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Soul Singularity
Prologue part II: Assault and Battery

Prologue part II: Assault and Battery

Here's the partner to my first part.  Feedback greatly appreciated, as always!

Prologue Part II: Assault and Battery

Four years passed in that wretched backwater, boring me to no end.  It wasn't really an unusually horrible life, as such; my parents didn't seem to want to pile too much work on me, although I was taught basic, intermediate, and advanced cooking.  I didn't have to do any of the stereotypical things such as terribly difficult manual labor or the like.  Father had... things... more appropriate for those tasks perform them.

My mother seemed to be concerned about me seeming to be growing up as a wilting, spineless flower obeying father's every word, but I wasn't particularly worried.  If a personality is formed by the memories and experiences of an individual, than it would be quite difficult for any abuse I suffered in this life to scar me, no matter how much acting I did.  ...I think.  Of course, that didn't mean I wasn't free to hate or love individuals as normal, but it felt rather odd to barely ever change overall.

My mother, Anastasia (dad called her “Anna”) seemed to have been the daughter of the leader of a major clan prior to being captured by father; I wasn't quite sure if that made me a princess or not, but guessed “not”.  There was no possible way they would let her stay imprisoned for ten years if she was such an important figure.  ...Unless they'd been destroyed and disbanded, I suppose.  We didn't really receive any news from outside, and were only ever permitted to travel about 50 yards from the house.  We weren't even allowed to go up to the oversized walls around the estate.  Were it not for the sound of thousands of adorable critters outside, it would be difficult to determine we were in the middle of a forest.

Mom didn't dare try to teach me magic, but from observation, it was quite easy to figure out that she was a skilled light-healer.  She was by no means the best I'd seen at her age, but her abilities were still impressive for someone who'd only been learning until, at most, the age of 19.

I debated trying to teach her some combative magics, but decided against it; they required too much practice to use effectively, and light tends to leave signs of use on nearby furniture and the like.  Not to mention that my element differed from hers, so if she got stuck on the base concepts, I wouldn't be able to help her at all.

I wasn't really ever told anything about Alexander, my father, but it didn't take a whole lot to figure out.  He isn't any sort of royalty, I think, but he is definitely quite wealthy.  He seemed to be important enough that merchants would come to him to try to negotiate deals, and he seemed to refuse as often as he accepted.  So, he was probably in a position where he was able to lock out anyone he didn't particularly care for- something I had heard occur quite often.  Oddly enough, since I'd properly moved into this form, it didn't seem like he had 'visited' mother in the middle of the night at all.  I wasn't sure what reason he had to not sell both her and myself by now; perhaps because of mom's cooking and healing abilities?  

Back on topic, dad didn't really have any outstanding features worth mentioning.  He was an amoral piece of scum, but I think that comes with treating other people as property.  He had a keen and ruthless business sense and seemed to know the best ways to make as much money as possible from a given project, including giving terrible wages but offering significant improvements based on work quality.  Finally, he was a fire mage, but I wasn't sure how skilled he was... which happened to be most of the reason I didn't simply escape as soon as I recovered my memories.  

...And then there was the annoying human brat, Nero.  The son of one of my father's now-deceased business partners, he arrived about two years ago and started living with us- father most notably did not treat him like his own child and actually treated him quite well.  Perhaps I should say father treated Nero like he should have treated me.

We were the same age, and I was hoping I'd actually have an ally in this whole mess- not to mention that he looked like he would grow up to be quite handsome later on, so I wouldn't have any objection to being childhood friends with him.  Unfortunately, the moment Nero first saw me, I knew he was trouble; he was playing around with an orb of fire as if it was nothing, and the look he gave me after his initial surprise faded was one that I usually don't get until I'm twice my current age.  

I initially dismissed it as excessive paranoia since it was my first time properly meeting someone who wasn't related to me in this world, but as the weeks went by, I kept catching him staring at me with the same look.  To make things worse, whenever he tried to start up a discussion with me, it was always by complimenting some part of my appearance.  On several occasions, I'd even spotted him sneaking toward the room mother and I shared.  ...I wasn't sure where genetics had gone wrong with that horrible little boy, but he was undeniably a pervert.

...That covers all of the sentient beings in the house.  There were a total of 7 guards, but when I accidentally bumped into one of them while trying to hide from my father, I encountered only solid metal instead of flesh.  They were constructs, probably made by a skilled creation mage.  They weren't actually people, as such, simply man-shaped lumps of steel animated by several hundred eternally-refreshing commands.

As far as my overall education went, I was only taught basic math.  Any history or geography I learned was only due to the stories my mother told me- and, annoyingly enough, I didn't even know how to read, a flaw I planned on fixing as soon as possible.

On my 8th birthday, I decided to make my move; this nonsense had gone on for long enough, and my stashes of supplies, as well as my other preparations, were complete.  What was the point of getting to live in so many different worlds if I didn't take full advantage of it?

So, while we were alone in the kitchen, cooking a dinner of venison stew, I glanced over at Anastasia.  She was probably the youngest of my parents so far, only being a bit under 28 years old.  In a very real sense, I would be able to take care of us better than she would after we escaped.  ...Probably.  Being unable to read was a major handicap.

“Mama?” I asked in the song-like voice of an elven child, then hesitated and stopped.  Beneath my innocent appearance, I was actually terrified; I was confident that if I failed, both me and my mom would be punished.  It probably wouldn't be so bad if I caused enough damage that it would be clear she wouldn't be able to teach me that much, but...

...If I did that, even if we did escape, I didn't want to be labeled a murderer or demon by my own mother.  That... would hurt.  ...I'm worrying too much.  I've wasted too much valuable time in his wretched place; I'm- no, we're- overdue for a change of scenery.

Taking a deep breath, I spoke in a rush.  “I have a surprise I need to finish for momma, so I'm going to be late to bed tonight, okay?  Please don't go to sleep without me...”

Anastasia blinked, rather surprised; this was the only time I'd ever spoken on my own outside of lessons.  It didn't take long for her expression to turn into one of worry, however.  “I'm not so sure that's a good idea; if your father spots you wandering around on your own, he might...” she hesitated.  “...Misunderstand.”

Actually, I suspect he's going to understand perfectly, if he survives the first attack. I barely managed to suppress a malicious cackle before continuing again.  “Don't worry mom, he won't mistake what I'm doing for something else.  Is it okay if I start working as soon as dinner is done?”

Although I wasn't looking at her, focusing on peeling a potato, I abruptly felt my mother glaring at the space between my shoulders.  She knew her precious little girl was up to something, despite the fact that I'd been a perfect little angel ever since my 4th birthday.  Note to self: Mother is smarter than I gave her credit for.

“What, exactly, is the 'surprise'?” she asked sharply, and I could tell she was quite concerned.  “Honey, your behavior is all-but screaming that you're up to something.  You've never hidden anything from me before; unless it's something I'll object to, why start now?”

...MUCH smarter...  Dropping my knife and potato onto the counter, I turned around and gave her my best angel impression.  “Mommy, if I tell you, it won't be a surprise anymore!”

Attempt status: complete failure.  Anna crossed her arms and glared sternly at me; I winced, realizing what was coming.  “Elysia, you are going to tell me exactly what you have planned right this instant unless you wish to be grounded for the next month.  You're an honest girl, and the fact that you're trying to hide what you're up to means that it's going to be something I'll disapprove of; it is my duty as a parent to keep you out of trouble, but I can't keep you safe if you don't tell me what's wrong.  Is that understood?”

This just isn't fair; my act was perfect!  I wailed inside the safety of my mind, avoiding the urge to cave in.  I guiltily avoided her gaze and stared at the floor; regardless of how old you were mentally, it was never fun to argue with a parent.  “It will make mommy very, very happy, so don't ask Elysia what the surprise is.  It won't take Elysia more than a couple minutes to finish.”

Once again, I felt her eyes bore into the top of my head; I wasn't sure, but I suspected she'd figured out I only used the third person when I was trying to act as cute and childlike as possible.

“...Fine.” My mother said, and I could tell that, despite her stern tone, she was scared I was going to do something stupid.  “You're allowed to stay up for 30 minutes past your bedtime; if you don't come back and show me your surprise by then...” she left the rest to my active imagination.  “But that's for later; right now, we're behind schedule.”

I hastily turned around and got back to work, not wanting her to see my expression of relief.  I still let a little sigh escape, though, which did not go unnoticed.

...Yeah, she knows I'm up to something.

After dinner, I took my secret stash of supplies, along with a large frying pan, and headed to one of the coldest parts of the house: the abandoned cell I'd been thrown in four years ago.  Now, it had been re-purposed, and the contents inside... well, one of these things is not like the other.  One of the corners of the room had a large cube of snow just lying around, completely ignoring the fact that it was the middle of summer.

I walked up to it, crouching down, and took a small leather box out of my pack of supplies.  Beneath the top layer were rows of my favorite weapon: thin, but sharp, needles made out of solid ice.  Careful not to have the tips come into contact with my skin, I slowly brushed aside the snow, extracted each one, and put them in the box.  There were a total of 64 needles in storage, just enough to deal with any threats that came along.  They were fragile, and would break after only one use, but they were perfect nonetheless.

Once I was finished extracting them, I packed down some of the snow before thrusting my hand inside and formed a layer of ice over the surface of my left hand, shaping it into the form of an absurdly-sharp set of claws.  I wasted a valuable minute altering it's properties it so that it'd be able to withstand whatever task I demanded of it, including slicing through some of the softer metals.  

Eventually, that was done and over with, and I promptly used the claws to slice through the collar around my neck, catching it and dropping it into my bag of supplies.  It would be unnecessary weight at first, but I was certain it would be able to be sold for a large amount of money; I wasn't sure which idiot in this world had thought of making some collars out of gold for decoration, but their loss was my gain.  

I swung the pack onto my back and put my arms through the straps before attaching a waterskin to both sides of my waist, detesting the extra weight but acknowledging it as necessary.

Carrying an oversized frying pan in one hand and wearing one of the deadliest weapons in my arsenal in the other, I got to work, sneaking outside and towards the room of my father.  It's been far too long since I got to do this sort of thing... not that I'm complaining.

-----{POV: Nero}-----

My name is Nero, surname currently Alston, and I have died four times, currently putting me in my fifth lifetime.  In my first and second lives, I was, to put it kindly, one of the worst scumbags who has ever walked through any reality.

Nowadays, I'm a fire mage specializing in forcefully cleansing humanoid bodies of disease... and, unfortunately, much of their immune system.  During my 4th life, I was responsible for the total annihilation of two deadly diseases, eight inconvenient ones, and one magic-fueled virus which turned it's victims into shambling abominations.  Unfortunately, eliminating the last during my 4th lifetime cost me my life- not unexpected, considering the original spell that made them was cataclysm-class- so here I am, starting all over.  Again.

I shall not recount the events that transpired in my first and second lives; suffice to say that I was practically a different person then and leave it at that.

During my 3rd life, the Gatekeeper, being the one in charge of where my soul went, decided to take a rather heavy hand in correcting my behavior.  To be accurate, he made my next reincarnation be a seraph.  That was quite an... educational experience, and by the time I died fighting a horde of devils, I had been firmly and forcefully re-educated.  After that, the Gatekeeper and I got along much better, and he elected to have me be the son of a grandmaster healer in my next life.

Having reached master rank in using combative magics during my time as a seraph, I was grateful for the opportunity to learn how to use my gift for something other than murder; within 30 years, I'd absorbed everything my father in that life had to teach me, and even had enough control to eliminate deeply-rooted diseases with a minimum of damage to the patient.

So why, I brooded darkly, am I stuck being the adopted son of someone who reminds me entirely too much of my old self?  

I had been able to mostly convince Alexander to mostly leave Anna and Elysia alone when I'd first met him almost four years ago, traveling with my father.  To my great amusement, all it had taken was a good, healthy bit of blackmail sent via letter; to this day, he has no idea who sent it.

Back on topic.  In an attempt to avoid one of Alexander's lessons on magic that I'd already long-since learned, I was sneaking through the house, heading for the kitchen.  We had just eaten dinner, but it had been months since I'd tasted something sweet and I wanted to remedy this.

Which is why I was able to spot Elysia creeping through the house in the middle of the night, lugging around what appeared to be enough supplies to last her a few weeks.  

It didn't take much brainpower to figure out that she was trying to escape- surprising, since she'd seemed so obedient before- but I didn't much mind.  I would be willing to admit that I have a minor crush on Elysia, but although she's perfect for me in terms of appearance, she isn't really my type personality-wise.  I doubted the decade until she grew up would change things any, either; I preferred someone who would actually be my equal instead of a brainless, spineless maiden, so I didn't particularly care if she left.

Mentally going over all her flaws, I didn't notice the orb of water directed at my skull until it was nearly too late; I was barely able to raise one arm and deflect the majority of her attack, although it still broke apart and temporarily blinded me; forcing my eyes to remain open despite the film of water, I was able to spot Elysia crossing the distance between us with distressing speed, swiping an empty hand for my throat.

The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

I was impressed that she had learned how to use magic, and even more impressed by her ability to keep it a secret, but...

Oi, oi, what did I do to deserve this?  I even made sure your dad wouldn't bully you anymore!

Rubbing water out of my eyes, I reflexively started to deflect her weak attack with my arm, but in the relative darkness of the corridor, I barely managed to spot the shiny presence of ice coating her hand.  Abruptly experiencing a sense of impending doom, I dodged slightly downward, managing to avoid the majority of the attack.

Still, it still managed to hit, causing the length of my arm to explode in pain.  What was more, it didn't seem to encounter any resistance on the way, slicing across the flesh of my arm as if it was paper.  Had I not had reflexes built from several lifetimes of fighting, I would have just lost a limb.

SWEET MOTHER OF GOD, WHAT THE HELL!?  What is that thing!?

My mental scream of panic was repeated as I was, once again, forced to dodge.  Elysia's claw sliced through the spot where I'd been milliseconds before, slicing the front of my shirt to ribbons and scaring the daylights out of me.  Speaking in a panic, I elected to activate a stronger spell than any child his age had any business using, summoning blue flames in both hands.

“F-SEmenation-ES-EO-IL-IM-R8-D100-Bla6-AN!” I said in a rush, desperate to form some sort of barrier between myself and the homicidal snow-woman.  Once the activation finished, flames instantly spread out to form a barrier around my body.  I disliked using a spell that expended that much energy, but it was significantly less than I would lose access to if I died this early.

Safe... I guess it really is always the quiet ones. Sighing in relief as I foolishly considered myself protected from whatever the terrifying genius attempted, as well as eliminating the annoying vapor covering my eyes, I relaxed.  Regardless of the form she flung it in, any water entering the flames would evaporate long before it hit me, and she would sustain serious burns if she tried to punch through it.  But seriously, what the hell?  Where on earth did-

I did not expect the frying pan to promptly descend upon my skull, knocking me unconscious.  Apparently, there was a quite good reason she was lugging around such a massive object.

For both of the combatants, the idea that the other could be another wandering soul never crossed their minds.  They each thought they were a unique existence, especially since the Gatekeeper had outright said as such.  He didn't want his best entertainment to be spoiled.

-----{POV: Elysia}-----

Jumping back hastily from the azure flames attempting to consume my flesh, I stared at Nero's unconscious body.  That... was quite unexpected.  I didn't think there was anyone in the house capable of using a blaze-class spell, let alone one with an abbreviated incantation.  Normally, it should have taken him another 15-40 years of studying for him to reach that level.

Stricken with an ugly thought, I frowned.  If Nero was this bad, how powerful is my father?  ...Hopefully his talents are due to an elemental deciding to teach him in secret, although the odds of that are abnormally low...

Determining that, although it was effective against an inexperienced opponent, my improvised weapon wouldn't be effective, I discarded it to the side and drew my favorite weapons, carefully fitting twelve needles between my fingers before continuing.  Each one was only 0.77 millimeters thick, but if I launched them at something with enough force and the right amount of reinforcement, they'd keep traveling for at least a second.

Unfortunately, barely ten seconds after I'd finished my preparations, I had the bad luck to run across one of the constructs guarding the house.  It looked blankly at me, turned to stare at the unconscious Nero, and moved to draw it's weapon.

I hastily tore open one of my waterskins, directed the water from it to go straight up, and dodged backward.  When the water came back down and inevitably soaked a significant amount of the charging construct's body, I froze all of the water on it's head...

...And promptly ran away, hoping that it had the cumbersome emergency command chains of an average construct.  My specialty is living targets, thank you very much.  

Sure enough, even after it had finished freeing itself from the ice, it didn't try to go after me despite the ice not being thick enough to completely eliminate it's hearing.  Whatever mage had created its contingency planning had done a lazy job of creating command chains, as it appeared to completely reset and go back to patrolling once it had finished breaking off all my ice.

Sighing with relief, I turned to try to figure out how far I'd thoughtlessly fled in the dark, and was surprised to find myself only a few feet away from the door to my father's room, an area I had expected to reach several minutes ago.  I cautiously tried the knob to find it was unlocked, and crept inside, spotting my father sitting at his desk and reviewing his finances.

There are a great many points in the bodies of all animals which, when struck, devastated or completely eliminated the use of a certain area of the body.  Although my sixth life was, for the most part, wasted, I did have the opportunity to learn about the reason why aiming at said points would disable someone and was able to adjust my aim accordingly.

This time, on the other hand, I didn't even bother with such careful and methodical tactics.  I threw four needles from behind him and directed another sixteen to leave the pouch, effectively surrounding the area around his head with them.  Before father had time to notice the floating hemisphere surrounding his head, I expended a significant portion of my power to temporarily strengthen my weapons, then accelerated them to 35 meters/second, aiming for the thinnest areas of his skull.

I needn't have worried so much; in an especially anticlimactic display of weakness, dad was killed instantly as twenty needles pierced his brain before shattering, not even having time to so much as scream.  I stared at his corpse for about half a minute before shutting the door to his room behind myself, carefully walking over a trash bin, and promptly lost my supper.

I thought I'd be ready for it by now- most mages are forced to kill someone at least once during their lifetime, but I had always been skilled or powerful enough that I wasn't so constrained.  Broken bones, certainly.  Temporarily horribly crippled, sure.  Frozen solid and requiring the assistance of others to get free safely, by all means.  This was the first time I'd had to make sure that nobody ever had the chance to come after me again, and I have to say, I was not pleased.  Sure, my father was a total scumbag, but-

I abruptly heard a loud, commanding voice speak from what seemed to be just behind my head.   I could vaguely recognize it as belonging to Gate, but, well... it sounded much deeper than normal.  And he sounded like a jerk; I knew him better than that, but still, he was being rather harsh.

“Enough of this nonsense.  The soul of Alexander William Torthal has been delivered to me and has been judged.  Your current father is headed for Hades- that very fact should tell you that you have nothing to feel bad about.  Now quit your wretched bawling and get back to escaping; your mother is going to start looking for you in three minutes, and the path of a construct will overlap with hers in eight.”

“...Okay, now I have to ask.” I said aloud, extraordinarily creeped out. “Are you always spying on me?”

“Don't be ridiculous, I have countless souls to guide and don't have time for such trivialities.  I only checked up on you since this was the first time you've sent anyone my way, despite the fact that I'm certain a great many people deserved it.  Although Alexander was a perfect example of when it is necessary, try not to make a habit of this.

I jerkily nodded, quickly cleansed my mouth with a bit of spare water, and got to work on a very, very serious task: stealing all the lightweight valuables I could find.  I still felt terrible, but... I could weep later.  There was work to be done.

------

Back in his own, private reality, Iuvenalis Gate Maxwell, also known as the Gatekeeper, sat back and burst out laughing.  

Insufficient time to spy on her... I'll have to remember that lie.  It's amazing how ignorant mortals can be.

There were over four hundred realities, excluding his own, and Gate had to judge and guide every intelligent being that ever died in any of them.  If he'd had to obey the laws of time like everyone else, he'd never be able to handle the workload.  He was theoretically capable of performing an infinite number of tasks at once, which meant that, yes, he was spying on Elysia “all the time”.  And Nero.  And eleven other individuals he found particularly interesting, which, thanks to a healthy bit of meddling, four of whom were currently occupying the same reality.

He did have enough common decency to stop whenever one of them required privacy, but those he spied upon were definitely entitled to a restraining order by now.

------

Rushing back to my room, I spotted mother stalking toward me, appearing quite angry- on the surface.  Beneath that, I could tell she had been quite worried about me.  She was terrible at concealing her feelings; her eyes always gave her away, something I was about to take full advantage of.

“Mom, I finished up all the stuff I needed for my surprise!  Could you please crouch down for a moment?”

She appeared slightly surprised, but complied; she still tried to speak.  “You're past curfew; what were you up to that would-”

I reached over and carefully cut Anastasia's collar off as well, interrupting her mid-sentence as she tried to figure out what I was doing.  Immediately thereafter, I converted my claw back into normal water and grabbed both of mom's hands.

“Okay, mommy!  Let's go~ daddy won't be bothering us again.  We still have to avoid his guards, though; I'm not good enough to deal with them yet.  Stupid oversized chunks of metal, they're cheating.”

She stared for several moments before opening her mouth and trying to speak; only a tiny squeaking noise was produced, however.

“Please calm down, mommy!  I need you to come with- oh, oopsie.  Almost forgot.”

I darted a few dozen feet back, grabbed my bag of loot, and handed it to Anna.  “Please carry this, it's a bit too heavy for me.”

She took it and allowed me to drag her out the nearest window, heading outside.  When we reached the wall surrounding the estate, I realized there was a rather major flaw in my plan: any claws I made could slice through thin sheets metal, such as a dagger or some kinds of armor, but I didn't quite plan for what appeared to be at least ten feet of solid stone.  It looked thinner from a distance...

Mentally sighing as I concocted a truly idiotic plan, I turned to my mother.  “Mommy, I am very, very sorry, and hope you're not afraid of heights.  Please don't worry, this is perfectly safe.” I lied through my teeth.

Before she could figure out what, exactly, I was talking about, I expended nearly the entirety of my remaining reserves to do the most reckless thing I've ever done in any life: forming a thick layer of ice over most of both my mother and I and then promptly using said ice fling us over the wall.  I nearly snapped my own neck in the process due to a miscalculation, but it was totally worth it.

Just prior to our landing, I decelerated us before we turned into stains on the ground and turned the ice on our bodies back to normal water; I may be able to keep trudging comfortably along for days at a time with it on me, but I doubted Anastasia possessed my level of resistance.

Feeling incredibly nervous, I looked up and smiled brightly at my mother, electing to temporarily switch to the third person.  Anastasia seemed to be in a state of shock, and I didn't want her looking at me like I was a monster; sounding as childish as possible would be vital right about now.

“Did Elysia made momma happy?  Elysia practiced lots with her friends!” ...Another lie.  I should try to avoid telling any more from now on...

Anastasia jumped, a big pile of nerves thanks to the abrupt flight, and stared at me for an uncomfortably long time.  Eventually, she smiled, tears forming in her eyes, and bent down to hug me.

“Life is going to be hard and involve lots of walking for a while, but you're a strong girl; I'm confident you can make it.  But... yes.  You have made mommy very, very happy.”

...All in all, it was a very satisfactory day.

{Supplementary Information: Introduction to Magic}

While not strictly required for reading the story, I thought some people might want to have a better explanation of how magic works in SS.  So, here it is; if anyone has any questions or confusion they'd like me to clear up, I'm fine with providing more information, either in future chapters or comments.

Magic is the method through which a sentient individual can utilize the excess energy produced by their soul in order to modify the world around themselves.  With the exception of creation mages and those lucky enough for their soul to produce more than one kind of power, every magician is limited to creating and controlling only one element.  They are unable to control powers that fall outside their own domain, unless it is via indirect manipulation- an air or earth mage can quite easily use their powers to feed a fire and make it grow stronger, for example.

At the basic level, drawing a magic sigil (or glyph, if you prefer) is necessary for a mage to impose their will on the world around themselves.  A sigil is an immobile command which can be used to cast magic without having to figure out the specifics- for example, “Shoot a small ball of fire at the closest person in front of me.”  It requires more power, but significantly less skill, than the use of an incantation.

Although it is the most basic method of using magic, sigils are also utilized by those casting the most advanced magics known to sentient life.  When used for that purpose, they're used for absurdly long lists of commands or powerful spells, where a single slip of the tongue can cause the annihilation of the caster and all those nearby instead of the enemy.  No individual in any reality has properly cast a cataclysm-class spell, spells capable of wiping out all life in a massive area, without the use of a sigil.

The intermediate method of casting magic is by listing off specific commands verbally, known as an incantation (or, again, chant if you prefer).  While it can be abbreviated, so long as the caster accurately knows what they mean with each word, this can quite easily lead to tiny, but deadly, slips in pronunciation, such as mixing up “E” and “T”.

The incantation used by Nero in this chapter, “F-SEmenation-ES-EO-IL-IM-R8-D100-Bla6-AN”, reads as follows: “Fire, aura emanating from self, exclude self, exclude objects, include life, include magic, radius 8 inches, duration 100 seconds, 6th-level blaze-class, activate now.”  

...If anyone is wondering, every type of magic has 7 scales of power, with 10 levels within each category.  For fire, it goes in order of spark, ember, flame, blaze, inferno, conflagration, and cataclysm.

Finally, the most advanced method of casting is by listing off the entire command chain of a spell within the privacy of ones own mind.  While this can be more useful, as a spell is quite literally cast at the speed of thought and any enemies have no hope of predicting what spell you're in the process of casting, this method requires an almost-inhuman level of concentration and practice.  To show exactly how difficult this can be, try singing the entire English alphabet inside your head while not thinking of a purple elephant.