by Cale Plamann
“How do my attributes influence spellcasting anyway?” Micah asked, eager to try and distract Gustav from his struggles with implementing his introductory spells.
“Body and Agility,” Borcher sniffed dismissively. “They barely matter. True, they’ll improve your hit points and lend you the coordination you need to avoid getting struck in combat, but if you’re close enough for that to be a concern, you’ve already screwed things up beyond repair.
“Now, Spirit,” the old man continued, the gleam from their first meeting returning to his eyes. “Spirit is straightforward on paper. It increases your total mana. Each of your three mana pools is determined by a math equation. Namely, your level multiplied by your Spirit with that result multiplied by another number determined by your class. Then you add a flat amount equal to twice the attunement associated with that mana pool.”
“That doesn’t seem fair,” Micah said, frowning. “That would just mean that rich people have more mana than the rest of us, especially at lower levels.”
“Good!” The instructor grinned at him. “I knew you were smarter than your brother. You’re completely right. It isn’t fair. The heir to a noble house might have two or even three hundred attunement in each pool, giving them hundreds of mana at first or second level. That means that they can practice their entry level spells time and time again, gaining a number of skill levels without even having to encounter a beast or monster.”
“How could Luxos let that happen?” Micah asked in confusion. “His priests always preach that he’s created the optimal society for us. That doesn’t seem all that ideal to me.”
“Ideal according to whom?” Borcher chuckled. “The Church might play coy with ideas like equality and fairness, but in my sixty-eight years on Karell, I’ve seen nothing in their holy texts to actually show that Luxos believes in such things. No, I think the god is very satisfied with the present order. We don’t live in a fair world, Silver. The quicker you recognize that and move on, the sooner you’ll be able to progress as an adventurer.”
“What about the Mind attribute?” Micah’s brow furrowed into a slight frown as he tried to make sense of his instructor's hypotheses.
“That’s a little more complicated,” Gustav replied. “The Mind attribute helps with a lot of little things such as learning new spells and research. For day-to-day spellcasting, it more or less functions like extra spell levels. It reduces the spell’s mana cost while increasing its effectiveness.”
“What do you mean by research?” Micah asked. “I heard you talking about it before, but don’t we just earn spells from dungeons or buy them from other spellcasters? What is there to research?”
“Silver.” Borcher clicked his tongue, smiling as he shook his head. “Don’t think I don’t realize that you’re trying to distract me. It won’t work. Luckily for you, research is a weakness of mine. I’ll answer this last question of yours, and then you’re casting Air Knife on a training dummy. No more delays.”
Gustav stood up and picked up a piece of chalk before walking to the room’s blackboard. He wrote down three headings labeled Rituals, Enchantments, and Spell Development. Turning around, he smiled at Micah once again.
“Magic takes two major forms.” The instructor’s breathy voice became more formal as he began his lecture. “The first is what most are familiar with. Magic provided by the gods in the form of spells, martial arts, or blessings. Many aren’t aware that there is another form of magic. Ritual magic and enchantments don’t really use the system provided to us by the gods.
“Each casting needs to be meticulously researched,” Gustav continued, writing on the blackboard as he spoke. “That doesn’t mean once. Even if you’ve used a ritual or enchantment twenty times in the past, each new casting requires you to update it. You need to account for the season, the position of various celestial bodies, and other variables, such as barometric pressure and your source of power. This is partially a complex equation; most books on ritual magic contain intricate tables detailing how the magic is influenced by various outside events, but there is also the question of what variables will matter to the casting.”
“That is the bulk of your research.” Micah winced as Gustav’s chalk squeaked and scratched against the board while he spoke. “Checking reference books to see how your predecessors handled similar experiments in the past takes time. A lot of time.”
Gustav turned back around, a gigantic grin on his face. He leaned forward against the lectern, his eyes trained on Micah in the otherwise empty study room.
“The best part is”—the instructor winked at him—“sometimes the references are wrong. It’s easy to miss a detail if it's obscure enough. Maybe there’s a comet that only approaches Karell once every fifty years that changes the reagents used in a ritual. That isn’t the sort of thing that’s likely to be recorded, and if it is, it would only be in the most obscure of records. That’s the fun of it—each and every time you perform a ritual, you run the risk that you overlooked something. Sometimes the casting just fails. Others? It’s not unheard of for ritual casters to be sucked into a screaming void or turned into a fine dust by their own rituals.”
“Normal spells don’t do that, right?” Micah asked hurriedly, glancing at the textbook in front of him in concern.
“No,” Gustav replied dismissively. “Magic that works through your affinities and status screen is tame. It can be cast quickly and repetitively without risking anything beyond the mana required to finish the spell. If you fail, you lose nothing more than your dignity and whatever you invested in the spell.
“On the other hand”—Gustav grimaced slightly before writing the word “limited” under Spell Development on the chalkboard—“traditional magic comes with major limitations. You must power the spells with your own mana rather than the life force and anima of a sacrifice, and those mana costs can become prohibitive. For example, right now, I am only teaching you tier-one spells. I hope within a couple of months to bring you to the point that you can use tier-two spells, but it will likely be a year before you are ready for tier three. As for tier four? You will need to earn many levels before you have the mana to even attempt them.
“In addition to mana costs,” the instructor continued, writing the words “slow” and “not for combat” under the Ritual Magic category, “traditional magic has severe limitations based upon affinity. Primal, Wood, Fire, Earth, Water, and Air magic all do very different things, and there is a wide range of effects that you as the caster might want that don’t fit into any of those categories. That’s where ritual magic comes in. Each casting might take days to research and five or more minutes to cast, but with enough effort, you can theoretically do anything you want.
“Your level doesn’t even matter.” Gustav wheeled around, a manic glint in his eyes. “The energy for the ritual comes from the sacrifice of life force, usually a pig, goat, or particularly hardy plant. With enough preparation and knowledge, the very power of the Sixteen could be in your hands.”
“What about enchantments?” Micah asked, enraptured despite himself by the instructor’s enthusiasm.
“Oh.” Borcher shook his head, wisps of white hair fluttering back and forth. “You’re trying to get me worked up to get out of practice, aren’t you? Enchantments are like rituals, but you imbue the power into an object. With the proper ritual inscriptions, an enchanter can use life energy to create a sword sharper than normal, a shield that moves toward incoming blows, or a monocle that lets you see in the dark. The same principles of research and preparation, irrespective of the caster’s level, apply.
“Now, Silver.” Gustav stepped around the lectern and waved a hand, his fingers twirling briefly while he muttered a handful of words. “Let me see your mastery of the Air Knife spell.”
A figure made of soil quickly grew from a bin in the corner of the room, where loose dirt was kept on hand for the purpose of practicing Earth magic. Unsteadily, it stepped out of the container and into the center of the room between the le
ctern and the student seats.
“Quit dawdling.” Gustav waved Micah down. “The only way you’re going to learn is by trying.”
Reluctantly, Micah walked to the front of the room, trying to replay the various hand motions and words to the spell in his head. Taking a deep breath, he looked to Borcher, who simply nodded at him.
He began moving his hands, the characteristic waves and flutters of Air magic defining the spells motions. The words spilled from his lips, the words pronounced awkwardly, their cadence stuttering and wrong.
For a second, it almost worked. Micah could feel the energy swelling up inside his chest. The air in between his hands swirled and compressed, forming a visible distortion in the shape of a ball before it began flattening into the shape of the titular knife.
Then, like the pop of a soap bubble, the spell shattered. The words fell dead from Micah’s lips and the energy dissipated. He glanced to Gustav, embarrassment in his eyes.
“Good, good!” The instructor clapped his hands together. “That was one of the best preliminary attempts I’ve seen. No one casts a spell on their first try. Give it a week and I’ll have you slinging Air magic with the best of them, Silver. You have the foundation. All that’s left is practice.”
5
Newbie
“Put some effort into it, Silver!” Cornell Dover, the leader of Lancer combat team “D,” screamed at Micah. “I need this man up, in action, and drawing the monsters’ attention in thirty seconds, or the front line is going to collapse and we’re going to be neck deep in Charnel Horrors!”
Micah’s hands were covered in blood, his heart racing, as he literally shoved his left hand into the wound, grasping a handful of torn muscle fiber and mouthing the words to Augmented Mending from the Ageless Folio that he held in his right hand. The muscles writhed and twisted like a cluster of snakes as they sought each other out and began reconnecting.
Then Micah ran out of Moon mana. Frantically, he switched to Night mana, but it felt like he was knee-deep in mud. Everything was slow, barely functional as the mismatches between the mana and the spell impeded him at every turn. The muscles wove together, making tenuous connections under his hand and growing stronger.
An arrow whistled past Micah’s face, but he ignored it, knowing that he didn’t have enough mana to complete the spells if he let himself be distracted. Distantly, he heard the arrow clatter against a wall behind him.
Pulling his hand out of the wound and propping the Folio into his armpit, Micah frantically began stitching the skin back together with the copper needle and thread he kept in a pouch at his waist. As soon as the hasty sewing job was done, Micah cast Augmented Mending once again, switching to Sun mana to avoid depleting his almost-exhausted reserves of Night mana.
The spell took and the wound closed, leaving nothing behind but an angry reddish-purple line. Micah pursed his lips. With more skill in Augmented Mending, he’d be able to perform an operation like this without having to manually manipulate the injured tissue or field-suture a wounded comrade. One day, he’d be able to cast the spell without leaving a scar at all.
The pig he was clutching onto squealed and ran away. Exhausted from stress and mana use, Micah stood up, still covered in its blood, as Cornell walked over to him nodding his head slowly.
“Not bad, Silver. I won’t even have to deduct the cost of the pig out of your pay.” The team leader threw him a wet towel. “Augmented Mending is a second-tier spell and you were able to cast it on a seriously injured target twice within thirty seconds. I’d still like you to get the casting time down on it, but you’ll do for an emergency healer for now. Hamstring wounds like that can get really nasty if someone doesn’t patch them up right away.”
“Was the arrow really necessary?” Micah replied, wiping the blood from his hands and tunic. “The exercise was bad enough without you trying to scare the life out of me.”
“That’s why you need to get the casting time down, son.” Cornell chuckled, walking over to a weapon rack on the nearby wall of the training room. “The exam says that I’m supposed to miss you with an arrow at twenty seconds. In combat, nothing is going to just sit there while you get a warrior back in the fight. They’re going to target you.”
“I passed, though, right?” Micah asked, trying to keep the weariness from his voice.
Cornell had made him do healing drills five days out of every ten, but they were by far his least favorite. Mending could cure bruises and abrasions, but to train in Augmented Mending, there was no other option but to… procure injured animals for Micah to heal. Usually, that meant Cornell surprising him in the middle of another activity, such as spear practice, with an animal that he would promptly injure in front of Micah, forcing him to stop what he was doing and heal it on the spot.
It was good practice; Micah was sure of that. In three months, his Spellcasting skill had risen to 5 and his skill in Mending and Augmented Mending had followed suit. Still, Micah longed for the day when Cornell certified him ready to join a combat team and he could leave the constant and grinding training schedule behind him.
“Yes, you did,” Cornell replied with a smile, throwing him a spear. “You already know Gale, Air Knife, and Wind Shield. Gustav has certified you as an aeromancer, and with that test, you’re certified as a healer. Now we just need to get you up to snuff with the spear and you’ll be cleared for field work.”
“Are you sure?” Micah caught the spear, glancing down at it dubiously. “I’m awfully worn out after all that spellcasting. I’m not sure I’ll be all that useful right now.”
“You know the rules.” Cornell shot him a wink. “Make it five minutes without letting me hit you, or hit me once and you win.”
“You’re level 16, Cornell.” Micah tested the pliability of the spear before taking up a guard stance. “There’s no way I’ll be able to even score one hit on you in a fair fight.”
“Simple advice, then.” Cornell twirled his spear. “Don’t fight fair.”
The rest of the afternoon was a bruising blur of constant fighting and Micah using the Wood spell Refresh to restore both of their stamina. Finally, for the first time in the hundred-plus spars spread out over the preceding three months, Micah managed to tag Cornell on the forearm with the side of his spear. Micah wasn’t sure if the strike was luck, skill, or just Cornell deciding it was time for him to graduate. Cheerfully, the huge black man proclaimed his training over and told Micah to hit the sack early because he'd be teamed with a “newbie squad” the following day.
Lying down, Micah opened his status screen to take in the previous three months’ worth of work.
Micah Silver
Age 16
Class/Level Wizard 1
XP 0/50
HP 10/10
Attributes
Body 5, Agility 5, Mind 9, Spirit 8
Attunement
Moon 8, Sun 3, Night 5
Mana
Moon 5/16, Sun 4/6, Night 1/8
Affinities
Time 10
Wood 6
Tier I - Refresh 3, Mending 3
Tier II - Augmented Mending 2
Air 5
Tier I - Gale 2, Air Knife 3
Tier II - Wind Shield 1
Blessings
Mythic Blessing of Mursa - Blessed Return, Ageless Folio
Skills
Anatomy 2
Fishing 1
Herbalism 1
Librarian 3
Spear 3
Spellcasting 5
His attunement gains were modest, but that wasn’t surprising. The Lancers didn’t let him leave their guild hall to actually earn anything. Really, only the three points of Moon attunement were by his own hand.
It shouldn’t have surprised him that Mursa would award his magical achievements with attunement; one for learning his first spell and one for each second-tier spell. According to Gustav, his magic instructor, that attunement would be limited to the first higher-tier spell per tier per affinity. Unfor
tunately, he wouldn’t just be able to earn attunement by learning multiple higher-tier spells in the same field.
As for the point of Night and Sun attunement? Those were gifts from the guild. Loans, he was told. As a caster, they wanted to make sure he had enough mana to train with, but a full point of attunement was incredibly valuable. He’d need to pay those back as soon as possible or their interest would likely bankrupt him.
His spells were simple but useful. As for the Wood spells, Refresh cost very little mana but allowed him to restore stamina to a tired warrior, allowing them to retain their focus and continue fighting at peak efficiency. Mending healed bruises, sprains, and abrasions for a minor mana cost. Augmented Mending, however, was the spell he was proudest of. It was still at a low level, but for a hefty price in mana, he could close up even fatal wounds in a matter of seconds. Even without the other abilities, that spell on its own would make him a valuable addition to almost any adventuring party.
The Air spells weren’t quite as impressive, but they still made Micah a useful addition to a combat team. Gale simply launched a gust of high-speed wind that could knock a target off balance, trigger a trap, or otherwise push something at a distance. Air Knife was a much more useful spell, allowing him to fire a small blade of compressed air to slash at a foe. It didn’t do much to heavily armored foes, but a healer should be avoiding them anyway. Wind Shield was a useful but unimpressive spell. Micah could create a sphere of air that would deflect incoming arrows and gaseous attacks. According to Gustav, it was incredibly useful as a shield against archers, poisoners, and all manner of wispy or ethereal foes, but it just didn’t seem essential to Micah.
Other than his increases in magic, Micah had already grown to appreciate the power of the Folio. Despite frequent bruising practice, his skill level in Spears had only grown by a point. In that same time, he’d learned Anatomy and Herbalism as part of his studies as a healer and gained 3 points in Spellcasting. Despite his earlier doubts about the blessing, Gustav was lavish in his praise over the speed with which Micah learned abilities when he had access to the Folio.