"This would be a record of Delahost, and the history of its inhabitants," Myrel said. He slid the book over. "I thought I'd look more into the places you mentioned while you stayed here, but so far I haven't had any luck."
"These are letters then?" Cyrus asked, furrowing his brow. "They don't resemble the ones in the other books I've seen."
"That would be because these are runes, also known as the written form of magic," Myrel said, his grey eyes brightening. "I'm afraid I can't see things as one normally would. It's the cost I paid for misusing magic when I was younger. Fortunately, I trained myself to be able to see aether. Which is how I'm able to read these runes or see you and Sylven."
Sylven took his spot at the table, scooping a modest amount of eggs onto his plate. "For which I am glad. I do well enough around here without having to take care of an old blind man."
"You've mentioned aether a few times now… Do you mean magic?" Cyrus asked.
"It's the source of magic, yes," Myrel said, resting his arms on the table. "Without it, a warlock's spells would do little more than confuse people. Of course, using it is dangerous."
Cyrus frowned. "What makes it so dangerous?"
"Have you ever tried staring at the sun?" Sylven asked.
Cyrus arched his brow. "Not that I can remember."
"Well, you know how if you look directly at it, you'll go blind, but without it, the world we know wouldn't exist?" Sylven asked. "Aether is similar to that. It exists around us, aiding our growth, but those who come in direct contact with it are often left a lesser version of themselves."
"They call it aetherial madness," Myrel said. He shut his book, and set it off to the side. "The misuse of magic often corrodes the minds of its wielders. That's why people fear magic, and anyone who uses it."
"That's why you asked me how I was feeling when I woke up," Cyrus said, leaning forward. "You wanted to make certain I hadn't lost my mind."
Myrel nodded. "The amount of magic you used is something even I would hesitate from. It's why I spend so much time researching magic. There are certain words which help guide the flow of aether, and keep it from rampaging through our minds. Using them is what allows us to change the laws of reality, safely bending them to our will."
"Doesn't that mean anyone can use magic then. As long as they know the words?" Cyrus asked. He picked at his roll, tearing a small section off, and rolling it into a small ball.
Myrel chuckled. "I'm afraid it's a bit more complicated than that. First, one must be chosen, forming a connection between you and the world around you. Without that, you'd just be mumbling nonsense."
"You make it sound as though it's a living thing," Cyrus said.
"I happen to believe it is," Myrel said. He waved his hand. "Not as you and I are, of course, but a living entity of some sort, that much I'm certain."
"You're letting your food get cold, Master Myrel," Sylven said. He pushed a bit of the eggs onto the old man's plate. "Eat, before it all goes to waste."
Cyrus leaned back as Myrel began to eat, still reeling in shock from what he learned.
"It's a bit much to take in, isn't it?" Sylven asked, scooping a second helping of eggs onto his plate. "Even I become confused if I listen to him long enough, but I've also learned a lot from him. Have you… considered our proposal any further?"
"You mean about learning how to control my magic?" Cyrus asked. He sighed and set down the roll. "I have. It's true that I fear hurting others with this… power, but I'm also aware that I can't run away from it. It's a part of me, one I need to know more about, and… it might help me remember who I am."
Sylven nodded. "Yes, Master Myrel told me about what happened. It's terrifying to think about, losing all of your memories."
Myrel pushed the remainder of his food onto his fork. "Indeed, but I'm hoping to learn a bit more through your magic. From what I can tell, its unlike anything I've ever seen, and it might open a door to new knowledge."
Somewhere in the distance, a bell tolled, signaling the change of the hour. Myrel smiled, and climbed to his feet, collecting his empty plate, and mug in the process. "For now, I'll leave you to finish your breakfast. Once you're done, Sylven will bring you to my observatory, where we can test your abilities. We'll start easy this morning, so you don't need to rush."
As Myrel dropped his dishes into the basin, Cyrus realized he had yet to even finish his roll. Sylven arched his brow as he finished the last of his eggs.
"You don't need to worry too much, we have our fair share of experience with the dangers of magic," Sylven said, speaking between mouthfuls. "Although his methods may be confusing, I promise he knows what he's doing. I've learned from him since I was young, so if you ever have any questions, you can ask me."
"I appreciate the offer," Cyrus said. He took a sip of his tea, which sent a tingle down his throat with a sharp spice, followed by the taste of sweet nectar. A rush of energy flowed through Cyrus as he frowned, and glanced at Sylven. "This… I thought this was tea?"
Sylven grinned. "It is. My own blend of lavender and wither root herbs. It helps wake you up, doesn't it? I spent three years attempting different mixtures before I stumbled across this. What do you think?"
"I can honestly say I can't remember tasting anything like this before," Cyrus said. He and Sylven stared at each for a moment before breaking into laughter.
...
After he finished breakfast, Cyrus followed Sylven upstairs, and through the dark archway across from his room. A long corridor sat beyond the stone, with a dim light illuminating the end. As they grew closer, Cyrus's eyes widened in disbelief.
The corridor opened into a large stone hall, with a steepled roof, adorned by a circular glass window. Outside, the city of Galeden bustled beneath the clear blue sky. The sunlight streaming through the glass revealed a series of strange scorch marks, piles of ash, and warped statues that resembled molten waterfalls, scattered throughout the room. A pile of broken crates and empty barrels sat beside the door, the wood twisted and glistening.
'What happened in here?' Cyrus wondered, carefully stepping around a basin filled with bubbling black water. A puff of steam rose from the surface, yet there was no fire to heat it.
As he scanned the room, the statue of a beautiful nude woman caught his eye, her sleek skin covered by a layer of frost. Despite the warmth of the room, shards of ice grew from her feet, wrapped in a cloud of mist.
'That's odd… I wonder what type of spell could cause this?' Cyrus wondered. He hesitantly approached the statue, and drew his hand through the mist. Particles of ice clung to his skin, and goosebumps ran up his arm.
"You'd be wise to leave that alone. Unless, of course, you wish to lose your fingers to frostbite," Myrel warned. He stood at a desk set within an alcove, lined with vials and jars. "It's a spell I cast three months ago, and I still have yet to figure out a way to disperse it."
Cyrus moved a few steps back, and wiped his fingers off on his trousers. "Is it really that dangerous?"
"More than you might think," Myrel said, rummaging through the bottles. He twisted open a jar, and eyed its contents with a frown. "Most magic is. That particular spell I discovered while translating a scroll from the kingdom of Ildrain, and it nearly killed me to cast it. Fortunately, I had Sylven here, and he pulled me back in time."
"Though I nearly lost my arm in the process," Sylven said, strolling silently across the room. Cyrus frowned. The young man walked with unnatural grace.
"Say, do you know what I did with the vial of ildrium seeds?" Myrel asked. "I can't find them."
"They're to your left," Sylven said. He reached over Myrel's shoulder, and picked up a small glass bottle filled with red bead-like seeds. "Apologies. I reorganized your shelves after you summoned a whirlwind in here."
"Did you? Well, I suppose it does look better," Myrel said. He made his way to the center of the room, his large form outlined by the sunlight. The floor rippled as he raised his hand, waving it through the air. "Wriese steone."