Trinity of Magic

Zeke took a step back, creating distance between himself and his teacher. Cenred merely smiled a yellow-toothed smile as he watched Zeke flee his proximity.

“We’ll see about that,” Zeke said after collecting himself. “I have more than one affinity and I’ll be able to find a family for one of them.”

Cenred rolled his eyes. “Yes, I am sure the emperor is licking his lips at the thought of adopting a boy with a muddled core.”

“What about Space?” Zeke asked, less confident than before.

“Space Magic is not in the hands of the families, but controlled by the Himmelfahrt Insitute. It is too vital to the survival of the empire to leave to a single family.”

Zeke’s eyes opened wide. Why had the headmaster not told him about this when presenting him with his choices? If he had known about this earlier he would not have chosen the Elementium. Also, if Cenred’s words could be believed, then he really was fucked.

He sighed. “Let’s just get started with class.”

Cenred sported a teasing grin. “Oi, is that any way to talk to your teacher, boyo?” His smile seemed to grow wider in proportion to Zeke’s dejection. So, Zeke decided not to engage with him any longer.

Instead, he merely glared at the drunkard.

“Killjoy! Ahh, well, I guess it’s about time anyway,” the teacher said, as he slowly crept his way over to the podium. From there, he bent down to retrieve something. After a while of rummaging around, he reemerged with a beaten-up tome clutched in his grip.

He threw the book down in front of Zeke. “Here you go.”

Curious, Zeke opened the first page and began reading.

Welcome to the world of Blood Magic.

This introductory tome will acquaint you with the basics of Blood Magic, from harnessing your life force to enhancing your abilities. Through practice and dedication, you’ll become a skilled Mage.

This book contains the Spellforms for [Blood Manipulation], [Blood Spike], and [Boost]. This knowledge may not be shared.

Zeke looked up at his teacher. “Spellforms?”

Cenred groaned. “Were you raised under a rock? Spellforms are the most essential part of spellcasting.”

“And how am I supposed to know? I’ve never cast a spell!” Zeke protested.

“Alright, alright, calm down, boyo, I’ll explain,” Cenred relented. ”To cast a spell, you need three things. Mana, Intent, and a Spellform. Mana should be self-explanatory, and if you are trying to cast Blood Magic, it obviously needs to be Blood-attuned Mana.”

Zeke nodded.

“Intent is your will. While attuning the Mana, you have to imprint your will onto it. This is where you tell the Mana what you want it to do. This step is called Imbuement.

“And the last step is the Spellform. This is where you use the attuned and imbued mana from your core to create a Spellform. Depending on what kind of spell you want to cast, you’ll need to use the proper form. It’s kinda like writing instructions for your Mana.”

Zeke thought about this for a moment. “Why would I need to put my will into the Mana if the Spellform defines what the spell will look like? Aren’t those two steps the same?”

Cenred shook his head. Wordlessly, he flipped through the book in front of Zeke. He stopped when he had roughly reached the middle. On one of the pages, an image was depicted. It was a strange sight. The depiction looked like a combination of drawing and writing. It was unlike any language he had ever seen.

“This is the Spellform for [Blood Spike],” Cenred said, pointing at the picture. “You’ll have to create this shape with your Mana in order to cast the spell. Understood?”

Zeke nodded.

“But that is all this is,” Cenred said. “Do you see the problem?”

If this picture determined the function of a spell, then what else was missing? After a moment, he realized something. “Where will the spell be cast?”

Cenred nodded. “A Spellform provides the blueprint, but all variables are being handled with Intent. Do you want the spike to emerge from your fist? Your knee? Do you want it to be the length of a finger? Or, maybe the length of your entire body?”

Zeke glanced at the drawing again, but before he could even get a good look, Cenred snapped the book shut. “Don’t even think about it, boyo. If you kill yourself, I’ll get penalized. Start with the manipulation spell.”

While Zeke started reading, Cenred made his way over to the podium, where he slumped down and promptly started to drink from a flask he had kept somewhere inside his robe. However, Zeke paid him no mind as he went through all the instructions on how to cast [Blood Manipulation].

The book described the spell as falling under the category of ‘ongoing spells’, instead of the more common ‘burst spells’.

Ongoing spells didn’t need a huge Mana investment, but as opposed to burst spells, they needed to be supplied with Mana for their entire duration. This meant that you could keep the effect going for as long as you were able to supply it with Mana.

Zeke next studied the Spellform. The same as with [Blood Spike], it was depicted inside a circle. However, everything else was completely different. He had expected to find some overlap between the two, but this didn’t seem to be the case.

Eager to get started, Zeke focused on his Core. He had never tried to control the Mana in such a way, but according to the book, it was possible. Not only that, but it was apparently how all spells were cast.

This narrative has been purloined without the author’s approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.

It was then that he noticed what the circle in all the depictions of Spellforms was. He felt like a fool for not realizing right away — it was his Core. Of course, the spell would be contained in a circle, as he was supposed to create the shape inside his Core. After one last glance at the book, Zeke closed his eyes.

Even without being able to see inside his own body, he was able to feel the Mana inside his Core. It was hard to describe how he was able to do this, as this knowledge didn’t come from any of his five senses. No wonder this ability was called [Mana Sense] as it was completely separate from any of his other, mundane senses.

Zeke was confident. He had done little else but work on his control for the past week. The basic tasks of gathering ambient Mana and attuning it to Blood were completed almost effortlessly. It was the next step that caused him difficulties.

Keeping Mana contained felt akin to holding one’s breath. It wasn’t hard per se, but couldn’t be done indefinitely either. The Core would tire after a while and like a fatiguing muscle, it became harder and harder to keep it flexed. So, there was a definite limit to the time he could spend creating the Spellform before he would have to release the Mana and start over.

Even after several attempts, he was completely unable to shape it the way it he was supposed to before he had to release it. More than once, he relaxed his focus for a split second, only to lose all his progress.

This was hard.

For one, he only now realized how unruly Mana actually was. It behaved like an ethereal vapor, not wanting to stay in place at all. It seemed to use every chance to escape his control. To Zeke, it felt like he was trying to build a house out of smoke. His second problem was his lack of control. He was pretty certain that he wouldn’t be able to recreate the Spellform, not even if the Mana was completely pliable.

Even after reducing the volume he worked with, he still wasn’t able to shape it properly. He would need a lot of practice before he could even think of casting anything. And how much harder would it be to create it in a sensible amount of time after that? He had his work cut out for him. Still, Zeke wasn’t discouraged by this. Hard work had never daunted him. If there was a feasible way to achieve his goals, he had always been willing to put in the work.

But despite his best efforts, he had barely made any progress by the time the bell announced the end of class. Opening his eyes, he saw that Cenred had fallen asleep at the front of the classroom. He was just in time to see the man startled awake by the sound of the bell.

After a moment of looking around in confusion, his teacher seemed to remember where he was. His eyes settled on Zeke. “So, how was your first lesson? Mastered any spells yet, boyo?”

“Not yet.”

“Well, then you better keep at it. You’re gonna fail if you don’t manage to learn at least one of them by the time the exams come around.”

“I’ll do my best,” Zeke said.

“Right, right,” the man mumbled, sounding like he didn’t care one way or the other as he fumbled for his bottle. “By the way, don’t expect me to be here for all your classes.”

Zeke’s brows furrowed. “Isn’t that… your job?”

Cenred scoffed. “What? You think I’ve got nothing better to do than watch you practice?”

Zeke instinctively wanted to agree. What important business could this washed-up drunkard have? But he wouldn’t gain anything by offending his teacher unnecessarily. Instead, he said, “Then what am I supposed to do if I have a question?”

The man found his flask and indulged deeply in its content. At Zeke’s question, he merely shrugged. “Ask your other teachers. You have three affinities, after all. I bet your Mind and Space teachers will be happy to pamper you.”

Zeke’s lips curved down. How unreliable could this teacher be? Still, he merely nodded. “I’ll save my questions for when you are around, then.”

“Suit yourself,” Cenred said, waving over his shoulder as he made his way toward the exit. “Ohh, one more thing.” He pointed at the book with the Spellforms. “I am going to leave this here. Don’t take it out of this room, and don’t damage it. Or you’ll be in deep shit.” Without even waiting for Zeke’s reply, he sauntered off — leaving the boy alone in the empty classroom.

So much for his first Magic lesson.

But really, Zeke wasn’t too unhappy. As the only student, he would have the room to himself. And if Cenred was comfortable leaving this book lying around, then that most likely meant that this room wasn’t used by anybody else. If that was the case, he would be able to use this place however he wanted.

With a spring in his step, Zeke left the room and made his way onto the busy courtyard. He would have to hurry home if he wanted to find work for the evening. However, before he even made it a few steps toward the gate, he saw something out of the corner of his eyes that made him stop dead and stare.

There she was. Amidst a group of laughing students sat the girl he had missed so dearly. A wide smile spread across his face.

“Lilly!” he called. She turned, looking for the source of the voice. Zeke walked towards her, arms waving wildly. “Lilly! Where have you been?”

He was so focused that he didn’t even see the person coming that rammed into his chest. All he knew was that suddenly, the world was upside down and he found himself lying on the cobbled street.

However, thanks to his improved body, he was more surprised than hurt. The boy who’d collided with him was rubbing his shoulder, a grimace on his face.

“What the hell are you made of?”

Zeke got up in a hurry. “Sorry about that,” he said as he made to move past the other student. However, before he could even take a step, a hand clamped down on his shoulder — hard.

“Where do you think you are going, you shit?” the boy said, a threatening tinge to his voice. “You think you can just attack me like that and then walk off?”

For the first time, Zeke took in his assailant. The boy had brown hair and a sturdy physique. Furthermore, he wasn’t alone: two other students had walked up beside him.

“What is that supposed to mean?” Zeke asked. “It was clearly you who ran into me.”

“Yeah?”

“Yes.”

“Is that what happened?” the boy asked his two friends, acting confused.

“No way,” one of his friends said right away. “That peasant boy ran at you with full speed. He clearly had it out for you. Right, Seb?”

“Ohh, most definitely,” the other one agreed. “I saw it in his eyes. They were wild with anger.”

Zeke balled his fists. Who were those punks trying to fool? He looked around at the bystanders, who must have seen—

With a start, Zeke noticed the mocking grins on the faces of the surrounding students. They wouldn’t support him. But surely, Lilly would back him up. He glanced to where she had been, but the spot was empty, and she was nowhere to be seen.

How could that be?

Zeke refocused on the boys standing in front of him. “What do you guys want?”

“Want?” the first boy said haughtily. “What could we want from somebody like you? I merely demand an apology for your reckless behavior. That’s all.”

Zeke took a deep breath, calming his racing heart. With gnashed teeth, he forced out his next words. “I’m sorry.”

The boy shook his head. “No, not like that. You are clearly lacking sincerity. Shouldn’t you be on your knees for this?”

On his knees? What was he? A beggar asking for change?

Before Zeke had time to really think about it, his fist connected with the boy’s face. But to his surprise, the boy didn’t go down. Instead, he returned the punch with a kick of his own, striking Zeke in the chest.

The next moment the two others joined in, and Zeke knew that he was completely outmatched. They covered for each other while striking precisely at his joints. These boys acted like trained fighters, so completely different from Martin and his gang. Despite his stronger body, Zeke would have probably lost in a fair fight as well. However, three-on-one was not even a competition.

It was over in mere moments.

A bloody and bruised Zeke lay on the ground, gasping, as the three loomed over him. They seemed barely out of breath. Zeke heard a spitting sound, and the next moment, he felt a giant glob of phlegm hit his cheek. His eyes were so swollen that he couldn’t make out which one of the three it had come from.

“Let that be a lesson, you scum,” a voice said as the three shadows turned their backs on him and departed.

Even using his Blood Mana, it took Zeke a long while to mend his broken body to a state where he could stand again. Accompanied by stares and snickering, he limped his way to the exit.

All his earlier joy had turned to ash.