“Wake… up…” A ghostly voice called from the beyond.

I couldn’t hear it clearly; the voice was distorted and far away. Too far away. The voice repeated itself, but with every reiteration, it only got weaker and fainter.

Where was I?

Argh…

The most mundane thought pained me. My mind was too numb to even process my inner thoughts. My mindscape was but a swamp filled with sludge, every movement impossibly difficult and slow.

Only then, the silent whisper was substituted by a tug.

It started gentle, like the rocking of a crib. Then it got strenuous, akin to a ship in a thunderous storm. For some reason, the more grievous the movements became, the brighter the previously unseen light became.

“Wake the fuck up!” Someone shouted right into my eardrums, prompting me to grab my head in reflex and sway around violently in pain. Only to then crash against the wall, with my unprotected forehead.

“What in tarnation!” I shouted in pain, anger, violence, and remembrance. “Why did you do that?”

“Because ya’ wouldn't wake up, dimwit!” He shouted up as angrily as I did.

“You didn’t need to be so violent, Adrian!” I replied aggressively.

“Yes, I did!” He responded in equal terms. “Ya’ wouldn't make a move! Ya’ stood there like a sack of potatoes!”

“Why are we still shouting!” I shouted at him.

“I don’t know!” Adrian cried.

I sighed, impossible amounts of air leaving my lungs. Whatever I had done the night before, it had not been a good thing. Not only my body was heavy and my mind numb, but my soul had also been affected. To an outsider, I was perfectly fine, but somehow, I had managed to tangle my soul.

It was indescribable. Tendrils of white and purple restricted my very being as if I were the prey of a snake. Those tendrils were my own soul. One didn’t need to be a genius to see this was a bad thing, but at least, it wasn’t life-threatening. I had had worse.

I raised my head to see a confused and inquiring Adrian.

“What?” He asked me, even if I well could be the one doing so. “Are ya’ going to the cafeteria or not? Ya’ woke up so late that we may even be late to class.”

I took a deep breath, trying to liberate myself from the jail I was tangled in. “Sure, just go yourself first. I’ll catch up to you in a moment.” I had forgotten classes started back again today. I really pull this kind of stunt at the worst times.

“Ya’ sure?” Adrian asked and I nodded. “Alright, see ya’ at the cafeteria.”

Unsurprisingly, I wasn’t hungry. I was physically, mentally, and spiritually drained. But not hungry. I stood there, sitting on my bed in my nightclothes, meditating as I noticed what had happened when I casted the spell.

I was deep in a trance. My own voice reverberated in my soulspace.

True Recall did exactly what the spell description and its title had said. It allowed me to recall my memories with uncanny accuracy. And that was the problem. Well, the problem was actually that and another thing.

Remembering something with true, objective detail as it happened, was something the brain couldn’t handle. A brain naturally distorted memories as time passed, adapting to the suits of the person. This I learned in Kirielle’s lectures. And this, I had ignored.

And while it was a bad thing, that wasn’t the main problem. Sure, the dissonance between the real events and the flawed memories was bad, especially the longer time went on, yet it still wasn’t what worried me.

The issue at hand was the number of memories I had recalled. I wasn’t a master of the spell or in memories, far from it. I couldn’t recall memories of a specific period of time like Kirielle could, I needed to rewind back in time, and I had rewound too far back.

One might think, as I did for a moment, that the issue was rewinding two decades back in time, before the time I was born. But no. It was the time before I was born that troubled me. It was far too much time. I couldn’t even begin to process how much time I had spent in that river, floating and thinking to myself. Losing myself to the sludge of tortured souls.

I almost had lost myself to a time far gone.

And it scared me.

********

I had lost track of time inside my soulspace, and when I opened my eyes, I noticed I was already late. Forgoing Adrian and my breakfast, I went directly to the classroom, only to find it had already started.

I opened the door to the classroom as a thousand gazes attentively observed me.

“Master Nightfallen,” professor Innit directed to me, yet stopped after he got a look at me, “are you feeling well?”

“What do you mean?” I asked back at him, ignoring my fellow classmates’ looks.

“Well…” His face showed disconcertion. “You seem to lack sleep, or so the severe bags under your eyes tell me.”

I passed my hand below my eyes and felt the skin quite soggy. “I may have been studying too much lately.” And toying with ancient things.

“While your attitude is commendable, readying yourself as holidays ended, you should take more care of your own body,” Henry added with a weak smile. “Also, try not to come late to class.” It may have sounded harsh, but the professor told with an amicable snicker. “You may sit.”

I nodded and sat down on the cushion I usually used. Adrian was at my side, and the whispered to me.

“Man, what were ya’ doing? I waited for you in the cafeteria for a quarter.” Woah, a full quarter of an hour. Watch out, Adrian. You may die of old age.

“Why didn’t you tell me I looked like shit?” I furiously whispered to him.

“I don’t know.” He shrugged. “I sometimes wake up like that, I didn’t give it much thought.”

Before I could tell Adrian one or two things, Henry coughed, snapping for our attention.

“As I was saying…” He began class anew as he put his hands down on the teacher’s lecturer. “We have learned various types of mana optimization over this year, but most of them were proactive. In most cases, you needed to optimize the spell’s framework before conjuring it. Today I’ll teach you about an obscure, yet relevant subject related to mana optimization: Chanting.”

Professor Innit’s lecture arose some expectations amongst the students. Chanting wasn’t anything unknown to a mage. But it was a rather antiquate conjuring method. Yes, there were more methods than casting and spellcasting. If it fell in disuse, it was because it was slow. Mages of legend would always chant ridiculously long spells to save the day, but in reality, it was not very practical. Chanting could be interrupted with ease, unlike spellcasting which required an expert manaweaver to do so, and especially unlike casting which ended up being near immediate most of the time.

“Alright, alright. I can see your confusion and I do understand it. But this is Applied Mathematics, not magic combat training.” Innit explained. “Chanting is one of the most efficient schools of conjuration, allowing one to save up a considerable amount of mana at the cost of time. But even I won’t teach you such forgotten practices. Instead, we are going to learn something in the middle ground. Xenoglossia. Also known as words of power.”

Henry began writing a series of phrases on the chalkboard. He wasn’t writing by hand, but by the means of advanced telekinesis, of course. A few phrases were incredibly long, stretching out the three boards at the classroom front, others, on the other hand, were just words.

“Xenoglossia is truly a fantastical method of conjuration.” The professor talked as the chalk continued magically writing behind him. “Unlike chanting, it isn’t a school of its own, but a complementary method. It can be both applied to casting and spellcasting.”

You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

It was incredible the mastery the man had with telekinesis. He was writing without looking while lecturing a class, and without making mistakes along with having breathtaking calligraphy. Henry finally turned his back to the classroom as he pointed at the chalkboard.

“This long phrase is the chant required to conjure a Fireball spell. As you can see it's pretty long, and a pyromancer of your caliber could conjure it almost instantly.” Only negatives so far. “But the thing about chanting is that, for example, a four-star mage could conjure a Fireball even if it is a six-star spell. If it has the sufficient mana to do so, obviously.”

That… that was actually a really good thing. Being able to bypass two whole stars was wild, even if it wasn’t possible for a four-star mage to have enough mana to cast a Fireball as it would most likely be a child just over ten.

“As for Xenoglossia, well, here you have the word of power.” Professor Innit pointed at a collage of runic sigils that simply said ‘Fireball’, of course, it was more difficult to pronounce in reality than using ellari language.

“There are two types of Xenoglossia: runic words and common words.” He then pointed at a ‘Fireball’ written in ellari. “Common words are easy to use but have minimal effect. They will give your spells a bit more strength, but nothing considerable. It’s also not used by battlemages as it's basically telling your next move to your opponent. Runic words are far more interesting. They not only empower the spell but also reduce mana consumption. The only problem this method has is that runic language is a tongue twister by definition, and you may probably fail at the pronunciation.”

As a demonstration, professor Innit read aloud one of the other runic inscriptions on the board. Runic language wasn’t typically spoken, if ever, because it didn’t have the properties of a standard language. It was a language only thought out to be written and engraved. The sounds coming from Innit’s mouth sounded alien, not something from this world, cementing the idea that runic shouldn’t be talked about. The syllables, the word, it all contained a pressure to it. Words of power was an accurate name.

Ak’fàt-nës’pktalô or something like that was the runic word he spoke. I could easily tell it wasn’t a Fireball spell for a bunch of reasons. With my manaweaver prowess I could tell he wasn’t channeling the spell, as I had seen it before; and the runes he pronounced weren’t the same as describing Fireball. Also, he invoked a circular shield at his side.

“This is an empowered version of the Crystalline Aegis most of you, force mages, are familiar with.” Innit said.

I remembered seeing this spell from time to time at combat practice. The spell was translucid with a white hue. If I recalled correctly, Crystalline Aegis was a concentrated seven-star force defensive spell, meaning that unlike omnidirectional defensive spells like most barrier types, it was incredibly strong. It was meant for the conjurer to move it at will and block directed spells, rather than providing passive protection.

Henry then proceeded to conjure two more versions of the spell. One with common words, and the other with the all-familiar spellcasting technique. The three spells levitated at his side. I may have now achieved the eight-star, but it was remarkable to me how he spellcasted three seven-star spells like nothing and with haste.

“As you can tell, there’s a clear difference between a runic-powered spellcast and a common one.” The professor pointed at both spells.

Whilst the empowered spell had a white hue, the default one was practically invisible. One had to really squint their eyes to see it. I understood instantly why he chose such spell to show. One might think that the basic Crystalline Aegis was stronger as it was mostly invisible and that would prove an advantage at combat, but that was what marked the difference between the spells.

The empowered aegis was more visible because it was more concentrated. The mana was more concentrated, making the shield more resilient. Now that I looked at the spell conjured with common words, it also had a white hue, yet fainter. One could say the spells were translucid, transparent, and invisible, their power in this respective order.

A fellow classmate in the first row raised his hand.

“Yes?” Henry allowed him to speak.

I looked at the student in question and recalled that he was one of the many force mages in the class. I preferred the term dynamimancer to describe Force affinity users, but it wasn’t used a lot. And I could understand why.

“How’s it that the runic word Crystalline Aegis is stronger than both the common word and the default one if less mana was used?” The student said.

“Very good question, master Quearim.” Henry nodded. “This is actually the foundation of this lesson and the coming ones. Runic words not only allow spells to be empowered as you may have already seen, but it’s far more optimized than spellcasting.”

“So, by speaking the runic name of the spell, we can save up mana and make a more powerful spell?” Quearim asked.

“Indeed, but the runic tongue is a treacherous one, and it even presents some difficulties to me.” Whispers flew across the room. If an adult ellari mage of the tenth star with centuries of knowledge had difficulties speaking the words, how could measly students pronounce them? “And besides, not all spells have runic translations, or otherwise you would see more runespeakers around.”

It was the first time I had heard of the term runespeaker, though I wouldn’t deny the concept interested me deeply. Instead of being a wizard or a sorcerer, you could use the runes to your advantage.

“But the reasoning behind teaching you about Xenoglossia isn’t because I would like you to use them in combat. The knowledge itself of this curious school of conjuration is enough.” Professor Innit said as he dispelled the three floating shields with a sway of his hand. “I don’t believe anyone of the present here will be able to empower a spell with runic words in the coming weeks, or even in their lifetime, as it’s a rather dying art. But it’s a whole other matter with common words.”

I believed his words. The act of speaking the runic language was complicated and applying it to a combat scenario was foolish. But their use outside of combat proved useful. I could proactively use spells like Prismatic Barrier or Concealment, and they would last the whole day whilst also being empowered. But that implied looking for the runic translations of the spells, and I doubted a rune dictionary was a thing.

“Common words are a far easier activity, though not commonly practiced.” He lectured. “It’s as easy as reciting the spell’s name as it’s being casted or spellcasted. But as I said before, the increase is so minimal, not a lot of people bother to use common words, even if they are using them for tasks that would benefit from doing so. Most people who use common words are not even mages, but civilians that would like to give an extra oomph to their spells. Even if they don’t know the theory behind it.”

So, are you telling me that when I recited the Slow Fall spell all those years ago in front of my family to show them I was a three-star mage, I had empowered the spell unknowingly with words of power?

Henry was right, then. I hadn’t noticed any difference at that moment. Why even bother revealing to people what spell would you conjure if not only to show off as I did?

“For the rest of the class, we are going to delve a bit into the theory behind how common and runic words work. I’m sure you will find Xenoglossia a very interesting topic. Also,” he rose his hand a pointed to a runic word written on the board, “you can try to speak the runic word here. This is the translation of the Mage Light spell, and probably the easiest one I have ever found in all my years of research.”

The Mage Light rune word read us such: Nikt’aus. Yes, definitely simpler than whatever the runes for the Crystalline Aegis were. I couldn’t even remember them.

Professor Innit gave us half an hour of pure theory before giving us a few minutes before the end of the class to try out the runic words for ourselves.

“Nict aus.” Monica whispered at my side, trying to spellcast an empowered Mage Light. She failed miserably, just like the rest of us. Her only saving grace was that she was the only one who had the modesty to keep the words to herself instead of shouting like Adrian.

“You’ve got the word linking incorrectly,” I explained to her. “It’s not two separate words, but a composed one. There’s no space between them.”

“Oh,” she exclaimed in realization, “I didn’t notice. Thank you, Edrie.”

“No problem.” I nodded. “Though I wouldn’t trust my advice, I have yet to speak the runic words myself.”

“Yet you were able to notice the mistakes I made.” Monica added with a slight smile.

“I only have a keen hearing.” I dismissed her compliments.

Suddenly, a pulse.

I looked at my surroundings, an endless darkness embracing me. A cacophony of sounds assaulted me, my ears ringing.

No. No!

I grabbed my head, memories overwhelming me, the echoes of the ever-present river. I tried to shuffle back the remembrances, yet as the sludge, it was immovable yet of inexorable advance.

Stop!

My soul beckoned, small tendrils thrashing around. I was back in the classroom, not a single instant had passed. I saw Monica looking at me in confusion.

“Are you alright?” She asked with the same worry Henry had done when I entered the class. Did I look that bad?

“Yes, I only need a bit of rest. I have slept rather poorly today.” It was an understatement.

Assaults of the River of the Damned didn’t affect me this badly normally. Did the current state of my soul weaken me this much?

“Nikt’aus!” An excited Marissa shouted at my side. “I made it, Edrie! I made it!” She pointed at the Mage Light like a child showing their parents a drawing they made.

“Yes, I see,” I replied in an emotionless manner, I didn’t know if my tone was influenced by innate neutrality or the river. “But it would be better if you didn’t shout as the rest of the class also wants to make it.”

“Oh.” Marissa looked around the room, our classmates and the teacher looking at her. “Sorry!” Her ears gained a slight pink coloration on their tips as she blushed.

As the class returned to their previous activities, I tried speaking the runic words for myself, yet the words were unable to come out of my mouth. Then I noticed, as my throat pained, the problem wasn’t the words but myself.

I swirled mana across my soul in order to calm myself. Tendrils of mystical energy danced in harmony with the rhythm of my mana. For a single instant, I felt complete inner peace. In that Zen moment, I had a revelation. Providence, you could say. I recalled a forgotten language, one of the dead.

I spoke.

“Nikt’aus.” It felt natural, my words carried power, even if at that moment I had been mute.

Alike Marissa, a powerful ball of light materialized before me, far more powerful than it needed. Instead of a lantern, it was a full-blown limelight.

“Wow, first try,” Monica commented. “See, I told you you were good at this.”

“Beginner’s luck.” I acted with modesty.

I wasn’t interested in compliments or achievements but lost in my thoughts. For at this moment, I comprehended how much power the words of the runic language could carry. How I spoke like the Lady of the River.

The beckoning of the river hadn’t damaged me because of my soul state (though I wouldn’t deny it may have had an effect) but because I was using its own language. The language of the dead.

The class swiftly ended and then Spell Cryptography started, once again lectured by the one and only, Henry Innit. Between my exhaustion and the revelations I had undergone, I couldn’t bring myself to pay any attention to his class. I could only hear the last words before lunch break came.

“And remember,” Henry said, “at the end of the week we will have the first field trip of the academy program. Perhaps one of the most important places you will visit in Ferilyn, the Arcane Sanctum.”