Practical application
“Now don’t interrupt me,” Yanig says. He leans back, propping himself up with his arms while sitting cross-legged on his mat. He looks at the ceiling as he thinks back. “My master fervently refused to teach me magic, or more precisely, how to imbue the items we made with magic. He could not, in fact, keep me from learning on my own, but he definitely did his best to never directly teach me.”
Shifting his weight forward again, he places his hands in his lap and looks around the room at the eyes on him. “The thing is, I only really learned anything once I came to the desert. Sure, I heard them chant spells and even once saw how my master imbued a spell into an item, but I never could replicate the imbuing. I know some of the sigils used, but that ‘language,’ so to speak, was another thing he kept from me.” Yanig pauses, seeing the interest clearly waning on everyone's faces.
“Well, long story short, my master did so for a reason. Although he knew I practiced some of the spells I heard and saw, I never did it in front of anyone. One day, however, everything changed when a Capital inspector came to the shop and tried to get a bribe from my master for renewing his practicing license. The guards accompanying him got a bit rough, and before I knew it, I had blown them against the workshop wall.” Yanig smiles at the memory. “Fortunately, they hit the wall hard enough to be knocked out before sliding down to the floor in a heap.”
Doa chuckles at the thought. Ruben gasps a bit, and Saqwe hisses, “Serves them right.”
“Yes, well,” Yanig continues. “My master did not have much time to explain, but he said there was a reason he did not wish to teach me. With that display of magic, his plans just have to move up. He handed me a chest filled with coin, new clothes, and some tomes. In a flurry, I was on the first trade caravan out of there.” Yanig sighs. “Now I am here.”
“Wow, way to rush past any useful bits of information!” Doa scoffs.
Yanig stands up and stretches, making it clear those are his final words on the matter. “Who is ready for some reading?” he asks while yawning.
“Maybe tomorrow,” Doa is the first to answer and leave.
“Yes, let’s see what treasure we found,” Saqwe answers, and Ruben nods in agreement. Everyone else, including Taek, takes their leave. “I will look forward to your teachings,” Taek says, making the excuse on behalf of the rest.
The next morning, Yanig walks down the line of attendees at the impromptu assembly on the training grounds. “Good morning, everyone. Thank you for joining. Since no one cares to read, we will jump to the practical.” Yanig’s smirk at the end sends cold shivers down everyone’s spines.
Saqwe steps forward and splits the large group of a hundred or so into three smaller groups. “Okay, now this group will perform the tasks as normal. Second group, you will do the task using the technique Ruben will teach you. Third group, you join Yanig.”
Doa smiles to himself as he notes how everyone just nods silently and splits into their groups with Saqwe in charge. A sharp slap to his back from Saqwe reminds him to go join the normal group.
“Okay, first and second groups, step up. Each of you is rather well-rounded, so you should not have issues casting. Anyway, we will be using the tribe's grimoire, so none of the spells should be unknown to you.”
Groups one and two step to a line in the sand and wait for further instruction. “Okay! You illiterates... I mean, the first spell is simply Fire Spark. Please do take care to send it forward and away. We will do this one by one.”
Saqwe nods to the first member of group one. “From light to flame,” the girl casts. A simple flickering light appears and floats forward, just as it would when they wish to start a simple fire.
The spells in the tribe's grimoire are nothing if not useful. “You!” Saqwe quickly chastises the next man, a chunky mule of a man who quickly stutters through his casting. Last in the line for group one is Doa. Everyone else has more or less the same output.
Doa casts his, trying his best to keep in mind how the others' results looked. “Dammit!” he says, shaking his head and watching his tiny fireball flicker out on the sand.
“Fortunately for you, today's training is about power. Still useless, seeing as you can’t control it, but a good comparison for group two,” Saqwe comments, not looking at Doa but in the direction of the scorched sand.
“Now, you all must first follow Ruben’s instructions and then cast the exact same spell!” Saqwe announces to group two, and they begin. By the end, group one is standing huddled together behind Saqwe, some mouths agape as each member of group two performs the same spell but far more powerfully.
“A few of them even made more of a mess than I did,” Doa comments.
“Not so special now, are you?” Saqwe chirps back.
“That hurts,” Doa answers, mocking a pained expression.
“Group three!!” Saqwe calls. “This is going to be exciting,” she says to herself, sparking interest in everyone who hears her nearby. “Quiet and step back!” Saqwe quickly gets everyone under control.
Yanig steps to the front with group three now filling the line. “Okay, my group, remember you can do this. You show them the power of Team Yanig!” he cheers, and the whole group lets out a hoorah in return.
“Really?” Saqwe scoffs.
“You are just jelly because I am personable,” Yanig retorts, then continues his instruction. “So, same spell, but in three levels as we practiced.”
Group three begins with Yanig and Saqwe walking down the line. “Impressive,” Saqwe says under her breath as each person easily replicates the spell. First, they cast it as intended: a simple spark that flickers out after a moment. Second, Doa’s mini fireball. And third...
“That is basically a firestorm. I don’t want to hear anyone complain about my spells going haywire again,” Doa says.
“That is pretty much the upper limit for the spell itself,” Yanig answers, then turns to everyone assembled. “Now we will go into only two groups, since we won’t need the baseline anymore.”
As training continues and everyone gets accustomed to learning the new methods, Doa notes how similar the methods are to what he has been practicing himself, but in a more clear, procedure-based way. While practicing channeling in Yanig's group, he can’t help but smile as he thinks of the potential.
“So this is why the Capital Realm tries to control magic?” he finally asks Yanig on their break.
“Pretty much. Most of this I have only been able to touch on and never could pinpoint the exact workings,” Yanig says. “The tomes my master gave me only included most of the tribe's cantrips and, oddly, a lot of information about surviving in desolate areas.” Yanig trails off. ‘I hope you are well, master’, he thinks.
“Oh, uhm, yes, well. The Capital Realm truly believes there will be an uprising if advanced magic knowledge gets into the hands of the people. It is the age-old story, really; they use it to control and show power. Insidious,” Yanig concludes, shaking his shoulders as though shivering.
“What is the Capital Realm's blessing? Like we have sand and wind in the desert, but what do they get?” Doa asks while the answers are forthcoming.
“Ma-gic de-tec-tion.” Yanig frowns, slowly uttering every syllable. It is probably okay, he thinks. ‘We are in the middle of nowhere, right? No, we can take them. We have the knowledge they tried to hide. Blast them!’ Doa tilts his head, watching Yanig’s mind spiral, and decides to let the man be and join his group.
After everyone finishes a cycle of intent alignment and channeling, Yanig and Saqwe smile as they watch the groups lie in the sand exhausted. Having pushed everyone to their limits, some are even passed out beneath the setting sun. “Ah, such a wonderful sight,” Saqwe muses.
“Yes, I am very proud of everyone,” Yanig adds.
“No, I mean now these layabouts are feeling the pain of their ignorance,” Saqwe corrects him.
Unlike the others, Doa still has enough energy to at least sit back comfortably and work on his channeling. Next to him, Ruben is sprawled out, not having been excluded from the training either. “Ruben, Ruben, you awake?” Doa asks, receiving a simple grunt in response. “Do you think I will still be able to compete against the others?”
Ruben quickly opens his eyes and sits up. “What do you mean?”
“Well, now that we all know these techniques, many of them already have the same power as me. Do you think I will just become an average mage?” Doa looks away toward the sunset, his voice dropping to almost a whisper.
“Well, you also got better today, didn't you? Not by much in power, but that is also the inherent limits of the spell. Your control grew leaps and bounds. Honestly, Doa, I think no one here realizes the training you put in. Just based on that, I have no doubt you can stay ‘competitive,’ as you put it.” Ruben pats him on the back then gets up, leaving Doa to his thoughts.
‘I never was good at anything back home’, Doa thinks. Then he casts the thought aside as he does with things of the past. Instead, he focuses on channeling his will through his body. Feeling the magic course through his veins will be his new thrill to chase.
Before the final glow of the sun gives way to the encroaching dark, everyone heads back to the camp, now a village.
Yanig, noticing Doa’s distant look, quickly falls in beside him. “You know, you still have plenty of potential and growth left. That should make you quite happy, young man,” he tells Doa, leaning in a bit conspiratorially.
“I know,” Doa says simply.
“Okay,” Yanig smiles, ignoring Doa’s self-pity. “I wanted to ask you: are your parents, or someone in your lineage, a dragon perhaps?”
Doa stops in his tracks. Yanig realizes a moment later and backpedals. “I am not a dragon,” Doa says and begins walking again, causing Yanig to catch up.
“I am just asking because, in the books we have, a few briefly talk about sourcing, and the descriptions are remarkably similar to how you conjure brand new spells.” Yanig frowns and rubs his chin, contemplating. “The only problem is, they always relate it to dragons. Not that you are one, clearly. Still, exciting, isn't it?” Yanig, not expecting a reply, continues walking alongside Doa, humming to himself and looking forward to learning more and more.
After a long moment, Doa, still looking at the ground in front of him as he walks, asks, “Will the Capital come for us?”
Yanig continues humming before answering, “Maybe.”