CHAPTER 64: SPELLFOCUS

After finishing the accord ceremony before the grand and holy scale, Soren and the others stepped back out into the warm Yarian sun. The excitement within his stomach had bubbled and grown enough for him to wear a smile—He couldn’t wait to finally begin his magus journey.

According to Cassia, a spellfocus was an item meant for channeling anima within one’s own Soul Realm. It was an item most apprentice magi needed. He still didn’t know the full details surrounding it, but it won’t be long before he learned. He turned to Cassia who was next to him to ask her more about it, when his mood shattered.

Even though she was fairly easy to annoy, the face she was showing right now…

“You good?” He asked hesitantly.

Cassia hovered over the crowd as they descended the steps from the church. Her eyes were full of sadness, but also anger.

“Those damn greedy priests! How dare they charge 200 Lorins!”

Nicholas, who was standing next to her, shook his head. “Watch your words, Lady Cassia.”

“But Nich—”

“No buts,” he retorted. “Remember your place. Our guild is still technically a criminal organization operating illegally. The Brilliant World Church might not discriminate against people’s backgrounds, but that doesn’t mean we can negotiate with them evenly. Even if they cheat us of money, we can do nothing but stay silent. To them, it is nothing more than another business affair that honors the graces of the Gold-Giver.”

He walked ahead of both Soren and Cassia who’s dragon wings had slumped slightly.

“Always remember our Mistress’ goal. Small losses here and there do not matter much.”

Soren glanced back at the church, its gleaming pillars and golden ornamentations. The statues lining every marble step leading to the grand cathedral within. All of it seemed so holy and surreal, unlike the image they portray. No wonder Tina has such a bad impression about them…

And yet, he himself couldn’t really find fault in their ways. In fact, he found it fascinating. A religion that valued the status, wealth and success of the individual over the harmony, unity and humbleness of society as a whole.

All the dirtbags of Earth would probably flock to this religion like sheep. He chuckled to himself as he imagined his own abusive and gambling addicted father in a Brilliant World Church priest gown, blessing groups of beggars on their way to gamble their coins away. Heck, judging by his greed, he’d probably be appointed as their pope, if they had such a system in place.

Speaking of which, did they even have a pope? He didn’t know how exactly Celestine, and for the most part, Aellora in general, was structured politically.

Something else to research later, I guess.

He swiftly followed behind Nicholas and Cassia who was still somewhat moody from getting fleeced by the church.

“You said I will need to get a spellfocus, correct? Is there any store you have in mind?”

Cassia glanced back at him and thought for a second. “Probably to that old man’s place… I hate his guts but he’s probably the best option in town…”

“Gunther’s?” Nicholas questioned and Cassia nodded in response.

Soren didn’t say anything for a while longer as they continued crossing the countless crowded streets. On more than one occasion, he wanted to stop by a nearby stall to glance at the items being sold. There were countless food vendors as well, even though he had only just eaten breakfast, he couldn’t help but salivate at the countless scents. Sadly, Cassia and Nicholas weren’t stopping anytime soon. He reluctantly followed behind them.

All of a sudden, a shadow appeared from the corner of his eye—one that felt familiar. He turned swiftly to where he noticed it. Out in the distance, past the swarm of pedestrians leaving for work and the countless street stalls showcasing their products, a hooded man appeared. He was staring back at him, as if aware that Soren would notice him. Before he could piece anything together, the figure vanished, disappearing in between the passing civilians.

“Who… Was that?..” Soren mumbled. He shook his head and dashed to catch up to Nicholas and Cassia.

----------------------------------------

It took about an hour before they finally reached the store Cassia was talking about. Squeezed in between two alleyways and behind a restaurant, a shabby wooden door reflected in Soren’s eyes. Above it, a wooden sign: “The Last Wager.”

This narrative has been purloined without the author's approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.

Cassia, who was back to walking normally again, knocked on the door twice. Nicholas stood next to her, waiting for a response.

Just when he was about to ask them to knock again, the door creaked open, sending dust flying everywhere. He squinted his eyes—beneath the veil of darkness, a pair of eyes greeted them. “What do you want?”

Cassia clicked her tongue, “Stop trying to act mysterious, old fart.”

The man’s eyes widened as he flung the door open, “Cassia!?” He went in for a hug, much to her embarrassment. Nicholas lowered his top hat and nodded at him, “Greetings, Gunther.”

“Come in, come in!” He signalled for them to enter. Soren took note of his appearance, it was an old man with a grey beard that reached down to his feet. He wore a black robe that covered most of his features. The old man stared back at Soren and squinted. “Who are you, young man?”

He bowed, “The name’s Soren Andersen. A new member of Cassia’s guild.”

Cassia, who had already entered inside, nodded at Gunther. The old man looked back at Soren and smiled, “Welcome in then, lad!” The man wrapped his arm around his shoulder before he could notice—Soren immediately gagged. The man’s breath felt like a mixture of beer and vinegar that’s been fermented in rat poison. He did his best to breathe from his mouth to avoid the scent.

The old man shoved Soren inside with a laugh, “Stop being so hesitant!”

Rubbing his shoulders, Soren took in the view from within the decrepit old hut. Tall wooden shelves lined the aisles, with a musty cashier’s counter was positioned to the side. A dirty hookah was placed on it with low smoke billowing from its pipe. So that’s where this smell is coming from, Soren thought.

Clogging his nose even more, he glanced at Nicholas who was unbothered. “This is a magus store?” He whispered to him but Nicholas ignored it.

Cassia on the other hand kept glaring at Gunther—her anger was clearly boiling over. The old man walked up to the cashier’s counter and began drawing from the hookah pipe. “So,” he said as smoke bellowed from his mouth. “What do you guys need?”

Cassia shook her head—her arms crossed. “Let’s keep catching up for later. This guy here needs a spellfocus. He still hasn’t unlocked his first Channel of Willpower, so it needs to be extremely stable and slow. Also, his affinities are still unknown so keep it neutral.”

The old man nodded, “I see, I see… Then peruse around! Find what you need! Ima go drink.” He turned around and left toward the back of the store. Seeing this, Cassia sighed and glanced at Soren, “Let’s go,” she ordered. She led him toward the nearby aisle while Nicholas stood by the entrance.

“Say,” he questioned. “It seemed like you were pretty close to that old man.”

Cassia nodded, “He used to be somewhat of a father figure of mine. Some twenty years ago before he began drinking away his sorrows and hiding out here for no one to see. Except for the occasional aspiring magus looking to destroy their own futures.” She pointed at the nearby items on the shelf, “See these over here? All of them are fakes. This whole shop is nothing but a sham.”

He nodded along, but one part of her explanation stuck around. 20 years ago, he thought to himself but decided not to ask.

“Ah, here it is,” Cassia’s voice ruptured his string of thoughts. She pointed at an orange crystal dangling from a rope. “This will do.”

Soren glanced at the item she had shown him closely. It looked fairly normal to him—well, as normal as it could be in this messed up fantasy world. He picked it up slowly and frowned. “This is a spellfocus? How am I supposed to use it?”

Cassia nodded. “Expand your Soul Realm and focus it all into the crystal.”

Soren did as he was bid. Taking a deep breath, he channeled his thoughts into the crystal with his Soul Realm active.

“Now I want you to picture any image in your mind.”

Once again, he listened to her instructions. What should I imagine, he thought. The first thing that came to mind was a knight chess piece. Instantly, the image of its frame and chiseled horse head appeared in front of him. He took a step back in shock.

“Huh?!”

Cassia smiled. “I can’t exactly see what you imagined since your Soul Realm is invisible to me. But I assume something projected itself? I can tell that your anima has stirred in a uniform way.”

Soren nodded.

“That is what a spellfocus does,” she answered. “It has the ability to project your thoughts more cleanly inside your Soul Realm. From your explorations within the Echo of Mind, you should have seen how chaotic it can become. This will only get worse if you become a combat magi. The number of things you’ll need to keep track of at the same time will increase, and so, your Echo of Mind will become even more tempestuous.”

Soren deactivated his Soul Realm. “So it's morphing my anima based on my thoughts?”

“Correct,” she nodded. “That crystal is something we magi like to call, a Philosopher's Stone. We don’t actually know the origins of the name—it's something an explorer coined based on information he found in the labyrinths. Either way, it will prove immensely useful to you, especially since you’re still a beginner. Imagining spellforms without a spellfocus is something only a 3rd Circle magus or above could do.”

Soren nodded, but the name of the crystal struck him as odd. Isn’t there a similar legend on Earth about such an item? He didn’t know if they were connected or not—the philosopher’s stones he had heard about on Earth were mostly known for turning things to gold and whatnot.

I guess similarities between different worlds do exist, he thought.