Learning magic ended up being a lot more difficult than I thought. I mean, not that I knew what to expect in the first place; magic is a completely new concept to me. But still…
Each and every spell requires a ridiculously long incantation that must be recited perfectly. So long, in fact, that your typical adventuring party resembles tropes straight out of classical JRPGs: melee fighters in the front, mages and archers in the back. If the party somehow got pincered, they'd probably end up dead before a spell could be cast.
To make matters worse, some spells demand specific hand or body movements to be effective. The coordination needed is daunting, and it feels like performing a complex dance routine while reciting a tongue-twisting poem. I've spent countless hours practicing, and yet, I only know a handful of spells even after two years.
That said, my mana pool has grown exponentially since I first cast firebolt. As with most things in life, repetition was the key to growth. I can now cast several dozen of them without issue. In fact, I've advanced entirely from the foundational stage of spellcasting. Or rather, I can, though I'm not sure where to move to.
There's also a noticeable telltale sign for when I'm running out of mana: I become weak-kneed, and my vision starts to blur. I can still usually cast a few more spells in this state, but I risk unconsciousness each and every time. Yes, I've been scolded on more than one occasion by my mom for staying out late because of it. But thankfully, I've been able to hide the fact that I've been learning magic from my parents. Freia has her suspicions, though.
Still, I'm way ahead of the typical five-year-old, which, by the way, is about when most children start dabbling in magic. They have to. Your mana pool only grows in size before puberty hits. Given the randomness of when puberty can hit, the best mages are generally those who are late bloomers. It sucks for the ones who showed promise young but hit puberty before the age of ten, but life simply isn't always fair. Coincidentally, women tend to hit puberty later and thus make up about two-thirds of all mages. Why risk it as a mage when you can take a guaranteed path as a swordsman or archer, you know?
The fact that I started two years before practically anyone else is a huge boon. Even if I hit puberty at about the average age of twelve, I'm bound to be at the upper echelon of mages in terms of raw mana capacity.
Now what I do with all of that mana is another matter altogether. I need to be strategic here. I'm ahead of the curve, but I'm struggling with learning incantations, and this will only get harder as things go on.
I glanced at the book of spells resting beside me. It had taken a few bumps during my practice sessions over the years, but it was still intact.
Maybe there's something in here, I thought.
I flipped through the pages, hoping to find a hint, a clue, or even a forgotten footnote that could offer a shortcut. Alas, nothing.
My thoughts wandered back to my past life. On Earth, technology often provided shortcuts, making complex tasks simpler and more manageable.
Could I apply the same principle to magic here?
I thought on it for quite a bit. The idea intrigued me: what if I could imbue spells into magical items, allowing me to channel my mana into them to cast the spell? Magical items do exist in this world, but not in the form I envisioned. Typically, they possess inherent magical properties, like a sword that burns with fire or a ring that enhances the wearer's strength. However, these items are static in their abilities, limited to a single function or effect.
Conversely, magic circles also exist. These intricate designs can be drawn on surfaces to create temporary enchantments or perform predefined spells when mana is channeled through them. The problem is, they're single-use and often require complex preparations and materials to craft. Once activated, the circle is consumed, and the spell is cast.
But what if I could combine the two concepts? Imagine a ring or an amulet embedded with a small, reusable magic circle. I could pre-imbue these items with various spells, allowing me to cast them instantly by channeling my mana into the item. This could eliminate the need for lengthy incantations and precise hand movements, making spellcasting more efficient and versatile.
Surely this had already been thought of, right? I went back to my book and furiously flipped through the pages. However, I saw no mention of anything like this, just vague descriptions of what types of magical implements exist.
I'll need to find an expert to help me out. I bet I can find one in the nearby library if they're as nerdy as I am with regards to magic. Though that's expensive, which probably means I should come out to my parents about being a mage. Dad won't be too happy…
"No, absolutely not. No son of mine will become a mage!" my dad shouted, his face red with anger.
"Every male in the Starsmith line who attempted it has been an absolute failure," he continued, his voice heavy with disappointment. "Sieg, we tend to mature early. You'll have a subpar amount of mana and likely end up as a lowly warfare mage."
He paused, his expression softening slightly. "I only want what's best for you, son."
"But I've been practicing for years now!" I retorted, frustration bubbling up inside me.
"Have you now? Hah, since when could you even read?" he shot back, a hint of skepticism in his voice.
"I've been reading since I was two, thank you very much." I crossed my arms and pouted.
"So your mana capacity ought to reflect that, then, yeah?" He turned to my mom. "Honey, can you check him out to settle this once and for all?"
"Sure, dear," my mom replied calmly. "But if I get a good reading, will you hear him out?"
"Of course," my dad chuckled.
Mom knelt down to me and held out her hands.
"I've noticed you taking that spell book outside with you every day, by the way," she whispered, winking at me. "Let's show dad how far you've come."
Then, without further motion, she simply recited her spell: "Verum persona intus revelare!"
She paused for a moment, as if scanning me with her eyes, before suddenly turning to my dad with a smirk. "Honey, he's overflowing with mana. I'd say he has the capacity of an intermediate mage at minimum."
"What?! But he's only five years old…"
"Told you," I replied, sticking my tongue out.
What's the fun in being a child again if I can't act like one?
"Sieg," Dad continued, "what exactly are you looking for? We can't afford proper training for you."
"I hear there's a local library nearby. It'll cost 1 silver a month, but with the books available—"
"—Do you know what you're asking of us?" Dad cut in. "That's a significant portion of our monthly expenses."
I looked down at the ground, dejected, but then my mom spoke up.
"There's a woman in town named Ophelia Thunderveil," she said, while crossing her arms and stroking her chin. "She's an old friend of my family and might be able to teach you as a courtesy. If not, we'll reconsider your library idea. Does that sound fair?"
"Yeah!" I shouted back excitedly.
"But honey—"
"—No buts! Sieg has worked hard for this. Supporting him is the least we can do."
"Fine..."
And with that, I was off to find this Ophelia person.