[Dextrous Hands has reached Level 2!]
[Flutter Feet has reached Level 2!]
[Human Bone, Human Flesh, and Human Musculature have reached Level 2!]
[Human Brain has reached Level 3!]
[Human Heart has reached Level 2!]
[Adrenaline Gland has reached Level 2!]
The days passed me by, turning into weeks, months, and even years. I never had to go to church again, which was great. That was a waste of time put to better use. Even my parents stopped going because they never enjoyed it either, and while there were the occasional people who came by to bother us about it, nothing really bad came of declining their advances. A bit of shunning and rumors didn’t really do much, when our own actual close circles were tight.
I spent a lot of time napping, as a baby should. I played with my enchanted toys, for even to this day I was still enamored by the smallest applications of magic.
I learned about this world. The planet of Varayala, the Angelore Empire, and more. Our house had a big study, and the first thing I did was to consume all the ones meant for entertainment within. Mom and Dad asked me directly if I was even interested in children’s books given… my past, but I reassured them that it was fine, and that I would love to have them continue reading me bedtime stories. It was good fun.
I made new friends, though most of them were from the same place. I frequented the orphanage a lot just to hang out and play. I just liked the vibes there better, than pretty much anywhere else. Even the children had all these vague customs about who took the lead, and who decided what games we were playing that day. There was even some unspoken bullshit about letting certain races win more for whatever stupid fucking reason. I just got into fights over it, and no one enjoyed themselves. It wasn’t worth it.
Only the orphanage was different in this regard, because of how equally Luine and Salaire treated their children. If I actually wanted to play with the other children, then that was where I went.
_________________
Name: Haell Zharignan
Species: Human
—Mutations—
Human Heart: Level 2
Human Brain: Level 3
Human Skin: Level 2
Human Eyes: Level 2
Human Flesh / Human Bones / Enduring Musculature(synced) : (All) Level 2
Dextrous Hands: Level 2
Flutter Feet: Level 2
Adrenaline Gland: Level 2
—Soul Feats—
Reincarnator
_________________
I’d grown stronger throughout the first four years of my life. I’d gained levels just from playing like a child should. My body grew stronger through both my Mutations, and by simply growing up and becoming bigger.
I decided that I’d given myself a happy enough second childhood, and that it was time to begin the grind to reach for the horizons that I desired. I didn’t know yet how I could possibly become a demon, but I had heard of this thing called Mutation Mutation. It’s when someone uses the material from some other creature to enhance an existing Mutation upon reaching the evolution threshold. It was absurdly dangerous and rarely ever worked, but I wanted to try. That was my best and only plan at this point.
In order to even try, I needed to reach level 10 in something.
The leveling of Mutations was a vague and uncertain process. What worked for someone might not work for another, some were just talented in strange ways, earning levels for seemingly doing jack shit.
I was not one of those people. My average ass would reach level 10 around my twenties(age), and I would stay there for the vast majority of my life if I lived normally. I needed to take more drastic measures. I needed to train and exert myself.
Using one’s Mutation was generally accepted to be a good way to speed up the acquisition of levels. The amount varied, and sometimes people could hardly see a difference despite working twice as hard. But I resolved myself to try.
Demonhood would not be handed to be on a hellish platter. Which was unfortunate, I would really prefer it if it was. But failing to get all that I wanted for free, I was more than prepared to work for it.
~~~
The skies were clear, the sun was shining, and the peaceful winds blew across my hair as I sat in the gentle shadow of a tree.
The one thing on my mind on this beautiful day was violence and war.
…Okay. That was two things. They come in a bundle!
I sat on our hill, in the mini garden that I’d requested Baston to magic up. It was very fun to watch plants grow so fast, and I knew Baston’s magic could make them into whips and vines and thorns that could restrain and vanquish a foe. I imagined for a moment wielding those powers for myself, it certainly seemed fun.
My thoughts returned to more primitive and mundane methods. I also wanted to be a powerhouse in martial prowess, so I was considering all the many options that I had to gut and crush my foes. From swords that could cut off limbs, to axes that could cleave through armor and flesh. Hammers that delivered heavy blows, spears that skewered hearts aplenty. I could also go for bows that could let me strike from afar, or a scythe for maximum cool factor!
There were so many to choose from, and I knew I wasn’t going to master everything. I could hardly use them all at once to begin with. So I had to pick one. I couldn’t have a harem of both sharp and blunt objects. Proper violence required proper commitment. And while I rarely ever had that for people, I would never cheat on my sword!!
So which to choose, which to choose…
The image of myself as a demon ramming through hordes of soldiers and beheading entire dragons sent a wonderful shiver through my spine. I couldn’t wait to get to that future… and I believe I have made my choice.
I felt bad for all the other cute and sexy weapons, but there was only one thing befitting that of a proper Demon Lord.
A classic, something that exuded the simple brutality that I sought, but with a high skill ceiling that would reward mastery and finesse. A weapon that I wanted to learn, an image that would not be remiss in my hands hundreds of levels later.
The Greatsword.
~~~
All that thinking made me hungry, so I went back inside the house to find myself a snack. One direboar sandwich and a full belly later, and I was back at our front lawn, looking for a stick.
There were plenty of twigs and things to choose from, but none of them were quite right. I turned my search towards our trees instead, and I climbed their trunks to find myself a good branch. I snapped a few, until I finally found one that was kind of around the proper length.
It was still far from the proper shape, but it’d have to do for now. I swung it around a few times, imagining that I was a demon, and that my blade was cleaving through entire armies of monsters and more. I pictured all the angels and how they must fight, swinging around their weapon limbs, or moving in very unnatural ways for the archangels.
I had absolutely no idea what I was doing.
Thankfully, I knew someone who did. I’d be lying if the availability of training did not serve a factor at all in my decision making. But my reasoning was still sound.
Dad strode out of the house just in time, carrying his own greatsword that looked quite a fair bit more imposing than my own. I did not let that discourage me, however. I returned his nod and watched as he descended down our hill. Only once he was halfway down did he focus. I could almost feel the surrounding air pause in his vicinity, as if the world itself held its breath.
And then he swung. It was a motion that flowed so well, I almost missed that it happened all. The wind parted seamlessly upon his slash, but it also exploded out into a heavy gust. The people that lived around us were very much used to him already, but my dad still demanded a fair bit of attention, especially from curious kids who enjoyed a good show.
Dad continued his exercises, uncaring. His movements glowed from techniques to stances, switching between a classic overhead slash, to a light and graceful stab. He swept his arms in a wide arc, he dug in his feet to put forth more force behind a single blow, and his sword flashed in a flurry of motion that only appeared as vague blurs. I had to strain my eyes and my mind just to keep up, and even then I failed, but I at least caught some of the way my dad carried himself and more.
I stood back up and carried my own stick of a sword. I swung it in all the ways that I saw my father do. I glanced back down the hill at him and focused, understanding more of what it was that I must do. I followed what I could of the movements of his arms, and I gradually adjusted my grip, bringing it even just a micrometer closer to the perfection right in front of me.
It wasn’t until a while had passed that I noticed the lack of footwork in my movements. I corrected for that, and instantly found my focus having trouble doing it all at once. So I focused on footwork for the moment. My feet shifted rapidly as I tried to decipher the borderline dance that my dad was doing. He slowed down after a time, and I knew it was only for my benefit that he did. I memorized all the patterns that emerged, carving the movements into both my mind and body with every passing iteration. Slowly, as the day wore on, I finally began to incorporate the footwork properly with my sword swings. The proper balance, the proper stances, the proper mixtures. I watched my father like a hawk and absorbed it all. This was what my Human Brain was made to do.
Unyielding effort, relentless training, trance-like repetition. I saw the mistakes in my stance, I fixed the way I carried myself with every stroke, my movements grew more graceful with every cycle. I took advantage of every Mutation and every part of my current existence, for no matter how I yearned to become a demon, I was a human right now, and I would not neglect my current powers and capabilities.
The future that I desired could not be reached if I hold anything back for stupid and inane reasons.
My arms began to hurt, and my legs felt like jelly, but I paid them no mind. Sweat poured out of my body, but that only made the embrace of the wind cooler. Every thump of my heart was like a gong ringing through flesh and bone, a constant building pressure that had finally reached a whole new peak today, but I knew that it was not my enemy. I panted from the sheer exertion, every breath was a struggle, yet it was never enough to bring me down. I just kept on swinging my sword over and over, memorizing the routine and improving upon it with every iteration. My mind processed it all, and from the patterns, the beginnings of a more complex framework was built. To be able to move as if without thought, to act in a manner that almost seemed automatic. New instincts were being carved into my very soul.
Yes. This is the goal. Demons rule, but I’m yet a human, and I’ll be damned if I do not make full use of what I have!
I finally collapsed into a heap, the sun bearing down on me from above. My heart continued to thunder in my chest, almost painful, but never quite crossing that threshold. It was well past midday, and I was both exhausted and starving. It truly went to show just how effective Mutations were, even with how low-level mine still were. I didn’t even know if I could’ve kept that up for that long at any point in my past life, even in the highest point of my prime.
“Haell. Are you alright?” The world suddenly darkened as a shadow passed overhead. It was my dad, and I answered him with a loud grumble of my stomach.
He allowed me to rest for a good few minutes before he carried me inside.
[Human Heart has reached Level 3!]
~~~
"So, Haell…" Mom started, in between bites. We were currently having dinner. "I heard you learned to wield the sword earlier from your father?"
"Yep!" I said, taking a big bite out of my own meal. I had grown enough to gorge on common meat, like this firm piece of chicken in between my teeth.
"That's great!" Mom smiled. She spoke not in Angelian, but in Varyalan Standard. It was the language nearly everyone on the planet spoke, until the angels came along. "Is that what you wish for in your future? Normally, I'd tell you to experience lots of things and figure out what you want from there. And I still think you should. But you are… wiser than most kids, I suppose. Given that you remember your past lives."
"Well… I definitely want to learn and experience lots of things, Mom! Maybe some other weapon would fit me…" I replied in the same language. I realized that my words were not very enthusiastic. I didn’t want to switch to something else. After just one day of practice, not even with a real sword but with a stick, I had already fallen in love with the art of it.
This had never happened before, and I knew how to use weapons in my past life. From common guns, to military knives, I'd received some admittedly informal training with them, but I was never this passionate about any of them. It was just a tool to use for self-defense. Not a wonderful way to move my body, like I now felt about the sword.
There was, however, one other thing that I definitely wished to learn. Something that my mom was an expert in. "Can you teach me magic?"
Her eyes widened, almost sparkling. "Yes! Of course!" she nodded, excited. "It can be very dangerous though, so make sure to listen to my instructions, and to never try using the wands without adult supervision." She whispered something, in the end, "Unless if it's really necessary, or you're in danger. Of course."
"Okay!" I agreed with a downright infectious smile on my face, almost uncaring of all the rules and regulations that she laid out.
~~~
"Okay. So. I'm going to teach you magic."
My expression brightened at Mom's words, and I immediately reached out to grab the wand. She instantly pulled it out of my reach.
I pouted.
"Nuh-uh-uh," she said, pacing across our front yard. We were still speaking in Varyalan, much as it might be socially frowned upon. The hill was decently separated from everyone else, and I was trying to get all the practice that I could. It’d be important once I start venturing past the borders of Angelore. "This is not a toy. You are not to use it without my express permission. For that matter, don't use blades either without supervision. I don't know if Rallem has already told you that."
I rolled my eyes a little. "Yes Mom…"
She laughed. "I will teach you magic, but we gotta take it slow, understand?"
"Yes," I nodded, this time with more enthusiasm.
Mom crouched and sat cross-legged after that, so that we may be closer to eye level. She showed me the wand, and began explaining how it works.
"There are components to the wand. First is the focus, usually placed at its very head." She pointed at the star at the tip of the wand. "This is what allows for the manipulation of mana in the first place."
"Next are the repositories." She gestured towards the fractal gem embedded in the center of the body. "This acts as a storage for the mana. Without mana, then there is no magic to be done. Are you following so far?"
I nodded, and asked a question, "Why use a wand then, instead of just sticking those components onto say a sword?"
"A very good question!" she cheered. "That is… a complicated one. But it's commonly understood that magic is performed by one's mind, using a focus as the tool, and the repository as fuel. That connection, if artificial like with us humans who aren't born able to wield magic, is best facilitated with something roughly shaped like a wand or a staff."
"No one's sure why that's the case," she continued to explain. "Swordsmen always love to go on and on about how they are 'one with the blade' and all that nonsense… and yet the sword doesn't function nearly as well as a magic conduit even in the hands of a master."
"What about if you just used the focus and repository as is?" I asked.
Mom chuckled. "That works even worse."
"Oh," I puzzled it out in my mind. "But… why?"
Mom laughed again. "It's good to be curious, Haell. Never forget that. Maybe you'll figure it out for certain one day… That being said, there are theories about it. Do you want to hear them?"
"Yes! Definitely yes!" I stared at her with intensity.
"Okay, okay!" she acquiesced. "Alright, so the leading theory right now I would say, is that it has something to do with how Rituals and Enchantments work."
"Rituals and Enchantments?"
"Yes. We won't get into that today, or we'll be here all day. But speeding through an explanation, Rituals are stronger but temporary, whereas enchantments, like the ones we have in the house, are permanent but weaker. They also require mana and a repository or two to power them."
I knew that enchantments were artistic carvings, filled in with magical materials, that depict the sort of effect you wish to accomplish.
"I see." I committed everything my mother said to memory.
"They typically require different materials, but there are methods that work equally well for either. And yet Rituals never fail to be stronger than its counterpart. It is widely accepted that the temporary nature of it, in itself, holds great magical significance."
"Okay…" I was unsure what that had to do with staves and wands.
"In the same way that the permanence or lack thereof of something can have magical significance, I believe that wands and staves have magical significance as well. Other weapons and tools are meant to do something else… but wands and staves are widely believed to be related to magic, the tools with which to wield the mystical arts."
"Oh." My eyes widened. The sensation of a puzzle clicking into place was intoxicating. "Oh! Clever! I believe you Mom!"
She smiled, and scooped me up into a hug. "Thank you, Haell. I believe me too."
MaouRazonica
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[Dextrous Hands has reached Level 2!]
[Flutter Feet has reached Level 2!]
[Human Bone, Human Flesh, and Human Musculature have reached Level 2!]
[Human Brain has reached Level 3!]
[Human Heart has reached Level 2!]
[Adrenaline Gland has reached Level 2!]
The days passed me by, turning into weeks, months, and even years. I never had to go to church again, which was great. That was a waste of time put to better use. Even my parents stopped going because they never enjoyed it either, and while there were the occasional people who came by to bother us about it, nothing really bad came of declining their advances. A bit of shunning and rumors didn’t really do much, when our own actual close circles were tight.
I spent a lot of time napping, as a baby should. I played with my enchanted toys, for even to this day I was still enamored by the smallest applications of magic.
I learned about this world. The planet of Varayala, the Angelore Empire, and more. Our house had a big study, and the first thing I did was to consume all the ones meant for entertainment within. Mom and Dad asked me directly if I was even interested in children’s books given… my past, but I reassured them that it was fine, and that I would love to have them continue reading me bedtime stories. It was good fun.
I made new friends, though most of them were from the same place. I frequented the orphanage a lot just to hang out and play. I just liked the vibes there better, than pretty much anywhere else. Even the children had all these vague customs about who took the lead, and who decided what games we were playing that day. There was even some unspoken bullshit about letting certain races win more for whatever stupid fucking reason. I just got into fights over it, and no one enjoyed themselves. It wasn’t worth it.
Only the orphanage was different in this regard, because of how equally Luine and Salaire treated their children. If I actually wanted to play with the other children, then that was where I went.
_________________
Name: Haell Zharignan
Species: Human
—Mutations—
Human Heart: Level 2
Human Brain: Level 3
Human Skin: Level 2
Human Eyes: Level 2
Human Flesh / Human Bones / Enduring Musculature(synced) : (All) Level 2
Dextrous Hands: Level 2
Flutter Feet: Level 2
Adrenaline Gland: Level 2
—Soul Feats—
Reincarnator
_________________
I’d grown stronger throughout the first four years of my life. I’d gained levels just from playing like a child should. My body grew stronger through both my Mutations, and by simply growing up and becoming bigger.
I decided that I’d given myself a happy enough second childhood, and that it was time to begin the grind to reach for the horizons that I desired. I didn’t know yet how I could possibly become a demon, but I had heard of this thing called Mutation Mutation. It’s when someone uses the material from some other creature to enhance an existing Mutation upon reaching the evolution threshold. It was absurdly dangerous and rarely ever worked, but I wanted to try. That was my best and only plan at this point.
In order to even try, I needed to reach level 10 in something.
The leveling of Mutations was a vague and uncertain process. What worked for someone might not work for another, some were just talented in strange ways, earning levels for seemingly doing jack shit.
I was not one of those people. My average ass would reach level 10 around my twenties(age), and I would stay there for the vast majority of my life if I lived normally. I needed to take more drastic measures. I needed to train and exert myself.
Using one’s Mutation was generally accepted to be a good way to speed up the acquisition of levels. The amount varied, and sometimes people could hardly see a difference despite working twice as hard. But I resolved myself to try.
Demonhood would not be handed to be on a hellish platter. Which was unfortunate, I would really prefer it if it was. But failing to get all that I wanted for free, I was more than prepared to work for it.
~~~
The skies were clear, the sun was shining, and the peaceful winds blew across my hair as I sat in the gentle shadow of a tree.
The one thing on my mind on this beautiful day was violence and war.
…Okay. That was two things. They come in a bundle!
I sat on our hill, in the mini garden that I’d requested Baston to magic up. It was very fun to watch plants grow so fast, and I knew Baston’s magic could make them into whips and vines and thorns that could restrain and vanquish a foe. I imagined for a moment wielding those powers for myself, it certainly seemed fun.
My thoughts returned to more primitive and mundane methods. I also wanted to be a powerhouse in martial prowess, so I was considering all the many options that I had to gut and crush my foes. From swords that could cut off limbs, to axes that could cleave through armor and flesh. Hammers that delivered heavy blows, spears that skewered hearts aplenty. I could also go for bows that could let me strike from afar, or a scythe for maximum cool factor!
There were so many to choose from, and I knew I wasn’t going to master everything. I could hardly use them all at once to begin with. So I had to pick one. I couldn’t have a harem of both sharp and blunt objects. Proper violence required proper commitment. And while I rarely ever had that for people, I would never cheat on my sword!!
So which to choose, which to choose…
The image of myself as a demon ramming through hordes of soldiers and beheading entire dragons sent a wonderful shiver through my spine. I couldn’t wait to get to that future… and I believe I have made my choice.
I felt bad for all the other cute and sexy weapons, but there was only one thing befitting that of a proper Demon Lord.
A classic, something that exuded the simple brutality that I sought, but with a high skill ceiling that would reward mastery and finesse. A weapon that I wanted to learn, an image that would not be remiss in my hands hundreds of levels later.
The Greatsword.
~~~
All that thinking made me hungry, so I went back inside the house to find myself a snack. One direboar sandwich and a full belly later, and I was back at our front lawn, looking for a stick.
There were plenty of twigs and things to choose from, but none of them were quite right. I turned my search towards our trees instead, and I climbed their trunks to find myself a good branch. I snapped a few, until I finally found one that was kind of around the proper length.
It was still far from the proper shape, but it’d have to do for now. I swung it around a few times, imagining that I was a demon, and that my blade was cleaving through entire armies of monsters and more. I pictured all the angels and how they must fight, swinging around their weapon limbs, or moving in very unnatural ways for the archangels.
I had absolutely no idea what I was doing.
Thankfully, I knew someone who did. I’d be lying if the availability of training did not serve a factor at all in my decision making. But my reasoning was still sound.
Dad strode out of the house just in time, carrying his own greatsword that looked quite a fair bit more imposing than my own. I did not let that discourage me, however. I returned his nod and watched as he descended down our hill. Only once he was halfway down did he focus. I could almost feel the surrounding air pause in his vicinity, as if the world itself held its breath.
And then he swung. It was a motion that flowed so well, I almost missed that it happened all. The wind parted seamlessly upon his slash, but it also exploded out into a heavy gust. The people that lived around us were very much used to him already, but my dad still demanded a fair bit of attention, especially from curious kids who enjoyed a good show.
Dad continued his exercises, uncaring. His movements glowed from techniques to stances, switching between a classic overhead slash, to a light and graceful stab. He swept his arms in a wide arc, he dug in his feet to put forth more force behind a single blow, and his sword flashed in a flurry of motion that only appeared as vague blurs. I had to strain my eyes and my mind just to keep up, and even then I failed, but I at least caught some of the way my dad carried himself and more.
I stood back up and carried my own stick of a sword. I swung it in all the ways that I saw my father do. I glanced back down the hill at him and focused, understanding more of what it was that I must do. I followed what I could of the movements of his arms, and I gradually adjusted my grip, bringing it even just a micrometer closer to the perfection right in front of me.
It wasn’t until a while had passed that I noticed the lack of footwork in my movements. I corrected for that, and instantly found my focus having trouble doing it all at once. So I focused on footwork for the moment. My feet shifted rapidly as I tried to decipher the borderline dance that my dad was doing. He slowed down after a time, and I knew it was only for my benefit that he did. I memorized all the patterns that emerged, carving the movements into both my mind and body with every passing iteration. Slowly, as the day wore on, I finally began to incorporate the footwork properly with my sword swings. The proper balance, the proper stances, the proper mixtures. I watched my father like a hawk and absorbed it all. This was what my Human Brain was made to do.
Unyielding effort, relentless training, trance-like repetition. I saw the mistakes in my stance, I fixed the way I carried myself with every stroke, my movements grew more graceful with every cycle. I took advantage of every Mutation and every part of my current existence, for no matter how I yearned to become a demon, I was a human right now, and I would not neglect my current powers and capabilities.
The future that I desired could not be reached if I hold anything back for stupid and inane reasons.
My arms began to hurt, and my legs felt like jelly, but I paid them no mind. Sweat poured out of my body, but that only made the embrace of the wind cooler. Every thump of my heart was like a gong ringing through flesh and bone, a constant building pressure that had finally reached a whole new peak today, but I knew that it was not my enemy. I panted from the sheer exertion, every breath was a struggle, yet it was never enough to bring me down. I just kept on swinging my sword over and over, memorizing the routine and improving upon it with every iteration. My mind processed it all, and from the patterns, the beginnings of a more complex framework was built. To be able to move as if without thought, to act in a manner that almost seemed automatic. New instincts were being carved into my very soul.
Yes. This is the goal. Demons rule, but I’m yet a human, and I’ll be damned if I do not make full use of what I have!
I finally collapsed into a heap, the sun bearing down on me from above. My heart continued to thunder in my chest, almost painful, but never quite crossing that threshold. It was well past midday, and I was both exhausted and starving. It truly went to show just how effective Mutations were, even with how low-level mine still were. I didn’t even know if I could’ve kept that up for that long at any point in my past life, even in the highest point of my prime.
“Haell. Are you alright?” The world suddenly darkened as a shadow passed overhead. It was my dad, and I answered him with a loud grumble of my stomach.
He allowed me to rest for a good few minutes before he carried me inside.
[Human Heart has reached Level 3!]
~~~
"So, Haell…" Mom started, in between bites. We were currently having dinner. "I heard you learned to wield the sword earlier from your father?"
"Yep!" I said, taking a big bite out of my own meal. I had grown enough to gorge on common meat, like this firm piece of chicken in between my teeth.
"That's great!" Mom smiled. She spoke not in Angelian, but in Varyalan Standard. It was the language nearly everyone on the planet spoke, until the angels came along. "Is that what you wish for in your future? Normally, I'd tell you to experience lots of things and figure out what you want from there. And I still think you should. But you are… wiser than most kids, I suppose. Given that you remember your past lives."
"Well… I definitely want to learn and experience lots of things, Mom! Maybe some other weapon would fit me…" I replied in the same language. I realized that my words were not very enthusiastic. I didn’t want to switch to something else. After just one day of practice, not even with a real sword but with a stick, I had already fallen in love with the art of it.
This had never happened before, and I knew how to use weapons in my past life. From common guns, to military knives, I'd received some admittedly informal training with them, but I was never this passionate about any of them. It was just a tool to use for self-defense. Not a wonderful way to move my body, like I now felt about the sword.
There was, however, one other thing that I definitely wished to learn. Something that my mom was an expert in. "Can you teach me magic?"
Her eyes widened, almost sparkling. "Yes! Of course!" she nodded, excited. "It can be very dangerous though, so make sure to listen to my instructions, and to never try using the wands without adult supervision." She whispered something, in the end, "Unless if it's really necessary, or you're in danger. Of course."
"Okay!" I agreed with a downright infectious smile on my face, almost uncaring of all the rules and regulations that she laid out.
~~~
"Okay. So. I'm going to teach you magic."
My expression brightened at Mom's words, and I immediately reached out to grab the wand. She instantly pulled it out of my reach.
I pouted.
"Nuh-uh-uh," she said, pacing across our front yard. We were still speaking in Varyalan, much as it might be socially frowned upon. The hill was decently separated from everyone else, and I was trying to get all the practice that I could. It’d be important once I start venturing past the borders of Angelore. "This is not a toy. You are not to use it without my express permission. For that matter, don't use blades either without supervision. I don't know if Rallem has already told you that."
I rolled my eyes a little. "Yes Mom…"
She laughed. "I will teach you magic, but we gotta take it slow, understand?"
"Yes," I nodded, this time with more enthusiasm.
Mom crouched and sat cross-legged after that, so that we may be closer to eye level. She showed me the wand, and began explaining how it works.
"There are components to the wand. First is the focus, usually placed at its very head." She pointed at the star at the tip of the wand. "This is what allows for the manipulation of mana in the first place."
"Next are the repositories." She gestured towards the fractal gem embedded in the center of the body. "This acts as a storage for the mana. Without mana, then there is no magic to be done. Are you following so far?"
I nodded, and asked a question, "Why use a wand then, instead of just sticking those components onto say a sword?"
"A very good question!" she cheered. "That is… a complicated one. But it's commonly understood that magic is performed by one's mind, using a focus as the tool, and the repository as fuel. That connection, if artificial like with us humans who aren't born able to wield magic, is best facilitated with something roughly shaped like a wand or a staff."
"No one's sure why that's the case," she continued to explain. "Swordsmen always love to go on and on about how they are 'one with the blade' and all that nonsense… and yet the sword doesn't function nearly as well as a magic conduit even in the hands of a master."
"What about if you just used the focus and repository as is?" I asked.
Mom chuckled. "That works even worse."
"Oh," I puzzled it out in my mind. "But… why?"
Mom laughed again. "It's good to be curious, Haell. Never forget that. Maybe you'll figure it out for certain one day… That being said, there are theories about it. Do you want to hear them?"
"Yes! Definitely yes!" I stared at her with intensity.
"Okay, okay!" she acquiesced. "Alright, so the leading theory right now I would say, is that it has something to do with how Rituals and Enchantments work."
"Rituals and Enchantments?"
"Yes. We won't get into that today, or we'll be here all day. But speeding through an explanation, Rituals are stronger but temporary, whereas enchantments, like the ones we have in the house, are permanent but weaker. They also require mana and a repository or two to power them."
I knew that enchantments were artistic carvings, filled in with magical materials, that depict the sort of effect you wish to accomplish.
"I see." I committed everything my mother said to memory.
"They typically require different materials, but there are methods that work equally well for either. And yet Rituals never fail to be stronger than its counterpart. It is widely accepted that the temporary nature of it, in itself, holds great magical significance."
"Okay…" I was unsure what that had to do with staves and wands.
"In the same way that the permanence or lack thereof of something can have magical significance, I believe that wands and staves have magical significance as well. Other weapons and tools are meant to do something else… but wands and staves are widely believed to be related to magic, the tools with which to wield the mystical arts."
"Oh." My eyes widened. The sensation of a puzzle clicking into place was intoxicating. "Oh! Clever! I believe you Mom!"
She smiled, and scooped me up into a hug. "Thank you, Haell. I believe me too."
MaouRazonica
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