Cathryn Becomes a Mage
Cathryn sat in the library reading room, eyes glazed, looking at the book her magic instructor gave her. It still made no sense to her, no matter how many times she read it.
“…focusing on the metaphysical skeleton of the object, one should be able to discern the mana flows along the pseudo-surfaces and facets of the spirit forms….”
What kind of gobbledygook was that? she thought.
“…a mage should be an island of calm logic as they twist their mind to guide the flows of mana to bend the apparent rules of reality….”
Say what? Bending reality by twisting the mind? “Apparent” reality? This book is full of gibberish!
She shut the heavy book with a thump. She leaned forward, groaned, and let her forehead fall onto her crossed arms, which lay across the now-closed leather bound tome. And to think that she joined the Tondene Imperial Army for this.
It had seemed so simple when the recruiter explained it to her. She had been a baker, making loaves of bread all day. And she had been…content, if not happy. Sammuns came in almost every day, getting bread for his family, in his crisp, olive and khaki uniform. And every day he chatted with her, eliciting a shy smile from her most of the time. Too bad he was married, she thought. He was cute. And looked very good in that uniform!
He hadn’t really been flirting, just…friendly. But over time, he came to realize that she was a very smart, clever lady. And part of Sammuns’ duties was that of recruiter. And he saw something in Cathryn, something that the Army could really use. The Army was always looking for bright recruits who were smart enough to learn some magic.
To Cathryn, it sounded pretty good. Rear echelon duties, logistics, not a lot of actual combat. That suited her just fine. Plus a really good salary, compared to what she was making as a baker. And the signing bonus, slightly more than four full month’s wages, wasn’t bad either. So she agreed to become a mage working for the Army.
All she had to do was learn how to manipulate the magical energies that flowed all around her.
It sounded so easy, she thought, like it wasn’t a nearly impossible task!
She groaned again, raising her head up off of her arms and pushing her violet-streaked hair from her face. She opened the book again, turning to an earlier page. Again, she dug into the dense text. She was really starting to dislike Thaumatology.
Cathryn eventually made it through the thick tome of theoretical magical metaphysics, a.k.a. thaumatology. It was only after downing the alchemical potion she had been given that it started to gel for her. It took her being able to actually see the mana density gradients before a lot of what was in the book made sense.
She had been given a dose of the liquid by her Thaumatology instructor, sou-Rhea Lakiiji Noha, a Goblin officer. It was in a glass, wide-mouthed flask, and sat at the bottom of the vessel, thick and opalescent. When she tipped the flask, it slid down the glass like mucus. When she tipped it up to her mouth, she could smell it: hints of floral scents, an earthy mustiness, and a sharp, acrid odor that gave her the impression of lightning.
She drank it, the thick, viscous liquid flowing slowly into her mouth and down her throat. It felt like post nasal drip, and didn’t taste any better. She swallowed, needing to do it repeatedly as it never felt like it ever made it down her throat.
The effects manifested slowly, over a period of several seconds, starting with a pinkish haze that never really went away, but she could “see”, if that was the right word, flows like streams or currents in the air. And through the tables and chairs in the room, even herself and sou-Rhea Noha. Sou-Rhea Noha seemed to have a couple of brighter areas, one at her breast, and one at her hip. Cathryn realized that they were enchanted items, one a necklace, the other a dagger. It took her a few moments to resolve the shapes of them; the mana flows with which she was seeing distorted “the real world” appearance of whatever she was looking at.
With a bit of effort, and focus, Cathryn was able to make out points of light, slowing moving along the streams and currents, eddying about the sou-Rhea. She could see out to maybe thirty or so feet, but she couldn’t be sure. It was hard to estimate distances with the distorted objects and the pinkish haze. No, not pink, but a vivid magenta with an almost white center.
“What do you see?” Sou-Rhea Noha asked calmly. She stood on the opposite side of the table that Cathryn was seated at.
“A color, mostly. Pinkish magenta. It seems to be moving or flowing, but there isn’t a specific direction. Sort of all of them at once, chaotically.”
“Good. That’s a start. Focus on a specific area. Can you see any details?”
Cathryn squinted, trying to peer through the haze. It obscured and blurred details, although it didn’t act like any fog she had ever experienced. “It’s difficult to focus on anything in particular. Which is weird.”
Sou-Rhea Noha held up a hand. “Focus on my hand.”
Cathryn saw a disturbance in the flows of mana, and by sort of focusing on what wasn’t there, what the mana was flowing around, could detect that the army officer had raised her hand. “I see it.”
“Good, now focus in on it. What can you see?”
Cathryn again tried to peer at a specific point. She thought she could discern motes or points of lighter colored particles, like dust in a beam of light. But it was almost subliminal, and she wasn’t sure. “I think I see sparkling dust?” It was a question, not a statement.
“Good. Now try to imagine yourself reaching out and grasping some of those motes with your fingertips.” The officer could see Cathryn trying, and the student looked like someone trying to catch a fly between two fingertips. She didn’t seem to be having any luck, and the expression on her face was getting more and more frustrated.
Sou-Rhea Noha spoke, “You won’t be able to touch them, so don’t worry that you can’t seem to grab any. That’s not the point of this. It’s more of a practice run for later, when you have Magery. When you have that, you will be able to manipulate the mana flows. For now, it’s something of a dry run, to get you used to thinking about being able to both see and access the mana. The better you can visualize it, the more successful mage you will be.”
She went on, “Whomever recruited you recognized an imaginative person. It takes imagination to wield magic. Dull people just aren’t able to previsualize what they want to do; the imagery just isn’t there, so they are not able to manipulate mana to any great extent. They get in their own way, so to speak.”
“But the real reason we made you drink that foul stuff is so that you would better understand the conceptual basis of the thaumatology we are trying to teach you. Equations and math is all well and good, but it doesn’t really give you an intuitive feeling for what is really going on. Some people can succeed without it, focusing solely on the theoretical precepts and equations. Others, like yourself, need a more hands-on demonstration of the concepts.”
Cathryn focused on where the table was. With some effort, she could make out the outlines of it by watching how the motes moved through the space. She thought she could see them waver for a moment when they went through the boundaries of the legs or tabletop. She practiced trying to pinch motes between her fingers. She knew she couldn’t, and couldn’t even feel them. But putting her fingers where she thought the motes were was helpful in isolating specific motes and making the control over her vision better.
All too soon, the pinkish-magenta fuzz faded from view, and the room sprang back into clarity. “Whoa,” she said, as a wave of light dizziness swept through her. It felt like her eyes tingled a bit, like an aftereffect. “That was…interesting.”
Sou-Rhea Noha smiled. “You’ll get more opportunities to experience that again. Not too many, as it’s an expensive training aid, but a few. For now, though, it’s time for more thaumatology lessons.”
It would have been better, she thought, if they had just given me the drug first. But they hadn’t, for reasons of their own. I can’t help but think it would have been easier.
Then they began teaching her the Light spell, a "simple, uncomplicated" spell that was the root spell for the entire college of Light and Darkness. She wasn’t able to cast it, but they wanted her to learn it anyway. Her teachers said she would use it to build her Magery, once she had unlocked the talent. They also taught her Seek Water, also knowing that she wouldn’t be able to cast it yet. She dutifully followed their instructions, learning the words (Words? she thought. They are nonsense phrases and ways to make my tongue hurt!) and the finger-bending gestures that threatened to give her cramps in her hands. At least the foot motions were easy. Like dance steps, except simple, without the complicated choreography of a stage production. The trick was doing all three, simultaneously and correctly.
She closed the thick thaumatology tome as an acolyte came in, smartly dressed, with the rank of Tethys as denoted by the filled triangle insignia on his upper arm, and stood. It was time for the first of the ceremonial rituals. She followed the young officer out of the room, down a corridor, to an assembly room. That day, the chairs had been removed, leaving a large open space. A pentagram was inlaid on the floor, and lit candles were placed at strategic points around the various parts of the pentagram. Runes had been painted all around the pentagram. She recognized many of them, from the thaumatology book she had spent so much time reading. They were glyphs for power, strength, magic, mind, spirit, and transformation, plus dozens of others that she didn’t recognize. Although they may have simply been linking runes that connected the ones she did recognize.
A silver chalice, sparkling with gems, sat in the center of the pentagram, numerous sparkles of light reflecting off of it from all of the candles. Six mages stood around the star-shaped inlaid figure, each wearing off-white shapeless robes and featureless masks. Cathryn knew it was to anonymize their identities, because knowing their identities might influence the ceremony. The acolyte who had brought Cathryn to the room left, closing the door behind him.
“Sit in the center of the pentagram,” one of the mages intoned. His voice was deep, sonorous, and she didn’t recognize it. “When told, drink what is in the chalice. It will make you more receptive.” He indicated the others with a wave of his hands. “We will be your Pillars of Investiture. With luck, our gifts will infuse into you, and you will begin your journey into magecraft.” One day, perhaps, Cathryn herself might be one of the Pillars for a future applicant. Theoretically, anyway.
She was wearing a robe herself, although it wasn’t shapeless, and her face was not covered by any mask. She walked to the pentagram, careful not to step on any of the painted runes, and sat down in the center next to the chalice. She looked into the chalice, seeing an opalescent reddish fluid in it. She thought she could see it moving, as if animated by heat currents. There was no heat coming off of it, however.
“Cathryn Muhalland, drink the Potion of Investiture,” one of the masked figures commanded. It wasn’t the same one who had told her to sit in the pentagram. Muffled by the mask, she was unable to tell if the voice was male, or female.
The six mages began chanting as she reached for the chalice. Both male and female voices were represented, but she was unable to discern how many of each there were. Her hand curled around the stem of the cup, and she raised it to her lips, the vessel seemingly heavier than it ought to be. The reddish fluid, now shadowed by the opaque walls of the chalice, was softly illuminated by tiny points of almost subliminal light, appearing like hundreds of fireflies seen from miles away.
The fluid burned like chilis going down, and her mouth tingled from her lips to her throat. She wasn’t a fan of Orcish and Goblish food, so it was difficult for her to get it down in one gulp. It was like being stabbed in the tongue. Her eyes watered, she could feel sweat on her forehead and the back of her neck, and her nose started running. She couldn’t tell what it tasted like; the spicy feeling short-circuited her tastebuds. It felt in her stomach like she imagined liquid metal might feel like: heavy, solid, immobile.
The mages began moving their hands in almost spastic contortions, and they started moving around her, choreographed like a well-rehearsed theatrical production. They moved in almost perfect unison, waving their arms about as they stepped around the pentagram.
The glyphs painted around the inlaid lines started glowing with a magenta/purple light, pulsing softly like a heartbeat, and motes of violet light rose from them like particulate steam. Her vision became blurry and doubled; she seemed to be having trouble focusing. Her brain seemed to perceive this as an interesting fact without judgement or worry, as if losing her vision was happening to someone else’s eyes, not her own. She was feeling very detached.
Cathryn watched, almost amused, as the pretty motes of light rose up, following a path that curved up and over her, as if the pentagram described a transparent sphere, and the motes couldn’t get in. Her head tilted back, almost of its own volition, and she looked up as the points of light converged at the pinnacle of the invisible dome around her, then poured down onto her face.
At first, it was like feeling sunlight on her face, and she smiled, liking the feeling. Then it intensified, heating up, burning, suffusing her head with what seemed like fire before it flooded into her entire body, enflaming her soul. She couldn’t move, even had she wanted to; the pillar of motes decending from the top of the dome into her body was like an iron rod pinning her to the center of the pentagram like a bug in a collection. The feeling of flames continued, and she couldn’t even scream in pain, although she desperately wanted to.
They hadn’t told her it would hurt. That it would be like being burned at the stake. It lasted for what seemed like hours, her sense of time completely obliterated by the pain and whatever this was doing to her. She couldn’t see the mages; her head, still tilted up, could only see a bright magenta light, blinding in its intensity. Her ears were filled with the roar of her own blood, and she tasted acid and salt, although how she knew that she was never able to explain, even months or years later.
After an eternity, it suddenly stopped. She breathed again, in a sharp, violent inhalation that left her stunned as she fell over onto her side, her legs drawn up in the fetal position. She gasped, the after effects of the burning sensations fading to an uncomfortable tingling, as if her whole body was a funny bone. Her vision, still seeing a blazing magenta, slowly faded until she could see the room again, with the six mages. Five were leaving the room, while the sixth came toward her to offer aid.
He knelt beside her, placing his hand gently on her shoulder as he offered the other to help her rise to her feet. With his help, she rose on wobbling legs, his steady hands keeping her from falling over again.
“I know,” he said, “it’s not very comfortable.” Cathryn could hear the slight tone of amusement as he tried to make light of the process. “In fact, it sucks. I went through it myself, so I know what you are going through.”
Once she was on her feet, and steady enough where he didn’t need to keep her from falling over, he straightened her robes a bit, then stepped back. He said a few words, his fingers twisting as he cast an Aura spell. “But, it’s actually a good sign. I think it took. From what I can tell,” he said cocking his head in different directions as he tried to discern her aura, “I think you are a mage now. Your aura is subtly different. We’ll be checking periodically, to make sure, and to follow your progress as you work on developing your Magery further. But for now, rest for the remainder of the day.”
She nodded, and made her way back to her quarters. Once there, she collapsed onto the narrow bed, utterly exhausted. As she fell asleep, she could still feel residual tingling throughout her entire body. But it didn’t keep her awake more than a few seconds, at most.
The next day, she was visited by sur-Themis Heather Ambarleaf, one of her teachers, a Hobbit woman who held one of the lower officer ranks. She had the rank and authority to order about several hundred soldiers, if her orders demanded that of her. For now, her orders were to be an instructor, not a centasenti commander.
The short, squat woman looked up at Cathryn, her colorful staff held upright at her side. Her eyes had the faraway look of one who was gazing at an aura. Sur-Themis Ambarleaf frowned and squinted, looking Cathryn up and down. “I think the ceremony worked. It’s always hard to tell at first. Sometimes I am not sure if what I am seeing is truly there, or whether it’s because I simply wish it to be there.”
Cathryn gave a rueful grin. “I hope it’s there…I don’t think I want to go through that ceremony again.”
The Hobbit woman chuckled. “No one does. In a sense, we are modifying the soul. And that is a…difficult thing to accomplish. Imparting the ability to manipulate magic is tricky, complicated, and difficult. And that’s just the beginning. Now you will have to work on building it up. Slowly, over time. You will be attempting to cast a lot of spells, over and over again, and mostly failing to have anything happen except exhaustion.” She smiled. “Don’t let it discourage you. You’ll get there. It will just take time. And effort, and practice.”
Cathryn nodded, resigned but content. She knew she had a lot of work ahead of her, even if she wasn’t exactly sure what that was going to be like.
The sur-Themis continued, “When a non-mage tries to cast a spell, nothing happens. No spell effects, no feeling of fatigue…just, nothing. Like any other time when they are just talking. When a mage tries to cast a spell, there is a feeling. When they fail to cast a spell properly, they get a feeling of exhaustion. It takes effort to move mana around. Even if it doesn’t do what you intend. You will likely be feeling a lot of that. You’ve got two problems with spell casting. The first is that you just aren’t very good at it yet. That’s just a lack of skill. The second is that whatever Magery you have now is…unstable. It won’t always work. But you still have it. Which means that every time you attempt a spell, the mana will respond in some fashion. Sometimes it might even do what you want it to. Most of the time, however, it could go seriously wrong.”
Cathryn had been told this before, but it had been in the early days, while she was learning the theory, but before she understood much of it. Now, however, it was making a lot more sense, and the training she had had up to this point was alerting her as to how dangerous it was. It wasn’t that magic was unpredictable; it couldn’t be, otherwise spells wouldn’t work consistently. It would just be random effects. But spell casting failures could go horribly wrong; the mana didn’t know what was safe and what wasn’t, it just did what mana does, without regard to the consequences.
Heather said, “That’s why you will only be allowed to cast spells in the training rooms, with supervision. No spell casting alone. The training rooms are fortified, just in case the magic goes awry and either causes damage, or summons a horde of demons.”
The shocked look on Cathryn’s face at the thought of a horde of demons made the Hobbit officer chuckle. “I’m exaggerating, a little. Spell failures rarely end up summoning demons, and never in hordes. So far, anyway. Try not to worry about it. It’s more likely the spell failure may result in physical damage as the mana feedback burns through your nervous system. And that is a distinct risk. Hence the supervision. It’s for quick medical attention as well as combat backup.”
“Sounds…wonderful,” Cathryn replied, a bit of apprehension in her voice shading the sarcasm. This magic stuff had better be worth it, she thought.
“Come,” Heather said, “I’ll take you to the training room and we can get started.”
“We?”
“Yes. Today I’m your supervisor. I’ll be training you personally for a while.”
“Ah,” Cathryn replied, as she followed the sur-Themis down the hallway. Within a few minutes, they arrived at the training building. It was ugly, a squat stone structure with a low-sloped roof. Surrounding it were some guard towers, manned by archers and ballistae. There were likely a few wizards up there, too.
Sur-Themis Ambarleaf noticed Cathryn’s stare. “Just a precaution. Just in case something got out. We have a master of illusions mess with them every week or so, just to keep them alert and awake. It’s necessary, as breakouts don’t happen very often, and we don’t want the guards to think they aren’t necessary.” The officer laughed. “I know, it sounds ridiculous, but it’s required to keep them on their toes. It is a very important duty, even if most of the time it’s boring.”
They got to the door. It was heavy, of solid oak timbers that had an odd look to it. Or, more precisely, an impression. Again, Officer Ambarleaf noticed what Cathryn was focused on. “It’s essential wood, rather than regular wood. Several times stronger. You’ll notice that it’s possible to bar the door from this side.”
Cathryn had noticed. “Three bars? Gods, what are you trying to keep in there?” Even before she finished the question, her own mind supplied the answer: demons. “Never mind.”
Heather grinned, then opened the door. It was eight inches thick, and very heavy. Heather struggled to open it, despite the oiled and silent hinges. There were four of them, each ten inches tall and made of thick steel mortised into the wood. Just making the mortises must have taken hours to carve, given the strength of essential wood.
Inside, there was a corridor that went to the left and right, with doors along one side leading to various rooms. The doors were separated by twenty foot intervals or so. They strode down the hallway to the right, past three doors, to the one on the end. When Heather opened it, Cathryn could see that after a six foot hallway, it was about twenty feet long, and about fourteen feet wide, with a twelve foot arched ceiling. She did the math in her head: if all the rooms matched the one she was in, there were six feet of stone between each room. She hadn’t walked through a short hallway into the room. It was simply that the walls were that thick.
There were no furnishings save a pair of chairs near the entrance, and a hook by the door that held a lit lantern. The chairs were lightweight, but well-padded. The walls were mortared stone, with a coat of mortar over the whole surface. She only knew that because in some places, the mortar had crumbled, leaving naked stone blocks beneath. There were some dark stains on the walls and floor. On the floor was a small metal grate, about four inches in diameter. It was barely visible in the dimness; the lantern was the only light source in the room.
“All right, Cathryn,” officer Ambarleaf said, “why don’t you go over there and we can begin.” She indicated a spot about in the center of the room. You have been taught Seek Water and Light. Let’s start with Light. Try to cast it.”
Cathryn did as she had been ordered, moving into the center of the room. It was close to the floor drain, and now she noticed that the floor was subtly sloped so that any liquids in the room would drain out through the grate. She took a deep breath, held it a moment, then exhaled, readying herself. She knew the syllables, the hand gestures, and the footwork that skilled users of magic usually were able to dispense with. But she had never cast the spell before. She had only “dry-fired” the spell, under the watchful eye of her tutors to make sure she got the details correct. Each time, nothing had happened, as was to be expected, since she had lacked the ability to cast magic.
She spoke the words, enunciating them clearly, while circling her feet and making the hand and arm gestures necessary to make the Light spell work. She was not expecting the frisson of energy that she felt from her toes to her fingertips to the tips of her hair. She found herself breathing hard all of a sudden. No light floated in front of her, which was the expected result of a successful cast. She had failed to cast the spell, but this time, she felt something unlike anything she had felt when she had “cast” the spell before.
“I felt something!” she exclaimed excitedly. Then she sobered. “But it didn’t work,” she continued, disappointed.
Heather grinned. “It doesn’t matter if you cast it or not. The important thing is that there was an effect. The fact that you felt it means that the Ceremony of Investiture worked. You won’t have to go through that again. What likely happened is that you weren’t able to engage your new Magery, so the spell failed. It’s possible that you successfully cast it correctly, but the Magery wasn’t there for the spell to be realized. When a mage casts a spell, or fails to cast one, the energy is still expended. That is likely what you felt. If you didn’t have Magery at all, if the Ceremony had failed, you wouldn’t have felt anything when you tried to cast the spell.”
“Ah,” Cathryn replied.
“Try again.”
She did. Again, no light, but she felt that little flow of energy. The Tondene Army officer made her try again and again, having her sit in the chair after every eight or so tries for a rest. Just trying to cast the spell was tiring her out, requiring her to rest for about an hour each break. At the end of the day, however, she finally managed to get a point of light to appear before her.
“Gods! It worked!” she squealed, happy that it finally worked for a change. She had been starting to doubt it, no matter what her tutor said. Then she realized what she had sounded like, her voice about two octaves higher than usual. “Uh, sorry, sir.,” she said, in her normal voice.
Heather grinned, happy for her subordinate. “It’s fine, Cathryn. I’m happy for you, actually, that you finally got it to work! How are you feeling?”
“Happy. Tired. Like I’ve had to do a morning run in full kit.”
“Practice moving the light around, and keep it active until you are too exhausted to keep it going, then we will call it a day. Do not keep it lit too long, though. We don’t want any manaburn injuries.”
“Yes sir,” Cathryn replied, then concentrated on the light, which looked like a floating candle flame, moving it back and forth, then in circles. She could move it about as fast as a running man. She made it go from one side of the room to the other; it took about three seconds to cross the distance. She was able to keep it going for about five minutes before her labored breathing and dizziness made her cease maintaining the spell. She made her way to the chair, almost falling into the padded seat, panting with exertion. The light winked out a minute later, as if it never existed at all.
Sur-Themis Ambarleaf let Cathryn rest for about twenty minutes, then helped her up. “Meal call will be in a few minutes. I suggest we start making our way to the mess hall.”
The next several weeks were similar. Sometimes she would be successful once a day, sometimes twice. Some days, she wasn’t successful at all, and those made her both discouraged and more determined simultaneously. After a few more weeks, her successes started being numbered a few times per day. A month later, and she was routinely getting a half dozen successful spells off per day. A few times something went horribly wrong, and the spell backfired, or caused damage, or, in the case of one time, temporary blindness. But that was what the spotter was for. It wasn’t always sur-Themis Ambarleaf; it might have been any of a half dozen tutors.
She was also being instructed in other spells; her time in the thickly-walled training rooms were limited to about six hours a day. She had four to six hours of other study, primarily spells, that she also had to do. Spell training was usually in the morning, and Magery training was in the afternoon. Although Magery training also trained whatever spell she was told to try. Those were usually the most basic of spells, of low mana requirements, so she could cast it quite a few times, and if it went haywire, the amount of power was minimized. That made a difference. Lower power spells, when cast horribly wrong, had smaller negative effects. Cathryn considered that a win-win, especially after her bout of blindness. It had only lasted two hours, but it scared the crap out of her.
Over time, she learned both more spells, and how to push her Magery. After another two months, she seemed to be able to cast spells regularly, without the worry that her Magery wouldn’t activate. It seemed to be always there. She even could sense enchanted items, by either proximity or touch. Once that was established (requiring a “test” of sorts as she demonstrated her power by casting spells for hours at a time), she no longer needed to go into the training room, and could spend the majority of her time learning the spells that the Tondene Army wanted her to learn.
For the most part, they were spells that manipulated earth, light, water, and food, with a bit of fire and air as well. She learned that a lot of the spells were interconnected, and that the “colleges” or grouping of spells was a convenience invented by people, rather than an absolute physical rule.
During her training time, she heard rumors of recruits having to go through the Ceremony of Investiture two or three times. Apparently, it got worse each time, for reasons no one could answer. One student, after the third time, mustered out, unable to continue. Not for lack of trying; he had developed a palsy, and couldn’t control his limbs well enough to cast a spell. Cathryn shuddered, glad that wasn’t her. After hearing that story, she considered herself very lucky indeed.
She graduated the mage candidate school with little difficulty. She learned not only spells, but useful rituals as well. Mages casting spells all by themselves wouldn’t be able to do much for an army in the field. But by leading a ritual, with spectators, a mage could do wonders. And soldiers were very happy to have fortifications created by Shape Earth spells, or not get rained on by making the rain clouds move over enemy positions, or to eat good food. Soldiers made good spectators for things they wanted anyway, and it was Cathryn Muhalland’s job to give it to them.
“…focusing on the metaphysical skeleton of the object, one should be able to discern the mana flows along the pseudo-surfaces and facets of the spirit forms….”
What kind of gobbledygook was that? she thought.
“…a mage should be an island of calm logic as they twist their mind to guide the flows of mana to bend the apparent rules of reality….”
Say what? Bending reality by twisting the mind? “Apparent” reality? This book is full of gibberish!
She shut the heavy book with a thump. She leaned forward, groaned, and let her forehead fall onto her crossed arms, which lay across the now-closed leather bound tome. And to think that she joined the Tondene Imperial Army for this.
It had seemed so simple when the recruiter explained it to her. She had been a baker, making loaves of bread all day. And she had been…content, if not happy. Sammuns came in almost every day, getting bread for his family, in his crisp, olive and khaki uniform. And every day he chatted with her, eliciting a shy smile from her most of the time. Too bad he was married, she thought. He was cute. And looked very good in that uniform!
He hadn’t really been flirting, just…friendly. But over time, he came to realize that she was a very smart, clever lady. And part of Sammuns’ duties was that of recruiter. And he saw something in Cathryn, something that the Army could really use. The Army was always looking for bright recruits who were smart enough to learn some magic.
To Cathryn, it sounded pretty good. Rear echelon duties, logistics, not a lot of actual combat. That suited her just fine. Plus a really good salary, compared to what she was making as a baker. And the signing bonus, slightly more than four full month’s wages, wasn’t bad either. So she agreed to become a mage working for the Army.
All she had to do was learn how to manipulate the magical energies that flowed all around her.
It sounded so easy, she thought, like it wasn’t a nearly impossible task!
She groaned again, raising her head up off of her arms and pushing her violet-streaked hair from her face. She opened the book again, turning to an earlier page. Again, she dug into the dense text. She was really starting to dislike Thaumatology.
Cathryn eventually made it through the thick tome of theoretical magical metaphysics, a.k.a. thaumatology. It was only after downing the alchemical potion she had been given that it started to gel for her. It took her being able to actually see the mana density gradients before a lot of what was in the book made sense.
She had been given a dose of the liquid by her Thaumatology instructor, sou-Rhea Lakiiji Noha, a Goblin officer. It was in a glass, wide-mouthed flask, and sat at the bottom of the vessel, thick and opalescent. When she tipped the flask, it slid down the glass like mucus. When she tipped it up to her mouth, she could smell it: hints of floral scents, an earthy mustiness, and a sharp, acrid odor that gave her the impression of lightning.
She drank it, the thick, viscous liquid flowing slowly into her mouth and down her throat. It felt like post nasal drip, and didn’t taste any better. She swallowed, needing to do it repeatedly as it never felt like it ever made it down her throat.
The effects manifested slowly, over a period of several seconds, starting with a pinkish haze that never really went away, but she could “see”, if that was the right word, flows like streams or currents in the air. And through the tables and chairs in the room, even herself and sou-Rhea Noha. Sou-Rhea Noha seemed to have a couple of brighter areas, one at her breast, and one at her hip. Cathryn realized that they were enchanted items, one a necklace, the other a dagger. It took her a few moments to resolve the shapes of them; the mana flows with which she was seeing distorted “the real world” appearance of whatever she was looking at.
With a bit of effort, and focus, Cathryn was able to make out points of light, slowing moving along the streams and currents, eddying about the sou-Rhea. She could see out to maybe thirty or so feet, but she couldn’t be sure. It was hard to estimate distances with the distorted objects and the pinkish haze. No, not pink, but a vivid magenta with an almost white center.
“What do you see?” Sou-Rhea Noha asked calmly. She stood on the opposite side of the table that Cathryn was seated at.
“A color, mostly. Pinkish magenta. It seems to be moving or flowing, but there isn’t a specific direction. Sort of all of them at once, chaotically.”
“Good. That’s a start. Focus on a specific area. Can you see any details?”
Cathryn squinted, trying to peer through the haze. It obscured and blurred details, although it didn’t act like any fog she had ever experienced. “It’s difficult to focus on anything in particular. Which is weird.”
Sou-Rhea Noha held up a hand. “Focus on my hand.”
Cathryn saw a disturbance in the flows of mana, and by sort of focusing on what wasn’t there, what the mana was flowing around, could detect that the army officer had raised her hand. “I see it.”
“Good, now focus in on it. What can you see?”
Cathryn again tried to peer at a specific point. She thought she could discern motes or points of lighter colored particles, like dust in a beam of light. But it was almost subliminal, and she wasn’t sure. “I think I see sparkling dust?” It was a question, not a statement.
“Good. Now try to imagine yourself reaching out and grasping some of those motes with your fingertips.” The officer could see Cathryn trying, and the student looked like someone trying to catch a fly between two fingertips. She didn’t seem to be having any luck, and the expression on her face was getting more and more frustrated.
Sou-Rhea Noha spoke, “You won’t be able to touch them, so don’t worry that you can’t seem to grab any. That’s not the point of this. It’s more of a practice run for later, when you have Magery. When you have that, you will be able to manipulate the mana flows. For now, it’s something of a dry run, to get you used to thinking about being able to both see and access the mana. The better you can visualize it, the more successful mage you will be.”
She went on, “Whomever recruited you recognized an imaginative person. It takes imagination to wield magic. Dull people just aren’t able to previsualize what they want to do; the imagery just isn’t there, so they are not able to manipulate mana to any great extent. They get in their own way, so to speak.”
“But the real reason we made you drink that foul stuff is so that you would better understand the conceptual basis of the thaumatology we are trying to teach you. Equations and math is all well and good, but it doesn’t really give you an intuitive feeling for what is really going on. Some people can succeed without it, focusing solely on the theoretical precepts and equations. Others, like yourself, need a more hands-on demonstration of the concepts.”
Cathryn focused on where the table was. With some effort, she could make out the outlines of it by watching how the motes moved through the space. She thought she could see them waver for a moment when they went through the boundaries of the legs or tabletop. She practiced trying to pinch motes between her fingers. She knew she couldn’t, and couldn’t even feel them. But putting her fingers where she thought the motes were was helpful in isolating specific motes and making the control over her vision better.
All too soon, the pinkish-magenta fuzz faded from view, and the room sprang back into clarity. “Whoa,” she said, as a wave of light dizziness swept through her. It felt like her eyes tingled a bit, like an aftereffect. “That was…interesting.”
Sou-Rhea Noha smiled. “You’ll get more opportunities to experience that again. Not too many, as it’s an expensive training aid, but a few. For now, though, it’s time for more thaumatology lessons.”
It would have been better, she thought, if they had just given me the drug first. But they hadn’t, for reasons of their own. I can’t help but think it would have been easier.
Then they began teaching her the Light spell, a "simple, uncomplicated" spell that was the root spell for the entire college of Light and Darkness. She wasn’t able to cast it, but they wanted her to learn it anyway. Her teachers said she would use it to build her Magery, once she had unlocked the talent. They also taught her Seek Water, also knowing that she wouldn’t be able to cast it yet. She dutifully followed their instructions, learning the words (Words? she thought. They are nonsense phrases and ways to make my tongue hurt!) and the finger-bending gestures that threatened to give her cramps in her hands. At least the foot motions were easy. Like dance steps, except simple, without the complicated choreography of a stage production. The trick was doing all three, simultaneously and correctly.
She closed the thick thaumatology tome as an acolyte came in, smartly dressed, with the rank of Tethys as denoted by the filled triangle insignia on his upper arm, and stood. It was time for the first of the ceremonial rituals. She followed the young officer out of the room, down a corridor, to an assembly room. That day, the chairs had been removed, leaving a large open space. A pentagram was inlaid on the floor, and lit candles were placed at strategic points around the various parts of the pentagram. Runes had been painted all around the pentagram. She recognized many of them, from the thaumatology book she had spent so much time reading. They were glyphs for power, strength, magic, mind, spirit, and transformation, plus dozens of others that she didn’t recognize. Although they may have simply been linking runes that connected the ones she did recognize.
A silver chalice, sparkling with gems, sat in the center of the pentagram, numerous sparkles of light reflecting off of it from all of the candles. Six mages stood around the star-shaped inlaid figure, each wearing off-white shapeless robes and featureless masks. Cathryn knew it was to anonymize their identities, because knowing their identities might influence the ceremony. The acolyte who had brought Cathryn to the room left, closing the door behind him.
“Sit in the center of the pentagram,” one of the mages intoned. His voice was deep, sonorous, and she didn’t recognize it. “When told, drink what is in the chalice. It will make you more receptive.” He indicated the others with a wave of his hands. “We will be your Pillars of Investiture. With luck, our gifts will infuse into you, and you will begin your journey into magecraft.” One day, perhaps, Cathryn herself might be one of the Pillars for a future applicant. Theoretically, anyway.
She was wearing a robe herself, although it wasn’t shapeless, and her face was not covered by any mask. She walked to the pentagram, careful not to step on any of the painted runes, and sat down in the center next to the chalice. She looked into the chalice, seeing an opalescent reddish fluid in it. She thought she could see it moving, as if animated by heat currents. There was no heat coming off of it, however.
“Cathryn Muhalland, drink the Potion of Investiture,” one of the masked figures commanded. It wasn’t the same one who had told her to sit in the pentagram. Muffled by the mask, she was unable to tell if the voice was male, or female.
The six mages began chanting as she reached for the chalice. Both male and female voices were represented, but she was unable to discern how many of each there were. Her hand curled around the stem of the cup, and she raised it to her lips, the vessel seemingly heavier than it ought to be. The reddish fluid, now shadowed by the opaque walls of the chalice, was softly illuminated by tiny points of almost subliminal light, appearing like hundreds of fireflies seen from miles away.
The fluid burned like chilis going down, and her mouth tingled from her lips to her throat. She wasn’t a fan of Orcish and Goblish food, so it was difficult for her to get it down in one gulp. It was like being stabbed in the tongue. Her eyes watered, she could feel sweat on her forehead and the back of her neck, and her nose started running. She couldn’t tell what it tasted like; the spicy feeling short-circuited her tastebuds. It felt in her stomach like she imagined liquid metal might feel like: heavy, solid, immobile.
The mages began moving their hands in almost spastic contortions, and they started moving around her, choreographed like a well-rehearsed theatrical production. They moved in almost perfect unison, waving their arms about as they stepped around the pentagram.
The glyphs painted around the inlaid lines started glowing with a magenta/purple light, pulsing softly like a heartbeat, and motes of violet light rose from them like particulate steam. Her vision became blurry and doubled; she seemed to be having trouble focusing. Her brain seemed to perceive this as an interesting fact without judgement or worry, as if losing her vision was happening to someone else’s eyes, not her own. She was feeling very detached.
Cathryn watched, almost amused, as the pretty motes of light rose up, following a path that curved up and over her, as if the pentagram described a transparent sphere, and the motes couldn’t get in. Her head tilted back, almost of its own volition, and she looked up as the points of light converged at the pinnacle of the invisible dome around her, then poured down onto her face.
At first, it was like feeling sunlight on her face, and she smiled, liking the feeling. Then it intensified, heating up, burning, suffusing her head with what seemed like fire before it flooded into her entire body, enflaming her soul. She couldn’t move, even had she wanted to; the pillar of motes decending from the top of the dome into her body was like an iron rod pinning her to the center of the pentagram like a bug in a collection. The feeling of flames continued, and she couldn’t even scream in pain, although she desperately wanted to.
They hadn’t told her it would hurt. That it would be like being burned at the stake. It lasted for what seemed like hours, her sense of time completely obliterated by the pain and whatever this was doing to her. She couldn’t see the mages; her head, still tilted up, could only see a bright magenta light, blinding in its intensity. Her ears were filled with the roar of her own blood, and she tasted acid and salt, although how she knew that she was never able to explain, even months or years later.
After an eternity, it suddenly stopped. She breathed again, in a sharp, violent inhalation that left her stunned as she fell over onto her side, her legs drawn up in the fetal position. She gasped, the after effects of the burning sensations fading to an uncomfortable tingling, as if her whole body was a funny bone. Her vision, still seeing a blazing magenta, slowly faded until she could see the room again, with the six mages. Five were leaving the room, while the sixth came toward her to offer aid.
He knelt beside her, placing his hand gently on her shoulder as he offered the other to help her rise to her feet. With his help, she rose on wobbling legs, his steady hands keeping her from falling over again.
“I know,” he said, “it’s not very comfortable.” Cathryn could hear the slight tone of amusement as he tried to make light of the process. “In fact, it sucks. I went through it myself, so I know what you are going through.”
Once she was on her feet, and steady enough where he didn’t need to keep her from falling over, he straightened her robes a bit, then stepped back. He said a few words, his fingers twisting as he cast an Aura spell. “But, it’s actually a good sign. I think it took. From what I can tell,” he said cocking his head in different directions as he tried to discern her aura, “I think you are a mage now. Your aura is subtly different. We’ll be checking periodically, to make sure, and to follow your progress as you work on developing your Magery further. But for now, rest for the remainder of the day.”
She nodded, and made her way back to her quarters. Once there, she collapsed onto the narrow bed, utterly exhausted. As she fell asleep, she could still feel residual tingling throughout her entire body. But it didn’t keep her awake more than a few seconds, at most.
The next day, she was visited by sur-Themis Heather Ambarleaf, one of her teachers, a Hobbit woman who held one of the lower officer ranks. She had the rank and authority to order about several hundred soldiers, if her orders demanded that of her. For now, her orders were to be an instructor, not a centasenti commander.
The short, squat woman looked up at Cathryn, her colorful staff held upright at her side. Her eyes had the faraway look of one who was gazing at an aura. Sur-Themis Ambarleaf frowned and squinted, looking Cathryn up and down. “I think the ceremony worked. It’s always hard to tell at first. Sometimes I am not sure if what I am seeing is truly there, or whether it’s because I simply wish it to be there.”
Cathryn gave a rueful grin. “I hope it’s there…I don’t think I want to go through that ceremony again.”
The Hobbit woman chuckled. “No one does. In a sense, we are modifying the soul. And that is a…difficult thing to accomplish. Imparting the ability to manipulate magic is tricky, complicated, and difficult. And that’s just the beginning. Now you will have to work on building it up. Slowly, over time. You will be attempting to cast a lot of spells, over and over again, and mostly failing to have anything happen except exhaustion.” She smiled. “Don’t let it discourage you. You’ll get there. It will just take time. And effort, and practice.”
Cathryn nodded, resigned but content. She knew she had a lot of work ahead of her, even if she wasn’t exactly sure what that was going to be like.
The sur-Themis continued, “When a non-mage tries to cast a spell, nothing happens. No spell effects, no feeling of fatigue…just, nothing. Like any other time when they are just talking. When a mage tries to cast a spell, there is a feeling. When they fail to cast a spell properly, they get a feeling of exhaustion. It takes effort to move mana around. Even if it doesn’t do what you intend. You will likely be feeling a lot of that. You’ve got two problems with spell casting. The first is that you just aren’t very good at it yet. That’s just a lack of skill. The second is that whatever Magery you have now is…unstable. It won’t always work. But you still have it. Which means that every time you attempt a spell, the mana will respond in some fashion. Sometimes it might even do what you want it to. Most of the time, however, it could go seriously wrong.”
Cathryn had been told this before, but it had been in the early days, while she was learning the theory, but before she understood much of it. Now, however, it was making a lot more sense, and the training she had had up to this point was alerting her as to how dangerous it was. It wasn’t that magic was unpredictable; it couldn’t be, otherwise spells wouldn’t work consistently. It would just be random effects. But spell casting failures could go horribly wrong; the mana didn’t know what was safe and what wasn’t, it just did what mana does, without regard to the consequences.
Heather said, “That’s why you will only be allowed to cast spells in the training rooms, with supervision. No spell casting alone. The training rooms are fortified, just in case the magic goes awry and either causes damage, or summons a horde of demons.”
The shocked look on Cathryn’s face at the thought of a horde of demons made the Hobbit officer chuckle. “I’m exaggerating, a little. Spell failures rarely end up summoning demons, and never in hordes. So far, anyway. Try not to worry about it. It’s more likely the spell failure may result in physical damage as the mana feedback burns through your nervous system. And that is a distinct risk. Hence the supervision. It’s for quick medical attention as well as combat backup.”
“Sounds…wonderful,” Cathryn replied, a bit of apprehension in her voice shading the sarcasm. This magic stuff had better be worth it, she thought.
“Come,” Heather said, “I’ll take you to the training room and we can get started.”
“We?”
“Yes. Today I’m your supervisor. I’ll be training you personally for a while.”
“Ah,” Cathryn replied, as she followed the sur-Themis down the hallway. Within a few minutes, they arrived at the training building. It was ugly, a squat stone structure with a low-sloped roof. Surrounding it were some guard towers, manned by archers and ballistae. There were likely a few wizards up there, too.
Sur-Themis Ambarleaf noticed Cathryn’s stare. “Just a precaution. Just in case something got out. We have a master of illusions mess with them every week or so, just to keep them alert and awake. It’s necessary, as breakouts don’t happen very often, and we don’t want the guards to think they aren’t necessary.” The officer laughed. “I know, it sounds ridiculous, but it’s required to keep them on their toes. It is a very important duty, even if most of the time it’s boring.”
They got to the door. It was heavy, of solid oak timbers that had an odd look to it. Or, more precisely, an impression. Again, Officer Ambarleaf noticed what Cathryn was focused on. “It’s essential wood, rather than regular wood. Several times stronger. You’ll notice that it’s possible to bar the door from this side.”
Cathryn had noticed. “Three bars? Gods, what are you trying to keep in there?” Even before she finished the question, her own mind supplied the answer: demons. “Never mind.”
Heather grinned, then opened the door. It was eight inches thick, and very heavy. Heather struggled to open it, despite the oiled and silent hinges. There were four of them, each ten inches tall and made of thick steel mortised into the wood. Just making the mortises must have taken hours to carve, given the strength of essential wood.
Inside, there was a corridor that went to the left and right, with doors along one side leading to various rooms. The doors were separated by twenty foot intervals or so. They strode down the hallway to the right, past three doors, to the one on the end. When Heather opened it, Cathryn could see that after a six foot hallway, it was about twenty feet long, and about fourteen feet wide, with a twelve foot arched ceiling. She did the math in her head: if all the rooms matched the one she was in, there were six feet of stone between each room. She hadn’t walked through a short hallway into the room. It was simply that the walls were that thick.
There were no furnishings save a pair of chairs near the entrance, and a hook by the door that held a lit lantern. The chairs were lightweight, but well-padded. The walls were mortared stone, with a coat of mortar over the whole surface. She only knew that because in some places, the mortar had crumbled, leaving naked stone blocks beneath. There were some dark stains on the walls and floor. On the floor was a small metal grate, about four inches in diameter. It was barely visible in the dimness; the lantern was the only light source in the room.
“All right, Cathryn,” officer Ambarleaf said, “why don’t you go over there and we can begin.” She indicated a spot about in the center of the room. You have been taught Seek Water and Light. Let’s start with Light. Try to cast it.”
Cathryn did as she had been ordered, moving into the center of the room. It was close to the floor drain, and now she noticed that the floor was subtly sloped so that any liquids in the room would drain out through the grate. She took a deep breath, held it a moment, then exhaled, readying herself. She knew the syllables, the hand gestures, and the footwork that skilled users of magic usually were able to dispense with. But she had never cast the spell before. She had only “dry-fired” the spell, under the watchful eye of her tutors to make sure she got the details correct. Each time, nothing had happened, as was to be expected, since she had lacked the ability to cast magic.
She spoke the words, enunciating them clearly, while circling her feet and making the hand and arm gestures necessary to make the Light spell work. She was not expecting the frisson of energy that she felt from her toes to her fingertips to the tips of her hair. She found herself breathing hard all of a sudden. No light floated in front of her, which was the expected result of a successful cast. She had failed to cast the spell, but this time, she felt something unlike anything she had felt when she had “cast” the spell before.
“I felt something!” she exclaimed excitedly. Then she sobered. “But it didn’t work,” she continued, disappointed.
Heather grinned. “It doesn’t matter if you cast it or not. The important thing is that there was an effect. The fact that you felt it means that the Ceremony of Investiture worked. You won’t have to go through that again. What likely happened is that you weren’t able to engage your new Magery, so the spell failed. It’s possible that you successfully cast it correctly, but the Magery wasn’t there for the spell to be realized. When a mage casts a spell, or fails to cast one, the energy is still expended. That is likely what you felt. If you didn’t have Magery at all, if the Ceremony had failed, you wouldn’t have felt anything when you tried to cast the spell.”
“Ah,” Cathryn replied.
“Try again.”
She did. Again, no light, but she felt that little flow of energy. The Tondene Army officer made her try again and again, having her sit in the chair after every eight or so tries for a rest. Just trying to cast the spell was tiring her out, requiring her to rest for about an hour each break. At the end of the day, however, she finally managed to get a point of light to appear before her.
“Gods! It worked!” she squealed, happy that it finally worked for a change. She had been starting to doubt it, no matter what her tutor said. Then she realized what she had sounded like, her voice about two octaves higher than usual. “Uh, sorry, sir.,” she said, in her normal voice.
Heather grinned, happy for her subordinate. “It’s fine, Cathryn. I’m happy for you, actually, that you finally got it to work! How are you feeling?”
“Happy. Tired. Like I’ve had to do a morning run in full kit.”
“Practice moving the light around, and keep it active until you are too exhausted to keep it going, then we will call it a day. Do not keep it lit too long, though. We don’t want any manaburn injuries.”
“Yes sir,” Cathryn replied, then concentrated on the light, which looked like a floating candle flame, moving it back and forth, then in circles. She could move it about as fast as a running man. She made it go from one side of the room to the other; it took about three seconds to cross the distance. She was able to keep it going for about five minutes before her labored breathing and dizziness made her cease maintaining the spell. She made her way to the chair, almost falling into the padded seat, panting with exertion. The light winked out a minute later, as if it never existed at all.
Sur-Themis Ambarleaf let Cathryn rest for about twenty minutes, then helped her up. “Meal call will be in a few minutes. I suggest we start making our way to the mess hall.”
The next several weeks were similar. Sometimes she would be successful once a day, sometimes twice. Some days, she wasn’t successful at all, and those made her both discouraged and more determined simultaneously. After a few more weeks, her successes started being numbered a few times per day. A month later, and she was routinely getting a half dozen successful spells off per day. A few times something went horribly wrong, and the spell backfired, or caused damage, or, in the case of one time, temporary blindness. But that was what the spotter was for. It wasn’t always sur-Themis Ambarleaf; it might have been any of a half dozen tutors.
She was also being instructed in other spells; her time in the thickly-walled training rooms were limited to about six hours a day. She had four to six hours of other study, primarily spells, that she also had to do. Spell training was usually in the morning, and Magery training was in the afternoon. Although Magery training also trained whatever spell she was told to try. Those were usually the most basic of spells, of low mana requirements, so she could cast it quite a few times, and if it went haywire, the amount of power was minimized. That made a difference. Lower power spells, when cast horribly wrong, had smaller negative effects. Cathryn considered that a win-win, especially after her bout of blindness. It had only lasted two hours, but it scared the crap out of her.
Over time, she learned both more spells, and how to push her Magery. After another two months, she seemed to be able to cast spells regularly, without the worry that her Magery wouldn’t activate. It seemed to be always there. She even could sense enchanted items, by either proximity or touch. Once that was established (requiring a “test” of sorts as she demonstrated her power by casting spells for hours at a time), she no longer needed to go into the training room, and could spend the majority of her time learning the spells that the Tondene Army wanted her to learn.
For the most part, they were spells that manipulated earth, light, water, and food, with a bit of fire and air as well. She learned that a lot of the spells were interconnected, and that the “colleges” or grouping of spells was a convenience invented by people, rather than an absolute physical rule.
During her training time, she heard rumors of recruits having to go through the Ceremony of Investiture two or three times. Apparently, it got worse each time, for reasons no one could answer. One student, after the third time, mustered out, unable to continue. Not for lack of trying; he had developed a palsy, and couldn’t control his limbs well enough to cast a spell. Cathryn shuddered, glad that wasn’t her. After hearing that story, she considered herself very lucky indeed.
She graduated the mage candidate school with little difficulty. She learned not only spells, but useful rituals as well. Mages casting spells all by themselves wouldn’t be able to do much for an army in the field. But by leading a ritual, with spectators, a mage could do wonders. And soldiers were very happy to have fortifications created by Shape Earth spells, or not get rained on by making the rain clouds move over enemy positions, or to eat good food. Soldiers made good spectators for things they wanted anyway, and it was Cathryn Muhalland’s job to give it to them.
Gaining an Extra Level of Magery
Gaining a level of Magery isn’t easy. It involves a deep knowledge of Thaumatology and mana flows, and ways to get the mind to be able to manipulate it more easily. This involves learning Thaumatology to at least IQ-1, taking an alchemical drug to “open the mind”, and some ceremonial rituals. Once the Magery is unlocked, then come hours and hours of practice manipulating mana flows. The Magery is “unlocked” once 1 CP (or 200 hours) is invested in it. This allows spell casting, which allows the burgeoning mage to keep investing points in Magery. It’s slightly different for mages who already have levels of Magery. All it takes for them is the ceremonial rituals and the hours of practice. Assuming the subject hasn’t learnt any Magic at all yet: The first thing they are taught is Thaumatology, for the theoretical knowledge. This amounts to 2 pts. They are also taught a couple of simple spells (requiring no prerequisites). They practice (under the supervision of skilled mages, to make sure they learn them correctly) and try to “dry fire” cast them. Without Magery, they will never be able to cast them, but when/if they gain Magical Talent they will need the knowledge in order to practice. Then they are given the alchemical potion that grants them mana perception (Eyes of the Mage Elixir). This allows them to see the flows of mana. Seeing them helps the subject to visualize changing it via spell casting. Then the ceremonial rituals are performed, which invest power into the subject (this amounts to 1 point in Magery, and marks the beginning of the process of expanding the Magery to the point where spell casting is routinely possible). But once it’s successful, it’s at this point where the first spells are learned by actually being able to cast them. These will be used to practice the Magery, strengthening that muscle. They are usually simple spells, like Seek Water, Ignite Fire, and Seek Food, or other spells that don’t have prerequisites. Magery, at this point, is Unreliable, with an activation number of 5. As the subject spends time (or character points), this changes to an 8, then 11, then 14, and finally not Unreliable at all when the full 5 points are applied.| Points in Magery 0 | Activation # |
|---|---|
| 1 | 5 |
| 2 | 8 |
| 3 | 11 |
| 4 | 14 |
| 5 | N/A |
| Points in Magery+1 | Activation # |
|---|---|
| 1 | 5 |
| 2 | 6 |
| 3 | 7 |
| 4 | 8 |
| 5 | 9 |
| 6 | 10 |
| 7 | 11 |
| 8 | 13 |
| 9 | 15 |
| 10 | N/A |
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