Val fumbled with her keys as excitement ate away at her coordination, struggling to fit the piece of metal inside its slot. Bursting past the doors of her home, she threw her lanyard on the nearby ledge, whisked off her sneakers, shed her coat and raced past the carpeted antechamber. Slippery socks like skates on the newly-renovated floor, she could hardly control herself as she skid across the living room.
The grand, awe-inspiring entrance was met with the loudest of snores.
Caro and Andy conked out on the couch, limbs awry on the L-shaped furniture. Kenneth blinked at his breathless sister in the sliver of space he carved out for himself, no longer paying mind to the muted movie displayed on the low-end television. “Judging by all that, I’d say you come bearing good news.”
“Seems like a tale for another day, though” she smiled at the napping duo, fatigue authorizing its toll regardless of the caffeine the pair consumed over the day.
Wrapping the sleepyheads in the spare covers packed away in the boys’ bedroom, she tapped on Kenneth’s shoulder. “C’mon, let’s get you to bed. You’ve got school tomorrow.”
“Do I have to go?” Kenneth groaned. “All anyone ever talks about is the size of their coffers. Coffers. Sis—who says that? Or better yet, who cares?”
“Try to make friends or something.”
“Hard to when the first question anyone asks me is which halo I come from.” Kenneth clicked his tongue. “They know the answer, too.”
“You’ll find a way.” Val looped an arm around Kenneth’s neck. “You always do.”
----------------------------------------
First Halo of Ciazel,
Atera,
Hall of Eons
-Three days later-
“Novice Greene, head to the last door. Quickly.” Instructor Hawke’s voice carried across the tight brick-and-plaster hall with ease, directing the last of the recruits to join a sprawling line.
Stifling a yawn, Val’s green-eyed gaze roamed the surroundings, absorbing the look of yet another room. Gone were the enchanted glass, crystal lights and edgeless chamber. Instead, ten doors put an end to the patterned walls, a queue of midborn sprouting out of each.
Lacking the doorframe and the door itself, it was akin to a perfectly-arched and flawlessly-shaped hole, its obscured passage leading to an unknown area.
Caro nudged her from behind, turning Val around. “Wanna place a bet on what’s on the other side?”
“After I bought you roast pork with my hard-earned money?” Val snorted. “Dream on.”
“Scared, aren’t we?”
“More like smart, maybe?”
“Some of you have noticed the subtitles on your spellsheets, pestering me endlessly,” Instructor Hawke spoke over the din of chatter and a hush settled across the room. “The activities set up today will shed light on the Six Disciplines of Magic.”
She gestured to the series of opaque tunnels. “Your goal of the day is to reach the end of the Discipline Corridor. All I ask of you is to internalize each action. Observe your instincts and discern which discipline aligns with you and your style. It is integral down the line.”
Grabbing her sunglasses by the bridge, she let her dulled irises convey the weight of her words. “Those first in line, go ahead.”
Val breathed out any lingering anxiety and advanced into the pitch-dark corridor. Passing by a sheen at the threshold, ambient lighting disappeared in a matter of milliseconds.
‘Please wait as the Discipline Corridor for Novice Efron is made as desired by Magus Hawke, Third-Class Adventurer.”
She nearly jumped out of her own skin at the female voice ringing out inside the car-wide hall, the underlying hint of automation relieving a degree of the fright. I swear each piece of magitech is a jumpscare.
‘Rendering… 0%’
The automated voice informed, vibrations racking the soles of her feet as the ground rumbled ever-so-slightly.
‘Rendering… 33%’
At the next update, the faint earthquake ceased to exist. Silence pooled in an enveloping, eerie ring around Val, leaving her in the dark, in her thoughts and in her fears.
‘Rendering… 67%’
‘Rendering… 99%’
‘Successfully rendered!’
At the latest notification, radiance blinded her to the point of seeing red behind closed eyelids. Braving the sudden light change and opening her eyes, she surveyed the mundane-looking hallway. Panel walls of the most unsaturated version of red—bordering on pink—hemmed Val’s space, and a dark carpet rolled out across the entire stretch of the confined area. Going Ciazen-themed I guess.
Enchanted bulbs shaded the hall a slight yellow, following Val as she bounded to the other end. Clad in her grey activewear and hair plaited into a tail-like braid, her body was unrestricted by unwanted fabrics as she leaned into a sprint.
Crossing meters by the minute, she arrived at the end of the corridor, welcomed into a stone box of a room, drab and undecorated. One blue chest, accented by ivory metal and emblazoned with the age-old tree insignia of Age of Atera, rested against the wall, waiting to be opened. Searching for the route into the next stage, Val easily spotted a pathway on the other end of the chamber.
Problem was, a broad gap cut off what would’ve been a simple stroll towards the second stage, stretching from wall to wall. Inching over the precipice to glance below, she raised an eyebrow at the visible bottom, a little more than one-story high. Survivable.
Deciding to take a look at the insides of the wooden crate, Val discovered two pieces of paper lying within. One carried the distinct tea-stained hue of a spellsheet and the other of coloured, recycled paper.
Val began skimming through the second sheet, slowing down her pace as she swiftly grew intrigued and captivated. It went into detail on the Disciplines of Magic, giving her a base knowledge of the axes on which spellcraft operated.
By definition, it seemed disciplines were the avenues of magic; they evoked varying reactions at times and other instances, identical phenomena. Just like Metal Orb.
Both invocation and conjuration brought about the form of a coldsteel orb, yet went in different ways about it. One called it into existence, and another shaped it out of present material.
The coloured page’s bottom paragraphs aroused Val’s innermost curiosity.
TRAVERSAL DISCIPLINE ACTIVE DISCIPLINE —used by Hunters
The Transversal Discipline is a subset of magic that encapsulates movement. It aids a mage’s travel time, suppresses others’ traversal ability, and transforms motion as a whole, allowing movement outside terrestrial bounds.
Using the given spell, cross the gap to clear stage one.
Val found it limiting to confine an entire discipline to movement alone—there were just six of them. How would a Hunter attack, defend, or heal themselves when the need arose? Let’s see this spell first.
{Traversal} [Metal] Tier 1: Metal Skates
Type: Utility
→ conjuring two metal plates, a mage may hover leisurely in any direction with them at their feet.
Core Hex Criterion
Offence:
❙❙❙❙❙❙
Defence:
❙❙❙❙❙❙
Agility:
❙❙❙❙❙❙
This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings.
Malleability:
❙❙❙❙❙❙
Health:
❙❙❙❙❙❙
Special Effects:
❙❙❙❙❙❙
Minor Hex Criterion
Range: N/A
Incantation Tempo: Multiplex
Energy Required: 10 AS
Only one point in agility? The colour was diluted as well, meaning its potency wasn’t up to that one full point.
“Absorb.” After the flash of pink, Val braced herself for the flow of information. Even after assimilating three spellsheets up to now, the odd sensation of foreign knowledge becoming something next to second-hand nature was icky. It felt akin to invisible puppet strings pulling at her neurons. Almost like my eye twitching after a long day of work, but instead… it’s my brain? My thoughts?
Shaking off the ghost of the peculiar sensation, she internalized the frames of Metal Skates. It was dissimilar from the Metal Spike from before, with levitate being added alongside movement. It didn’t flow as well as the other syllables she’d used and she couldn’t tell if it was because of lack of use or a style change.
Elemental ensign burning within, Val casted her spell. “Metal Skates!”
Immediately, she grew half an inch in height as a freezing sheet of coldsteel manifested beneath her combat boots. Teeth chattering against her will, she ordered the pair of levitating plates to ascend a few inches off the ground.
It obeyed and in thirty excruciating seconds, she gained flight. Unfortunately, the sudden stoppage of movement once she reached the desired height, even at the speed of an old snail, disoriented Val and she slipped off the skates. Though she landed safely, the spell vanished into particles the moment she stepped away, wasting exactly ten of her twelve aether strands.
She sighed.
There was a long, long way to go.
A half hour of meditation and a full Aetherial Vessel later, Val gave it another try. Succeeding in vertically-inclined motion, she attempted the horizontal plane and decided it was a far easier task than the former. Not one to lose due to overconfidence, she trained for the few seconds she could cast it—the spell constantly requiring energy—and made up her mind to cross the gap after refilling her AV.
The third time around, taking to the air was as easy as plucking an open string on a guitar. Soon, she hovered over to the gap, traveling a grand meter per minute. However, the moment she glided over the crevice in full and gazed down, the height difference became disorienting—she felt higher up.
Waving her arms in desperate circles to keep her balance for a few seconds, Val nosedived into the gaping hole below. Her descent halted inches from the lower floor, a deadly plunge slowing to a slow crawl before ceasing altogether.
“Ow!” she mumbled, left to freefall a few inches off the ground. A door rumbled open at the crevice’s side, the words ‘alternate exit’ etched above.
Sighing once more, she sifted a hand through her hair. Stage one: failed.
…
If not for missing the gap barring Val’s route to stage two, the next room would’ve been identical to its predecessor. Instead, an apparatus fixed the door shut, consisting of a dial attached to a downwards thermometer-shaped hole. A Glazen square hung within.
Naturally, Val cracked the chest open to survey what the spell at hand was, and how it could help open the sealed passageway to the next stage.
DISCIPLINE OF INVOCATION ACTIVE DISCIPLINE —used by Strikers
The Discipline of Invocation is the offensive handling of elements present. Inherent fluidity cocoons every spell, allowing for instinctual, constant control that is found to be lacking or completely unavailable in other disciplines.
Using the given spell, unlock the door to clear stage two.
Val’s smile at the start of the discipline detail broadened to a grin as she read on. The discipline felt crafted personally for her, an avenue resonant with her philosophy. It lacks firepower, though. That had always been a weakness of hers and it’d be a shame if the fact crossed over into her ability in spellcraft.
Scratching her head at the complication, she glanced at the spellsheet in her grasp.
{Invocation} [Metal] Tier 1: Metallic Reformation
Type: Utility, Combative — Unskewed
→ change the shape of the desired metal to what is in mind. Note, due to using the Discipline of Invocation, energy expense to control thereafter of the same reformed metal is at the minimum and can be weaved into other spells.
Core Hex Criterion
Offence:
❙❙❙❙❙❙
Defence:
❙❙❙❙❙❙
Agility:
❙❙❙❙❙❙
Malleability:
❙❙❙❙❙❙
Health:
❙❙❙❙❙❙
Special Effects:
❙❙❙❙❙❙
Minor Hex Criterion
Radius: Dependent on the mage
Incantation Tempo: Dependent on the mage
Energy Required: 5 AS
Walking over to the door, Val surveyed the rig stopping her entry to the next stage. Shaped like a head-sized lock, digits lined the edge of the dial. One of the numbers was bolded, and a coldsteel cube dangled from the device beneath.
Val tugged on the string using the metal block as a handle and the needle on the dial shifted. Trying to pull it further to round the hand over to the bolded number, the cube became stuck as its shape caught in the hollow tube, unable to progress with its sharp ridges. Oh, I get it.
“Absorb,” she whispered, surprised at the number of frames the spell possessed. Reciting it internally and deciding to wing it, she casted it the following second. “Metallic Reformation.”
The cube soaked up its edges in her grasp, curving out to become a sphere. With intuitive ease, Val tugged the string by moving the cube of metal downwards mentally. Once it aligned with the emboldened number, a distinct click echoed.
Unlocked, the door shifted open and a small smile bloomed on Val’s lips. In comparison to the Traversal Discipline, invocation had felt like an easy stroll despite the longer incantation time. Surprisingly easy.
Though the hallway called out to her, she batted the temptation away and sat cross-legged in an attempt to absolve her half-full AV.
…
Val’s archenemy glared at her from across the room of the third stage.
Three of them, actually.
A trio of stands barricaded her from the next level, paper films sitting leisurely on the wooden structures’ ledge. The very same unblemished targets she failed to hit a few days ago sat unbothered, the crux of the false belief that she could not cast.
Time to leave that mentality behind.
Unfurling the discipline detail page, Val’s eyes flitted back and forth, eyebrows raising once she reached the end.
DISCIPLINE OF CONJURATION ACTIVE DISCIPLINE —used by Supports
The Discipline of Conjuration is the optimal usage of the offensive segment of the arcane. Stringing frame after frame, its pronounced spells wire power and competency within, able to cast spells of unseen levels of destruction. However, since most details need to be added while casting, it remains rigid and carries long incantation times.
Using the given spell, strike all the targets to clear stage three.
Rather than the tiny spells woven back-to-back common in invocation, conjuration was one sweeping spell to deal away with all opponents. One discipline sacrificed power for fluidity, and the other, fluidity for power. Couldn’t I fix that by using both disciplines?
Nodding her head at what could be the solution to the inherent problem of the disciplines, Val observed the familiar spell—Metal Spike.
She chuckled at the uncanniness and got straight to work. Weaving frame after frame, she expressed her will to the Elemental Gate of Metal and its orbiting ensign of Glaze. As its countenance brightened, she readied her aim and invoked the spell that once consumed her confidence. “Metal Spike!”
A barb of hardened, ice-coloured metal popped into life, rushing over to her desired target. It’s a bit off.
Val tweaked it using the movement frame in the needed direction the same way she had for Metallic Reformation. Her will bounced off the spell and it continued to impale the film at its edge. Rigid indeed.
The door to the next stage ticked, indicating that a pierced target wherever was as fine as one in the center.
“Perfect,” she muttered. Nothing better than something making her life easier.
Taking a seat, Val conducted her meditative breathing techniques, clearing the mind and ruminating on the three disciplines learned so far.
Each she’d been able to cast, though to a varying degree of proficiency. Metal Skates worked yet, in the grand scheme of things, wouldn’t be put to use in a method worthy of its utility by her.
There was this junk accompanied by the discipline she couldn’t shake, like the frustration of scratching against an unwanted guitar string midsong. Proper technique solved that problem, but it seemed it’d be a permanent feeling for the Traversal Discipline.
To her, it wasn’t an ultimate loss. Metal wasn’t the best for moving anyway.
Invocation, if described in a word, was amazing. The philosophy of swift, liquidy movements paired beautifully with her style of quick strikes, quick feet and quick parries. Perhaps, once she got to the defensive disciplines, she might be able to create the handy shield from her time within the Tripartite Trial when need be. Won’t have to carry it all day long, either.
And at last, the Discipline of Conjuration looked to be a discipline for those far off, like the archers and blaster-users of today. The long incantation times probably made them a liability for a while, which seemed off-putting.
She couldn’t imagine being a sitting duck as a Stormcrawler lumbered in her direction. For better or for worse, the requirement for aim all but eliminated Val. Aim, thankfully, was something capable of being learned.
All things considered, she was surprised that for the first time three weeks into her obligatory training, she was having… fun. The vagueness created by the Laws was evaporating and her knowledge of spellcraft was ascending.
Her chances for Life’s Hymn morphed into something more than hope as she became a better mage.
With a full Aetherial Vessel and a hungry desire for more, Val rose to steady feet, ravenous eyes on the remaining targets.
Time to get to stage four.