Magical Theory with Beryl & Thea

“Ya sure tha’ ya want ta be here fer this?”

“What else is there for me to do?” Thea yawns out, stretching her arms above her head and sinking slightly into the warm waters of the hot spring. “And I could use the refresher if I am to advance my magic in a dignified way. If your knowledge is sufficient, that is.”

“Ya’re free ta listen in, but Ah’m not tailorin’ this ta ya.” Beryl replies with a shake of her head, before turning her attention towards Krvavy.

The barbarian is sitting across from Beryl, with Khalia cuddled up against her side and Thea just a little more than an arms reach away. After spending all day renovating their home, which was mostly just marking off spots on the ground and flattening the platform with Sculpt Stone, they decided to take a bit of a break in the hot springs, as the rejuvenating water will help Krvavy’s mana regenerate faster.

And while they wait for Krvavy’s mana to slowly crawl back up, it was decided that Beryl will try teaching her some magic. Hopefully her high affinities will make up for the fact that she only has a few points of mana left.

“Alright, my dearest love, Ah’ll begin wit’ explainin’ my peoples understandin’ o’ the connection between magic and people. Fer the most part, as Ah’ll try ta stick ta wha’ll help ya learn magic over wha’ is more akin ta superstitions, beliefs, and legends.” The tomboyish wood elf states with a shrug. “Ah’m not sure how different it’ll be ta wha’ ya know, but it’s a foundation fer the rest o’ my knowledge so it’ll help if ya know it. Tha’ alright wit’ ya?”

“Yup.” Krvavy easily replies, as at the moment she has no idea how magic works at all. She just thinks about using a skill and it activates. Hopefully learning the actual process will be useful to her, but at the very least it should be interesting to hear how it is supposed to work. Or at least how wood elves believe it is supposed to work.

Beryl nods her head and takes a deep breath before she begins. “Wha’ puts people apart from simple beasts is the separation o’ the self into three intertwined parts: the body, the mind, and the soul. The body is the most basic o’ the parts, representin’ simply what ya are: it is yer physical form. Things wit’ neither mind nor soul still have a body, such as rocks or golems. It is the foundation o’ all, it is the dirt and stone beneath our feet: it is the world.”

“If the body is what ya are, then the mind is who ya are: it is yer thoughts and beliefs, yer memories and experiences. Rare are things wit’ a mind but no body, and rarer so are those wit’ a mind but no soul. It is seen as a more intermediary stage, and Ah know fer a fact that Humans leave it out, attributing its aspects between the other two. Tha’ is a gross simplification o’ wha’ people are, but an understandable one from a people who themselves are quite simple.” Thea bristles at that insult, but holds back her tongue. “The mind is closely aligned wit’ the body, havin’ its own physical representation within it. Fer people tha’ is the brain. Fer the world, it is the weather and seasons: it is time.”

“Thus the soul is left, and it is an echo o’ body and mind. It is why ya are. It takes the shape o’ the body, the vessel fer its form, and is imprinted upon it the reflection o’ the mind. The soul relies on the body and the mind: without the body it is ****, gradually fading away and losing its form, and without the mind it will ****, gradually losing who it once was. But it is still, perhaps, wha’ sets us most apart from simple beasts. While even the smallest o’ worms has a soul, it is immeasurably less complex than tha’ o’ even the most base person.”

“It, in the most simple explanation, is our ability ta do magic.” The elf sagely states. “O’ course, tha’ is fer people. Fer the world, it is magic itself. It is the vestige of power within everythin’ from the air ta the stone. It is the ethereal rivers of magic that flow from the heart: it is the leylines.”

“How quaint!” Thea scoffs. “The wood elf thinks that the world is alive!”

Beryl glares at the boisterous brat. “O’ course a race as young and unlearned as yer own would mock tha’. Yer kind live such short lives tha’ ya can’t see the ebb and flow o’ power all around ya. The heart used ta beat so strongly tha’ the whole world was teemin’ wit’ magic. Trees used ta need no goadin’ ta uproot themselves and take a stroll, the rivers used ta speak, rocks used ta raise up and move around, the winds used ta sing. But now it is almost an impossibility fer a natural elemental ta be born. The heart beats ever slower, magic fades away. The world is dyin’.”

Thea blows air out of her nose, hardly keeping herself from laughing. “Classic wood elf talk! And I thought it was exaggerated! Oho! ‘The world is dying and magic will disappear, living in a tree is the only way to fix it!’ Hilarious~! You people have been saying that for how long? Ten, twenty, thousand years? Guess a primitive elf is still a primitive elf and can’t help from espousing superstitions~!”

The tomboyish wood elf clenches her fists beneath the surface of the water. “It is not superstition. It is observable fact.” She forces out through her teeth. “Each generation is weaker than the last, but by such a small amount tha’ it is almost imperceptible on its own. A single skill affinity may be a single fraction lower than yer parents, and yer children’s would be a single fraction lower than yer own. Over time tha’ all adds up.”

“Uh huh, sure.” The noble brat sarcastically stretches out. “Or maybe, just maybe, the world has always been like this and you tree-hugging elves cling to legends that you think are history as excuses for your fading relevance!”

Beryl bristles at that. “And how would ya explain magic then, hmm? Wha’ are the leylines, where does the power come from, how do we use it?”

“I hardly remember those useless lessons I had to endure, but all of that is basic information that even I know.” Thea simply states with a smug smile. “Leylines are little more than collections of magic, flowing around like a current in the sea. After all, magic attracts magic, so the leylines pull the power in to create themselves. Similar to how enchantments work. And that power does not come from the world, it comes from people. Why else would the largest cities be the ones with the most residual mana? Why else would leylines flow from those cities?”

“As for how we use it, well, that too is pretty simple! What you, and the other primitive races, call a soul is little more than the magical residue of a person. Even our faiths say as much. The ‘soul’ is simply the extension of a persons mana channels, which starts in the chest near the heart before flowing out to the limbs and head.”

“Oh, how a little bit o’ knowledge can be such a dangerous thing...” Beryl sighs out. “Ya are unlearned, even by yer peoples’ low standard. Much o’ wha’ ya said has an echo o’ truth ta it, but tha’ is all it is. Leylines do not pull magic in, they radiate it out. Cities are built on leylines, not the other way around. How could ya even believe those two together? It makes no sense.”

The wood elf shakes her head incredulously as she continues on. “Are ya the type tha’ believes bread comes from the baker and thus there is no need for farms o’ wheat? Have ya not heard about places o’ power? The sources o’ many leylines in which few people ever live? Do you think a ruler would tolerate leylines if they leeched mana from his people, transportin’ it right outside the city where an invadin’ army could use it?”

“Magic exists to be used, just as a field exists to be farmed.” Thea scoffs back, crossing her arms. “And we, as people, are built to use it.”

“No wonder world is dying, wit’ parasites like humanity digging away at its marrow!” Beryl hisses out, before continuing on in her lyrical native tongue. Her spew of seemingly gibberish words sounds as beautiful as it did the last time Krvavy heard it, but this time it is tinged with cruel venom, sending shivers down the barbarians spine and filling her heart with dread.

Due to your Not So Cunning Linguist trait you are [2%] of the way towards learning Iaith Coetir.

Thea simply rolls her eyes as the elf finishes spewing out her, presumed, insult. While the brat is clearly trying to act like the unknown words haven’t affected her in the slightest, she seems to refuse to look even towards the angry elf, let alone make eye contact. “Just finish giving the lizard your trite and superstitious explanation of magic already. We do not have all day.”

That seems to snap Beryl out of her anger, as she turns her gaze towards Krvavy. “Oh, Ah’m so sorry, my dearest love!” She cries out in a voice tinged with worried embarrassment. “Ah let yer little brat rile me up! It won’t happen again: if she speak Ah’ll just splash her wit’ water!”

“What?! You would n– HEY!” Thea shouts out as the elf does exactly as she said she would. “STO– AGH! STOP TH– PTHBHH!” The brat spits out some water that got into her shouting mouth, before splashing water back at Beryl. “TAKE THIS, YOU OLD CRONE!”

“Enough!” Krvavy forcibly calls out, supported by a howl from Khalia. “Thea, sit and be quiet! Beryl, get back to talking!”

Both the elf and the human appear rather sheepish as their fight immediately comes to a stop. Thea quickly decides to pout, sinking down further into the water, while Beryl rubs the back of her head ashamedly.

“Ahah... Apologies, my dearest love...” The wood elf awkwardly laughs out, before clearing her throat and trying to act as if nothing had happened. “N-now... Where was Ah...? Oh yes... Ah had mentioned leylines not fer their own importance, but as a point ta compare wit’. See, each person is like a reflection o’ the world: where it has leylines we ‘ave wha’ the humans so aptly call mana channels.”

“They... function rather similarly.” Beryl begins. “Though o’ course mana channels are far more structured: they all ‘ave a core, the channels themselves, and nodes. The core is located within ones chest, though whether it produces mana on its own, borrows mana from the world, or a combination o’ the two is... debatable. Wha’ matters is tha’ the core, yer beatin’ ethereal heart, sends the mana out through the channels to the nodes, which are at various points at the ends o’ yer limbs: such as yer hands, feet, head or mouth. Places where it is easier ta cast magic from, fer the most part.”

“These channels and nodes are not perfect though. They are like rivers and ponds, of which water seeps out from inta the ground and evaporates inta the air. O’ course, tha’ is more pronounced when yer mana is full, as yer form would be so saturated wit’ energy tha’ it’d ‘ave nowhere ta go except out o’ yer body.” The tomboyish wood elf states. “Fer a single normal person, tha’ doesn’t matter much. But when ya got a lot o’ people, especially when they each ‘ave high mana regeneration, then the energy fillin’ the air would be more noticeable. If ya regenerated hundreds o’ points per second, we would feel the power flowin’ off o’ ya in waves.”

“As fer how tha’ all relates ta wha’ Ah want ta say, ta me teachin’ ya magic... Well... Ta do magic ya need ta know how ta move the mana from yer ‘core’ down the ‘channels’ ta yer ‘nodes’. Doin’ tha’ wit’ intent is how ya do magic: shape the power o’ yer soul along the way and it comes out how ya want.” Beryl lightly shrugs her shoulders. “Simple in theory, not so much in practice.”

That does make sense to Krvavy, though it likely didn’t need quite as much exposition... But Krvavy doesn’t need to do any of that to cast her spells... “What about skills?”

“Ahh... Yes... Skills...” The wood elf takes a moment to think. “Ah suppose tha’, from a certain perspective, they are a lot like muscle memory fer magic. Ya go through the process o’ manually moving mana through yer channels enough and ya get a skill, which automatically does it fer ya. O’ course, ya don’t need ta rely on skills ta do magic, as ya can always do it yerself. And there are reasons fer ya ta do tha’, such as modifyin’ yer spells ta change wha’ they do. But tha’ is rather advanced, so no need ta worry about it fer now.”

“And then, as Ah’m sure ya’ve noticed, there are also cases where ya don’t need ta do tha’ ta learn a spell.” Beryl points out. “Such as reachin’ level five in a school o’ magic without havin’ any spells in it, level ten wit’ only one, or level twenty-five wit’ only two. There are also later ‘milestones’ at levels fifty and one-hundred, but most people don’t get the skill up tha’ high, let alone wit’ so few spells. And then Ah suppose tha’ there are also the cases where someone, like yer little brat, learns a spell before the school, gettin’ skills fer them both at the same time.”

Again, that makes sense to Krvavy. It’s good to know that she isn’t an exception to the rules, as that hopefully means she’ll be able to learn magic the same way as everyone else, which with her maxed affinities will quickly lead to her being a bit busted... Well, if she had the mana to use all those different spells.

Thea moves slightly in the water, drawing Krvavy’s attention to her. “You have anything to add to that?” The barbarian asks.

“Not... particularly...” The noble girl hesitantly replies. “What the elf said sounds... mostly correct, according to what I remember. I was never good at moving mana through my channels, but that is the intended way to begin learning magic.”

“Well, how about ya try again?” Beryl suggests. “After all, ya ‘ave magic and a bit o’ our dearest love’s soul in ya, so maybe ya’ll ‘ave some better luck now.”

Thea narrows her eyes at the elf. “Fine...” She reluctantly grumbles out after a few moments.

“Close yer eyes then. Ya too, my dearest love.” The wood elf all but orders. “We might as get started.”