Path of Wizardry

Before Amy left the apartment behind for good, she wrote up a small note for Tod, leaving it in the room he frequented every couple of days. Whilst a part of her worried over the wrong person finding it, ultimately she had too little time to fret about such things. She might not be able to convey her thoughts and thanks in person for how he'd helped her but this would be enough.

To Tod,

I'm leaving. Some unexpected circumstances have forced me to flee the city and I apologise for not being able
to say this to you face-to-face. Regardless, your assistance this past week or so has been irreplaceable and I will be
forever thankful for it.

On other matters, there is something I noticed that I believe is deserving of some address. I believe you have -
sometime between when I first met you and next - undergone a process we Mages call Aspiration. It typically happens
around your age or younger, when someone aspires to be something beyond what the world has given them. This Aspiration
is what all Mages have and is what makes them, in fact, a Mage. You will be an Aspirant, the lowest of them all, but given the
opportunity and the privilege to climb and reach greater heights. For you, this means you have a spark of magical potential
within you, a single mote of mana with which you can pursue a new future for yourself.

It is up to you, but I recommend visiting the association and telling them what I have written here in this letter. You'll most likely
be given two, maybe three, choices about how to proceed from there after some testing. You can, indeed, become a Mage. You'll
be put through proper introductory Schooling and may even get the chance to enrol in a private School if you are talented enough.
On the other hand, you can choose to live your life as you are. You'll learn some basic Cantrips to use, small demonstrations of
magic, and that'll be all. Neither choice is necessarily the correct one. It is, as it always will be, up to you to chart your own path.

Sincerely,
The Witch

When Amy finished writing the note and left, morning had broken and people were beginning to shuffle out of their homes and make their ways to work. It was amidst that hustle and bustle that Felin whispered out to her from her bag, hidden away, the notes that she had stolen. Each word was then carefully transcribed onto a new Record, a temporary working of it that had been elevated to Tier 3, breaking the barrier that she had so carefully straddled before. Absent-mindedly, she realised that she might not even bother being careful about it soon. If she was to be a Journeyman to rid herself of her affinity troubles - at least temporarily - then she'd be able to cast Mageling Spells with the same ease as Cantrips. Tier 3 Spells would become as easy to cast as a Tier 1 or 2, and there'd be no point worrying about it. Hah, Amy smiled to herself. Thinking like this already? Felin's right; the me from a couple months ago wouldn't recognise myself. To think I'm even actually considering advancing to Journeyman. That Amy might've just fainted.

"...the characteristics of the god's chapel seem to indicate a higher standing amongst others in the same pantheon," Felin narrated. "With the god in mind, there is a clear absence in the Iyrtiran pantheon which a supposed god of storms would fill. Another matter of interest is the-"

Felin broke off with a harsh intake of breath, causing Amy to pause and stand still in the middle of the street, "What is it?"

"Ahem, apologies. Another matter of interest is the- the disappearance of all names related to this storm god, whether that be the genuine name or titles and other similar references. Where the names would be written there exists a blank space, the only hint towards something recoverable being the size of the gap hinting towards the length."

"Like the Introduction to Wizardry book," Amy said, eyes widening in shock. A few passer-bys looked at her oddly for talking to herself, but she paid them no mind.

"Exactly. Numerous examples of this name erasure can be listed, but most pertinent of them is the god's divine scripture where vast quantities of the pages are simply white space, whether that be because iconography of the god was also erased, or so much of the page has been blanked out that little remains of it."

Felin continued like that, reading out the file as Amy scribed it onto her temporary Record. Occasionally, he'd stop to add some commentary of his own which she also noted down, albeit in the margins of her imaginary notebook. She had made it halfway across the city by the time the file was completely read through. When it was finished with, she took it out from the bag, spotting the black cat lounging inside, and dropped it in some out of the way mucky alley. They repeated this same routine for all of the files, eventually disposing of them all throughout the city.

"The Observatory Project is an apparent war-time project that the Empire undertook that was left confidential until the Day of Remembrance. Little to no details on the exact matter of the project have been left for analysis, however various buildings found around the Empire's core territories have been linked with it. These structures all seem to be observatories or other buildings used to study the stars. However, they often have little to do with actual space observation and instead hold dangerous research or the like..."

"The School of Hate was discovered in one of the Empire's new colonies and it is fortunate that the name of the School itself was recovered, where other victims of The Forgetting are nowhere near as lucky. It is believed they practised Elemental Hate and its derivatives, as well as a multitude of accompanying Elements such as Blood and a strange notable Element of Wasp (it is the speculation of this writer that this Element plays a similar role to Elemental Spider of the Weaver's Web)..."

It was as the sun was approaching midday, where the streets were far less busy and they were nearing the end of the last file that Amy spotted something on a newspaper stand. Taking every bit of patience and reason within her, she barely avoided the urge to cast Witch's Cloak and run, fleeing from sight and leaving the city despite having things left to do. Felin noticed her reaction immediately, somehow seeing through the confines of the bag.

"Amy, what's wrong?" He spoke to her in a voice only she could hear.

"The newspaper," She said quietly breathless. Sparing a few chips to the paperboy, the day's paper lay in her hands, and on the front page was her worst nightmare. Written in bold letters was the headline.

Break-in at the Clarke Ball

And just a few lines done and on the right margin was a picture. Written underneath it was a small caption, saying how this was an artist's rendition of how the supposed intruder looked like. As, clear as day, the image of the Witch was drawn right there. Of course, there were differences between Amy's and the Witch's appearance, whether than be from the artist's mistakes or her own Monstrous Visage, but it was close enough to warrant concern. Someone who glanced at the picture then looked at her could see the similarities and that was all it would take for her to be caught. How did they even get someone to draw me? Maybe it was drawn from witness' memories? But this quickly? Why? And that reward! My god, that's more than ten times what I was going to get from the museum job. I get that it's a noble, but this much? Everyone's going to be keeping a lookout for this. I've just gone wondering through the city with my normal face on for hours now. What if someone noticed me? What if they're already heading off to report me?

Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

"It's my face," She whispered as quietly as humanly possible, only Felin able to hear it. "They'll know."

"All this means is that the timetable's going to get moved up," He said. "You won't be able to say many goodbye's now, but what were you going to do anyway?"

"The birds. I was going to see the birds."

"...You can't. They'll be keeping watch of that area as a precaution. If you show up with a resemblance to the Witch, they'll catch you first and ask questions later."

"...I know," She mumbled, silent tears welling up in her eyes. "I just... I wanted to see them one last time. I... I don't know."

"You might be able to come back to them later."

"No," Amy shook her head. "It was always my and Janice's intention to release them when they were old enough. It was going to happen relatively soon, so I wanted one last look before it happened. Now... I probably won't see them again."

"I'm sorry, Amy. We need to be fast though. The longer you dawdle here, the higher the chance someone sees you. Hell, that paperboy has probably spent the entire morning looking at that picture of you. What if he gets a good look at you and pieces things together?"

"...You're right. I'll get my things from storage and then... Can I even take the train now?"

"They might be keeping a lookout for you at stations and the like," Felin muttered to himself, shifting around in her bag. "Maybe try taking a carriage?"

"I have to now. Maybe attach myself to a trader caravan or something."

"No use fretting about it. Move."

"Alright."

* * *

Before she knew it she was paying the steep fee for accompaniment to Evyria. Finding a caravan out of the city was hard enough, let alone one that'd take her on this late. It was her luck then that she found one, even if they charged a higher rate for the troubles of reorganising it so shortly before they departed. Soon enough, her things were deposited on a storage wagon and she was scheduled to leave in only a few hours. Meanwhile, she was seated upon a grassy hill just outside the city perimeter, near the slums, where traders and passengers like her were posted up and ready to be given the go-ahead by the carriage-master to leave.

Even as she tried to keep herself distracted from the night before and the events leading up to it, her mind kept on wandering back. With so many people around, it'd be too risky to talk to Felin so openly, so she didn't have anyone to bounce ideas off of. As he kept huddled up and sleeping in her purse, Amy ruminated. Just how much of that was me? I know what Felin said about it, but I can't just stop doubting myself. Was I really in control, doing all of those things, or was I just a puppet for random urges and instincts that felt right to follow. Am I even still alive? Can I be considered the same person as before, or have my affinities changed me so much that I'm essentially dead, a completely different person? It's all happened so fast that I haven't had the time to process it all. When... When was the last time I even relaxed properly? It... It had to be back in Triesen, right? I haven't spent a lick of my free time casually. I've just been focused entirely on magic and nothing else. Maybe that's the biggest indicator that I've been influence. That I haven't slacked off or just rested for a couple days. I... I haven't seen my family in so long, and I chose to spend more time here pursuing my own personal vendetta than go back to them. What was I even thinking?

"It'll be alright, Amy," A voice spoke from her bag.

"...Did I say that out loud?" She said back to him, as covertly as she could manage.

"No, but your face is enough for me. You haven't looked alright for quite some time."

"...I didn't tell you about one more thing, you know?"

"I guessed. There was something you mentioned, about not being able to tell me, not yet."

"There... There was this magic I did," Amy began to explain, swivelling around to face away from the traders. "In the museum, I needed to break a Lock and Alarm of sorts on the robe's display case. I didn't have any magic ready for it so I was planning on a working, perhaps of Unknowable to keep me hidden and 'fool' the mana in the enchantments."

"Seems reasonable so far."

"Except... Something called to me there, in that moment. Logic determined that Unknowable would be the best there, as Wizards had taught; use Unknowable to fool the mana, and Fae, the world. It wasn't that Element that called to me there, no, it was unmistakably Fae."

"Another working you didn't tell me about?"

"No," Amy shook her head. "This wasn't a working. It was... magic. I- I can't even describe it, Felin. I simply willed what I wanted into existence, and it happened. The Fae simply morphed into what I wanted, and trespassed right through the Locks and Alarms, breaking and bypassing them with ease. I even used it on the diary; it was encrypted and I used the same thing there-"

"You... willed it into existence?"

"Yes I-"

"You're sure about that wording? Completely sure?" Felin asked, going deathly still in her purse.

"I'm... I'm pretty sure. It felt like actual magic, not the mechanical stuff of Spellcraft and Magecraft. The mana simply did what I wanted to do. It was... amazing."

"Don't do it again," Felin said.

"What?"

"It's a part of forging your path, but I can't believe... I mean, it makes sense. You began forging it, so why shouldn't you have access to it, just... I can't believe this is happening to you."

"What is it, Felin?" She pressed, sweating.

"I... I can't, no, I won't say. Simply promise me, Amy, promise me that you'll not use that S- that thing again."

"...Alright, Felin, I promise."

"...Okay," He sighed. "I'll eventually tell you what it is, and that you can use it, but... Not now, not at Apprentice and maybe not even at the start of Journeyman."

"If you say so," She frowned, looking down at her lap. I didn't even say a thing about the shape it took. Should I? "There was-"

It began as a tingle, the hair raising on the back of her neck. Before she even knew it, Felin was leaping out of her bag, yelling something at her, not even bothering to stay hidden. Whatever he said was lost to the noise her ears made as they endlessly rang. Something felt deeply wrong and it unsettled her to no end.

Unconsciously, she found herself running, fleeing towards the slums behind her, to seek somewhere dark, somewhere no one would find her. Why?

Felin kept on trying to say something to her, now firmly seated upon her shoulder. It wasn't that she was ignoring him, no. She was hearing what he was saying, but she wasn't comprehending it, not truly. Something else instead weighed upon her mind, something that held the same meaning of what he was trying to warn her of.

Sneaking down small roads through dilapidated buildings, Amy searched for something to hide behind, her sense of alarm growing even stronger. The first signs of something beyond her were the animals, the rats and mice scuttling away and running as far away from her as they could.

When that started to happen, it wasn't even a question if she should stay stealthy and a Witch's Cloak formed upon her shoulders. Immediately, a prickly, sticky sensation began to slip off of her, something she hadn't even realised was there before. Not bothering to question it, Amy ran even faster, moving as much as she could towards somewhere safe. In the end, she didn't find anything. It was all the same hovels, run down and dirty, some even filled with people.

So, resolving herself, Amy tried her best to find somewhere uninhabited before burrowing down, finding refuge under the cover of dirt and grime in an old abandoned tent.

Mere instants later, it finally arrived.

And all was engulfed in blue flame.