Over the course of the next five days, Lady Feywood dutifully continued her structured daily lectures on teaching young Eric the fundamental historical, theoretical and universal principles of magic within the vast palace library's cavernous yet cozily intimate whispering stone rotunda.
Through reviewing the ancient leather-bound tomes under his grandmother's patient guidance, Eric gradually deepened his foundational understanding of the ambient mystical energy source that magic wielders tapped into. This power could become concentrated along certain mapped pathways across the world known as ley lines - powerful currents and conduits of innate magical force flowing through the very veins of the earth since its primordial origins at the dawn of creation.
Those scholars and mages most deeply versed in these ancient forces had long since learned through tireless research and pilgrimages to sites rumored to intersect with the lines how to detect portions where the ley lines naturally pooled into swirling eddies of concentrated power. Seeking out these nodes allowed seasoned sorcerers access to draw from greater wells of energy for their spellcasting.
In addition to the world's natural reservoirs of magic, Lady Feywood illuminated for her attentive grandson the existence of enchanted relics and artifacts that could greatly augment and focus the innate talents and abilities of those few gifted individuals capable of unraveling their mysteries - from common charms and spell stones granting minor blessings or luck, to legendary staves, rings, amulets, grimoires and crystal orbs harbouring unfathomable power tied to the realms themselves.
When Lady Feywood offhandedly mentioned Lord Feywood's intricately rune-carved oaken staff capped with an enormous cloudy gemstone as one such spell-amplifying ancestral relic tied to their family's ancient legacy, Eric's innate curiosity and ambition were immediately sparked. His wide azure eyes grew dreamy as his imagination took flight pondering the untapped well of arcane knowledge that must surely dwell locked within his grandfather's etched staff just waiting to be fully awakened someday by one worthy of its magic.
Yet as the days of structured magic lessons slowly progressed, despite his best efforts, Eric gradually grew more restless, his inboxily bouncing knee betraying his increasing impatience to finally put this wealth of new theoretical knowledge into active practice through real spellcasting and elemental manipulation.
Mercifully, Lady Feywood soon detected her beloved grandson's growing anticipation and gently favored him with an understanding smile that instantly set him at ease. "Worry not Eric, for while comprehensive fundamentals shall always form the bedrock upon which later practice and instinct are built, I do believe you may be ready soon to finally begin lessons of a more...practical nature."
The very next morning found Eric scarcely able to contain his trembling excitement as he walked into one of the royal palace's sprawling courtyard gardens where Lord Feywood and two elder mages secretly sworn to silence stood waiting...
After so many days devoted to book learning, the hour had finally arrived for young Eric Emberhart to take his first fledgling steps toward actively wielding the mystical birthright slumbering within his spirit.