Herald of death

"Yes," Ethan answers slowly, glancing deliberately at the book now in Thaddeus' hands.

Thaddeus makes space on the desk and lays down several books, opening them to specific pages. He stops and turns back to Ethan. "First, you should show me what you can do."

"You might want to move to one of the arenas if you don't want to destroy this room," Ethan quips. He moves out of the room and into the closest training room, followed by Thaddeus.

"So, I'm guessing evocation spells are your focus," Thaddeus comments.

"If by that you mean destructive spells, then you could say so. But I also know several utility and defense spells," Ethan answers. He moves to the center of the arena and extends his hand. Fire spews out of it in a cone, scorching the back wall. Ethan cuts the flow and gathers the flames into a fireball before sending it at the wall, causing a loud explosion. He shifts to an arc of lightning that carves a melting line in the wall while casting Blight over his left hand. "I learned that I could alter spells using my imagination. And since spellcasting ranked up to E, I can cast two spells simultaneously."

"So, you realized you could rewrite a spell to create a new one," Thaddeus states. He stares at Ethan with his eyes closed to peer into the Ether. "Your ability to continuously absorb Ether is remarkable; I have a hard time doing that. You have great control over your spells, but you were misguided."

"How so?" Ethan asks, curious.

"Modifying your spells on the fly is the opposite of what you should do. It shows great willpower, but what you must do is imagine it as close to its intended meaning as possible. Plus, it consumes more Ether." Thaddeus takes a notebook out of his satchel. He flips the pages to show its contents to Ethan – dozens of spells, most variants of one another. "Most Mages create hundreds of spells to prepare for any situation. It comes with drawbacks, as, even with the Spellcasting ability, you will mix up and forget them."

"That would be great in battle – casting the wrong spell at a critical moment," Ethan quips.

"That's why most Mages, and similar classes, spend their childhood in a school. They hammer the basics in our heads until we can reconstruct a spell on the fly," Thaddeus retorts.

"I was told that the spells learned from spellbooks can evolve into a stronger form. Wouldn't I be wasting this potential by learning and using hundreds of spells?" Ethan asks.

"Yes and no," Thaddeus answers. "The theory is that their form modifies itself to best align with how your mind works. However, it only works when the spell you envision matches the intended spell to perfection. Morphing them on the fly is actually counterproductive. And most Mages never experience the phenomenon. The modern way promotes the use of more complex and powerful spells as you master spellcasting."

"I've seen people using large arrays combining geometry, glyphs, and phonoglyphs to cast their spells. Is that what a more complex spell would look like?" Ethan asks. The phonoglyphic version of Eldorian is what phonetic languages are to logographic ones like Chinese. They use it for names, titles, poems, chants, and to boast amongst aristocrats, as it isn't taught to the masses. Thankfully, Maelor learned it to decipher scriptures.

Thaddeus spreads his fingers to summon a mist of ice crystals in his hand. He molds them into one such array, though orders of magnitude simpler than his summoning spell. "This? No. Rituals are used to cast spells using ambient Ether, but in the absence of a mind to guide them, they require a high degree of precision in their spelling. The phonoglyphs are used to specify the intent, and some rituals even include items in their construction."

"So, what did you mean by more complex spells?" Ethan asks.

"Most spells from spellbooks, even the arguably powerful ones, contain a small number of glyphs. Even something like Elemental Maelstrom only contains fifteen, leaving a lot to the caster's intent. That causes you to consume a lot more Ether for an, arguably, mediocre result. Take your Flame spell, for example." Thaddeus raises his palm, and white fire torrents out of it. "It only costs me half of what yours does for a fire one and a half times hotter. The trick is that my spell describes the combustion process in detail. Which brings me to the other half of magic studies – the study of natural behaviors. You can only create complex spells once you understand how the world behaves on its own."

'I'm going to hope that modern science will be sufficient,' Ethan thinks. He summarizes, "So, to create more powerful spells, I must describe in detail the way I want the Ether to behave in accordance with nature's behaviors?"

"Yes," Thaddeus answers. "That's the reason why the books I have are so extensive. You have to learn about a vast variety of subjects to create a solid knowledge base for your magic. Once you master the basics, we can move on to rituals. The margin of error is nonexistent with those."

"Then I'd like to work on a few spells with you if that's alright," Ethan says. While they were fighting Cedric, Thaddeus mentioned that a more powerful spell could break his defense. Perhaps it is one way of succeeding in this challenge.

"Listen, I'm happy to help you learn the theory. But, and I'm saying this because I know what happens to those who are given spells, I can't make them for you." Thaddeus hands his books to Ethan. "Magic is a very personal thing. If you use a crafted spell without understanding the processes it represents, you will put yourself in danger."

"Ok," Ethan answers as he takes the books. His unexpressive answer shocks Thaddeus, as if he was expecting more resistance.

In the following hour, Ethan confirms what little knowledge he had about crafting his own spells. From there, they expand into flux diagrams – the concept of replacing the links between glyphs by geometry. It allows for a greater variety of combinations while subject to its own restrictions. Finally, Thaddeus recommends that Ethan go through the grand principles of what he calls 'natural behaviors.' He breezes through them thanks to Earth's common knowledge.

The first spell Ethan wants to create is a healing one that wouldn't rely on light Ether. However, he cannot base anything on his existing one, as it is reliant on religious notions such as 'purity,' 'blessing,' 'mercy,' and more. He could make one based on coagulation and cellular repair, but Eldorian vocabulary lacks the proper glyphs. It bugs him, as he saw Thaddeus using one such spell. He asks, "Do you have something on medical knowledge?"

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"Thinking of making a healing spell that doesn't rely on life or light Ether?" Thaddeus asks. He smiles. "That's something I'm trying to do too. Currently, the spell I made is overreliant on my intent and burns through Ether. I figured I need to learn how human bodies heal without the use of magic or potions, but I've yet to meet an expert on the subject. All the healers I questioned know is to keep the wounds clean, the patient fed and hydrated, and to force them to rest."

Ethan rattles Maelor's memories for anything resembling modern medicine but remembers nothing. Strangely, another word comes to him when thinking of blood platelets, not in Eldorian but in Aetherian. Curious, he asks, "What would happen if I used glyphs from another language in a spell?"

Thaddeus stares at him for a moment, stunned. He takes a thin notebook from his haver-satchel and opens it to reveal Demonic glyphs. Thaddeus answers, "Reading the Abyss Watchers' books, I already know that they use Demonic in some of their enchantments and rituals. And I've succeeded in using it in a summoning ritual. However, I've been unable to create a spell with them."

'System-taught spells turn to Aetherian with time, so it should be possible to cast a spell with it. But Thaddeus didn't know that, meaning that it's either hidden from him or extremely rare. The wizard I saw in my vision looked powerful. Maybe Aetherian spells cost tremendous amounts of Ether that contemporary mages do not have. I can't even speak a word of Aetherian without using life force; what would happen if I used it in a spell?" Ethan ponders. He taps his pencil on a blank notebook laid before him, given by Thaddeus, until he realizes that he will not have a better opportunity to try.

"So what language were you thinking of using?" Thaddeus asks.

Ethan looks back up at the mage, thinking of a lie. He recalls a description in Elowen Windale's outworlder species book and answers, "Fae."

"I've heard legends about miraculous recoveries made possible by fairies. Even if we can't use their language, it could be interesting to learn more about their knowledge of medicine," Thaddeus comments. He flips the pages of his notebook and makes a note for his future self. "I'll look into that; thank you."

Ethan scribbles a spell that begins by condensing fuel, heat, and air currents into a tightly packed sphere. Ethan closes his eyes to visualize it in his mind. He restrains himself from imagining what the spell should do, as recommended in the books. When he raises his hand, a small, perfect orb of swirling flame manifests above his palm. With a slight push, the sphere tumbles forward, bouncing off the ground until it consumes itself.

"You described how your fire must be contained, but you also need to integrate how it should move and explode," Thaddeus comments.

Redrawing the spell, Ethan adds a jet of fire at the back of the sphere that consumes its contents. Using a conditional branch – one of the flux diagram patterns – he concludes with a shattering of the containing force on impact. He raises his hand and shoots the projectile out. It whistles in the air, its path oscillating even in the short distance to the wall, and detonates.

"You might want to stabilize its path," Thaddeus needlessly points out. "Shoot that in a strong wind, and it will blow up hundreds of meters away from your target."

'Maybe I can make it spin like a bullet. Wind will alter its trajectory, but in a predictable way.' Ethan adds a thin layer of rotating air hugging the sphere. The next fireball leaves his hand with a low, thrumming hiss, streaking in a straight line before smashing into the wall.

Thaddeus gives an approving hum. "That's more like it. Once you are satisfied, imagine the result you want while casting your spell; it will trigger Spellcasting's memory."

Ethan casts it again and hears the system announcing that he learned the Fireball spell. Encouraged, he sketches a variant. He strips away the collapse, replacing it with a narrow forward breach – a point release that focuses the blast. Instead of exploding, it pierces a hole into the wall, leaving a small, scorched tunnel.

"That's interesting," Thaddeus comments. He peeks at Ethan's drawings before taking the book Ethan studied to read for himself.

'I can do better,' Ethan thinks to himself, comparing his spell to modern weaponry. Returning to his drawing, Ethan modifies the core projectile to add an inverted, hollow cone of force at the front. He describes how it should deform and open on impact, casting the explosion into a jet of fire. To give it enough time to properly deform, he modifies the impact condition to detonate ten centimeters before.

Casting the spell, Ethan senses it requires more Ether than a fireball; he gives it to the spell and throws it at the wall. It blossoms into a needle-thin jet of white-hot fire that eats straight through its target.

Ethan lowers his hand and approaches to study the small, clean hole in the stone. It pierced through a dozen centimeters, leaving molten streaks along its path. He wonders how powerful of a shaped charge he could mimic using a vast quantity of Ether but reserves the experiment for later. Casting a powerful explosion in an enclosed space is a mistake he won't repeat.

"Where did you get this idea?" Thaddeus asks, studying Ethan's spell. "I have a Scorching Ray spell that's similar, but it loses too much power at range. Yours is basically a siege spell! I'll have to study this deformation principle."

"Please do," Ethan says, knowing it won't alter this world's magic. He should be cautious not to advance weaponry knowledge once out of the realm of ascension, or it could come back at him. He closes the notebook in which he scribbled his spells, tired by the studying and soul training. He knows he needs to rest before his fight against Cedric. "I'm stopping for today; I'm spent."

"Oh, okay," Thaddeus says, visibly disappointed. He stashes his books in his haver-satchel, marking a few pages for later study. "You know, with how skilled you are, you should consider a wardship. I can introduce you to some researchers at the Royal Academy of Magic."

"Royal as in the Valmont's academy of magic?" Ethan asks with a raised eyebrow. He recasts his spell to memorize it with Spellcasting.

"You learned the Piercing Fireball spell," the system announces.

"The first Valmont to take the throne created it, but they are neither financing nor controlling it," Thaddeus explains. He moves his fingers along his chin as he thinks. "I guess they could influence some of the counsel's decisions. But unless you are some kind of enemy of the state, it shouldn't be a problem. Are you?"

"I don't think so," Ethan quips. He's annoyed by the wasted opportunity to create an excuse for scouting the academy. "Thank you, but I won't be going to Kingsreach for a long while."

"Don't worry, I'll pass the message onto my family. Even if you come in a few years, they'll introduce you," Thaddeus says. He finishes gathering his books into his haver-satchel.

"Thank you," Ethan answers, not wanting to waste time on a pointless lie. "I'll take some time to rest before I go back outside. Don't wait for me."

"Sure," Thaddeus replies on his way out.

Ethan waits until Thaddeus is gone, listening for the echoes of the noble's boots until he crosses the altar room. Laying his carnet flat, he flips it to a blank page. He hesitates as his hand hovers over the paper. After inscribing a flux pattern, Ethan sketches the Eldorian glyph for fire.

The moment Ethan's pencil finishes the last curve, his Ether is dragged into it. It takes it from him like a black hole attracting everything in its vicinity, ambient Ether included. Heat radiates from the page, and the entire carnet bursts into flames, turning to ash and cinders before Ethan can drop it.

Ethan exhales, detaching himself from the loss of his last hours of work. He closes his eyes. Instead of writing, he imagines, starting with the circuit before envisioning the Aetherian glyphs. The moment the image sharpens, Ether floods into the pattern. By reflex, Ethan feeds his Ether the life force he would use to speak Aetherian, but it grabs more. The spell drinks him whole, his reserves unraveling in moments.

Then, nothing but dark waters and stillness. In an instant he finds himself back in the realm between death and life until the titanic claw smashes him upward. Light burns into his eyes; he can still feel life draining out of him, even if his Ether is now still.

The realm's master stands at his side already, a towel draped across one arm. He looks disappointed. "Please, do not reiterate this experiment. Incorporating Aetherian in spells is one of the last steps of a very long journey on the path of the arcane."