Chapter Eight: Arcane Fundamentals III: The Walking Disaster

  Selriph had spent much of the previous day poring over the first chapters of the tomes Vick had entrusted to him: Arcane Foundations and Guide to Basic Magical Theory. These books gave form and structure to the instinct he had honed in secret over the years, spent quietly dabbling with the arcane.

  The content on the pages seemed to align with many moments of curious play with the magical forces at his disposal. The innate truth of magic was spelt plainly in the text before him; Concepts like mana flow, how elements are channelled, and the wider possibilities of magic began to coalesce into a basic schema in his head. Yet, this was only a mere fraction of what lay beyond.

  Now, with those tomes in hand, Selriph once again descended into the carved tunnels, expecting a continuation of yesterday’s lesson.

  Perhaps they would revisit elemental attunement and thoroughly attempt air and water. Or perhaps they would revisit Earth Magic. After all, he had only just done the attunement activity and had yet to conjure even a simple pebble.

  His mind drifted to the unfamiliar framework of terramancy, something that could only be better comprehended with practice–an impossibility in the upper tunnels. He’d had barely any privacy in the crowded Ratway, not to mention the ever-present possibility that Templars might eventually show up searching for him. As the thought crossed into the threshold of his attention, he deliberately let it slip, justifying to himself that they could not pick up his trail that quickly. The tunnels below the city were a labyrinth, after all, he thought.

  As Selriph entered the training chamber, his footsteps slowed. Vick stood near the centre of the room, arms folded, watching two humanoid statues made entirely of stone. They stood about the height of an average man, completely featureless, in the deliberate likeness of a training dummy.

  As he moved to set the tomes down, he could not help but notice the subtle blue hue around the constructs, more obvious now from his current position. A question started to rise in his throat, and Vick muttered before he could articulate his query.

  “Tell me, in your years of self-taught magic, did you ever have to defend yourself with your abilities?” His eyes were still fixed on the earthen dummies.

  Selriph blinked, caught off guard. “Defence…? Like for combat? Combat Evocation? No, I never had to. I kept my practice quiet. Hidden. A spark here, a flicker there, always away from anyone’s eyes. I guess I could probably singe someone if it came to it, but I had never been placed in a situation like that.”

  Vick’s tone grew more measured. “That would make sense… given the reason you are down here in the first place.” He paused, his gaze finally resting on Selriph. “Out there beyond the city, even if you somehow evaded the Templars, there are equally dangerous things out there: highwaymen, bandits, feral wolves. Those are the least of your worries.”

  Vick paused, as if recollecting his encounters with the things he just mentioned, before he continued: “Singeing them would not suffice. You have already demonstrated the ability to control two separate elements. Now, I am curious how you would defend yourself out there. Show me: display whatever you would do if you had to defend yourself with flame and spark; those dummies are your targets.”

  Selriph’s brows drew together. “Curious doesn’t sound good.”

  Vick chuckled. “You’re right to be wary. I must admit your potential intrigues me. The way you grasp theory, the way you channel your magic so naturally, without any formal framework, through what you call instinct. This is partly to satiate that curiosity." He raised his palm, as if anticipating the protest budding in Selriph’s mind.

  "There is a lesson here—but first, I need to know what you can do when you have to defend yourself.” He gestured to the statues. “Show me.”

  “If you say so… I assume I am free to channel my arcane energy for this? I have your…permission? I still don’t have my aura fully in check, even with this pendant.” Selriph looked over, waiting for approval from the old man.

  “We are far enough away from the surface, and you should not have left a trail coming down here. Show me. The full extent of what you could do if you had to fight.”

  The featureless dummies stood silent, like those from the Temple courtyard, though carved from stone rather than wood and straw. Selriph felt an old memory rise, uninvited, of the days in the Templar compounds, standing at the training ground while being berated by instructors, mocked by peers.

  The memory triggered a brief surge of emotion, mirroring his upcoming magical display.

  Selriph raised his hands as he summoned two elements, one in each palm. With his right hand, a flame gathered, swirling and coming into being as a searing orb of red-orange flame. On his left, lightning crackled to life, purple strands arcing and coiling on themselves into an orb shape, with the faintest hint of blue in the arcs. He could feel the energy welling from within him to sustain the elements, a sensation he was all too familiar with.

  In that moment, he actively applied one of Tome’s explanations of spell amplification, something he had already done to increase or vary the heat of flame. Until now, though, he’d always restrained himself, fearing he’d leave visible marks of his practice. Now, though, he imagined that if these two earthen constructs were assailants, no reason to hold back.

  He inhaled as one final surge of energy coalesced into his palm, and then, with a sharp exhalation, he released the two projectiles, one beaming to each statue.

  They struck the statues dead-on with a thunderous crash. The explosion that followed rocked the chamber, a blinding flare of fire and cackling light followed by a shockwave that rattled his feet.

  A thick plume of dust and debris formed over the site of impact. When it had cleared, it revealed the aftermath: the dummies were nowhere in sight. All that could be seen were scattered fragments of charred rock on the floor where they stood. The ground was indented, boring two overlapping craters about a third of a meter deep, scored and cracked, as though a molten hammer had impacted the area.

  Selriph lowered his arms, still tingling from the release.

  Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

  Vick was silent. His mouth hung slightly open, as if his mind hadn’t yet caught up with his eyes.

  When it finally did, the words came.

  “By the gods…” he whispered. “You’re not just a prodigy. You’re a walking disaster waiting to happen.”

  Selriph offered a half-shrug as he shook off the tingling in his arms. “You said to show the full extent, as if I had to defend myself. So I just… poured more into it. It made sense when I read that section on mana concentration in the Arcane Foundations tome, so I decided to apply it.”

  Vick stepped forward, his face taut with disbelief. “Decided to apply—” Vick stopped, letting out an exasperated sigh before continuing, “Those things I made there, they were no ordinary dummies. They were magically reinforced with Arcane Shielding; It should have been enough to withstand at least a couple of tier-two spells.”

  “So that’s what it was; The blue shimmer was arcane energy manifested into a shield.” His mind split to begin processing the answer to the previous hung query, and the looming implications of the information presented to him.

  Vick nodded. “Correct. A versatile spell that apprentices used to protect themselves from sword and sorcery. The version I used was formed like an armour around the earthen construct. But you…”

  His eyes shifted back to the crater before him, blinking several times. “You just annihilate it with cantrips.”

  Selriph stared at the scorched crater, caught in a limbo of emotion.

  “I’ve never actually tried this before, not like this.” he said, his voice quieter. “I kept things small, subtle. I practised alone. Made sparks and fire dance when no one was watching. They were... comforting.”

  He raised his hands again, with the intent of displaying something to prove his point.

  In a series of intricate and fluid gestures, Selriph conjured small arcs of fire and lightning from his fingertips, his accompanying movements weaving the patterns of flame and electricity in dancing, elegant harmony. This was no outward display of raw might, but a ritual of self-soothing, done in secret, that had kept him sane.

  Vick watched in silence. Taking in the beauty but also the control the boy had over the small arcs of elemental energy.

  “I will give you that… that light show was certainly impressive,” he said after a long pause. “But you are missing the main point here, boy, you won’t be using that light show if the bandit or a Templar came attacking you while you are camping, this is what you did.”

  He gestured back to the crater, the dust having finally settled. “That was pure, overwhelming destruction.”

  Destruction—never would Selriph have expected that descriptor for the force that granted him solace.

  He crossed his arms. “Those were tier-zero spells, Selriph. Cantrips. No apprentice, not even qualified mages should be able to cause that kind of damage with them.” The weight of his statement was profound in his voice as he re-emphasised his point.

  He met Selriph’s gaze, voice low and steady.

  “And you’re doing it with two of the most volatile elements in Evocation.”

  Selriph lowered his hands. He watched as the residual sparks of his display faded into the dim light of the chamber. The silence that followed was heavy.

  “I didn’t mean…” he began, then stopped, unsure what he was trying to say. “I never thought of fire and lightning as dangerous. Not like that. I know they could burn or shock someone, but they only ever brought comfort to me; I never meant them as a weapon.”

  Vick’s expression softened, though the tension in his shoulders remained. “I believe you, Selriph. But that does not change the reality of what you are capable of.”

  He stepped over the fractured remnants of the stone dummies, his boot grinding ash into the floor. “You say you never intended to hurt anyone—and I don’t doubt you. But intent only takes us so far.”

  He crouched near the epicentre of the crater, placing a hand on the scorched stone. “The consequences of your magic, of your raw power, are not dictated by what you wish for. No, it is dictated by what you do, what you have to do with it.”

  As he stared at the crater, his throat tightened. The realisation flooded over him. If those dummies had been actual people, they would have met a similar fate as the dummies.

  Did I really cause this? With simple spells..?

  Selriph’s thoughts turned inward. He could see it now—flashes of lightning tearing through flesh, fire devouring armour, screams echoing from the scorching heat.

  The image made him sick.

  Vick sensed Selriph’s growing realisation, seeking to nudge him. “I’ve known mages who spent decades training to achieve that kind of output, and they could only achieve it after they cast their first 5th or 6th tier spell.”

  Selriph swallowed hard. “I… I’m sorry. I didn’t know. I never really tested it like that. I wasn’t expecting this… result.”

  Vick’s gaze lingered on him for a long moment. Then he stepped forward, his voice lower, quieter.

  He stepped closer, his tone softening. “And that’s why I believe you must go to the Mage’s Guild.”

  Selriph looked up sharply. “You… want me to go? I thought you didn’t trust them. You’ve always seemed hesitant.”

  Vick’s jaw tightened at the accusation, and for a moment, something flickered behind his eyes—an old pain, buried but not forgotten.

  “I was hesitant,” he admitted. “Still am. The guild is not perfect; It’s a fractured institute across the continent, and each sect has its agenda, priorities and pitfalls. No matter what, rivalries and political rot will exist; There are factions, either in the mage’s guild or those associated with them, who would see your talent as a resource or a threat to be erased.”

  He began to pace, his footsteps echoing faintly through the hollow chamber.

  “But,” he continued, “the Guild is still the only place where someone like you can learn what they need to learn. The knowledge. The structure. The means of making the most of your gifts.”

  His voice lowers to a near-whisper. Selriph listens intently, his heart sinking as the reality of his situation becomes clearer. The mage guild was not going to be the utopia in his dreams. He would have to navigate a different landscape, possibly no less dangerous than the one he sought to escape from. If what Vick said was true, eyes would be on him one way or another, even if he made it to a place where magic could be practised unbound.

  “I understand,” he muttered.

  Vick nodded solemnly. “Good. Now… enough distractions. Back to what we did yesterday. The suppress aura spell. You must fully master this; The pendant around your neck and your current casting are decent. But even I can sense the tinge of arcane energy still leaking out of you. Especially during your little… mock display of self-defence."

  His eyes flashed to the crater before returning to the boy. "When you leave these tunnels, we must make sure your magic signature is inert, nothing more than the other residents down here. Otherwise, the hounds will sniff you on your trek to the border.”

  He stepped closer, speaking softly. “They have their ways of finding even the most subtle of magical signatures, as you are well acquainted. That’s why we need to practise this spell extensively. Now, ready yourself.”

  “Of course, I… let’s resume work on that. I do not want to be facing another inquisitor anytime soon.