Ancient Magic of Creation, otherwise known as Divine Transmutation. A ritual based rune type magic whispered to be the language of the gods.

One of the few magic types that is widely acknowledged to have a direct connection to the divines.

In theory, it is capable of creating anything. While in reality, the magic consumes so much mana to create the simplest of things, that it has never actually been utilised in any meaningful way outside of the realm of the divines.

Aside from that, the magic runes which allow one to wield such power are extremely complicated and, above all, are considered closely guarded secrets by the precious few magical organisations that were old- and prestigious enough to have gathered some of the working runes.

It is true that the holy syllables hold little to no practical value, but they are still hunted zealously by various religious organisations solely because of their connection to the divines. Priests of various religions also believe that the runes can be used to communicate with the gods.

Naturally, there are also those that intend to learn from the magic the runes doubtlessly contain, hoping to further their own magical understanding.

The language of the gods as of today still remains to be incomplete.

Extract from the Encyclopedia of Magic. Assembled and published by the Red Tower under the leadership of Archmage Thuridan.

~oOo~

I sat down next to the barely blinking flames of one of our campfires. Light streaks of smoke were gently billowing from the remaining cinders.

Both my body and soul felt drained as I once again disconnected my magic from the golem. It was a serious strain to use that thing. My shoulders sagged as a long sigh escaped my chest.

What a day this was…

Sitting there, taking deep breaths, I attempted to relax and clear my mind of today’s turmoil, only to be distracted by the itching sensations all over my body.

I glanced down, grimacing as I saw in the dim light of the dieing fire how ragged and dirty my recently washed clothes have become.

It seemed ludicrous to be annoyed by such things as being dirty after such a day. Yet, that was exactly what I was feeling right now. Not that I could do anything about it in these conditions.

I attempted to scrub off some of the mud and dust from my black pants with my fingers, and succeeded in a measure. Yet I soon decided to stop the futile attempt, as the results were not worth the effort.

The mood was depressing around the campsite. The previously jovial and excited conversations following our victory have long since faded into nothingness. Giving way to the sober reality of loss and grief.

Only the occasional whispers and the pained grunts of the injured broke the silence of the cave.

I took one last look at my thin and feminine arms and legs. Those pristine white fingers… now were covered in grime and blood. Yet, the gentle curves of the limbs kept giving off a sense of soft flexibility. Alas, all those subtle differences and curves were just at the wrong places compared to what I was used to.

The sight was still disturbing to me.

Especially when I allowed myself the luxury to think about it.

No matter how I tried to come to peace with this situation, it was not something one can so simply accept. This was not my body, but at the same time, it was. It was created specifically for me. Therefore, it’s not like I stole it from someone, like it often happened in one of those stories I read back in the hospital…

I opened and closed my thin fingers while staring at the repetitive movement, deeply lost in my thoughts.

I was unwilling to doubt the decisions of a God, who I have personally met and saw some of his dimensions of power. Which so clearly has regarded the planes of life and death.

I have often wondered about this question back on Earth. The question of what made a God into an actual God. Was it the belief that people put into such entities? Or was it the unusually high ethical sensitivity that it introduced us to?

Some believed that gods were created by men, and therefore they were a manifestation of belief. Which meant that gods were not actually immortal, and they died just like men did. Look at the ancient greek gods, for example, or the egyptian ones.

All those gods have died with the last people who believed in them. Even in the time of their existence, those gods were bound by their human nature, and often committed human mistakes.

Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author.

Alas, with some of our modern religions, this was a lot harder and more complicated question to contemplate.

I shook my head as a stretched out yawn broke loose from my throat.

~oOo~

By the words of Emrum, bless the paragons for their mercy.

The next two days went by in a rush.

I thought, while crashing down on my sleeping bag. I was utterly spent, already feeling the distant pulsating headache which has nested itself into the back of my head and seemed to become my constant companion these days.

The now way too familiar sign of mana deprivation.

I was constantly low on mana, being forced to use it up every time some of it gathered back.

Alas, it was over now. We have closed the last of the unnecessary entrances into the new outpost. We eventually did it.

A long relieved exhale left my mouth as I stretched out on my sleeping bag. This great sense of accomplishment managing to brighten my mood against all my weariness.

Between closing the tunnels, and occasionally healing the injured, my mana was being drained quicker than I could say. Oh, hell no. I didn’t mind it, though; it had to be done, and it was finally done. There were no more heavily injured dwarfs waiting for my assistance, nor tunnels that had to be buried.

The rest will be handled by the dwarfs, which means I have nothing else to do now or tomorrow.

I grimaced, feeling something stuck under my back. It was no wonder I practically dropped on the sleeping bag with my fool gear on.

I groaned and turned over to my belly, as the discomfort was too much to ignore. Only to be reminded why I recently forgone sleeping on my stomach entirely as now it was my chest… well, breasts that felt uncomfortable.

After another burst of frustration and some effort, I rolled over to my side, finding an acceptable compromise.

I sighed in satisfaction when I finally found myself in a reasonably comfortable position.

Yet, my mind was not ready to rest, it seems. My memories of the last two days danced before me between the narrow line that differentiated sleep from consciousness.

Reliving those memories, I had but a single thought.

We were lucky…

After the battle with the goblins, we weren’t bothered by them again. A reasonable choice on their part, I would say since the first defeat proved quite devastating and my golem was still standing in front of the main entrance to our new outpost.

Of course, our scouts have spotted many goblin scouts, but there was no sign of their army, meaning that they didn’t intend to attack as, not yet at least.

With my help, the dwarfs have managed to reinforce the outpost, and while it lacked the comforts of the other outpost, it was reasonably safe.

They have even installed two metal doors, closing off the inner caves for good.

Of course, these metal doors were not as powerful as the ones set up in the other outpost, not much of a surprise, since these were brought along by the dwarfs while being disassembled in smaller parts and only put together recently.

Seeing this, my curiosity was piqued, and I asked Emrum how they intend to transport those other doors here, to which he chuckled at me good-naturedly.

Then he grabbed me by my wrist and pulled me to an empty section of the inner caves. Where he pointed at the rocky wall that was filled with dark grey spots glinting in the torchlight, with the occasional rust like discoloration.

Iron veins, he told me.

Then explained that those doors are not brought into the deep roads. Because of their weight and the difficult terrain here. Instead, the iron is mined in the outposts or near them, and forged right on the spot. There will be a smithy here, and a mine as well, set up inside that very chamber.

First, however, we have to secure the road between the two outposts. And for that, we will have to get rid of that goblin nest.

We have already sent men to report back of our success. First to the main outpost, and from then the news will travel back to the kingdom through the caravans. In the best-case scenario, we will receive a new company of dwarfs as reinforcement, but at the very least, more soldiers and new equipment.

Our forces will be reinforced in a few weeks.

With those happy thoughts lingering in my mind, I eventually closed my eyes and fell asleep.

~oOo~

Selora’s personal notes on magic.

1. Light creation, no incantation.

2. Light shield, no incantation.

3. Telekinesis, no incantation.

4. Healing touch: “By the power of light, entrusted upon me through my holy patron. I Selora command thy wound, heal!”

5. Lightning blast: “Ancient storms of the ethereal planes, I Selora servant of creation, summon thy power to eradicate my foe!”

6. Earth spike forest: “I call forth the power that laid dormant since ancient times. Awaken now, the hour is due to unleash your righteous fury. I, Selora, servant of creation, shall witness thy inexorable rage!”

7. Firestorm: “Blazing spirit of hellfire, molten fury and dragon storm. Hear my woe and obey my command! Burn the darkness which opposes creation. Let their ash scatter through thy baleful wind. By the name of Axis, God of creation, I Selora, Witch of the Silver River, open thy gates of hell!”

8. Earth wall: “Heed my call and come forth, sleeping powers, hidden beneath my feet. I, Selora, servant of creation, demand your obedience, raise!”

9. Pyroblast: “Fire of the earth, with the power to shatter mountains and blacken the skys. Come forth now, awaken your brightest glory! For I, Selora, servant of creation, demand your obedience!”

10. Golem summoning: “From mountain to rock, from rock to pebble, from pebble to sand and sand to mud. The world’s foundation! Earth is the one that carries all life on its rigid back. The one which we trample, the one that we use and the one that shall shake the world anew. Pray, pray that its ancient anger may never spark with blind fury.”

11. Storm summoning:

12. Ancient magic of creation: rune drawing

13. Blood magic