MITCHELL – AGE 9 – MARAGON’S TOWER, NEAR GARET, KLYDOR

11TH KENNOVAS, SPRING, 835 PBM

Mitchell knelt on a silvery-metallic rug. Maragon knew he liked it, had done from the moment he first got his hands on it as a baby, so he had positioned it to be the mat Mitchell would use today. Clad in a simple grey robe, held together by a plain belt sash, Mitchell's hair was shorn close, mimicking his mentor’s.

Maragon was wearing red robes for today’s classes, with a circular symbol around a bear on its breast. The symbol was embroidered golden stitch. His piercing blue eyes watched Mitchell intently, but there was a warmth there to encourage Mitchell. His goatee was well trimmed and a dark brown colour, like his hair would get in the rare instances he allowed it to grow beyond stubble. On his hip he wore his curved, single-edged blade. Mitchell was accustomed to Maragon always having that blade at the ready. If it were not strapped to his side, then it was always close by, leaning against a wall, and never much more than an arm’s reach away.

“Are you ready to cast your first spell?” Maragon asked. He smiled, to both offer his student/ward encouragement, but also because he knew the answer; regardless of what his ward thought.

Mitchell nodded.

“Stay calm and concentrate, as I have taught you. There is energy in nearly all the objects around you. To a mage this can be used to fuel your magick.” Maragon passed him a simple candle, its wick burning strongly and casting a pale light. “Feel the energy within the candle. Connect with it and channel its energy into you,” instructed Maragon calmly.

The weight of the moment pressed on Mitchell. ‘My first lesson where I’ll cast my own magic. I hope I do it right!’

“How are you feeling?” asked Maragon. “It is important to be able to talk about everything that happens today. Mistakes are normal. It is how we learn from them that separates the strong from the weak.

“I’m excited. I’m also scared,” Mitchell replied, his boyish voice clearly revealing his emotions as much as the words he said.

“Remember not to use contractions. Magick is about having a structured mind and process. We do not cut corners in anything, and a contraction is simply a lazy, unnecessary short-cut taken in speech or thought.”

This was Mitchell’s life for as long as he could remember. Maragon instructing him in how to live, and filling his day with tasks to complete and challenges to overcome. There was a small allowance for play and fun, but from what Mitchell had seen from the other children in town, his life was not like theirs.

“Channelling is all about drawing magickal energies from within ourselves and the things around us, and then using that energy to shape our spells. The more powerful the spell, the more energy you need to channel before you can cast it. That is always the trade-off with channelling, the more powerful the spell, the longer it takes to cast. Many a channeller has been killed by a less powerful spell than the one he was trying to finish.”

Mitchell was focusing so intently on the candle, he found it difficult to follow Maragon’s words.

‘Remain calm. Feel for it’s magickal energy. It’s just like we have been doing for the last few months, but this time we are actually going to try and use the energy.’

“The magickal energy in each object is different, and useful for different things. The energy within your wooden bedroom door is useful for casting nature spells because of the solid wood in its construction. But it is also useful for casting teleportation spells because it is a door from one place to another. An objects nature and its purpose both influence the magickal energy a wizard may draw from it.”

“The candle is useful for channelling light, heat or even divination spells based on sight. I want you to draw its energy to you and create an orb of light which lights up the room much more brightly than the candle does now.”

‘I can feel it. There is an energy both within the candle, and in the flame flickering at the end. The energy in the candle is harder to feel, but the energy in the flame is easy, almost as if its eager to be used.’

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“A wizard can cast simple spells using only the magickal energies within his own body and the area around him, and as he gets more skilled, so to does the power of spells he can fuel this way. But this is tiring. A good wizard will always try to source as much of the power for his spells as possible from components around him, reducing the amount of his own precious reserves he consumes with each spell.”

“In this case, with your current level of skill, you will find that any amount of channelling will be quite draining. But the more of the spell you let the candle power the less exhausting it will be. Take a little and the candle will still burn. Take a lot and the flame will be snuffed out. Take it all and the candle will be consumed entirely. You will not need enough energy to take it all, and in fact drawing in that much energy could be dangerous at your level of control.”

‘I don’t want to kill the flame. Show control of magick by only drawing a small amount to light up the room.‘

Mitchell focused on the candle and tried to pull the energy from there. But it would not come. It was like a light that was behind a locked door. He could see it through the cracks around the door, but could not access it. After a few more moments of that he changed plan.

‘OK. Let’s go for the easier source. But don’t kill the flame.’

The energy from the flame was totally different. As Mitchell tried to draw energy towards himself, he could imagine an almost invisible tendril connecting the flame to him, and more accurately, to the centre of his being. Rather than resisting him as the candle itself had, the energy from the flame almost rushed up the tendril towards him. The flame flickered and for a brief moment, looked like it may go out.

‘Careful imbecile. Draw it slowly.’

With patience Mitchell willed the energy to come at a slower rate. He found he could attune himself to the flame, and he could feel how much energy the flame was producing. With that attunement, he could draw just enough energy to keep the flame going, while slowly building up energy around him to use in the channelling of his spell. The flame barely wavered now as he drew in its power.

Maragon observed closely. He had cast a basic enchantment, allowing him to detect the magickal energies within the room. This spell not only revealed fluctuations in these energies but also identified the specific types of magickal forces at play. This enhanced perception enabled him to monitor Mitchell's progress closely, choosing not to intervene verbally. It would offer a richer teaching experience to discuss the endeavour once it concluded.

‘OK, we are accumulating fire essence now. It is only a small amount, but I can feel the warmth building within me. First part is done. It is time to cast the spell which turns this into light.’

‘It is just like all the times Maragon channelled the energy and allowed me to tap into it to cast this same spell. It is no different to that. Stay calm. And stop holding your breathe. Passing out will not impress anyone.’

Mitchell took a few deep breaths to settle himself. He then started making the meticulous gestures and reciting the incantations required for the light spell. Casting magick, as a wizard anyway, was an art of precision. Every movement and uttered word played a pivotal role in transforming the channelled energy into a manifested spell.

"Focus, Mitchell. Perfect execution in both verbal and physical elements of the spell culminates in a more robust spell-weave. Though it might not seem crucial now, other magic users could attempt to counter or disrupt your spells. The more impeccable the weave, the more formidable it becomes to them," counselled Maragon

Get any part of the spell majorly wrong and the spell would fail. Even minor errors or lapses in concentration and the energy would not convert as quickly, requiring the caster to repeat certain sections of the spell. Failing to repeat the right sections quickly enough, and your spell would burst and fall apart. Usually the collapse of a spell was harmless, but Maragon had warned if you channel too much energy, the results could be spectacular and most certainly dangerous.

“Increase the spacing between your first and second fingers on your left hand. That will make it easy to push energy into the gap. And when you form your circles with your fingers, make it a tight circle for elemental magick like this, but a soft circle is better for divination.”

With a minimum of even minor errors, the spell took shape. Mitchell was aware that a small amount of light was now glowing in the air around his skin, a signature that would tell others who understood magick that he was casting. With a final uttering of the words, “Ego, Lux Creo,” Mitchell felt the energy he was gathering coalesce and an orb of light leapt from his hand and hovered about halfway between floor and roof. From it a strong white glow filled the room. Much brighter than the room had been before.

Mitchell could not help himself and grinned in amazement and awe at what he had done. After a few moments he remembered the candle and looked down to it, still grasped in his left hand. The flame burned exactly as it had before.

“Congratulations Mitchell! You have completed your very first enchantment.”

Maragon was a hard master, but Mitchell could feel the pride and affection in his voice.