Perhaps the world should be Eradicated!
Vhalla had never been more certain that she should rid herself of whatever magic she may possess. Everything she had always been told was right, and it only took half a book on the history of the Empire’s most mysterious war to understand this. Magic changes things; magic made more men die at war, magic could turn a human into an abomination.
Vhalla shoved the books back on the shelf in self-righteous anger.
Anger fought a battle with amazement when this person was stubborn enough to pen out another reply.
Yarl,
You were reading about the War of the Crystal Caverns? Was your interest in history sparked by your introduction to magic or your misplaced vendetta against it? In either case, allow me to elaborate on your reading. Perhaps, in this, you may be right. There are good men among the wicked in this world, donning the fleece of the innocent. He who set free the power that warps the hearts, minds, and bodies of mortals was certainly wicked. The actions of this man should condemn only him, not all who wield magic. It was also because of sorcery that the war could be ended and the power resealed in the Crystal Caverns. Soldiers – your father – came home because the magical warriors of the Black Legion.
Consider that when you wish to be Eradicated. Are you going to be the sorcerer who could have saved lives but chose instead to be no one? When a sword is thrust into someone’s gut, do you blame the sword or the knight who wields it?
When will you stop being afraid, read, and learn more about who you are?
Vhalla stared at the note. She did not know what was more agitating. This person’s tone or the fact that they were right. Vhalla confirmed their claims by actually finishing the book she started the day prior. The Black Legion, the war sorcerers of the Empire, had been integral to sealing the Caverns and their dangerous magic once more.
Were those sorcerers any different from any other soldiers? No, her quill paused for a moment, hovering over her blank page. Were sorcerers very different from the people she called normal?
Phantom,
I’ve moved away from the introduction; I want to learn more about what sorcerers do, what magic is. I found a book on magical Affinities. As I understand it, the early sorcerers in the West believed that magic came from the Mother Sun in the form of her elements, so they harnessed and trained those elements. This is why Crones were the only ones with fire Affinities, called Firebearers.
Then I began to research Groundbreakers next. It seems with their abilities to mend wounds, charge magical salves, and create potions would be most useful.
Vhalla Yarl
As much as Vhalla did not want to, she found the words of her challenger’s notes embedding themselves into her head. At every opportunity over the next weeks, Vhalla withdrew to sneak down the long rows of books into the aisle of mysteries. As the pile of notes in her closet grew, so did her awe and appreciation for her phantom’s seemingly endless knowledge.
Yarl,
What is magic? I am afraid you will not find that answer in these books. It is a question more suited for theologians and philosophers.
Am I to commend you for pointing out the obvious? Tell me why Groundbreakers can do these things and maybe I shall grace you with further correspondence.
The Phantom
Vhalla vigorously researched an answer the rest of that afternoon and the day after. How dare this person push her so far, further than even the master had ever pushed her, to pursue new knowledge? Something about their words seeped deep into her. Pride swelled her chest when she found something that may be considered acceptable by her phantom. It was undeniable: she wanted to impress her Phantom.
Phantom,
While not exclusive to their Affinity or proximity to Shaldan, Groundbreakers will often times possess magical sight. This gives them the ability to locate afflictions in the body and to diagnose illness. But, as the writing illustrates, this is not exclusive to Groundbreakers. I could not find anything beyond that.
Vhalla Yarl
Without realizing it, Vhalla’s days began to fall into a repetitive cycle of work, a note from the Phantom, and sleep. She found a rhythm in managing her work to maximize the amount of time in her window seat. The more she read, the more she realized that she had never contemplated the ways of the magical world. She was disappointed in herself as a scholar, and that only served to fuel her continued research. Vhalla had always considered herself intelligent, at least above average. But could she even make that claim if she ignored a whole field of study with a closed mind?
Yarl,
I see your tone has changed. Very well, now that you are showing some appropriate humility, I shall indulge you. A Groundbreaker possesses an Affinity for the earth, but if they are lucky they also possess an Affinity of the self that gives them the ability to inspect a person better than any cleric. Affinities of the self are lesser known, and the literature is sparser as a result. However, what we do know is that every natural Affinity bears a unique Affinity of the self, even if not all sorcerers of an elemental Affinity possess the skills.
The Phantom
Despite herself, Vhalla began to contemplate Affinities. If she was indeed a sorcerer, what Affinity she would have? At night, when writing by candlelight, Vhalla stared into the flame, wondering if she could make it move and dance as the Firebearers in her books could.
Phantom,
I wonder, do all people have an Affinity? Is every man and woman an untapped magical being? Is everyone simply waiting to Manifest?
I have been reading about the history of magic and it seems sorcery is connected with some of our oldest traditions. I never realized that the mirror that passes from one Head Crone to another was intended to be a vessel for keeping the Mother’s own magic within.
The writing on the Crone’s mirror led me to find a work by a man named Karmingham. He discussed magical transference via conductors and storage via vessels. Is anything a sorcerer touches a magical vessel?
Sincerely, Vhalla Yarl
Some days she would reread the notes. She’d stare at that slanted, tight script and wonder whose hand wrote it. No one ever came forward, from Tower or library staff. The longer the game went on, the more she began to think he really was a phantom haunting the library. She would joke with herself that he was the same man who had been lurking in her dreams for weeks.
Vhalla Yarl,