Marc was sitting at the table, the apple half-eaten and the grimoire open. He cautiously leafed through it: the book was heavy and seemed new. It was very well structured, and all the information was clear: magic is utilized through the Maná of the person invoking it. Apparently, this Maná resided in all living beings and everything surrounding them, although not everyone possessed Magical Power to transform that Maná into magic.
One in a thousand, as the God Amir said, right? I guess I'm lucky.
"Magical Power grants you the ability to transform your level of Maná into magic, as if it were the engine. But verbal spells, like a key, are needed to activate and release that power. Without a minimum of Magical Power, the spell is just an empty word," read the grimoire.
Magic was classified as basic, intermediate, and advanced. Intermediate and advanced required not only greater magical power but also years of practice to invoke them correctly.
Years?
There existed elemental magic, which was the most common and fundamental. This controlled the four basic elements: Fire (aggressive, used to inflict damage and provide warmth); Water (used for minor healing, manipulation of liquids, and creation of ice); Earth (used mostly for defense, manipulation of rocks, and resistance); and Air (used to gain speed, manipulate the weather, and sometimes for light transport). Each had basic, intermediate, and advanced level spells, depending on the power, range, and difficulty of Maná manipulation.
Up to this moment, everything is becoming completely clear to me. This grimoire explains very well and in detail everything there is to know about magic.
The grimoire also mentioned that most people with Magical Power are only naturally inclined to one type of elemental magic, but in exceptional cases, there could be people who were inclined to two or three types. This had only happened a few times in the history of that world.
I hope I'm inclined to more than just one type of elemental magic... all four, if possible.
In addition to elemental magic, another type of magic exists: healing magic. This is not an element, but an advanced application of Maná that only works with living beings. It is the most difficult to master and the least common in terms of affinity: only one in five people with Magical Power had an affinity for healing magic.
If only one person in a thousand has Magical Power, and only one in five people with Magical Power is inclined to healing magic, it must be truly rare to meet someone with an affinity for this magic. They must be coveted people.
Within the explanation of using spells, Magic Circles were also mentioned: drawings or diagrams that help focus and channel Maná. It was another way to activate Magical Power, often used in the most complicated spells to avoid having to recite the entire incantation.
I guess that helps a lot. There are spells that look like a fucking postgraduate thesis! Who has the time to memorize something like that?
He did.
The grimoire was full of drawings and examples of spells; it was very illustrative. It was evident that it was written by professionals of magic.
This book is going to help me understand everything very well, but that's enough theory for today; it's time for practice.
Marc searched for the simplest elemental spell: an incantation to light a small flame.
I shouldn't practice magic inside the cabin, but if it's just a small flame, there won't be a problem.
Following the beginner instructions described in the grimoire, he closed his eyes. He repeated the spell softly, concentrating on the Maná that must be within him. He opened his hand, and focused...
"Oh, primal spirit of fire, hear my will. Ignis, light up!"
A faint indigo blue glow—the color of his new eyes—enveloped his palm. A small spark crackled in the air for a second before extinguishing.
Marc started, falling off the bench onto the floor. The spark, and the glow in his eyes, took him completely by surprise.
Ouch! Shit, I hit my head... although, honestly, it didn't hurt. It was more the fright than the blow. I think I really am stronger; in my old body, I might have even split my head open. With every moment that passes, I miss my old body and my life in general less and less.
Marc got up and sat down again.
What truly scared me was the glow in my eyes. I didn't remember the words Amir told me about my eyes when I used magic. Did he perhaps tell me as a warning because he knew exactly this was going to happen? I guess if so, he must have that mocking smile on his face right now that he couldn't stop having when we talked.
And Marc was right: the God Amir was mocking him from above at that moment.
I have to try again; this time, I'm prepared.
He took a few moments before invoking the spell. He began to inhale and exhale deeply; his concentration and will were greater. Staring intently at his palm, he pronounced the same words:
"Oh, primal spirit of fire, hear my will. Ignis, light up!"
His eyes glowed with greater intensity, and a flame formed in the palm of his hand. He was startled again for a second, but immediately calmed down. His heart raced, and an excitement coursed through his entire body.
"Oh yeah, you sons of bitches! This is how you do magic! Ha! Your damn Demon King has arrived! You better be prepared for me to kick all your asses!" Marc yelled with excitement, laughing at the same time.
Marc couldn't stop staring at the flame; he looked like a child seeing his favorite candy just bought at the store. In his excitement, he stood up from the bench and began walking around the cabin, until he realized something...
Wait, how do I turn this off now? The book didn't mention it. Maybe by closing my fist.
As soon as he did, the fire quickly transferred from his palm to his fist.
I guess that wasn't it. What if I shake it out like I'm extinguishing a match?
He did, but nothing happened; the flame remained lit. He brought his fist closer to his mouth and began to blow as if he wanted to extinguish birthday candles, harder and harder, but the flame would not go out.
Maybe I should imagine turning it off.
Marc closed his eyes and, concentrating, imagined the flame extinguishing. When he opened his eyes, the flame had disappeared along with the glow in his eyes.
It worked, but there should be an easier way to turn it off without having to concentrate so hard. Maybe with time and practice, it will become easier for me.
He scanned the countless rows of books that crammed the bookshelf.
I have too much to learn. This is going to be a very long road.
A book caught his attention. It was in the grimoire section, but, unlike the others, this one seemed ancient and neglected. It was a hardback volume, unadorned, whose leather binding was cracked and discolored. Marc had not noticed its existence until that moment.
Interesting.
Marc slid his fingers between the volumes and, with a mix of caution and intrigue, extracted the ancient grimoire. Upon opening it, the book creaked in protest. It was written entirely by hand, and the pages, thin and yellowed, were visibly damaged, with torn edges.
I can barely make out what it says. I don't know if I can read it well in this state. Read... wait, how is it that I can read the language of this world? Is it the same as mine, or is it a translation power the God Amir gave me?
Without giving further importance to the language issue, he took the book to the table. He pushed aside the other grimoire (the one he had brought earlier) with a swift movement, as if he had already lost all interest. The volume was not a manual; instead, it began with a personal narrative.
"My name is Zylos, and in this book, you will find accounts of my life experience using this power that God has granted me... or was it a malevolent being? It has been both a blessing and a curse. But it all started as a curse. In the year 260 of our Lord Amir. In that year, my parents died from a disease, just as it was customary for almost all parents in the village. In those days, there were many diseases that had no cure or whose treatment was unknown. If someone was fortunate enough to reach forty years of age, they were considered a sage and treated with great respect…"
Ten years more and I would have been a sage back then.
"...My father passed away on the third day of the month of Brumefire, the first month of the year and also the coldest. He died only one day after falling ill; he barely suffered. My mother soon followed suit and passed away five days later, on the eighth day of the same month. She fell ill the same day as my father, but she promised my brother and me that she would fight for her life so as not to leave us alone. I wish she hadn't. She only suffered longer. I still remember her screams of pain during her last night of life, and to this day, I cannot erase them from my memory. Two days later, my brother and I were practically vagabonds. We had no money and barely had a few scraps of food. Our village was so poor that no one could afford to feed two more mouths, much less in winter when food is scarcest. A week later, due to lack of food and the cold, my brother took his last breath. He was my older brother; he hadn't eaten so he could give me the little food that was left. We only had one blanket, so he gave it to me without even hesitating. He always protected me and maintained a strong demeanor until the end. He didn't want me to worry about him..."
Damn, this is so depressing. I don't know if I want to keep reading.
"...Three days after my brother's death, with the last strength I had left and my father's old bow, I went out to hunt. Luckily, I managed to hit a rabbit with my arrow that was coming out of its burrow. When I peered inside, there were several young. It must have been the father or mother who went out to look for food. It broke my heart, but there was nothing I could do. Upon reaching my shack, I skinned the rabbit and prepared it for cooking. I tried to light the last piece of wood I had placed in the hearth we had on the floor, but I couldn't, no matter how hard I tried. Despair and rage overcame me, and all the hatred I had accumulated in the last few weeks exploded. I cursed God and life. I cursed my parents and my brother for having abandoned me. A scream tore out from inside me that almost ripped my throat... and at that moment, something unthinkable happened. Fire shot out from my palms..."
Is he talking about magic like the one I just used?
"...I panicked. I thought perhaps it was divine punishment for having insulted God and my family, that I would die engulfed in flames as a way to pay for my sin. My first instinct was to scream and run out of my shack, but the flames followed me. I put my hands in the snow, but that didn't work either. I returned to the shack, and the flames accidentally touched the walls. It only took a matter of seconds for the entire shack to be engulfed in flames. Several people from the village came to my aid or simply to see what was happening. The village was a day away from the nearest river, so if something caught fire, nothing could be done. You just watched it burn. I couldn't stop screaming, and fire kept coming out of my hands. The whole village was terrified. And as always happens when people in a village see something unknown, they called me a heretic, a follower of evil who attracted the flames, and among several people holding sticks and throwing rocks, they chased me away from the village, with the warning never to return…"
I thought people in this world were used to magic. Maybe it's less common than the God mentioned.
"...I was terrified and couldn't stop crying, but the damn flames wouldn't stop shooting from my hands. After a couple of hours, when I couldn't cry anymore due to exhaustion, I calmed down, and at that moment, the flames ceased. That was my first time using my power, the same power that after a few hundred years people have learned to accept and use, baptizing it as magic."
Wait, does this mean this person was the first or among the first to use magic in this world?
Marc continued reading that book for several hours until the sunlight stopped entering the window.
It's late, and my stomach is rumbling with hunger. But I learned several interesting things from Zylos's accounts.
One of the things Marc learned is that Zylos, apparently, could control not only all the natural and healing elements, as mentioned in the first grimoire he read, but also other aspects such as gravity, teleportation, magical barriers, Maná detection, enchanting objects, boosting allies' physical abilities, and the one they had used on him (stopping aging), among a few others. These were the various magics Zylos had learned after experimenting with magic for hundreds of years.
I wonder if all those types of magic will be in the other grimoires on the shelf. But what caught my attention the most is that Zylos used magic with a single word related to what he wanted to do or sometimes without mentioning any word. That contrasts with what the first grimoire mentioned about having to recite spells as a key to using magic.
Marc prepared his first meal in that world. He poured wine from one of the barrels to accompany dinner. When he finished, he decided to go to sleep. He told himself that training would begin at dawn. As he sank into his incredibly comfortable new mattress, he noticed that the fire in the fireplace continued to burn softly, keeping the air warm. He took one last look at the ancient grimoire on the table.
One hundred years of training. It's a long road, but, come what may, I am sure that this will be the best life I have ever had. I will make sure of it, whatever the cost.
With that determination, he closed his eyes. The man who had no purpose on Earth fell asleep as the future Demon King, and thus ended his first day in the new world of fantasy.