NOVEL WEB Chapter 7: The Concept of Magic
Julia navigated the streets of Sharwood with a practiced ease, her steps purposeful and efficient, weaving through the townsfolk and the occasional cart with a familiarity that spoke of countless previous visits. It was clear she knew this place well, her internal map guiding her directly towards their destination without hesitation. William, though still favouring his not so injured leg, managed to keep pace, his curiosity about this new world and its inhabitants momentarily outweighing his discomfort.
They arrived at a building that, while not imposing, was noticeably larger than most of the surrounding structures. A simple wooden sign above the door, depicting a stylized mortar and pestle, identified it as the town's clinic. The building was a combination of sturdy stone at its foundation and well-maintained timber above, reflecting Sharwood's blend of practicality and established presence.
Inside, the clinic was a scene of organized chaos. The space was essentially one large room, cleverly partitioned with hanging cloths and movable wooden screens to create distinct areas. One section, closest to the entrance, was clearly designated for emergencies, evidenced by the presence of a bloodstained bed, a collection of bandages and splints, and a palpable sense of urgency. The other, larger section was dedicated to recovery, filled with several beds where a mix of soldiers and townsfolk rested, their faces etched with varying degrees of pain and weariness. The air was thick with the scent of herbs and the faint, underlying odour of sickness and injury.
A tall, remarkably thin man, clad in a simple brown robe that seemed to swallow his frame, bustled about the room. This was Mendal, the town's doctor, his movements a blur of focused activity as he flitted from patient to patient, his long, slender fingers deftly probing wounds, administering medicines, and offering words of comfort or instruction. He had a kind face, etched with the lines of long hours and constant worry, but his eyes, though tired, held a spark of unwavering dedication. Several assistants, younger and less experienced, hurried to keep up with him, fetching supplies, holding bandages, and offering what support they could.
Mendal moved with a speed that belied his age and slender build, his hands a blur of motion as he checked a bandage, mixed a potion, and murmured instructions to an assistant, all in the span of a few seconds. He seemed to be everywhere at once, his attention divided between a dozen different tasks, yet somehow managing to maintain a sense of calm amidst the controlled chaos.
Finally, as he was turning from one patient to another, he caught sight of Julia. His face, previously etched with concern, broke into a relieved smile. He hurried towards her, his long strides covering the distance quickly.
"Julia! Thank the heavens you're alright!" he exclaimed, his voice a mixture of relief and worry. "We heard rumours of increased goblin activity in the Tallenwood. I've been worried sick. Are you injured? What can I do?" He reached out, his hands hovering as if to check her for wounds, his concern evident in every line of his face.
Julia smiled warmly, placing a calming hand on his arm. "I'm fine, Mendal, truly. A few scrapes and bruises, nothing more. It's William here who needs your attention." She gestured towards William, who stood awkwardly by her side, feeling a bit like an intruder in this scene of urgent medical care.
Mendal's gaze shifted to William, his expression instantly turning professional, his eyes assessing, cataloguing, diagnosing. He took in William's rumpled clothes, his makeshift crutch, and the bandage on his leg, his mind already formulating a preliminary assessment. "Found him in Tallenwood, unconscious" Julia explained, filling in the details. "He was attacked by a goblin. Nasty bite, looked infected. He managed to find some citrusroot and apply it, which was remarkably resourceful."
Mendal, his relief at Julia's safety momentarily forgotten, turned his full attention to William, his eyes narrowing in professional scrutiny. "Let's have a look, then," he said, his voice brisk but not unkind. He gestured towards a nearby stool, and William gratefully sat down, wincing slightly as he shifted his weight.
Mendal knelt beside him, his long fingers gently but expertly unwrapping the makeshift bandage, revealing the wound beneath. He probed the area around the bite, his touch light but firm, his eyes assessing the colour of the skin, the texture of the tissue, the presence of any lingering inflammation. He poked and prodded, his brow furrowed in concentration, his silence amplifying William's anxiety.
"Hmm," Mendal murmured, more to himself than to William. "Remarkable. The wound is almost completely healed. You can see the signs of a significant infection, but it's cleared up entirely. The tissue is knitting together nicely, the skin is already regenerating. This should have taken days, perhaps even weeks, to reach this stage, especially with a goblin bite. They carry all sorts of nasty bacteria." He looked up at William, his eyes filled with a mixture of puzzlement and professional curiosity. "You said you used citrusroot?"
"Yes," William replied, somewhat meekly, feeling a bit like a specimen under a microscope. "I crushed the leaves and applied them as a poultice. I... I remembered reading that citrus had antiseptic properties and those leaves gave off a strong citrus smell."
Mendal nodded slowly, impressed. "Indeed, it does. Citrusroot is a potent remedy, but even so... this level of healing, in such a short time... it's extraordinary. You say this happened just yesterday?"
"Less than a day ago, actually," William corrected, feeling a growing sense of unease at the doctor's astonishment. He'd hoped his makeshift treatment would be sufficient, but Mendal's reaction suggested something far more unusual had occurred.
Mendal's eyebrows rose, his scepticism evident. "That's... highly unusual. I've seen citrusroot work wonders, but never anything like this. There must be other factors at play. Perhaps a particularly potent batch of the herb, or... or something else entirely." He paused, his gaze thoughtful. "The only times I've heard of wounds healing this quickly... well, that involved magic. Powerful healing magic. But that's... that's ancient lore, lost knowledge. It's been centuries since anyone in Aver possessed such abilities." He shook his head, dismissing the thought as fanciful. "Still, it's remarkable. You're a very lucky young man, William. Very lucky indeed."
Julia, who had been watching the examination with quiet concern, spoke up, her voice filled with a mixture of relief and lingering curiosity. "He's fine, then? No need for further treatment?"
"He'll need to keep the wound clean and bandaged, of course," Mendal replied, turning back to his task, "and I'll give him a tonic to help boost his strength. But yes, he's essentially healed. It's quite astonishing." He finished re-bandaging William's leg with clean linen, his movements deft and practiced.
Knowing that Mendal was clearly needed elsewhere, Julia thanked him and gently steered William towards the door. "We won't keep you from your patients, Mendal. Thank you for your help."
Mendal nodded distractedly, already turning his attention back to the crowded room. "Of course, Julia. Take care of yourselves. And William," he added, his voice stopping them at the doorway, "if you experience any further discomfort, or if anything seems amiss, come back immediately. This... this rapid healing is something I'd like to study further, when I have the time."
Once outside the clinic, Julia let out a sigh of relief. "I'm glad you're alright, William. That goblin bite looked nasty. It seems you're a fast healer."
William, however, was still processing Mendal's words, his mind grappling with the implications. "He said... it was like healing magic," he murmured, more to himself than to Julia. "But that's impossible, isn't it? I mean, I'm just... me."
Julia smiled, a knowing expression in her eyes. "Perhaps. Or perhaps this world holds more surprises for you than you realize. Come on, let's find Edward. He'll be at the Adventurers Guild."
As they walked, William couldn't resist the opportunity to delve deeper into the subject that had captivated him since his arrival in this world. "Julia," he began, his voice filled with a mixture of curiosity and hesitant hope, "you mentioned magic. Can you... can you tell me more about it? How it works?"
Julia, accustomed to the awe and curiosity that magic often inspired, readily agreed. "Magic," she explained, "is an innate force, a power that resides within all living beings, though its strength varies greatly. We call this inner power 'mana'. Think of it like a cup of water. When you use magic, you draw upon that mana, like taking a gulp from your cup. The size of the cup, your innate mana capacity, determines how much power you can wield, how complex and potent the spells you can cast."
William listened intently, his analytical mind absorbing the information, trying to fit it into a logical framework. "So, stronger mages have... larger cups?"
Julia nodded. "Precisely. And the act of casting a spell depletes that mana, like drinking from the cup. The more powerful the spell, the more mana it requires. A simple cantrip, like a spark of light, might take a tiny sip. A powerful spell, like the magic missiles I used against the wolves, would require a significant gulp."
"And how do you... refill the cup?" William asked, fascinated by the analogy.
"We absorb mana from the environment," Julia explained. "It's everywhere, in the air, in the earth, in living things. But the ability to absorb it varies greatly. Some individuals have a natural affinity for it, like a wide funnel that allows them to draw in mana quickly and efficiently. Others have a much narrower funnel, making the process slower and more difficult. And the environment itself plays a role. Areas rich in natural energy, like the Tallenwood Forest, have a higher concentration of mana, making it easier to replenish one's reserves. Barren lands, or places tainted by dark magic, might have very little mana available."
"So, a powerful mage," William mused, "is someone with both a large mana pool and a high absorption rate?"
"Exactly," Julia confirmed. "Someone who can store vast amounts of mana and replenish it quickly can cast powerful spells in rapid succession, without tiring. Edward, for example, is a skilled swordsman, and he can imbue his blade with lightning, which is a form of magic. But his mana capacity is relatively limited compared to mine. He's what we call a 'magic swordsman,' capable of enhancing his physical abilities with magic, but not a true spellcaster."
William's eyes widened in understanding. He remembered the crackling energy that had surrounded Edward's sword, the way it had sliced through the wolf with such ease. It wasn't just strength; it was magic, channelled through his weapon. "So, you... you're much stronger, magically speaking?"
Julia blushed slightly, a faint pink colouring her cheeks, a reaction William found unexpectedly endearing, though he quickly pushed the thought aside, focusing on the conversation. "I... I have a natural aptitude for magic," she admitted modestly. "My family has a history of strong mages. I've been trained since childhood."
William couldn't help but exclaim, "That's amazing!" His enthusiasm, his genuine fascination with the subject, was evident in his voice, in his wide-eyed expression.
Julia, slightly flustered by his outburst, continued her explanation, her voice regaining its composure. "There are many different types of magic, each with its own principles and techniques. The most common is elemental magic, harnessing the power of fire, water, earth, and air. There's also enchantment magic, which involves imbuing objects with magical properties, like Edward's sword, or the translation spell I used. And then... there are darker forms." She paused, her expression darkening. "Necromancy, the magic used by Neverus and his Dark Legion, is a perversion of the natural order, a twisting of life and death. It's a foul and dangerous magic, fuelled by suffering and fuelled by death."
"And what about healing magic?" William asked, remembering Mendal's words. "The doctor said my wound healed as if by magic."
Julia's brow furrowed slightly. "True healing magic, the kind that can mend grievous wounds in moments, is incredibly rare. It was once practiced by the priests of the old gods, but that knowledge has been largely lost, faded into legend. There are potions and herbs, like the citrusroot, that can aid in healing, but true restorative magic... that's something else entirely."
William was silent for a moment, digesting this information. The implications were staggering. If he had somehow tapped into a lost form of magic...
"So, how do you actually cast a spell?" he asked, changing the subject, eager to learn more about the mechanics of magic.
"It's a combination of three things," Julia explained. "Mana, which we've discussed, is the fuel. Then there are runes, symbolic representations of magical forces, patterns that shape and direct the flow of mana. And finally, there are incantations, spoken words that act as a catalyst, activating the runes and releasing the spell."
She held out her hand, demonstrating. "For example, the 'magic missile' spell I used earlier. It requires a basic magic output rune, combined with a 'fast arrow' rune to give it speed and direction. The incantation, the spoken words, act as the trigger, releasing the energy in the desired form." She drew a few simple shapes in the air with her finger, a faint golden glow trailing behind her movements. "Think of it like building blocks. Each rune is a component, and the incantation is the instruction manual that tells the mana how to assemble those components into a specific effect. The more complex the spell, the more intricate the runes and the more precise the incantation must be."
William's mind was racing. It was like coding, but with magic instead of computers. A system of logic, of rules, of cause and effect and of course data. He felt a surge of excitement, a spark of understanding. "So, in theory," he said, his voice filled with a newfound enthusiasm, "anyone could learn magic, if they had the right knowledge and enough mana?"
Julia smiled at his eagerness. "In theory, yes. But aptitude varies greatly. Some people are naturally gifted, while others struggle to grasp even the simplest spells. It takes years of practice, of dedication, to master even the basics. And some forms of magic are inherently dangerous, requiring a strong will and a deep understanding of the forces involved." She paused, her expression turning serious. "But yes, William, in theory, you could learn magic."
William's heart skipped a beat. The possibility, however remote, was exhilarating. To learn magic, to wield the power of this world... it was a dream come true, a chance to transcend his limitations, to become something more than just a data analyst.
"Could you... could you teach me?" he asked, the words tumbling out before he could stop them, a mixture of hope and trepidation in his voice.
Julia's smile widened, a genuine expression of warmth and encouragement. "I would be happy to teach you what I know, William. But it won't be easy. It will require patience, dedication, and a willingness to embrace a new way of thinking. But first," she added, her tone turning practical, "we need to find Edward. We should see what the Adventurers Guild has to say about those goblins. Their presence so close to Sharwood is... unsettling." She glanced towards the fortified walls of the town, her expression turning serious, a shadow of worry clouding her features. The darkness, it seemed, was never far away.