Morning took longer to come than Sen hoped for, but when it did come, a calm excitement filled him as he looked up into the deep blue sky. A memory in his mind overlaid the world, but he blinked it away, throttling the thumping of his heart and moving past the moment. He focused on that feeling of excitement as he left, waving a goodbye to his parents for the day, and trying to banish the memories that wanted to turn that excitement into baseless trepidation.
They had accepted his sudden aspirations to be a mage without a problem, and Sen found himself thankful for that. They wouldn’t have been able to stop him, but their support certainly made things easier for him.
His mother had looked at him oddly for a bit after he told her he had already managed to persuade Murdin to take him on as an apprentice, perhaps because she was aware that he hadn’t ever taken an apprentice before. Whatever the cause, they bade him the best.
It was a windy day, and with the wind came a chill that gripped at Sen, at times managing even to wear away his warmth spell, requiring him to increase the intensity for a moment.
Idly, he realized that body-channeling his spells seemed to give him significantly more control over them than the normal usage which channeled his mana through a medium. The difference felt small at first, but the more he’d used his warmth spell, the more he noticed the increased control. He wondered if the same would hold true for other spells he knew. He would have to find some time to play around with that.
Murdin sat on a bench in front of his house, precision stylus and a stone in his hands while he waited. He stood as Sen approached, setting the tools down.
“Good morning,” Sen said to the mage, and Murdin responded in kind. The mage waved him to the back of the house where a surprisingly spacious courtyard of packed dirt awaited them. The porch on the back of Murdin’s house held a small armory of wooden weapons, and Murdin pointed toward them.
“Pick one,” he said, “and we’ll get started.” Murdin picked out a simple wooden sword then moved to the center of the courtyard.
Sen looked over the selection. Another sword, a wooden mace carved with a number of flanges, a spear, and several more weapons with a bit more exotic flair than Sen could name sat arrayed before him. Sen decided to keep it simple and took up a spear, moving toward Murdin.
Murdin’s eyes were closed as he moved through the courtyard at a slow but measured pace. He sliced the air with power that belied the slower pace, and Sen watched, impressed, as the mage swept through a number of forms that flowed from slice to thrust without transition. Sen didn’t understand how he did it, but he saw it with his own eyes. However old Murdin might look, he was not someone to underestimate, it seemed.
Finished, Murdin opened his eyes and turned to Sen. He eyed the spear in Sen’s hand, then moved his gaze to check how Sen held it. Satisfied, he began to speak. “While you may not expect the magical arts to focus on using weapons, magic lends itself best to those who are competent with a weapon. Some of the easiest tools to make are those that can kill.
“That is not to say you should ever use these skills to harm others, if you can help it, but it is a waste of your knowledge to be incapable of defending yourself. Further, trouble will eventually find you. Usually, that trouble will be a number of monsters, or perhaps a large monster that hasn’t been dealt with yet. Pray that the only monsters you face are the unthinking kind,” Murdin said.
“We will spar every morning for the foreseeable future, until I deem you skilled enough. Do you understand?”
Sen nodded, then spoke. “I understand.” Murdin held his gaze for a moment before nodding as well.
“Come,” Murdin said, a subtle pressure emanating from the man. Sen knew it was all in his mind, but he had faced combat before, and the man he saw before him held a confidence and ease in himself that exuded threat in a way that he’d never encountered before.
He’d killed hundreds of monsters, but most of those kills were aided by the magic of Ceriddian scrolls, engraved runes that allowed him to cast spells. It was a rare thing that he ever needed to use a weapon alone, without the aid of his magic. A part of him felt excited at the new prospect. Another part realized that he needed to expect disappointment here. Murdin was not an enemy he could hope to defeat, only to learn from.
The spar began simply. Sen stepped forward to thrust, but Murdin batted the length of his spear aside and stepped inside his range. Sen tried to punch at the man, but he merely lifted an arm to send the strike wide. Murdin’s wooden sword already poked against Sen’s stomach.
Despite the quick loss, Murdin smiled. “That is good. You already recognize that a weapon is not your only weapon - you are a weapon as well,” Murdin noted. “Let us continue.”
The sparring continued, frustration growing in Sen with each short bout. He had expected to struggle, but each round showed that struggle was the wrong word. Sen was simply outclassed, incredibly so, with nothing he did ever approaching an actual chance to turn the advantage to himself.
Most of their bouts barely lasted more than a handful of seconds, Murdin turning Sen’s aggression into a liability. Soon enough, Sen tried to tone back on the aggression. Instead of trying to immediately give Murdin what would be a grievous injury with real weapons, he instead focused on attempting to bleed the man, aiming for his arms and legs. Small hits, he hoped, would allow him to slowly climb his way up the mountain before him. It seeemed to work for a moment, with Sen pushing Murdin back - though never actually managing to hit the older man.
Sen seized an opportunity when Murdin overextended, leaving himself open. The spear rushed toward him - and the first hard strike of their spar landed. Sen’s spear had missed, and Murdin’s blade landed hard against his shoulder.
The two of them separated, and Murdin spoke. “I am impressed, Tane. You have good instincts. We will be able to make something of you, I think.” Sen said nothing, breathing hard from the morning’s exertion. Murdin barely seemed out of breath. He fought against the frustration in his mind. It would take time, he knew. It didn’t help.
“How is it that you aren’t even tired?” Sen asked.
Murdin shrugged. “You waste a lot of effort attempting to overpower every little movement. You are also out of shape.”
Sen mentally spluttered at that. Sen had thought he was in remarkably good condition, but apparently not. Tane had spent much of his life running around and playing with those his age in the town, and that athleticism had stayed constant for much of his life. To not only hear that it was less than he had thought, but also to have it proven so clearly chafed at him.
“Don’t worry,” Murdin said, grinning. “You’ll be working on that soon. But that alone won’t be enough. You need experience, as well.
Murdin pointed toward the side of the house. “There’s a basin of clean water. Wash yourself, and then we have errands. You’ll be on planing duty again, but when I get back we will begin your magical journey in earnest.”
Sen sighed at the quick dismissal, but let the cool chill of the water calm his frustration. Murdin had already gone inside, and it took him a few minutes to properly clean the sweat from himself. Thankfully, he had dismissed the warmth spell before their sparring started, and the cool of the morning had ensured he wasn’t too filthy.
Sen moved inside to begin working, only to realize that Murdin had already left. He got to work, mind roving over the many, many mistakes he had noticed Murdin exploit during their spars. It made the dull work of cutting the stones go quickly, and Sen was surprised when Murdin returned a few hours later, a respectable stack of stones sitting in a basket nearby.
Murdin eyed the stack, approval clear on his face. The mage dropped a wrapped package on the table, and Sen opened it to find a sandwich that smelled of spices and made his mouth water. “Eat,” Murdin said. “We’ll go over a basic enchantment after.” Excitement at the prospect made him eat quickly, which Murdin found amusing, but Sen couldn’t bring himself to mind.
It was time.
Murdin pulled a small folding table from behind one of the work benches and set it up in the center of the room. He pulled a chair near to the table, and gestured for Sen to do the same. When the two sat opposite one another, Murdin placed a square paper with a glyph drawn out in exacting detail. Beside it, he set a flat stone with just enough room for the glyph.
“As you have no doubt noticed, glyphs are how we create magic. Your first enchantment will be nonstandard, since we need more wardstones immediately, but thankfully that spell is easy enough to enchant. Once we have a bit more freedom, we can work on the standard repertoire.”
Murdin took a small stylus and began to engrave the stone piece, following the design of the glyph laid out on the paper. Sen followed along while Murdin voiced details and noted aspects of the work that Sen wouldn’t have noticed on his own. Where Sen saw only a conglomeration of lines that seemed to revolve out in a veritable mishmash of confusing directions, Murdin recognized patterns that worked together to build a cohesive whole, and one that could be readily understood simply through those patterns.
Already, Sen had learned more about magic than the books taught him. The feeling refreshed him, and he looked eagerly as Murdin continued his demo. Soon enough, Murdin finished the engraving, but nothing happened. He looked toward Sen. “Can you tell me why nothing has happened?”
Sen looked over the diagram, then at the sample that Murdin had created. It took him a moment, but he realized there was an empty spot where two parts of the design seemed like they were missing a piece. It was easier to tell, here, because the glyph was mirrored in each direction, and the lack, now that Sen spotted it, was glaring. He pointed to the lack. “This part of the glyph is missing,” he said. “There should be a connection.”
Murdin nodded, then added the connection without speaking. To Sen’s surprise, but without lessening his delight, the edges of the flat stone crumbled into dust, leaving the previously somewhat square stone in an almost perfectly circular coin shape. “This is the glyph you’ll be using to cut all the stones you’ve been planing into cylinders for the wardstone designs.”
Sen nodded, at first, but then a thought struck him. “Couldn’t I have done this from the beginning? What was the point of planing the stones?”
“No,” Murdin said, shaking his head. “The planing process is necessary. This spell only works when the four edges of the object are roughly the same, and somewhat flat. It’s a more specific case, and I do have the original which would speed up a significant amount of time, but you did need the practice. It’s also significantly easier to engrave on a flat surface.”
Sen gave him a flat stare. “Oh, calm down. We’ll be going over the proper spell next, but you did need the practice. There’s no way around actually engraving your spells, not if you ever want to be a real mage.”
Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
“Are there mages who don’t do their own engravings?” Sen asked.
Murdin’s face soured like he just had a lemon. “Yes,” he sighed. “Some find it beneath them, or are too lazy, or find any number of other excuses. Those ones like to pay engravers to do stuff for them. It can be a good way, in a pinch, but if you can’t make any of your own spells at will, you sacrifice too much of your ability. Universally, they are lesser mages. Do not become one of them.”
Next, Murdin had Sen attempt his own enchantment. Borrowing Murdin’s stylus, he set into another of the flat stones that Murdin had collected. The stylus bored into the stone easily, with only a bit of pressure required to gouge into the stone. Watching the stylus glide through the stone like clay satisfied him in a way that he’d never realized before, and soon he found himself lost in the moment, the glyph’s design slowly working its way onto the stone.
Sen finished the final connection, and the stone began to crumble - but only parts of it. Instead of a nearly perfect circle, each edge softened to varying degrees. While one crumbled perfectly, another merely lost a few chips. Another developed a layer of dust, while the final seemed to be entirely unaffected.
Immediately, Murdin explained where Sen had gone wrong with his glyph, pointing first at one mistake, then another, then another, until he had noted almost twenty different mistakes. It was frustrating, but Murdin didn’t give him time to dwell on it before setting another stone before him. “Try again,” the mage said, and Sen did so.
This time, the glyph took Sen a bit longer to engrave, but the results were similarly better. Three of the edges disappeared perfectly, and while the final one was a bit misshapen, it was good progress. Even Murdin seemed happy with it. That didn’t stop him from pointing out all the flaws, though thankfully there were many fewer on this iteration.
Murdin had Sen practice several more times, and even took up a large, unmodified stone himself before beginning to flatten one end. It was midway through his fourth enchantment that Sen spoke. “Why do all enchantments use stone?”
Sen felt awkward for a moment, the shattered silence making his idle question seem far more important than he actually thought it was. Murdin spoke after a moment, ignorant of, or uncaring for, the awkward tension that came from the sudden question.
“All enchantments vary based on the object they are engraved into. Some objects provide more power, and last longer. Others do not. Paper does not last long, nor does it provide much power. Stone is everywhere, lasts longer than most alternatives, and is powerful enough for most uses. Metals can be used for cases when greater power and durability is needed, but this is a small town. You haven’t seen any engraved metal because they aren’t worth the cost here.”
That explanation piqued Sen’s interest. His own magic shared a somewhat similar relationship with different objects. The two traditions differed enough that they clearly weren’t related, but he found the similarities close enough to be notable, regardless. Ceriddian magic, as opposed to the magic of engraving enchantments, also varied according to the medium. However, the variances had to do with how many times a spell could be cast. Something inscribed into a stone or a metal would last for potentially hundreds of casts. In contrast, the same spell inscribed into a scroll would burn out the scroll after only a single cast.
That scrolls were more popular - had been more popular - had almost entirely to do with the ease of creating them. Also, pretty much anyone could go to a scroll seller and find a spell for whatever they needed, assuming they had a basic ability to cast spells. Almost everyone did, too. Or, had, at least.
Murdin quirked an eyebrow as Sen’s hand stopped, the glyph half done. “Sorry,” Sen said before restarting.
“Distractions? In my workshop?” Murdin teased him. Sen could feel the mage’s eyes on him.
“Sorry,” Sen repeated himself.
“Your punishment,” Murdin pronounced imperiously, “is to share such what distracts you. Not all of us are so blessed with diversions.”
Sen couldn’t help but chuckle at the man’s sudden break from his normal countenance. Murdin gave a light smile, continuing to work on his own enchantments.
“Are there any other magics out there? Not just engraving glyphs, but other traditions?” Sen asked, not letting his hand stop as he spoke. This glyph was looking like the best yet, despite his minor distractions.
Murdin hummed for a moment, thinking. “I confess to say, I don’t know. It’s possible, I suppose. The world we live in had its own knowledge, before the Crossing. We’ve seen that through various ruins that have been discovered. As to whether any of those ruins held the knowledge of magic from this world, before whatever happened to its people? I couldn’t say.” He drew to a silence, seemingly thinking once more. “What brings this up?”
Sen slowed to a stop, then shrugged, looking toward Murdin. “Curiosity, mostly.” Sen worried Murdin might find that explanation lacking, but the mage didn’t seem to mind it. He wasn’t quite ready to explain everything that had happened to him. It all felt like a fever dream, and he worried that telling someone might make him seem insane. Maybe there wouldn’t be any consequences at all.
Or maybe there would.
Sen continued his work, finishing this glyph to find it nearly flawless, and good enough for Murdin. That was a relief, as Sen had to catch himself multiple times before accidentally etching a mistake indelibly into the stone. Despite the high amount of concentration and effort required to engrave a glyph, it was easy to let the mind wander. The work was precise and difficult, but soothing.
Next, Murdin showed him the glyph enchantment to create a cylinder from an unmodified stone. The step up in complexity was steep, the glyph itself nearly twice as large as the first. Murdin set the larger stone he’d been working on down on the table between them. “You’ll start with a flat surface, first. Jumping directly into engraving a non-standard surface would be asking you to fail.”
Sen felt thankful for that. He hadn’t been looking forward to the practice, and any chance to delay it felt like a blessing. He knew he would have to get to it, eventually - but that didn’t mean he looked forward to it. Hopefully, by the time he got around to that, it wouldn’t be as hard as he thought.
By this point, the work had turned into a novel, but rote, system of following the glyph pattern as outlined on the paper and copying it onto the stone. Despite its larger size, and increased complexity, Sen struggled far less with the new glyph. When he noted it in amusement, Murdin simply shrugged his shoulders. “It’s not that surprising,” he said. “I’m sure you’ve noticed by now, but many of the defining parts of a glyph - lines, curves, squares - are shared with other glyphs. As you get better at any one glyph, others will be easier.”
“Glyphs only use those basic geometries?” Sen asked, continuing to engrave a curving line along the far edge of the stone before him.
Sen saw Murdin shake his head from the side of his eye. “There are plenty more geometries. Some mages actually take the whole concept to an art form, changing the style of the geometries that make up a glyph to build art from the lines and curves. Most of those glyphs don’t do much,” Murdin chuckled. “Pretty, though. Most of those kinds of enchantments are built to glow with light.”
“I’d like to see that, someday,” Sen said idly, checking over the large glyph before him.
“The academy of Forrethine has many such murals,” Murdin said. “Perhaps one day we will go,” he said.
“And leave the town?” Sen said, looking up in surprise. With all the trouble with the wardstones, and monsters encroaching on the village only just a few days before, would it be safe?
A frown crossed Murdin’s face. “Yes,” he said. “We would need to prepare first, but it seems like it may be the only way to get some answers. What is happening with the wardstones? Why has there been increased monster activity lately? I have no way to find answers for these questions - not here, at least.”
With a final scratch, Sen finished the glyph. Nothing happened. With a sigh, he set the stone down. He hadn’t noticed any flaws, none at all. Nonetheless, nothing at all had happened. He missed something crucial. Even his worst attempts on the smaller glyph had made something happen.
His eyes moved back to the glyphed-paper. His eyes roamed over the entire piece, matching parts from the original to his own copy. He found no differences, aside from the small omission at the top which served to prevent the glyph from activating.
He took up the stone once more as Murdin watched on, silent. Like a whisper on the wind, Sen felt an odd sensation - like the pull of mana into a scroll as he channeled a spell. It was minor, so slight that he barely felt it.
At once, he let the hold of his mana go, and immediately, somehow echoing the sensation of two objects snapping together in his mind, the stone dissipated itself into a cylindrical shape.
Sen looked up with his eyes wide. Fiddian magic used mana.
Murdin chuckled at his face, amusement bringing a rare smile to the man. “For a moment, I worried you might be one of the few who struggled with activating magic,” he said.
Struggle? No, no, it was hardly a struggle. In fact, Sen realized as he thought back on it, the struggle had been relinquishing enough control of his mana to allow the glyph to feed on it. Sen had wondered about that - how did a glyph actually activate? Simply engraving certain shapes onto an object couldn’t just cause something to happen. It didn’t make sense.
But if mana was required to perform that link between the glyph and the material, then it all made much more sense.
Murdin’s comment left him confused, though. Struggled to activate enchantments? “What do you mean?”
“Some people cannot use magic. They are simply unable to create any enchantments,” he said, nonchalant. “Normally, everyone is capable of using magic, but rarely, very rarely, there are some who simply cannot. They can perfectly craft a glyphic enchantment, but it doesn’t take. It will not activate unless another mage touches it.”
That didn’t make sense, though. Everyone had mana. It was an intrinsic part of being alive. Sen had only struggled with this specific glyph because it tried to take more mana than any of the previous ones, enough that he naturally resisted the loss. The other enchantments he’d finished must have managed to form their link off the mana he naturally gave off. If someone couldn’t activate glyphs, then the only other option Sen could imagine was that they had an innate control of their mana, enough to prevent it from seeping into a glyph when they finished crafting it.
But how did they not, at least, activate smaller glyphs with their own residual mana? Surely, those few weren’t so naturally gifted that they, somehow, didn’t let off their own residual mana. That would require more control of their mana than Sen had, and without even knowing it existed.
It was a question for later, he decided. It was… interesting, but also something that didn’t have any bearing on the moment at hand.
Sen decided not to share his epiphany - if that is what it was. He didn’t have any reason not to share, but he also didn’t have any reason to share. Again, it came down to his concern about being called insane. He had information he couldn’t reasonably have otherwise, so that might tip the scales in his favor, but to what end?
What did he gain by telling anyone about his previous life? About… Darkness, opening wide…
That decided it. He gained nothing, and he suffered much, and until it was entirely necessary, there was no need for anyone to know. What implications did it truly have, anyway? Maybe, maybe, those few who couldn’t naturally create an enchantment could be prodigies if they understood the magic that Sen already knew?
Possibly. He felt for them - the idea of never being able to learn magic felt like a knife dragging itself across his skin, threatening to plunge into him. He wouldn’t wish that on anyone. However, sharing this little tidbit of knowledge didn’t change anything for them. He wouldn’t be able to change their lives, not unless he could teach them to control their mana enough to let the glyphs form their connection with whatever they were enchanting.
To Sen’s relief, Murdin didn’t seem concerned with his extended, thoughtful silence after the breakthrough. Perhaps he thought Sen was merely working through the simple process of recognizing some indescribable sensation that was associated with ‘linking’ a glyph, as Sen decided to call it.
It had been an odd sensation. It felt as though a small part of his thoughts were sucked away, like the sensation of seeing the same thing all over again.
After Sen’s success with the more complicated glyph, Murdin seemed happy to let Sen continue working on preparing the wardstones before leaving for several more afternoon errands - more deliveries and inspections.
The next day, Murdin promised, he would be helping with the actual work. Sen didn’t really mind - he knew the tedium would begin to grate on him soon enough, but for now, the work was novel, and he felt an excitement as he slowly grew accustomed to the feel of the chisel and hammer in his hands.
Frankly, he thought he was learning at a speed far faster than the normal apprentice. Thankfully, he hammered a little bit too hard a moment after the thought struck him, and ruined an entire glyph by cutting a line between two close arcs that couldn’t intersect without - well, without ruining the glyph.
A sardonic smile came to his lips. Have to focus, he told himself, setting the stone aside. It wasn’t the first mistake he’d made in the time since Murdin had left, though it was the most egregious. Many of the others had been recoverable, but this one he couldn’t help but throw a few self-recriminations for.
No more distractions. Sen bent to the work before him.