As I sat in the dim light of my cave, surrounded by the faint hum of mana, I turned my focus to something new—metal magic, a subset of ground magic. Ground magic had always fascinated me, with its power over earth, stone, and minerals. But within that broad category lay something even more intriguing: metal magic. It wasn’t as chaotic as fire or as swift as lightning, but it was solid, steady, and powerful in its own right.

The heavy tome before me lay open, revealing pages filled with arcane symbols and instructions on how to manipulate metal and minerals. It was different from nature magic, which I'd been studying for some time. Metal magic required precision and a deeper understanding of the earth’s raw, unyielding force. While nature magic flowed with life and growth, metal magic was about strength, control, and the very bones of the earth.

Being a variant dragon, I had access to forms of magic that many in my clan ignored or didn’t fully understand. The other blue dragons focused more on the elemental forces—lightning, air, and water—but I had a deeper connection to magic itself. Ground magic, particularly metal, felt like a natural extension of that connection. It wasn’t just about moving the earth; it was about shaping and manipulating its most durable and valuable aspects.

I ran a claw along the edge of the tome, focusing on a section about summoning and shaping metal from the ground. The diagrams showed how metal veins could be drawn out from deep within the earth and forged into whatever the caster desired. I closed my eyes and reached out with my magic, feeling for the metals beneath the surface. The ground beneath my cave hummed with potential—veins of iron, silver, and copper running deep within the mountains.

Ground magic, like nature magic, demanded an understanding of the material you were manipulating. But where nature magic was about coaxing life to grow and flourish, metal magic was about commanding the earth itself to bend to your will. It required a different kind of patience—a slow, steady persistence that matched the unyielding nature of the ground.

Slowly, I extended my magic, sensing the pull of metal below. It was an unfamiliar sensation at first—heavy, dense, and resistant—but I could feel the raw power in it. I inhaled deeply and pulled, and the earth responded with a groan. Small shards of metal began to rise from the ground, shimmering in the dim light of my cave. I opened my eyes to see fragments of ore hovering before me—iron, silver, and even traces of gold, though they were faint.

I smirked at the sight. These fragments were raw, unrefined, but they represented the potential that ground magic held. With a flick of my claw, I began shaping the iron into a small orb, compressing it tighter and tighter until it gleamed with the sheen of polished metal. The resistance of the material was exhilarating. This wasn’t like bending a tree or guiding a vine to grow; this was commanding the earth’s most unyielding force and shaping it as I saw fit.

Metal magic, like ground magic in general, wasn’t just about brute strength. It required finesse and control, a deep understanding of the properties of the material. I could feel the weight of the iron orb, its density, and the potential it had for creation or destruction. In the hands of a master, metal could be turned into weapons of unimaginable strength, or shaped into structures that would stand for ages.

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I set the orb down and turned back to the tome, flipping through pages on metal transmutation. This was where the true mastery of metal magic lay—changing one metal into another, refining its properties or altering them altogether. The tome explained that every metal had an essence, a magical structure unique to it, and by understanding that structure, one could manipulate it at will. Gold could become lead, iron could become silver—it was all a matter of unlocking the metal’s hidden potential.

The process was delicate. Any mistake could cause the metal to lose its strength or become brittle, but with practice, one could refine even the most impure of ores. I inhaled deeply and closed my eyes again, reaching out for the metal orb I had created. This time, I focused on its essence—the weight of the iron, the way its molecules were structured. Slowly, I began shifting that structure, guiding the iron to become something more valuable.

The orb quivered in the air as my magic took hold. I could feel the iron resisting the change, but I pressed on, coaxing the transformation with care. Gradually, the dull grey metal darkened, taking on a more polished sheen. It became heavier, more dense, and its surface smoothed out as the iron shifted into steel. I could sense the strength of the new metal—it was tougher, more resilient than the raw iron it had been moments before.

When the transformation was complete, I held the steel orb in my claw, admiring the result. It wasn’t perfect, but it was progress. The steel was still rough in places, and I could sense imperfections in the structure, but I had successfully transmuted it. This was only the beginning.

Metal magic was more than just shaping or transforming metal—it was about understanding the very essence of the earth. Ground magic had always felt deeply connected to me, but this was different. It was the foundation of creation itself, the raw material that shaped the world.

I set the steel orb down and looked outside the cave, where the mountains loomed high above. I couldn’t help but think of the potential metal magic held for the future. The rest of the clan might not understand my fascination with it, preferring the more direct and destructive forces of lightning or fire, but I knew that ground magic—especially metal—was a force to be reckoned with.

Tomorrow, I would continue my studies. There were metals I had yet to explore—silver, gold, even the rare mithril that the tome spoke of. Each metal had its own properties, its own magical essence, and I intended to learn them all. I could see the possibilities already—creating weapons that were not just enchanted, but imbued with the very essence of the earth itself. Armor that could withstand even the strongest of magical attacks. Constructs made entirely of metal, brought to life with my magic.

But for now, I was content with my progress. Metal magic was more than I had expected, and I had only scratched the surface. There was so much more to learn, and I was eager to dive deeper into the mysteries of the ground.

Tomorrow, I would explore the veins of rare metals deep within the mountains, and who knows what else I might find? But tonight, I would rest, knowing that I had taken my first step into the world of metal magic, a magic that was as ancient and powerful as the earth itself.