Ymiden 45, Arc 720
In the evening of the 45th of Ymiden, the son of Ziell was sitting at the desk in his study, dressed in comparatively comfortable clothes, reading and working on his research, as he often did. He had finally finished writing his thesis – all there was left for him to do now was wait until the Academy had decided on a date for the defense of the aforementioned thesis – but there was already another matter that occupied his thoughts and begged to be put on paper.
A couple of trials earlier, he had made a blindfold with Balthazar Black’s blood. The magical effect would only be temporary, although the item could be recharged with more blood.
He couldn’t help but wonder why the effect was only temporary whereas items that had been made with reagents from natural sources, such as plants and animals, were permanent – and which factors influenced the duration. The power of the mage in question was without a doubt one of them. It made sense that an item imbued with a powerful mage’s blood lasted longer than something that a recent initiate had donated blood for.
What was the initial reason though? Why did items such as his blindfold need to be recharged? Was it because of the fact that the blood was not being replenished by the body any longer, because it was not fresh – and because it was not in contact with the spark any longer?
Were alchemical items similar to transmuted items in that regard? The items that he imbued with qualities never lasted either, although they deteriorated altogether rather than simply ceasing to function. Ether seemed to be, by its nature, fleeting – although he still struggled to define what ether was in the first place, apart from the cornerstone of all magic, that which had made the wonders that he had seen his mentor create possible in the first place.
Ether was the cornerstone of magic … he cast a glance at the book that he had been reading, a treatise on the arcane, for a moment before he began to take notes quite furiously, almost feverishly in fact, as the thoughts kept on coming, filling the piece of parchment in front of him from top to bottom with his handwriting, as if he were worried that he would run out of space. A few moments later, he grabbed another piece of parchment and continued to write, briefly switching to Cursive, accidentally, and only noticing what had happened when he realized that he didn’t know the correct signs for what he wanted to write.
Ether was the cornerstone of magic … but who had created that cornerstone of magic, and why could he not find anything about it in the Prime Atheneum? Where exactly did magic come from, where did ether come from, who had made ether, were the domains limited in number, or was it possible that there were more than the few domains that were being studied at the Academy? Did his aunt, the Lady Yvithia, know more about it?
As a scientist, the fact that there was so much about magic that people just took for granted bothered him. It wasn’t enough for him to know that magic worked (although being able to use magic was such an amazing thing; magic had changed his life for the better in every single aspect), he wanted to know why it worked. He wished to get to the bottom of things, to analyze, to categorize, to structure, although a part of him was not sure if magic could be categorized and structured, apart form in a very superficial way (the aforementioned domains).
He set his quill down quite abruptly and rubbed his forehead as he could feel the beginnings of a headache and was, perhaps, somewhat frustrated before he glanced at his hand that was still his hand, but different. The strange markings, crimson, like the witchmark that he had received upon his initiation, had begun to spread. He had reached another step in his magical evolution, but was there more to it than met the eye? Why did his Awakenings look like this while his mentor had wings and a halo? Why were no two etherists the same, even though they used the same or similar techniques?
Why were sparks different?
In the evening of the 45th of Ymiden, the son of Ziell was sitting at the desk in his study, dressed in comparatively comfortable clothes, reading and working on his research, as he often did. He had finally finished writing his thesis – all there was left for him to do now was wait until the Academy had decided on a date for the defense of the aforementioned thesis – but there was already another matter that occupied his thoughts and begged to be put on paper.
A couple of trials earlier, he had made a blindfold with Balthazar Black’s blood. The magical effect would only be temporary, although the item could be recharged with more blood.
He couldn’t help but wonder why the effect was only temporary whereas items that had been made with reagents from natural sources, such as plants and animals, were permanent – and which factors influenced the duration. The power of the mage in question was without a doubt one of them. It made sense that an item imbued with a powerful mage’s blood lasted longer than something that a recent initiate had donated blood for.
What was the initial reason though? Why did items such as his blindfold need to be recharged? Was it because of the fact that the blood was not being replenished by the body any longer, because it was not fresh – and because it was not in contact with the spark any longer?
Were alchemical items similar to transmuted items in that regard? The items that he imbued with qualities never lasted either, although they deteriorated altogether rather than simply ceasing to function. Ether seemed to be, by its nature, fleeting – although he still struggled to define what ether was in the first place, apart from the cornerstone of all magic, that which had made the wonders that he had seen his mentor create possible in the first place.
Ether was the cornerstone of magic … he cast a glance at the book that he had been reading, a treatise on the arcane, for a moment before he began to take notes quite furiously, almost feverishly in fact, as the thoughts kept on coming, filling the piece of parchment in front of him from top to bottom with his handwriting, as if he were worried that he would run out of space. A few moments later, he grabbed another piece of parchment and continued to write, briefly switching to Cursive, accidentally, and only noticing what had happened when he realized that he didn’t know the correct signs for what he wanted to write.
Ether was the cornerstone of magic … but who had created that cornerstone of magic, and why could he not find anything about it in the Prime Atheneum? Where exactly did magic come from, where did ether come from, who had made ether, were the domains limited in number, or was it possible that there were more than the few domains that were being studied at the Academy? Did his aunt, the Lady Yvithia, know more about it?
As a scientist, the fact that there was so much about magic that people just took for granted bothered him. It wasn’t enough for him to know that magic worked (although being able to use magic was such an amazing thing; magic had changed his life for the better in every single aspect), he wanted to know why it worked. He wished to get to the bottom of things, to analyze, to categorize, to structure, although a part of him was not sure if magic could be categorized and structured, apart form in a very superficial way (the aforementioned domains).
He set his quill down quite abruptly and rubbed his forehead as he could feel the beginnings of a headache and was, perhaps, somewhat frustrated before he glanced at his hand that was still his hand, but different. The strange markings, crimson, like the witchmark that he had received upon his initiation, had begun to spread. He had reached another step in his magical evolution, but was there more to it than met the eye? Why did his Awakenings look like this while his mentor had wings and a halo? Why were no two etherists the same, even though they used the same or similar techniques?
Why were sparks different?
