by Steven Drake
"Well, we're not really doing anything now," Jerris protested. "You could at least explain it to me as we travel."
"I suppose it couldn't hurt," the shade said. "You seem to have been taught so little about anything to this point, a bit of simple education would do you good. I'm not much of a teacher, so why don't you just ask me what you want to know, and I'll answer as best I can."
"Well, maybe this is a bit basic, but how do you do it?" Jerris asked. "I mean like when you collapsed the wall and broke those bars at the Duke’s castle, or when you hurled those ice shards at the gloom crawler."
Darien paused for a long while. He'd never heard it put quite so bluntly, so he was unprepared to answer such a basic question. Finally, he decided to ask his own question instead. "Well, how did you knock down those two men in the Inn the night we met?"
"I… guess I don't really know," Jerris answered as a look of befuddlement appeared on his face. "Mother always told me the talisman would protect me if I took it in hand and focused my mind on it, so I just grabbed the talisman and it just happened. I didn't really do it on purpose."
"An honest answer, and a correct one," the reluctant teacher complimented the eager pupil. "Magic is exactly like that. It is not a question of knowledge, like history, geography, or alchemy. Anyone can learn those. Magic is entirely different. You either can do it or you cannot. It is based upon the power of your mind to shape the world around you. When you become proficient, you simply think it, and it happens, like walking or standing up."
"That doesn't make any sense at all," Jerris said. "I wasn't thinking anything except how much I wanted to get away when I knocked those men down."
"Yes, exactly," Darien said. "Your desire to escape was manifested as the burst of power that knocked down your foes. It was a primal, unfocused form of magic, a simple force pushing outward. It's often seen in children with magical talent, and used to identify candidates for apprenticeship to various mage orders. That talent is inborn. You either have it or you don't. There's no way to teach magic to someone that doesn't have the gift."
"So do I have the gift? Or is it just the talisman?"
"It is believed that all elves possess innate magical abilities. The starstones just respond to it, focus it, and magnify it.”
"I see. So I could have done that without the stone then?"
"Well, yes and no," Darien said. "You probably could have manifested some sort of magic with the proper prompting, or were the situation desperate enough, but the stone probably made it easier, and magnified the actual force considerably, so instead of just pushing them away, it knocked them several feet through the air."
"So, what is magic? That force that knocked them away. What's it made of? Is it just wind?"
"No, it isn't wind," Darien leaned back and laughed aloud. "Magic is ... well, magic is magic, sort of like fire is fire. It's not something that lends itself to being defined in words. Still, the way it was first explained to me, magic is the energy that binds all things in the world together.”
"Now I really don't understand," the confused lad complained. "What's that supposed to mean? It sounds like a bunch of nonsense."
"Does it?" Darien feigned the question and continued. "Well, let me explain it this way. Our world of Terrallien possesses a dual nature. It has two parts, each existing together, and each having profound effects upon the other. The first part is form, and the second part is energy. Form gives things substance, structure, shape, and size. Energy moves everything and brings it to life. It is the fire's energy that burns, not its form. It is the stone's energy that crushes, not its form. That energy, in its purest form, before it is weight or heat or wind or cold or anything else, is magic. You must learn how to focus your mind in order to change it into a more focused type of energy, and achieve particular effects."
"Um... OK." The lad sounded more confused than before. "I don’t really get it.”
“Magic is the energy of possibility. It might be fire, or it might be wind, or lightning, or anything else. The mind of the caster takes the energy and makes it into something specific.”
“Ahh!” The lad’s eyes brightened with understanding. “So, it's like a block of wood before it's carved into something, or like blank pages before a story is written?"
"Yes, you can think of it that way if you like," the teacher acknowledged. "But it's also more. To continue your comparison, the pure magic that you manifested is like all the figures that can be carved from that wood or all the stories that could ever be written on those pages, thrown together haphazardly."
"OK," Jerris said. "Can I use magic that way? I mean like using it to push people in a specific way or push away arrows or something."
“No. Pure magic arises as a result of the instinct of the caster, to escape from danger, or some other desperate need. It’s highly unpredictable, manifesting in very different ways. What you did, pushing with invisible force, is called hyperkinesis, a powerful, sudden force pushing outward. Most mages can learn basic kinesis to move objects, but nothing as large as a man. There are other effects, too. Pure magic can blind attackers, paralyze them, or even cause them to fall dead on the spot. It sometimes causes the caster to vanish and reappear somewhere else, several yards or even miles away. I’ve heard reports that for some mages, pure magic manifests as a suspension of time, where they can move about but the rest of the world is frozen in place. It would be useful if it could be harnessed and controlled, but it can’t. Many have tried, and most of those died in the attempt.”
"Alright, so how do you make it useful?"
"Well, that’s a question with a rather long answer. Are you sure you want to hear it?”
“Of course,” Jerris replied eagerly, his eyes bright with curiosity. “That’s why I asked. I didn’t expect it to be simple.”
Darien nodded in agreement, then explained as he scratched the dark stubble of his unshaved chin. “I’ll begin at the beginning then. All magic is said to flow from pure magic, but there are different ways to harness it. The main divisions are called schools of magic. Most of what you’ve seen me use is called elemental magic. Those who use it are called elementalists, or sometimes conjurers, because we appear to conjure elements from nothing. That isn’t entirely true of course. Some elemental magic appears to be conjured, because it is energy without form. Fire, lightning, heat, cold, light, and wind are all simply energy, which can be called into being anywhere, so long as the mage possesses the necessary magical energy. Earth and water, on the other hand, require some materials to be present. Because those elements require some form or substance to make them useful, you must have some to begin with. When I use earth magic, I am simply imparting energy into the existing earth so that it changes in a predictable way. Water is used in a very similar way, though its uses are somewhat subtler. Earth magic isn’t simply limited to rock, either, it can be used to manipulate any material found in the earth, even metals like iron, silver, and gold. For those reasons, earth and water magic are sometimes grouped separately, and called transmutation.
“Like turning lead into gold?” Jerris remarked.
“Well, yes, but that isn’t very practical. Elemental spells are completely dependent on the concentration of the mage to maintain, so they can only be maintained for a limited period of time, and within a limited range. Needless to say, the ability to transmute lead into gold isn’t particularly practical when it turns back to lead after a few minutes, or whenever the mage decides to leave.
“Regardless of the element used, the variety of effects that can be achieved depends upon the mage's individual skill and practice, as well as the environment. One cannot, for example, conjure a fireball under water, or make a bolt of lightning travel along the ground, or produce a wall of earth in the air where there is no earth. When I knocked down the castle wall, I simply applied a vibration to an already vulnerable point. The ice shards are simply the result of shaping and then freezing the water that is suspended within the air. That technique would be alm
ost impossible in a desert.”
“So how do you make them move? The ice I mean?” Jerris asked with eager excitement in his voice.
“Well, that involves the kinesis I mentioned earlier. Kinesis is the energy of movement. It’s easy to move small objects if the force is in a single direction, and you don’t need very precise aim,” Darien explained to his eager listener. “If you noticed, when I fought the gloom crawler, I used the ice shards when I had a large target and I wanted to inflict a lot of damage, but when I needed to hit a precise target, the eyes of the beast, I chose a throwing dagger. The shades are trained both in magic, and in traditional combat with many different weapons. The combined skill of both makes a more versatile warrior.”
“OK. So what about those balls of darkness?” Jerris asked, his curiosity still seemingly far from satisfied. “You used them on the gates. I’ve never even heard of magic like that.”
“Well, that’s something a bit different. They are called shadow voids, and they are not energy exactly, nor are they transmutation of other materials. What they are is an absence of energy, which is, surprisingly, nearly as powerful as any kind of energy. They are, in a very real sense, emptiness, and emptiness is something that can’t exist on its own. It requires a tremendous force of will to sustain the existence of something so unnatural. The shadow void violates the principle that magic can neither create nor destroy energy, because it does destroy energy, and substance as well. No other known spell violates this principle.”
“That sounds scary,” Jerris shuddered slightly. “I’m not sure I want to learn that.”
“Very few mages can learn the technique. In addition to tremendous power of will and concentration, it requires one to focus the mind in a very specific, very painful, way., but, if I could continue.” The boy nodded, still enthralled by Darien’s words.
“It isn’t just the elements around us that contain magical energy, either. That energy exists inside us as well. Our will, our mind, our thoughts, are said to be made of magic, which brings us to the second school of magic, called domination. Those who focus upon domination magic are called dominators, manipulators, or illusionists. Domination is the art of forcing one's will upon other beings directly, influencing them subtly, or simply altering their perceptions slightly in order to deceive and confuse them. Domination is most effective against those who lack magical talent, but almost impossible to use against those of equal or greater magical skill. Avirosa is a master of domination magic, and is particularly adept at using his talents to manipulate beasts to serve as his eyes and ears, and to fight for him.”
“Like the gloom crawler!” Jerris broke in excitedly.
Darien chuckled aloud despite himself, infected by the lad’s enthusiasm more than he expected. “Yes, exactly. Obviously, you can see how useful such a mastery can be, especially to an assassin who prefers to avoid a direct confrontation. Domination focuses on manipulating the magic of other beings, but we can also manipulate the magical energies within ourselves. That is called augmentation or sometimes channeling, and its practitioners are sometimes called channelers. Channelers use background magical energy around them and within them to make themselves faster or stronger. They can also enhance their eyes and ears to see and hear great distances, or augment their reflexes so they can react to an enemy far faster than an ordinary warrior. You may have observed I can move and react much faster than my opponents. This is the reason why.”
“So you can use more than one school?”
“Yes, most mages are taught the basics of each school. They usually develop an affinity for one or two of them, and focus their advanced training exclusively on that school. I am something of an exception. I was called a savant, able to manipulate many magics instinctively. I learned advanced techniques in many schools, which is something of a rarity. Nevertheless, my strong magical energy dictated that most of my energy was devoted to elemental magic.”
“Why is that? Is it better than the others?”
“Not at all, but those who possess the gift are not equally gifted. Using elemental magic is something like extending your energy outside your own body, then manipulating it as if it were a part of you like an arm or a leg. Not all have equal amounts of this energy. Some have far more innate magical power than others. The more innate magical talent one has, the more powerful effects they can generate, and more importantly, the farther away they can generate them. Range is of critical importance in elemental magic. Generating effects farther away, and being able to increase the range of projectile attacks can be critical in battle. Elemental magic is a magic of brute force, so those who possess that force are steered towards it.
“The other schools are generally much subtler, requiring less force and more precision. It can be difficult for those with great innate magical talent to master the precision required for subtle illusions or properly focusing one’s vision to see something a mile away.”
“So how great is my talent?” the boy nervously asked. “How much innate talent do I possess?”
“Well, regrettably, I couldn’t honestly tell you. The art of perceiving and understanding magical energies, called mysticism, is actually the fourth school of magic, and the one for which I possess the least aptitude. I recall being told something about strong mages having difficulty seeing the magic around them because their own is so strong. I can sense the active magic around me, an ability called second sight, or mage sight. Most mages possess it to some degree, but it has limited practical function. Beyond that, I can sense if a very powerful mage is nearby, especially if it’s someone familiar, but not with any degree of precision. A true mystic can sense the magical fields, called auras, of mages and enchanted objects, sometimes many miles away. The more skilled among them can tell how far away they are, and in which direction. They can also manipulate their own magical auras to avoid being seen by other mystics. They also can sense potential magic as well, assessing the capabilities of an opponent before an actual encounter. It is quite a useful talent, and I somewhat regret that I don’t have much aptitude for it. I could not say how strong you could become. Perhaps one day you will find someone who will be able to answer your question.”
"Wow," Jerris said, his excitement still undimmed. “So mages can tell each other apart without even looking at each other. This all seems so complicated, all these different forms of magic. So what about enchantments? Which school are they?" Darien paused for several minutes, both considering his answer, and simultaneously marveling that the lad continued to listen so intently to his somewhat tedious explanations. “Well,” the lad pressed again.
"Well, if you'd let me finish." The teacher said, "Enchantment is the fifth and final school of magic, though some do not think it should be considered its own school, but rather an extension of the other four. Either way, it is arguably the most important of all magics. Enchantment is the art of weaving particular magical spells or effects into particular objects or areas. The principal difference between spells and enchantments is that spells are only effective for a certain amount of time, and are often dependent on the mage’s physical presence. Enchantments are relatively permanent, taking centuries or longer to lose their potency. The objects themselves can be almost anything, and the effects that can be created are thought to be almost limitless. Most enchantments are exceedingly complicated and can only be performed by very skilled mages. The success or failure of an enchantment revolves around successfully manipulating and permanently changing the nature of the magical energy within the enchanted object or objects, and this is neither easy nor quick. Unfortunately, once the objects are created, almost anyone can use them, often even those with no magical talent."
"But the enchantment that killed my mother, you said it was simple."
"Yes, unfortunately, that enchantment and a few others have proven so useful that they have become well known and well-practiced over the centuries." The shade said glumly. "That particular enchantment amounts to simply establishing a link between two object
s, the basis of much enchanting, with the second object being a potion that naturally holds enchantments easily. It's quite possible that the initial spell was even cast on a single object, which even a laughably incompetent mage can do, and then that object was ground down into the potion your mother was forced to drink. It is, regrettably, one of the easiest tricks for a novice enchanter to perform, yet take it as a lesson. The simplest tricks are often the most effective. A skilled mage does not always use his most difficult and complicated spells in battle when a simpler spell will do. If you delve far into magic, you will quickly learn that more powerful and complicated spells will exhaust your mind very quickly, just as a heavy weapon will quickly exhaust your body."
"I see," Jerris said. "It seems almost unfair that the spell that killed her was so easy."
"Why should that seem unfair?" the shade cocked his head curiously, and looked strangely at the youth. "An ordinary man with a dagger might accomplish the same death even more easily without the aid of any magic at all. Would you have felt better if a very difficult spell were used to kill her? She would be equally dead. I fail to see the difference."
"Of course you don't see the difference," Jerris groaned. "You seem to know everything, but then you don't understand something so simple. I only meant that it was unfair that something so awful could be done so easily." Darien did not understand what Jerris was talking about, not in the slightest. For a moment, he thought about the meaning of the words, but in another moment, his thinking was interrupted. "I'm sorry," Jerris apologized, "I interrupted again. You were trying to help and answer my question, and I just interrupted and then insulted you."