Forgotten Magic

[Horizon's End]

“My pardons, but what is it that you wanted, good sir?” Thalassos asked patiently, the other’s Salvic was truly pitiable, full of omissions and word orderings that would have made the youngest boy squeal with disgust back home yet sadly, he realized, it was beginning to sound…passable.

“…The Kraenyth Cycle…” was all he made out amidst a jungle of ill-pronounced words yet the name was enough to cause the young librarian to grimace inwardly. Why did people enjoy trash so readily when better books were accessible. In his head he recalled this particular tale and was again reminded of the unknown author’s truly appalling writing style, dry as a bone and lacking any proper literary devices, and of the headache inducing plot which bordered on a cliché of clichés. The ending which force-fed its readers the tragedy of the lovers separation rather than instilling the emotion from the event itself, the climactic battle between thinly veiled avatars of good and evil…

“Excuse me, but where can I find it?” Said a distant voice with a slight edge. Looking up, Thalassos remembered he was supposed to help the man and quickly pointed him towards where to find it. He shook his head slightly, some people, he thought, some people. This was the perfect job, though, as he had begun reading through the library’s stock which was so wildly different from that he could have accessed back home. This stock contained books which dealt with magic, for one, and already he had mentally indexed all the books which dealt with the issue. As no one seemed to be coming into the library, it was rather late, after all, Thalassos headed over to a particular book which had caught his interest.

The Evolution of Magical Thought


“…for years after that the world was shrouded in magical obscurity. The refinement of this skill which had reached levels incomprehensible was lost to all but few of the ancient mages. Even to this day some of their techniques lie lost to the ages, while some languish in dusty bookshelves after their keepers gave up on understanding them. It is important not to assume that this means today’s magic is still but a shadow of the ancient greats as it has progressed far beyond them in other aspects. For instance offensive ma…”
Thalassos put the book down as he let his eyes adjust back to the room’s comforting light. The book was truly fascinating in so many ways yet it lacked the instruction he sought. It was truly lamentable that most instructive texts were designed with a reasonable background in mind, few (so far none) seemed to cater to those whose mind was a true tabula rasa in that regard. It was either that or they assumed a spark the user had some innate control over and try as he might, and try he did, Thalassos sensed nothing of the kind. His quest for this had oft been sidetracked by this very volume to which he kept going back to as he felt the power the words might have had, the references the concepts might have held, had he been able to extract them.

Putting the leather-bound copy back in its place he wandered around somewhat aimlessly, lost in his inner musings about what the nature of magic could be. It was dark outside and he had volunteered to close the library meaning he was currently alone once the man finalized his loan. Signing the papers, he let the man leave with a weak wave as he was too caught up to talk. He knew somewhere here there had to be something, a city of this size, about twice the size of the Kingdom of Ead’Nith where he hailed from, had to have some primer in some form. Thalassos, however, was patient, if he found nothing soon he would have to resort to an apprenticeship which was, to him, a horrid thought. He was too much of an independent learner to wish that yet not stubborn enough to rule it out, looking out the window he nodded slowly while thinking, there’s always the Aera.

[Horizon's End]

“…knew the havoc wreaked by the war [of the Tap] and knew that so long as such a force existed some would turn it to evil. They blamed not the users but their weapon and in a terrible echo of Eoschyl’s fallacy they came together for a council. The Council of the Elat Nilid. A chilling phrase to those who know it as it was what most scholars agree a catastrophic misuse of magi…”
Hearing a disembodied voice he pulled away with a struggle. Thalassos being Thalassos, he had opened the book again and had reached a section which spoke of the aftermath of the war, almost finishing the chapter. He cursed softly when he heard the man call out, an ancient curse which was meaningless in his environs and might even have sounded clever in his old dialect but a curse nonetheless. The man was obviously a local, the distinct simplified Salvic he had come to recognize gave the man away though it sounded slightly better to his ears, as if the dialect was not quite as degraded. Thalassos had, of course, completely missed the questions as his mind had wandered though he had heard the word magic which piqued his interest.

He scuttled towards the main desk with the book still in hand. It was, of course, a Salvic book though the title was written in a plethora of languages which had caused him no end of grief as the Tradespeak translation had the exact same cover. Humming to himself softly he got back to the desk to find a wizened old man, his heart began to beat faster. He knew enough of stories to know that the best of mages were always old and somewhat disheveled and the man before him did not disappoint. His eyes were likely as wide as a young boy’s upon meeting the King’s emissary for the first time, shining with thinly veiled excitement as he pondered this wizard of a man who had said magic. The well-lit library seemed vaster than it was, he, for one, liked its cozy manageable size much unlike the too-vast libraries at the heart of this city or the seemingly endless fated library he had left behind, yet now it dwarfed everything expanding beyond his vision.

“Excuse me, sir?” Thalassos asked in hushed tones. He had just noticed the man’s eyes were not of a uniform color and, though he could not be certain, he thought he noted the pattern was changing.

“Good evening, I said, I am looking for Eoschyl’s Lays of the Eadir. I was told you have it.” The man’s voice was a little dry, though Thalassos began to doubt the man was actually a native. The Salvic the man spoke was too academic for this time he had come to realize through the idiosyncrasies of the tongue, much like a man who learns a language through study rather than immersion. Thalassos’s heart was beating at a frightening pace, he was sure the library was acting to create an echo the man would hear; this was what he had been waiting for.

He motioned the man to follow not trusting himself to speak, he was sure he noticed those eerie eyes looking at him, querying him but before he was able to make sure of this they were seemingly oblivious to him. He realized the man might be put-off by his particular dialect, too archaic and seemingly cultured for a man Thalassos’s age yet before he could decide what to do about this they had arrived to where the book was. It was then he remembered the book was nothing more than a collection of narrative poems about a mythological race. His heart sunk, he must have imagined the man saying magic. Thalassos exhaled loudly as the disappointment sunk in, he had gotten his hopes up yet again.

“Well, it seems the library is well staffed, you did not consult a single page to get here, young man.” He was noticeably amused as he spoke, as if oblivious to the younger’s consternation. The man sat down in a plush chair not far from the end of the aisle with the book in hand as Thalassos just stood there in silent grief. He always did this when a man like that walked in, always. He started to walk away when he heard the man argue with himself softly.

The words were meaningless to Thalassos though he was able to recognize the tongue of the Raiaeran elves. Another mystery for the man with eyes of many colors. He put it out of his head knowing he was grasping at straws now. No wizard would simply walk into the library and ask for a Grimoire or a Spellbook and then be so gracious as to explain it, that kind of thing simply did not happen, not to him.

[Horizon's End]

Trudging back to the main desk Thalassos stared past the multilingual cover of the book which had so transfixed him before the encounter. His head was shaking imperceptibly and he was fully unaware of the movement. Ashen eyes became unfocused before another voice yet again snapped him out his trance, this time he shook his head more purposefully reminding himself that in the year he had spent outside the Walls of home he had suffered too many disappointments of this nature. In truth it wasn’t his fault since his mind could not but help by lulled into hoping, it was who he was.

Thalassos walked over to the sole visitor with his eyes still downcast and as he neared the dark green chair where the man sat he heard elven murmuring again. It irritated him slightly though not enough to wake him up from his dark mood, at least if I could understand what he was saying I’d be certain the man’s just reading his poems. It was a stupid thought, really, since the language barrier allowed him to cling on to his stupid fantasy bothering his rational side which had grown attuned to the signs of self-delusion.

“Young man, are you ill? You seem oblivious to my questions.” The words finally broke through in that odd Salvic catching Thalassos off-guard. He noticed two odd eyes catching his own, a quizzical expression on them before he spoke again, “That’s an interesting book you have there. I did enjoy their take on the Tap War, flawed as it was.”

“It’s Thalassos, sir. And I do not find their account so flawed.” He said as his voice trailed off, those words had been terribly hard to speak as his instinct had been to ramble on with questions he had penned up. His mind had wandered from such intelligent questions as those that argued the authors’ merits in relation to Aldrian’s Ancient History to childish ones such as what kind of magic the man had put on his eyes.

Apparently amused at the other’s vacuous stares the man peered up from his book more fully before speaking again, “Thalassos it is then, young man. So you disagree? A lot of people tend to take the first book they read on a subject as the unquestionable truth but one should really try to get more than the one opinion.”

Thalassos hesitated slightly, he found it hard to disagree with people older than him but this was probably harmless. “Excuse me, sir, but…I find theirs to be the least biased history among Aldrian’s, Clariun’s or Hthul’s, the others aren’t really worth mentioning.”

He saw the other’s eyes widen very slightly and the colors swirl in a marked manner. “Well, young man, it seems I was wrong. It’s good to find someone else who appreciates the days long gone but don’t you find their treatment to be a little shallow on the closing aspects, truthfully the details are hard to find but it’s filled with conjecture and counter-factuals, no?”

“Well, I suppose that it is possible to say that but considering that the book is on the history of magic at heart some of their omissions are forgivable, not to mention the antiquity of it, new developments could not have been incorporated. I did enjoy the possibilities they entertained, their argument for the likeliness of an early defeat was riveting.” Thalassos was caught up, he tended to alienate some when topics of theory and history came up. It was not easy to stop him once he began yet few were willing to indulge him in such intellectual discussion for argument’s sake. He continued hurriedly lest he lose his train of thought, “As for…”

The other’s throaty laugh stopped him cold. “So this is why you work in a library, young man, it suits you well. Perhaps you can help me with this dilemma I’m having.”

“Sir?” was all he managed to breathe out, his face was flushed realizing he had begun to ramble.

“It’s a trifling matter but I can’t make sense of this book. It seems to refer to texts I’ve never heard of, discoveries I can’t fathom and people who are lost to history, not to mention the difficult language,” said the man nonchalantly with only a hint of the old amusement showing through.

He had read it once; the poems were interesting and well written and to his surprise written in a slightly archaic, to him, Salvic meaning it must be nigh illegible for most. His mind raced through the pages coming up empty handed, he had noticed none of those things and ventured a look at the copy the man held. It was the same book he had read. His heartbeat quickened as his confusion grew, “Sir? I’m not sure what you mean, that…that’s a book of poems, is it not?” was the baffled reply.

What he got was another throaty laugh.

[Horizon's End]

“Lays of the Eadir

“…

The rules have been upset
Chaos looms in the horizon
Balance and order are breaking
The tempest will soon begin

Spirits lost, wander and despair
Spirits mourn the scarred face
Life and death are battling
The tempest will soon begin

Standing on horizon’s end
The remnant gathers to see the light
Past and present are disappearing
The tempest has begun”
Nice imagery, isn’t it? It’s also part of a lay that establishes one of the most precise chronologies of the War of the Tap. That’s only part of this poem which in turn is only part of the book but you know that,” he spoke in such a serious way his amusement must have been truly great while he watched the other’s breath visibly quicken, eyes widen, truly like a boy.

“What…what are you trying to say?” Thalassos whispered, this was it, this was why today would be the start of his story, this was why he had been looking for the opportunity.

“Nothing, I was simply joking, young man,” he responded matter-of-factly only to counter the other’s chagrin with a grin of his own. “Alas, I suppose what I’m actually trying to say is that I can’t make sense of a lot of this which is a pity since it was supposed to tell me where to look. One doesn’t come to the middle of nowhere, no offense, merely for such a popular book. I mean, Eluriand’s library has volumes annotating the symbolism within the text but they’re all useless to me if my theory’s right; that this book hides much more than allegories and metaphor, much more than an epic of old. Even so what I’ve discovered has led me to believe somewhere amidst this obscuring text lies the key to something I would dearly like to find.”

Thalassos nodded while swallowing, eyes wider than he remembered them ever being.

“Well what do you say, young man, does this sound like something you might be interested in?”

Thalassos nodded while swallowing, eyes wider than he remembered them ever being.

The other smiled, “Well, let’s begin then, shall we? You will probably want to read this book again. I’ll write out --” the voice trailed off as he saw Thalassos shaking his head. “It’s hard to start unless you consciously think about what I’ve said while you read…”

“Sir, I remember the book. I can reinterpret it in my mind much more quickly than if I read it again.” Again the words came hard, he simply could not easily refuse an elder’s advice, besides this he knew that he would be met with condescension; even after he had proved his ability people were still convinced he had only a partial recollection never understanding that the entirety of the book was nestled in his mental library. That was why when the other’s appraising look ended with a nod Thalassos was pleasantly surprised.

“You do that, then, if you are as well read as you’ve led me to believe finding the obvious references shouldn’t be too difficult. My research has narrowed down the crucial lays to the final part, the epilogue that describes the beginning of the War of the Tap. The problem lies in that I’m not sure what to look for, a man? a place? a book? How the hidden information is helpful eludes me.” He sounded resigned Thalassos noted, as if coming out to Salvar had been his last hope.

Thalassos nodded yet was strong enough to ask a question he ached to know the answer of, “I’ll try but I think knowing what you are looking for would make my job a lot simpler.”

“Indeed it would, young man, but I hope you don’t think me a foolish old man for thinking this. I want to find the Tap,” the old man whispered.

“I…I don’t understand,” was all he could reply. The Tap wasn’t a place, it was well understood as far as he knew.

The other laughed again, “I’m not sure I do either but that’s the only thing that makes sense. I thought it must be wrong, that the clues were misleading me but time and time again that’s what I was ‘told’ to look for. That’s why I came here, that’s why I hold this book but still I don’t know why I did this except that I know it’s important.” There was a slight tone of desperation, of madness, even, yet also one of certainty, of finality.

Sobered by the outburst Thlassos silently set to read the last lays inside his mind. He saw the other write down numbers and symbols on a piece of parchment, numbers beget numbers followed by symbols in a truly meaningless manner yet the intensity of the other’s eyes was frightening enough he did not comment on the waste of time. Back in his own task he was finding little, the lays were not much more than what he could read. No message popped up, no sign, no clue.

He spoke up after a long silence, the parchment was black with numbers by then, “I can’t find any clue. I’ve found allegories, metaphors but nothing that tells me something useful to you. I was able to piece together some notion of the history embedded in the text but nothing useful. I’m sorry.” He truly was, he had thought his mind would make a leap without the proper context and knowledge of what to seek.

“Don’t be, I’m as clueless as you are. All my reading, all my equations have led me nowhere. It may take another time to realize how it was hidden, a different perspective but I do not want to wait. I do not, I was once so sure the writer had hidden the information with a very thin veil. I did not think he meant to hide it more than he wished to publish it in a way that would escape notice until one stopped to read closely but I seem to be wrong…what? What is it?” The voice became quick at then end when he noticed Thalassos’s eyes widen very slightly, something he did subconsciously when mentally reading an important passage.

Thalassos had been listening in a silent resignation when he heard that the information was perhaps not truly hidden. The Tap had been shattered at the end of the war so it was likely the information on how to find whatever there was to be found would be at the end of the pertinent lay. He recalled the lay the other had recited, The Tempest was its title. He reread it once more emphasizing the end and found a stanza that had not been spoken. One he had originally figured to be a non-literal metaphor.

He read it aloud rendering it into the more contemporary tongue as in the original it was difficult to grasp the meaning being filled with vague wording and usage which had required some effort to disentangle,

“Naught now remains to speak
Nor can any there still be
All and nothing no more are vying
The tempest is now done” That was it! He knew it was so even if he couldn’t explain why, the passage had lit up in his mental library as if highlighted by an unseen hand. More than that he could viscerally feel it.

“Thalassos! Yes, I had never noticed how glaring it was until you demystified the language,” the voice was alive, the mad fervor banished and replaced with hope. He then uttered a prayer in Raieran elvish before he continued, “That which holds the answer lies within the place that holds no one.”

“Sir, there are plenty such places…” Thalassos said dispiritedly, he had truly thought the other had found the answer to this puzzle, he hated not being able to solve a puzzle and this was his biggest challenge so far. He had been so sure too.

“I sometimes forget, all the books in the world are useless without context and knowledge of who wrote them. This was written in the style of the mythical Eadir, a race of magic, a race where magic made a person who they were and fully determined them. All legends and myths describe them as a people unwilling to see the Nothings, the people who were born void of the gift of magic. Don’t you see? We must go to the place with no magic. We must go to the Kingdom of Ead’Nith,” the excited voice continued unaware of the impact the words would have.

[Horizon's End]

The light was blinding, where was he? Yes, the library. The comfortable chair, the comforting aroma, the sight of bookshelves. He awoke to the normal which was why it took another second for him to remember that which was not. Sure enough the old man was engrossed in his writing a little to his left unaware his companion had awoken. It was too unreal for the young Salvian, this was fate, this was how epics began, this was how heroes were born!

“Ah, Thalassos, you’re up. I can’t say I wasn’t worried, you just…collapsed. Perhaps it has been too much excitement for one night, rest would certainly be good, yes?” he voiced with what sounded like sincere concern, a thread of sleepiness was there as well, Thalassos did not know how long he had lain asleep.

“I doubt I could fall asleep right now, sir. You can sleep in my room, though, if you wish. I…I have to do something. Sir…,” he was hesitant to continue, “Sir? Would it truly be alright for me to accompany you?” Yes, he thought, yes, please let me hear a yes.

“Well, I think you’ve earned it. If you don’t want to, however…” he said trailing off.

“No! I mean yes! I do want to sir, even if I can never more than graze it to see the Tap would be enough for me,” Thalassos lied, it would fill the hole but not nearly enough.

“Young man, you continue to surprise me, for having read so much how is it you think you cannot truly tap the Tap? Why many of the greatest wizards of old were born without a shred of skill and worked to become who they became. If anything I believe that you are better off without that initial spark.” There was actual surprise in his voice, for him it must have been the most self-evident of truths.

“There’s no need to lie, sir.” Thalassos said somewhat dejectedly, it was a ridiculous assertion logically. Mages were born, not made, everyone knew that.

With a somewhat less hearty chuckle than his usual laughs the other answered with increasing fervor, “It is no lie, Thalassos. The greatest mages usually strive for power even if they could call on it at will, yes? They attain their peak after shedding their incomplete dominance, think for a second on the vast majority of mages you’ve read about. What could they do? Throw a fireball, maybe something more advanced like manipulate an element. Now think of the great mages, they don’t call on named spells or on rote castings, they manipulate magic and reality itself to achieve what they wish. Their power is limitless in terms of possibilities.

“Why do you think this is? Because they work with the source, whatever it may be and not with what they know. They aren’t drained in a predetermined manner, their spells are as malleable as their creativity and their knowledge of the material they are working with. Just think before the Tap was shattered what works were wrought, the raw power at their disposal meant it was worth it to learn, to experiment. Now? Now the world of magic has been tempered since all we can reach are pools of magic rather than an endless ocean. This is why no innate knowledge works for you, you need shed no preconceived notions of what can and cannot be, of how to handle the stream, more than that you’ll be conscious of what you are actually doing and thus be in total control. Magic is not magical, Thalassos, it can be understood.”

With rapt attention did Thalassos listen until the end, the sentence he heard echoed through his mind only to find a reference to a text on the nature of magic. He had not read more than the introduction as a client had asked for it when she saw it being read but it was enough for the other pieces to come together.

“You…you are Salyn aren’t you?” was his useless question, he knew the answer already.

“Well, well, I seem to continually underestimate your memory. I know I shouldn’t quote myself, it’s so self-congratulatory but sometimes I can’t resist. It’s a mental game I like to play. I didn’t expect you to catch that given your previous ideas, though, that book did give a thorough run-through of the ideas I just said,” Salyn mused, the last few words seemed mumbled as if for himself.

“I never finished it.” Thalassos interjected very promptly, he was overawed, not only was this man his elder but he was many elves’ elder as well. Salyn was the main author of the fateful book he had been reading earlier tonight, he realized, it was still the same day and that very book was old, very old. A quick run through of the texts in his mental library revealed the oldest book he knew to be over two thousand years old. Salyn Nessus was a legend to a book-worm, a prolific writer of unparalleled pedigree.

“That explains a lot,” the author said nodding to himself, “but about that bed…? It truly has been a long night.”

Thalassos swallowed. Hard. The Salyn Nessus would sleep on his bed, this was a night of fulfilled dreams after a year of false hopes. He moved slowly still not believing this night, it was too much, too coincidental but so good he dared not question it. He walked to the back and opened the little room he had taken as his own, he was horrified to see it was filled with open books on every conceivable subject, what would Salyn think? but besides that it was neat. The wooden bed was well made and the walls had only a few adornments, mostly maps from different epochs of the world and of Salvar. Quickly clearing his bed he motioned towards it.

Sighing with contentment Salyn graciously nodded and profusely thanked him though Thalassos was rightly mortified a legend would do such a thing, he was nobody and so deflected the compliments the soon sleeping man kept lobbing at him. He left quietly and headed for the main entrance, exiting he breathed in the crisp, cool air and realized how much he had needed it. He leaned against the threshold slipping down until he was seated on the ground, all the while breathing slowly to calm himself.

Looking up he saw a beautiful clear sky, stars shining, the sun a distant memory. This far out from the center the city was quiet save for the comforting swishing of the wind, he closed his eyes letting his body relax. He still needed to do something but no longer was he anxious or overawed, he was Thalassos and nothing more. Standing up slowly he gazed outside once more before closing the smooth oaken door, inside the cool breeze lingered for a few moments while he walked through the aisles until he came to the book he sought.

On the Nature of Magic

[Horizon's End]

He breezed through the pages barely, but carefully, scanning the words to his memory. Transmutation, divination, evocation, necromancy, they were all explained. Not like Radzin’s Spellcrafting which did so obtusely and incomprehensibly to the non-initiate but using analogies and a clever exposition of the arguments. The beauty, Thalassos found, was that the book did not stop there, the theory behind each stream of magic was delved into, even the theory of magic as a whole!


…the core of magic, its very essence is not an abstract quality of ‘magical power’, it is not an absurd fantasy where children scream out their spell’s name and make it come to life, so what is it? Knowledge. Knowledge lies at the crux of every spell, knowledge of oneself, knowledge of the target, knowledge of the spell. Even Words of Power lie under this category for some people since they are often what is called a ‘true name invocation’ though these tend to be fairly high level spells which will be discussed later on. For many, however, words accompanying a spell continue to be used as crutches for an instinctual manipulation of magic due to custom and tradition. In magic, knowledge is power, it is a wizard’s aid and lifeblood. Stories tell of powerful wizards old and wise not because age brings power but because it brings knowledge. …There are many other attributes associated with magic but at their heart lies always knowledge.

He did not know what it was like for other people but the passage made his skin crawl, he was giddy, unbelieving yet fully aware of its veracity. He wanted to try immediately, and of course did so to no avail. Its accessibility notwithstanding the book assumed a previous, if tenuous, control over some form of magic, nowhere did it elucidate a mechanism to create this association. That was, again of course, not his only problem since there were strings, equations, embedded throughout the text which he deduced worked as some arcane reference system which were filled with numbers and letters which were in turn equated to a definition.

He skipped them, as any sane man would, as they were useless. Numbers were quantities, he knew they could be added and subtracted and a vague multiplication but never were these operation done outside word problems which left Thalassos utterly unaware of the significance locked within. He began to realize this when the text referred back to them and through the references which assumed familiarity with their nature began to unveil that very thing. He realized they hid the exact way in which the magics describe needed to be handled to avoid problems or maximize the spells, even how to create and use the spells. It was then he realized it was a code to protect the information, a cipher known to mages and wizards. Realizing his defeat his heart sunk but he read on, most of the book was reasonably comprehensible even if the more complex ideas were too abstract for him yet.

“You haven’t slept yet, have you?” he heard a tired voice call out from the general direction of his room, “I remember the fires of youth but, Thalassos, even the young and invulnerable need sleep. I don’t know if I can condone being unconscious as a substitute for sleep.”

Thalassos had no idea how to properly respond so he remained quiet, his face taking on a guilty look.

“Ah, you’ve read it. There’re so many things I would change now but I don’t have time to write a revision. Maybe some day you’ll be able to help me.” The voice was much closer and less tired.

Thalassos chuckled nervously, “I don’t think I would ever be able to learn as much as you have, sir,” he rambled on past Salyn’s attempt to make Thalassos call him that, “sir, besides that I can’t even make sense of this cipher so I doubt I would be much help.”

“What cipher…?” Salyn questioned and as the younger pointed to an equation he let out one of his trademark laughs, “Boy! That’s no code, that’s Math.” The old man was amused beyond belief though he did grumble something cursing the education people received today.

“Math? Sir, I know my Maths, but this, this is not Math. Math is word problems with workers and houses, with fences and pastures…”

“True,” was the inevitable interjection, “that is a part of it but that would be like saying swordmaking is making sharp metal, no, it would be like saying a basic and too-simple book holds the essence of Literature. Math, like Literature, is filled with a depth few can imagine, it is as, if not, more imaginative and infinitely powerful. It can model any system that follows some logic and lets us see that seemingly chaotic and random events like the growth of a city fall easily within a single sentence written in its language.” The fire only grew as he continued, “In it lies the key to the strongest magics, magic is not unexplainable and subject to whims and follies, it is innately logical which allows it to be described beautifully and powerfully in few words. Surely the mages in the stories do nothing of this sort, you may be thinking,” Thalassos was, “but these are the new mages. The ones who come into power naturally. What do you think the many books in the old wizards’ studies hold? Pretty words and babbling? New mages can’t really control their magic, old ones have learned to do so by trial and error. But wizards? Wizards don’t need to do this. They go underneath, to the source and experiment until they can abstract laws and rules.”

There was a kind of stunned silence in the room, one taking it in the other winded from his speech. It was hard to fathom the implications of it all yet it was also not so hard, it was ultimately learnable, it was instrumental in the wizard’s control of magic, it was something he could learn. By the logical connection…I can be a wizard, was all he thought. There was the slight issue of interfacing with the magic but he was sure that would not be a problem.

“How, how do I learn?” though, was all he could stammer.

“Well, I need to check some books in the more central libraries so I won’t be able to answer any questions for a couple of days. I can recommend a few excellent introductory texts, however, and knowing you that method is probably more effective than me teaching you.”

He desperately wanted to ask about his worry but dared not, that was the one flaw with the fulfillment of his dreams: nothing indicated the link was a possibility. All he managed was a nod, a rather pale nod the other didn’t notice in his rush to ready up, he was also writing something.

“I’ve written the best books I remember and the sections which are of particular interest to you, none of them save the last two have an explicit connection to magic. As far as I remember most books that do are written in Raiaeran with few translations coming out, there’s not many wizards in training these days, too many mages and sorcerors out there, the old knowledge gets lost.” Salyn looked ready to leave as he spoke somewhat wistfully. Was he alive for the War of the Tap? Thalassos wondered, it can’t be…that was not just millennia ago, it was ten thousand years! That would make him ancient.

“I will try, Salyn Nessus,” was his reply. I will try, he thought, though in his thoughts the reality of it began to hit him. This would be difficult, this would be something his siblings might be able to do, they were the geniuses, they were the gifted ones but could he? Thalassos would finally have the opportunity to do something no one in his city could do, that would definitely be something.

“I’m sure you will, Thalassos,” it was then the younger said his last name, “Thalassos Earessar, then. I’m sure you’ll find it delightfully challenging but ultimately easy.” This last sentence was delivered oddly, Thalassos could not exactly say what it was. “Well, I need to confirm some of the details in a few tomes I doubt you have here. I will see you soon.”

“Fare you well, friend,” was the boy’s formal reply. A legend deserved no less.

With that the writer of books, the magic user of unknown qualities left. The library felt empty, every sound seemed to echo. The list fluttered briefly with a breeze as the door open and shut signaling the true exit. Looking outside he saw the figure recede and he also noticed something else, daybreak. He laughed softly when he realized all of this had only been one night. No, he said to himself, this was much more than one night.

[Horizon's End]

The titles alone were enough to further the day’s euphoria. Differential Systems and Applications, A Complete Integral Calculus, the list went on and on each one more thrilling than the next, sadly, he realized he had to start by the first one: Introduction to Algebra. All the books were out and neatly stacked by the time he opened the first, of course, but already he had methodically scanned each index so he would be aware of the relationship concepts might hold. That’s what he rationalized, it had been slightly more perfunctory than that.

At first he had been a little sulky that Salyn had specifically warned him to start with that first one, it was obviously going to be meant for barely literate idiots but a few pages in he realized the man had probably just come as close he could to any sense of an introductory text. The things he was reading were complicated, where he had expected childishness and painful obviousness he found technical terms and obfuscating symbols. It was eerily like the texts on magic except replete with the parts he hadn’t understood. He would have benefited terribly, then, from a man with some grasp of the Math, Thalassos did not know how the basic syntax of an equation worked or how the symbols acted which was not to say he did not know the concepts behind the simpler ones.

The biggest problem was that most of the explanations where about abstract variables, ‘x’s of unknown quantity or quality which further complicated his problems. He was beginning to think Salyn had simply assumed he knew the symbolic basis for it to some degree but, he thought somewhat irritated now, that is obviously not the case. He was making some headway, however, after arduous concentration; in the first few pages where the author had gone over some of the obvious properties of what he would deal with Thalassos was able to correctly intuit the meanings of the addition, subtraction, and equality sign. Through the captions above the equations he had been to puzzle out those symbols as, luckily, simple numbers were still being used, no odd symbols or letters.

Making further progress was difficulties in the next pages where fractions, divisions and multiplication were very likewise briefly exposed their properties. This would prove to be a disproportionately harder challenge, unlike the previous he was much less informed about those concepts, about what they meant mathematically. Nowhere did the book have helpful cake diagrams being split to illustrate the concepts, groups of objects grouped by a certain number, nothing of that nature. He was making very little progress when to further his growing aggravation a foreign customer must have walked in and arrogantly assumed he spoke the common tongue. Fools, all of them, Thalassos thought only perhaps having some of his anger seep through.

He barely looked up, before a much more familiar accent asked what was likely the same question, “I was wondering if you knew of any historical works that might contain precedents of studies in the magical art of evocation, particularly in the realm of elements. Do you, perhaps, know of any tomes that delve into the organism behind such crafts? Any language will do.”

An actually interesting question. Thalassos’s mood was lifted ever so slightly by a distraction he actually cared about. Further the accent had been eerily “normal” to him but as he rummaged through tomes which might be of aid to the man such thoughts became only tangential and irrelevant.

“Among those of magic’s theory alone I daresay you know Radzin, sir, no history there.” His eyes wandered upwards as he spoke, “Some of Salyn Nessus’s books intertwine the history of old with the theory new very well. I recall a reference to a meticulous history of magi and wizards alongside their accomplishments in Rámaómaryo’s work, written in Raiaeran. We have one of his tomes, it deals mostly with invocation though the elements are figured prominently. Maybe an Alerian satire on the uselessness if magic, it has various instances of evocation of the elements, each put in a derogatory light but I doubt this one has enough detail…” Thalassos’s voiced trailed off as something else came back, something which wasn’t in the mental library. The man was very average yet something about him bothered the young librarian.

“I do recall a fellow librarian mention a book he was reading. It was a treatise by a Salvic author translated to Tradespeak, he raved about it for the week he read it. Most of it seemed to be a comparison between the histories of evocation and conjuration in the wizard’s repertoire. I tried to read some but my Tradespeak is sorely lacking. Anything sound interesting? As always the more detailed the query, the more pertinent the result.”

His eyes widened in that way they did when he realized how unwound he was, the almost right accent had brought him home. The Kingdom of Ead’Nith. Knife’s Edge. But, no, home would always be that walled city, a feeling as unchanging as the city itself.

A somewhat surprised thank you followed but Algebra had again ensnared his attention. Progress was slow. Fractions, division and multiplication became clear eventually and he did not find it odd to extend these concepts to long division and modulus, or remainder, operations nor would he have guessed the difficulties some experienced with them. Positive integer exponents he reasoned out quickly, whereas the negative and fractional ones he found hard to grasp but they became clear after a surprisingly long half hour.

They had been particularly difficult as he had had to intuit their meaning through examples and proofs for other properties and theorems. They became clear when he noted the basic properties of exponents, when to add and subtract them. To any man watching him learn would have been surprising, yet Thalassos believed himself a slow learner in this regard not yet having grasped the difficulties most had with these concepts. Funnily enough Thalassos thought up logarithms as an extension of exponents before he came across them. It was then he hit a major block when trying to understand certain equations which contained symbols and it was then the customer came back.

“Thank you, sir, this looks like exactly what I was searching for.” The man paused briefly, before stopping the next word in its track and saying something obviously different, chuckling slightly before speaking, “Variables, odd choice of reading, I figured them out when I pictured an imaginary 'x' being there after every basic math equation I had learned so far.”

Thalssos looked at the man's, now turned, head quizzically but not very intently. He finished breezing through the book as variable went from intractable to trivial, practically nothing else was useful; it was all theorems and proofs which to him followed logically from the base. Who couldn't see that the logarithm of a product was the sum of the logarithms? Thalassos certainly could and caught up in the moment he couldn't imagine others did not. Solving second order equations was slightly tricky, he thoroughly enjoyed the section outlining the proof and with that knowledge he basically came up with a formula to determine third order equations, and an outline for the case of a fourth power.

For the quintic equation Thalassos made no progress. Little did he know how much more he would have to learn before he realized why such a formula was not hard to find and complicated but simply didn't exist. But, by that time it was late. He looked around and noticed the man was still there. Looking at him. No, Thalassos was just tired.

“Sir, I will be closing soon,” he said.

“Ah, sorry to bother, then. I will be back soon. Please try to remember other books, this has been very informative,” was the man's cheerful response.