"Justice will catch up to you!...
Jorael… Aid me…
Ahh… you're just a lad… a youth… the boss will find a good use for you!...
Father, look at my drawing!...
Please! Anyone! Save me!...
My Son…
This is the harsh reality of existence…
Miranda…
Elijah…
Joanna…
Roland…
Survival of the fittest…"
Jorael awoke with a yelp, gripped by the horror of nightmares. He found himself drenched in sweat and tears, his abrupt awakening rousing Tor'Elkast.
"What is it, Young One?" the Sage asked in concern.
Panting heavily, Jorael managed to stammer:
"I… I… I lost them all…
I'm not sure if I'll ever see my wife and my son again…
Now I'm covered in blood…
Would they accept me, a killer, as a spouse and father?!..."
"Foolish Youth!
You did what was necessary. Those slaver vermin got what they deserved.
Your wife and son would understand.
Now, gather yourself, and try to regain some strength…
You'll require it…" Tor'Elkast tried to soothe the boy.
Jorael ceased his tears, wiped them away with his hands, and shouted:
"Elder, is that your attempt at encouragement?!"
The Sage sighed, taking a moment before answering seriously:
"My name is Tor'Elkast…
You foolish boy, you've still not eaten! Consider that!
If you starve to death, it would bring dishonor to your parent's sacrifice!
They gave their lives for YOU! They did everything to ensure your safety!
Now, the least you can do is eat, and LIVE!"
Tor'Elkast's sagacious words resonated deep within Jorael. The boy stood up, determination flickering in his eyes, he said:
"Yes… you're correct…
I must stop mourning for what I couldn't accomplish, and start contemplating how to transform myself.
By altering yourself, you alter the world.
I need to mature, I need knowledge, I need power, I need strength.
Joanna and Roland's sacrifice won't be in vain.
I'll persist, for them, and if there's a way to return to my world, I'll discover it, for my wife and my son.
So, my request from yesterday still stands, please Elder…
Teach me to be a Sage!"
"My name is Tor'Elkast…
That was a spirited speech, Young One, but before any of that, you need sustenance!" Tor'Elkast retorted.
"Yes… thank you…" Jorael responded, a smile touching his face.
…
After some preparations, Jorael left Vas'Anellir in search of food, armed with nothing but his magic. The Sage had shown him another exit hidden within the library, a much safer route than the pit he had initially fallen into.
The exit opened up to the forest, cleverly concealed from those unfamiliar with the area.
"Wow, I would never have found this passage!" Jorael exclaimed, stepping out of Vas'Anellir.
He was on his own now, his survival depended on his own skills. He needed to find food.
His thoughts became words, and he uttered:
"Thank you, Mother. Thank you, Father.
Even though our time together was short, I'll keep those memories close to my heart.
You taught me so much, and now I won't let you down!"
…
Several hours later, Jorael returned to the ancient library, triumphant.
"Ah… Young One, you've survived, commendable!" Tor'Elkast mocked.
"Elder, I'm the one who will feast on this plump bunny tonight!" Jorael countered, grinning proudly.
"Ah… even if I was still living, I wouldn't partake in eating that poor charred rabbit…" Tor'Elkast muttered.
"What? Are you teasing again?!" Jorael asked, incredulous.
"No, perhaps you are not aware, but we Elves abstain from consuming meat.
We respect all life forms, a gift from our God of Life, Landris." Tor'Elkast stated gravely.
"ugh… your words are making me reconsider…
No, I took this rabbit's life, and I must consume it.
Thanks to its sacrifice, I will live another day…" Jorael acknowledged his meal.
"Carry on, I do not scorn you for eating meat, it's a necessity…
Although, I can't say the same for the Dwarves.
They hold feasts filled with an assortment of roasted animals, washed down with copious amounts of beer, all to satiate their gluttonous desires.
Ah! Their inability to wield magic is truly deserved…" Tor'Elkast began, before being interrupted by Jorael:
"Yeah, who would want a party with delicious meat and liquor…
Hold on, what?... Dwarves can't use magic?!" Jorael asked, astounded.
"Yes. It seems their God neglected that detail…
However, they've partially remedied that with their alchemical prowess…" Tor'Elkast replied, then continued:
"But this is a topic for your lessons, Young One, so you'd best eat now, because afterwards your journey to become a Sage begins."
…
Jorael enjoyed his meal, complemented by some fruits he had foraged from the forest.
With that, his lessons could commence:
"Ahem. Young One…
You've learned how to conjure Firebolt with two distinct formulas, and Heal with Red Magic, correct?"
"Yes…"
"Good, good.
Well done. Now, forget everything you know about magic."
"WHAT?!" Jorael exclaimed in shock, then asked:
"Is this another one of your jokes, Elder?"
"My name is Tor'Elkast…
No, I am not jesting, Young One. Here's why:
Your parents meticulously instructed you to activate your Magic circuit as you recite the spell formula, yes?
We Sages operate differently.
Our Magic circuits are perpetually active; hence, we need not waste time with spell casting.
We instantly conjure it.
The entire process happens within our Magic circuits and minds. You only have to unleash it."
"ugh… why must it be this way?
I discard my knowledge from another world to embrace the wisdom of this one.
And now, everything was incorrect and I must start afresh?" the pupil grumbled.
"You foolhardy youth.
What you learned wasn't incorrect, just the longer method.
Now, you will learn the shortcut." The Elf retorted.
"Fine, fine. I'm all ears." Jorael grumbled, annoyance evident.
Tor'Elkast sighed, and resumed his lesson:
"Excellent. Now, let's review:
As you may be aware, our bodies, except for Dwarfs, possess an inbuilt Magic circuit.
This Magic in your circuit primarily originates from the heptagram - a seven-pointed star in a circle, located on your back.
Each of the seven points of the heptagram, known as Fulcrums, channel Magic power and activate spells, typically achieved by regular individuals through enchanting formulas, as your parents would have taught you.
When you recite a formula, you unlock the associated Fulcrum that corresponds to the spell's level.
Becoming a Sage requires the permanent unlocking of all seven Fulcrums.
This process is difficult, and painful, but with 50-100 years, it should be achievable..."
"W-what?! 50-100 years?!" the youngster objected.
"And what exactly did you envision about becoming a Sage?
Although, considering you're a Traveler who has already started learning Magic at such a young age...
Maybe you can complete it quicker..." The Sage attempted to uplift his young student's spirits. He then continued:
"Henceforth, we shall focus on permanently unlocking the first Fulcrum - the Fulcrum of Sight."
"Alright, alright.
So, each Fulcrum corresponds to a Magic level?" inquired Jorael.
"Indeed, young one, you're beginning to grasp:
The Fulcrum of Sight corresponds to basic Magic spells.
The Fulcrum of Smell relates to novice Magic spells.
The Fulcrum of Taste pertains to intermediate Magic spells.
The Fulcrum of Hearing correlates to advanced Magic spells.
The Fulcrum of Tact links to major Magic spells.
The Fulcrum of Soul connects to superior Magic spells.
The Fulcrum of the Sage aligns with Sage spells.
Each Fulcrum gives access to seven spells.
Moreover, unlocking them also provides superhuman abilities related to the respective Fulcrum."
"Does this mean there are a total of 49 spells?!" Jorael asked with youthful innocence.
"Correct, but more precisely, there are 42 known spells as Sage level spells remain undiscovered." The teacher responded with a hint of mystery.
"How can that be?... You don't know any Sage level spell?!" the child asked again.
"Who can say..." Tor'Elkast replied cryptically.
"You Old Coot..." Jorael grumbled in frustration.
"Hmm. Now, let me explain how to permanently unlock the Fulcrum of Sight..."
...
Numerous days had elapsed since Jorael's encounter with Tor'Elkast in the long-abandoned library of Vas'Anellir.
His days were packed with rigorous meditation exercises. When he wasn't meditating, he was hunting or foraging for food. When he wasn't leaving his newfound home, he was struggling to sleep amidst terrifying nightmares.
Both his Magic and physical state were evolving, marking the initial steps on his journey to becoming a Sage.
"Why is this so damn difficult?!...
I've been sitting here for weeks, and I can't fully understand the Fulcrum of Sight.
I can almost see it when I close my eyes and focus.
But when I'm almost there, it just vanishes...
God, this is so infuriating..." Jorael cried out in frustration.
"Young one, this is no simple task.
Even I, Tor'Elkast, the wise one from the Tor house of the Elven Realm, took several years to unlock just the first Fulcrum.
However, I may have a suggestion that could assist you..." The Sage was cut off by his apprentice:
"Now, after months of training, you come up with a suggestion?!
Go ahead Elder, I'm all ears..."
"My name is Tor'Elkast...
When I was striving to unlock my Fulcrum of Sight permanently, I fell into depression, making no progress for years.
Then, when I started visualizing them in my mind, and as I celebrated, I managed to reach and grasp the Fulcrum..." explained the Sage.
"Them? Them who?!" inquired Jorael.
"Hmm. I won't tell you this.
But envision a sight that brings you joy, start seeing this with your mind's eye." elaborated the Elf once again.
"Why does everything have to be so cryptic with you?!" Jorael yelled in frustration.
Subsequently, the youngster started imagining during meditation:
"A joyful sight... a joyful sight...
It's starting to form... just slightly, I think...
A piece of paper... A sketch...
It's Elijah's sketch he made for me! It's a picture of me, him, and Miranda!!!
My son is so adorable... this sketch brought me so much happiness..."
All of a sudden, the Fulcrum of Sight was within Jorael's reach. He could feel it, right at the base of his neck on his back.
"woARGHHHHH!" Jorael let out an unexpected cry of pain.
As he unlocked the Fulcrum, a surge of searing pain marked his back.
"M-my back is burning!!! it's painful!!!" the child shrieked in agony as he started to undress.
A burn scar had formed on his back.
"Oh... I forgot to mention, young one.
Unlocking a Fulcrum will cause it to burn through your flesh.
A permanent scar will form, and once you complete all other Fulcrums, the heptagram will be visible.
The scars from these everlasting burns on your back serve as the Sage's mark." Tor'Elkast explained.
"You forgot?!
I can't decide if you're teasing me or just..." Jorael raged.
"Don't be upset, young one, I am old after all...
Consider that you can now learn all seven base Magic spells." The Sage attempted to change the subject.
"I already know two of them, can I use them now without having to chant the formulas?" Jorael asked with anticipation.
"You can certainly give it a try, young one..."
Jorael managed to ease the pain and decided to try casting a spell.
"Hmm... Firebolt?" Jorael pronounced uncertainly, directing his palm towards Tor'Elkast.
The moment he spoke, a purple heptagram appeared in front of his palm, quickly morphing into a fireball that shot towards Tor'Elkast.
The fireball passed through the Sage's floating form and collided with the cold stone library wall, exploding into a dazzling flame that left no mark.
"You foolish child. Are you trying to set Vas'Anellir on fire?!" Tor'Elkast scolded angrily.
"I'm sorry, Old Man, you told me I could try…"
Thus, Jorael took his first step on the path to becoming a Sage. Despite numerous obstacles and difficulties ahead, his newfound determination, along with the Sage's wise guidance, would lead him to fully etch the heptagram on his back sooner than the Elf could have imagined.