Rygic closed his hand tightly around the mana crystal. Almost immediately after Sage Endo warned the group that they may experience a slight burning sensation, his hand began to feel like it was on fire. His fingers trembled with the effort of holding on to it. Every time he was tempted to drop it, her instructions against doing so rang clearly in his mind. Just as he felt he couldn’t endure any longer, he closed his eyes tightly as if he were trying to shut the pain out. Much to his relief, the searing pain immediately vanished. Hesitantly, he opened his eyes and looked down at his hand. It seemed the crystal had disappeared along with the agony. Looking around, he quickly realized he was back in the same room where he met Kelis.
“Hello... Kelis?” he called out.
Almost immediately, there came a soft knock on the room’s only door. Before Rygic could answer, the door began to open slowly. “Rygic, good to see you again,” Kelis greeted as he stepped inside.
“Likewise,” replied Rygic. “Oh, before I forget, Skoshi asked that I relay his greetings.”
“Did he? It is not often I hear from those that have moved on. Please, let him know that I wish him well and have not forgotten him. Now, if you would follow me, we are only going a short distance away,” instructed Kelis.
Leaving the room, Rygic found himself in a long-marbled hallway. The floor beneath his feet was made of polished stone, so smooth and reflective that he could see himself on its surface.
Torches ran along the walls in gold-trimmed sconces, casting a warm, golden glow that illuminated the hallway and provided ample light for him to see his way. Many intricately carved wooden doors lined the hallway to rooms Rygic suspected were for the other testers. When he failed to see them emerging, he stopped and asked Kelis, “Those doors, do they lead to rooms with other testers?”
Kelis stopped and turned to face Rygic, “Yes,” he cryptically answered.
“Where are they? Have they already left?” Rygic nervously asked in a concerned voice.
Seeing that Rygic was growing anxious, Kelis patiently explained, “Right now, your physical body is still on Terra. What you are experiencing is your consciousness projected here, the spirit realm. Because of this, you are unable to see the others.”
“I guess that makes sense,” replied Rygic. “Thank you for answering.”
“Of course,” responded Kelis. “I am afraid any other questions will have to be answered as we move forward. Your time here grows short.” Before Rygic could ask why, Kelis quickly added, “The longer your consciousness is away from your body, the greater the risk to your physical body.” He then turned and resumed walking down the hall. Rygic quickly followed behind.
They continued on their way until they approached the end of the corridor where Rygic’s eyes were drawn to a massive metal door that dominated the wall in front of him. Its surface was inlaid with golden runes that glimmered in the flickering torchlight. Kelis pushed the doors open as if they were weightless, then gestured for Rygic to enter. “This is where I must take my leave. Seiran and the others are waiting for you in the next room.”
“Thank you, Kelis,” said Rygic. Others? He wondered who the others were. Kelis mentioned Seiran, who he remembered from Skoshi’s memory gem. It would make sense since that is how one gains their affinity. He wanted to ask more questions, but the warning of staying too long in the Spirit Realm was still fresh in his mind.
Kelis smiled sincerely and gave a slight nod of his head. He then gestured with his hand towards the door once more. Walking through, Rygic was struck by the sheer size and openness of the room. The high vaulted ceilings seemed to stretch up into the heavens. The atmosphere here was different; sacred and reverent. At the front of the room stood an elf, clad in the same shimmering blue robes that Kelis wore. Unlike Kelis, this spirit chose to wear his blonde hair very short. Piercing blue glowing eyes stared back at Rygic as if studying him.
“Greetings Rygic, I am Seiran. It is always a pleasure to see an Elf in this hall,” his voice quietly echoed throughout the massive space.
“Thank you Seiran,” Rygic meekly replied. He felt quite humbled. In front of him was the leader of all the Seirandal.
“Today, you’ll find which school of magic you have an affinity for and who among us might sponsor you,” stated Seiran.
“What must I do for the affinity test?” inquired Rygic.
“It’s quite easy. Those spirits who wish to be your patron will appear before you. Choose the magic that most appeals to you,” explained Seiran.
“That’s it?” asked Rygic whose tone implied he wondered if there was a catch.
“That’s it,” Seiran answered back. “Before you do, let me teach you your first spell. It is called Status.” With a calm and steady demeanor, Seiran approached Rygic, moving with such fluidity and grace that it was as if he was gliding toward him rather than walking. With his index finger, he lightly touched Rygic’s forehead before lowering his hand and taking a few steps back. “Now, in your mind’s eye, picture a spell book. It doesn’t matter what the book looks like as long as it resembles what you envision a spell book to be. Some find it helpful to close their eyes.”
Taking Seiran’s advice, Rygic closed his eyes and tried to visualize a spell book. A worn, dark leatherbound book formed in his mind. “I can see a book,” related Rygic who still held his eyes closed.
“Good. Now open the book. The first page you see should be one detailing the spell Status,” instructed Seiran.
Rygic mentally flipped open the book. Just as Seiran said, the first page was a detailed overview of the spell and how to cast it. “Now what?” inquired Rygic.
“Read the incantation. By doing so, you should be able to cast it. Some find uttering the words out loud to be helpful, though I recommend more of a low whisper so that others simply hear a quiet muttering of words. After all, you don’t want your enemies to know what you are about to cast, right?” Seiran patiently counseled.
Following Seiran’s directions, Rygic whispered the words Santae. Almost immediately the spell book was replaced with a piece of parchment. On it, Rygic could see a portrait of himself along with a list of attributes and corresponding numbers to the right. Above his portrait were his name and current power ranking of level one. At the bottom of the parchment, was a section marked traits. Listed under traits was something called “Gift to the Elves” which allowed Elves a greater choice of magic affinities.
Rygic was fully engrossed in reading the parchment. How long he had done so, he wasn’t sure. It was long enough for Seiran to interrupt by saying, “Forgive me, but time presses.”
As Rygic opened his eyes, he noticed that Seiran was no longer alone. Other beings with the same glowing blue eyes as Kelis stood with him. Rygic suspected they were spirits representing different types of magic.
“Allow me to introduce you to the other Greater Spirits of Magic. Afterwards, you’ll have to decide on which appeals to you the most, before returning to Terra,” revealed Seiran. “I will start with the Spirits who have the most followers to those that have the least. To my far left is Nena, Spirit of Fire Magic.”
Rygic looked where he was prompted and saw a spirit resembling a gnome. She stood at a mere three feet tall, and her hair was a messy bundle of deep red tresses. She was garbed in intricate robes woven from shimmering threads of molten gold, decorated with gemstones that looked like glowing embers as they reflected the light from the room. There was an undeniable spark of fiery energy that danced within her gaze as she intently observed Rygic. Nena opened her mouth to speak and dark smoke escaped from her parted lips. “This… is the power of fire.” With an eruption of intense energy, every inch of her being was ablaze with flickering flames. The once-balanced atmosphere now felt tangibly heavy as the temperature rose to an uncomfortable level. Rygic winced, acutely aware of the raw power before him. Nena’s hair was now blazing like an inferno atop her head, free and flowing. She took a few steps forward to approach Rygic. As she did, sparks of fire trailed behind her, leaving a faint path of glowing embers in her wake. It was as if she were fire itself. Her presence radiated with an intensity that belied her small stature. “By agreeing to accept me as your Patron, you’ll wield the power to tame fire and bend it to your will,” promised Nena. She then bowed and took a few steps back. With that, the flames died, the smoke dissipated, and she returned to her previous state along with the temperature of the room, much to Rygic’s relief.
“Next to her is Mul, Spirit of Water Magic,” informed Seiran.
This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.
Rygic’s attention was brought to a spirit who looked to be a human man, possibly in his forties, with a striking mane of long silver hair that ran down his back, meticulously combed and partially tied. Clad in robes of aqua and navy, he exuded an air of tranquility. “This is the power of water,” Mul said with a calm demeanor. He gently shifted his hands to his chest, forming a shape that resembled a triangle, reminiscent of a delicate teardrop. A faint sound of running water filled the air, growing steadily in intensity. Without warning, torrents of water surged forth from the space within the mage's hands, rushing forward with breathtaking speed. Instinctively, Rygic flinched, shielding his face from the impending flood, but just before the water could make contact, it abruptly lifted, defying gravity and retreating to its master. It began to flow in a circling manner around Mul to create a swirling enclosure and in no time, he was entirely submerged. “With me as your Patron, you’ll be able to control all forms of water,” his voice resonated from within the sphere, “Not only can you do damage but also heal as my form of magic can do both,” cited Mul. He then bowed, with the water vanishing as he did so.
Seiran indicated to the next spirit, “Jayna, Spirit of Air Magic.”
An equally tall human with dark brown hair stepped forward. She was garbed in muted grey and shimmering silver robes that resembled the sky on an overcast day. Without a moment's hesitation, she breathed out the words, her voice a gentle whisper carried by the wind itself. "Behold the power of air." Immediately, a ferocious gust of wind surged forth, enveloping Jayna in a swirling hurricane. Her hair, once neatly falling past her shoulders, now danced in every direction. Her silvery-grey robes billowed and fluttered around her, caught in the turbulent current, yet she remained resolute and unwavering amidst the chaos. Rygic noticed that he along with the rest of those in the room were untouched. Jayna began to lift off the ground and with the wind beneath her feet, she glided towards Rygic effortlessly, all the while keeping the wild air flow from touching him. Her voice carried through the chaotic wind, reaching Rygic's ears with clarity. “The very winds would be at your command should you follow me. And if speed is what your heart desires, look no further than the Spirit of the Air as your Patron.” In an instant, she returned to her starting position alongside the other spirits. Just as swiftly as her demonstration began, it ended, as did the wind.
“On my right, is Dowa, Spirit of Earth Magic,” announced Seiran.
A spirit resembling a very burly dwarf with a long auburn beard stepped forward. Unlike the others, this spirit seemed to wear armor under his brown and tan robes. “Nothing is stronger than the very earth,” Dowa boasted with a gruff and gravelly voice. He roared with laughter as he lifted his hand to the air. In response, a towering monolith of stone erupted from the ground, rising high above the dwarf's head. With a resounding stomp that reverberated through the chamber, a substantial chunk of rock surged upwards, responding to his call. He effortlessly caught its weight in his hands, snatching the boulder from mid-air. A hearty chuckle escaped Dowa's lips as he playfully eyed Rygic, and without hesitation, he launched the boulder toward him with astounding force. Rygic’s eyes widened in disbelief as the boulder hurtled through the air, closing the distance in an instant. Yet, before he could even react, a formidable shield of solid stone materialized between him and the impending projectile. The boulder smashed against the unyielding barrier with a thunderous impact as Rygic jumped in astonishment, the crash ringing through his ears. At Dowa’s command, the wall crumbled before Rygic and the earth returned to the mage. Dowa grinned at Rygic. “With me, erecting walls of solid earth or hurling giant boulders at your enemies would easily be within reach,” he proclaimed, his voice brimming with pride and certainty. Dowa then took a few steps back and pounded a fist to his chest with a nod.
“Next to Dowa is Alavan, Spirit of Life Magic,” stated Seiran.
Alavan stepped forward and Rygic brought his attention to the man before him who was clothed in pristine white robes. With a soft smile and a gentle gaze, the man began to glow. His aura cast a comforting, ethereal shine, enveloping the surrounding area in a welcoming warmth. His blonde hair that ran past his shoulders began to shift to white and each strand shimmered like threads of light. He held his arms down near his sides with his palms facing forward. From them, light began to radiate and shone even brighter than the rest of his presence. Rygic suddenly began to feel a sense of absolute relief and a calming sensation filled his body, a nice change in comparison to the surprising displays of the other spirits. Alavan nodded at Rygic and smiled. "Though my powers may not wield the destructive might of the other Patrons," he began, his words carrying tranquil wisdom, “I offer you something equally profound and precious. Choose me as your Patron, and you shall possess the extraordinary power to heal all injuries and to mend even the most shattered of souls." He then brought his hands to overlap one another and placed them on his chest. The radiant glow that was brightly beaming began to withdraw within him and his hair returned to the blonde shade that it was before. With a curt bow, he stepped back in line.
“Standing next to Alavan is Lanami, Spirit of Shadow Magic,” said Seiran.
Lanami’s robes were draped in the darkest shades of grey, blending seamlessly with the shadows that enveloped her figure. A black hood concealed her features, veiling her identity from prying eyes. As Rygic studied her, he found himself caught in a guessing game, pondering whether she had chosen to manifest as a human or an elf, but her true nature remained shrouded in uncertainty. After a moment of observing her, thick light grey smoke began to emerge from the floor beneath her. Rygic squinted, straining to catch a glimpse of her amidst the swirling mist, but as the smoke dissipated, she was nowhere to be seen. A silent exchange of glances conveyed Seiran's unspoken message, urging Rygic to look behind them. With a jolt of surprise, Rygic spun around, only to find Lanami standing inches away from him with a satisfied grin plastered on her face. He quickly backpedaled to put some room between them. How had she managed to approach him so swiftly and without a sound, evading detection in the blink of an eye? She peered at him through dark brown eyes, a playful glint hinted from their depths, though tinged with a deadly allure. Briefly, Rygic had been able to glimpse the subtle nuances of her appearance. Despite the warmth exuded by her copper-toned skin and the elegance of her features – the regal arch of her brows, the soft contours of her cheeks – an icy chill seemed to emanate from her, a stark contrast that only deepened the mystery surrounding her. “With me as your Patron, you could easily hide in the very shadows most fear. Pick me if you wish to use the arts of stealth and reconnaissance.” With a short bow, she returned to her original spot without making a sound.
“Arista, Spirit of Death Magic,” announced Seiran as he gestured toward her.
Arista, who appeared as a human with long hair reaching well past her hips in a mesmerizing blend of black and purple hues, stood as the last to show a display of power. Adorned in a flowing robe of a deep wine color, she exuded an air of elegance and mystical charm. Arista gazed at Rygic and lowered herself into a profound bow, her movements imbued with a refinement that seemed almost otherworldly. She delicately stepped forward; her eyes downcast. A hush fell over the room and anticipation hung in the air like a veil. “Unlike the Spirits of Death Magic before me, I have never strayed,” she declared firmly. Arista lifted her head and made eye contact with Rygic. Her gaze was so intense that it momentarily stole his breath away. He couldn't look away as she observed him, captivated by the mystifying allure of her violet eyes. “With me as your Patron, you’ll learn spells that sap the life and strength from your enemies… among a few others you might find useful,” she mysteriously hinted. She then took a deep bow once more and stepped back.
“And finally, I, Seiran, am the Spirit of Arcane Magic. The school of magic that any affinity can call upon and wield as the others were born from it. My followers are many as I stand before all as a Patron. Picking Arcane as your affinity will greatly enhance your base spells.” To emphasize his point, he extended his hand, conjuring a powerful bubble of blue energy that surrounded him. The sphere began to expand quickly, causing Rygic to flinch as it enveloped him before engulfing the entire room. Even to the untrained, Rygic could feel the enormous amount of mana feeding the dome. With a mere gesture, Seiran lowered his hand, effortlessly dispelling the bubble. “Now that you have heard what we have to offer, which do you choose, Rygic?” he inquired. Each spirit looked to Rygic, eagerly awaiting his reply.
As Rygic stood there, feeling the mounting pressure to suddenly make his choice, the heavy metal doors swung open with a resounding creak. All eyes turned towards the figure who gracefully glided into the room, exuding a powerful presence and sense of confidence. The assembled Seirandal bore expressions of genuine surprise, except for Seiran, who seemed unfazed. Instead, he greeted the newcomer with a big smile, clearly delighted by her arrival.
“Apologies for my late arrival, I trust I made it in time?” asked the Spirit.
“Just in time, Yunea. Rygic, this is Yunea, Spirit of Aether Magic,” informed Seiran.
Yunea appeared as a slightly shorter-than-average elf. Her fair complexion was starkly accentuated by the raven black locks of hair resting down her back, elegantly restrained by a binding at the nape of her neck. Her robes were an exquisite blend of white and pink hues, draped gracefully around her form. Drawing closer to Rygic, Yunea fixed her gaze upon him, studying him intently for a fleeting moment. Her index finger was placed on her lips, pursed in thought, before decidedly speaking. “Greetings. As Seiran has informed you, I am Yunea, Spirit of Aether Magic.” After a brief pause, she continued, “Unlike the others, my magic works a bit differently. You could say it is more akin to anti-magic. You’ll be able to steal the spells of others, silence those in mid-cast, and should you become powerful enough, negate the spells of others.”
Of all the Spirits so far, what Yunea offered was the most unique. However, he wasn’t so naïve to think such strong abilities had any weaknesses. “What are the downsides?” Rygic asked, trying to sound as courteous as possible.
“Should you choose Aether Magic, know that it comes at a great cost...literally. Of all the magic types, Aether requires the most mana, even for the simplest of spells. You’ll be the slowest to earn additional power and reach the most valued spells much later than your peers,” Yunea warned. With a nod to finalize their brief discussion, she then took her place next to Arista.
Rygic knew the moment he heard Yunea explain Aether Magic that he was going to choose it, regardless of the downsides. The warning she gave did make him a bit wary. However, of all the magic types, this one just felt -- right. “Seiran, I choose Yunea as my Patron,” he announced a moment later.
With Rygic having made his decision, the Seirandal all bowed in unison, their presence swiftly dissipating from the room. Only Yunea stayed behind. She approached Rygic with a lighthearted stride. “It is rare that I offer Patronage. It has been a long time since I have seen an elf who might successfully wield Aether Magic. Are you ready?”
“Yes, Yunea. I will not waste the opportunity you have given me,” promised Rygic.
Smiling, Yunea raised her left hand towards Rygic. She lightly touched his forehead with her index finger, just as Seiran had done earlier. Before Rygic could thank her, his vision darkened, and he fell into a deep slumber.