“Words and Magic were in the beginning one and the same thing and even today words retain much of their magical power.”
Sigmund Freud
“Magic?” I asked intrigued.
Magic! Yes, please! Yes, I had some and yes it was fun, intriguing and exciting to explore the possibilities. But at the same time, it did feel like most of my applications of mana were brute-forcing the matter rather than intelligently wielding the powers of wizardry. I had a variety of system-supported spells but all of them so far was simply an application of my understanding of science from my old world. Mana in meant things heated up. Mana out or held still meant things froze. Even my stone singing was an application of Mana and sound yet another type of energy although this time modulated by a frequency. What would be possible with an actual tutor?
“Yes, my magic.” Lady Acacia answered.
“Why haven’t you taught me any yet?” Asked Aleera sounding a little hurt that she had not yet been offered the opportunity to do more than walk smoothly, stand straight, and present herself with decorum and grace. All the hallmarks of nobility but none of the power.
“It was not yet time. It was far more important for you to complete your cascade within the first year than it was to learn some spells. Perks are for life but can only be gained by the end of the first year of allocation. The various schools of Witchcraft and Wizardry can be learned later there is no time limitation to me tutoring you in those.” She explained her rationale for her delay in teaching the more exciting elements of her curriculum.
“A variety of schools? Is there more than one type of school?” I asked, hoping to hear her answers. These were some exciting revelations.
“Yes, there is more than one school of thought and manner of using mana.” She answered happily to engage me in further conversation responding to my sudden enthusiasm in the matter. All teachers enjoy teaching those who wish to be taught. At least those with any passion left for their profession. It appeared to be the same for tutors.
“While the system and its skills may be the overarching framework for life within the compass, once you have unlocked your magic stat there are a variety of different ways in which it can be developed and utilised.”
“Such as?” Even my mother was interested in these answers. Answers she would have probably been given growing up if she hadn’t been forced to flee with Grandfather from the Kingdom of Maestro before she was even old enough to realise that she had ever even left it.
“Where to start, where to start . . .” She paused. “In the effort of being fully transparent, I am not an expert in any of the schools. I tutor children, not full-grown Word weavers, Tree singers, Glyph masons, Runesmiths, or any of the other disciplines. Neither can I tutor you in the Royal Elemental powers. However, I can, if you will let me tutor you, give you a basic understanding of Alchemy, Enchanting, Mana manipulation, Spell craft, Spell song and healing. An understanding of which at least is required for all nobles less they are taken advantage of, or put at a disadvantage at court. You will need to know what people are capable of even if you are incapable of wielding such powers. As for my magic, I am most proficient in the school of Tree Singing and would be closer to the human profession of Druid of which there are many in the kingdom of Maestro.” She answered for the first time sounding almost humble in her acknowledgement of a broad understanding of magic rather than specialised knowledge in all fields.
A druid? Lady Acacia hardly looked anything like what I would be imagining as a druid. I guessed different worlds meant different meanings to words. It was important not to get hung up on semantics. Right here in front of us was a professed wielder of magic. Someone who had what sounded like an example or two from each field of magic which she could hopefully demonstrate and teach me. It would accelerate my progress so much. I might not have wanted to become her charge for the fame or the fortune, but I was seriously considering doing it for the magic she offered.
“Can you show me some magic?” My childish exuberance was no act, I was keen to see what she could do. I was also hoping to see something a little more wonderous and wholesome than the deadly skills my Grandfather had demonstrated over the year.
She raised her hand saying “Phos” and light flared forth. A spell! I could create light. Well, I could already create light with my mana mote lanterns but that was another creature turning my mana into the light. Here was something completely different. Words alone seemed to be enough for her. Or perhaps she was verbalising a skill? Either way, it was something I wanted to learn.
“That is an example of Word Weaving, the primary magic school of humans, Spellcraft.” She explained her display. “You utilise the word to determine your intent and power it with your mana. A direct application of mana, it is one of the simplest spells I can teach you.” She flashed a simple sample of what she could do.
“What else can you do?” I quizzed.
She plucked a small stone from her pocket and started singing to it. The magic this time was slower in happening but for those of us who had mana sense, it was all the more interesting. The Mana was not coming from within her at all. Well, a little was but it seemed to be moving or drawing on the mana in the air and the mana in the stone more than from within herself. Coaxing it to flow rather than forcing it to.
The stone cracked and began to expand. It soon became clear it wasn’t a stone but a seed. It soon became a seedling sprouting up into a sapling. The sapling grew quickly in the palm of her hand. The most impressive aspect of this was the fact that the sapling was still growing. Whenever I applied my mana directly to a plant to help it grow quicker the main problem was the lack of nutrients. Somehow how her song was pulling on the mana around her rather than simply pushing her own mana into it was sustaining the sapling far longer than my attempts ever had. By now based on the amount of growth achieved my mana would have forced it to burn out and die. But hers kept growing until it was a simple sapling no longer it was quickly forming a polished staff of sung wood.
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“There is an example of Tree Singing, my speciality.” She finished her song as the staff thumped to the floor. "Rather than rely on your mana to complete the task you sing the mana of the world around us to support and power the spell, Spellsong."
We were impressed. A way to utilise internal mana I had already realised and had acknowledged by the system. A way in which to use the world's mana was something I had never even considered, attempted or achieved. We had just witnessed two schools of magic we had no access to, both offered to us on a silver platter should I accept her tuition. I was convinced but still greedy.
“What about enchantment?” I asked eyes wide.
“I can show you basic enchantments woven into cloth, runes etched in metal and glyphs carved in stone should you be interested in my tuition of course.” She smiled happily to see that I was hooked on the idea of being tutored by her. I was ready to sign up and she could tell.
But my parents were not quite yet convinced. “I don’t see why he needs to start now. When he is five is soon enough.” Father argued, he had quickly realised that the more time I spent with my new favourite tutor the less time I would spend with him sailing the sea.
“It is not just a good idea it is an essential idea. Especially if you hope to fix a problem you already have even if you have not yet noticed. My tuition of your child will be the only cost I request for helping you overcome what you have surely already started to suspect.” She argued her case from strength to strength, offering both carrots and cake as well as hinting at pitfalls she could somehow help us avoid.
“What problem?” Grandfather interrupted.
“His ageing.” Her abrupt response.
“There is nothing wrong with our child.” Mother defended me vigorously while Father asked, “What’s wrong with his ageing?”
“There is nothing wrong with your child. He is truly exceptional, but while he may have hesitated to reveal his perks earlier it is clear at least to me that he represents what the half-blood kings were hoping to create. If so, he will have the same problems they had.” She smiled alluding to a problem that required her help to fix.
“What problems?” Father asked confused.
“What do you know of elves?” she asked on a tangent that would hopefully lead us back to the topic at hand, me.
“A noble race originating from the northwest of the compass, they are long-lived . . .” He started to give a broad overview of the race before he was interrupted.
“Exactly, long-lived! The average elf lives for 1000 years if your child is anything like an elf child then you will need me or another elf to provide the same growth supplements they receive.” She began to lay out the issue and judging by my mother’s breath and grandfather’s frown they had extrapolated the hidden pitfall.
“Why? What supplements?” Father a step behind had yet to predict the problem.
“Think about it. If you let an elf grow at their natural pace from birth to death then on average it is going to take them approximately 10 years for every equivalent human year of growth.” She paused to allow him to catch up. Aleera now had followed the logic through and stood staring at me as if she could calculate what I had looked like and what I would look like in a year or a decade.
Lady Acacia continued her lecture in more specific detail for my father, “Your child, exceptional as he is, if I’m not mistaken about his unrevealed perks, will still look like a child when you are dead and buried.” She paused to let him take that in before going on to explain my growth timetable in precise detail. “It may very possibly take him 50 years for him to look like a 5-year-old. 100 years for him to look like a 10-year-old. With you lucky to gain the stats to live till he looks like he is 11 or 12. People are going to notice.” She pointed out the hidden catch to the trait long-lived.
It was true that my ageing had been a little slower than most but at the same time, my understanding had been a little quicker. It was part of the reason why we felt that I could pull off being a younger brother. However, I hadn’t realised it was going to be that bad. There was no way I was going to stay an infant for 50 years if there was an alternative.
“What supplements do they have that he needs? Could we not buy them ourselves?” Grandfather interrogated unwilling to trust the tutor to be the sole solution to our predicament.
“There are other growth elixirs it is true but they all have their own detriments they inflict on the body. Callen will need the elvish one to support his growth which I hasten to add is only made by and sold to elves. To any other race, it would be detrimental as well and therefore is not an elixir easily sourced by any race other than my own.” She highlighted the challenges we would face if we attempted to solve this conundrum without her support.
“What do you mean detrimental and why is the Elvish Elixir of Growth the only one you would recommend for Callen?” Grandfather demanded not quite yet ready to capitulate to the idea that this was the only solution.
“Well, first off, humanity as a whole does not have this problem so has no solution or at least not one that would not require a complete and exhaustive explanation of your current situation. Once you feel you are far too weak to afford.” She pointed out the fact that most human babies did not have my constitution. It would seem that neither did the nobles.
“Second, it has to be an elixir that allows an elvish infant to achieve quick physical growth to match their mind but it also needs to be an elixir derived from something that lives for a very long time to balance this out less it cut years off the length of our lives. Can you not think of something that Elves might be able to derive an elixir of growth from? What do we harbour, protect and support within our forests?”
“Trees?” guessed father not afraid to have a stab at an answer.
“Yes, and?”
We on the other hand hesitated to guess incorrectly.
“The noble race of elves living in the light of the Lodestar have the long-lived trait, the base race of trolls living under the dark of the Lodestone have the regeneration trait. What other race hails from the northwest of the compass continent and what trait do they hold?”
Grandfather finally jumped in with the answer we were all waiting for, “The neutral race of the dryads living in the twilight between star and stone have the trait, shapeshift. Moreover, as long as their tree is safe are functionally immortal.”
“Exactly it takes parts of all three races to create the Elvish Elixir for growth that will allow Callen to grow at the same pace as a normal human without risking hypothetical and experimental human efforts at an elixir. Without me how do you hope to come across an elf, a troll and a dryad, let alone be able to attempt to create an elixir?”
“How much would it cost?” Grandfather asked defensively.
“It would be free on the condition that you will allow me to tutor the boy.” Her offer left my family speechless, particularly after the earlier position where she argued over every percentage of our profit she desired as payment for her services. It felt as if we were missing something here but what I couldn’t guess.
Lady Acacia seemed to realise she had led us to an impasse and satisfied in gaining our confidence or confession left us with one final statement, “I’m sure we all have a lot to consider. Either way, I am not going anywhere, will continue to tutor Aleera and await your decision regarding Callen at your earliest convenience.” She left the room leaving us once more with a lot of revelations to discuss but also only leaving us one true solution as far as I could see.
. . .