front of me.

"How did all of these get here?"

"Hearrain was able to bring them all here with a spell, dear."

"Can all sorcerers do that?"

"No, dear. Only some of them" she said. She picked up a book from on top of another pile of books, and showed it to me. It was İlkrang Büyaoi Bilolas. I

could barely contain my excitement.

"Finally!" I yelled, but noticing the missing presence of something that was just as significant as the books to me I asked a question immediately

afterwards. "What about the tree?" Gran pointed at a distant spot outside the gleamtree border, on which my very first tree stood. "You thought of

everything!" I yelled again.

"Quiet dear, people are around us" she reminded me.

"Kindheart, I hope this gave you joy." I jumped to show my happiness. "Good, good" she replied as she was wrapping one of her arms around me. "If I have

done this then all else is fine."

A few days passed by. My progress through the dense green book of dryadic spells was somewhat slow, but I never gave a second thought to this. I wanted

mastery. I was committed. My resolve refused to give out to any obstacles along the way. Thanks to Günnuaç's tuition I learned a few key distinctions and

facts as well. Cantrips were the spells that a magician of any discipline could cast, whereas any other spell required specialization in a narrower field

of magic. As an example Fas Bü could only be cast by druids, dryads and the like. There were spells that blurred the line between cantrip and spell, (as in

some of these in-between spells could possibly be cast by an unrelated mage, but that depended on the individual) but they were rare. On this path of

discovery I acquainted myself with the few other sorcerers in the commune. One of them was a small boy my age, Eirrír was his name. I first saw him while he

was manipulating a band of lightning around his body.

"That must be so hard to do!" I told him while he was showing off his powers to a group of other children.

"I am a mage. It's normal for us" he said. "I can wrap this around your arm" he continued while stretching the buzzing rope with his hands.

"Sure" I replied. He then straightened the peculiar piece of plasma and stabbed it into the ground, making it dissipate instantly. He said "Don't move" as

blue particles showed up around his hands. He kept his hands facing each other while reciting "Şintmeach". Another piece of lightning loudly appeared

between them. At first it was only a beam of light, but it quickly broke into entropy as it bent and twisted into many chaotic shapes. It grew thicker. When

it became big enough Eirrír grabbed it by its ends and carefully conducted it around my arm. It now looked like a snake that had coiled itself around my

arm. "You can move your arm now" he said finally. His hands were still up in the air, and they were pointed at my arm. I assumed that he still had to

deliberately prevent the lightning from striking my arm. I brought my arm to and fro in the air, observing the curious loop crackle and shift. "Can I take

it home?" I asked the boy. "It would strike you and disappear without me" he said.

"You can take it back." It was time to display my skills. Eirrír attentively removed his spell, and then stabbed it into the ground like before.

"What is your name?" I asked immediately after.

"Eirrír" he answered.

"Can I show you something?" His unbothered gaze conveyed his disinterest very well.

"What are you going to show me?"

"Magic." He was surprised. "Do it" he told me. With his permission I cast the spell Dotiayuionna Hámva. Swiftly enough a protrusion outlining the shape of a

circle started to rise out of the ground. As it formed water began filling its insides. When the structure reached knee height it ceased expanding.

What resulted was a pool that resembled the stump of a large tree that was cut at the base. The water contained within was slightly bubbly, and smelled

faintly of lilacs. "You can drink it" I said. With my incentivization he got close to the water's surface and took a sip with his hands. Impressed, he

turned to me and pointed his thumb upwards. "Impressive" he commented. "What's your name?"

"Farriz."

In Brórurçe, he said something to me in a warm tonality. He saw my confusion. "I said, you have a beautiful name."

"Thank you." He drank from the water again. "Your lips are dry. Would you like to drink some?"

"Yes" I replied.