Magic's Essence: Letters and Words
Even with Luna and Kara's duel confirmed, classes continued as scheduled. If the first lesson had been Marlboro's basic combat theory, the second was Godin's magic theory class.
As the name implied, magic theory was purely theoretical—no practical exercises. Those were probably held separately in the afternoon.
"To use magic, remember just this: it begins with 'letters' and ends with 'speech.' A staff is merely a tool to condense mana. Our language is the essence of magic itself."
Godin explained it so simply that even I, a complete novice to magic, could follow along. Actual spells didn't deviate from his framework. It wasn't complicated like in other stories—just write the precise letters and pronounce them correctly, and it worked.
"Put even more simply, letters are the firewood, and speech is the flint. Lack either one, and you can't ignite the spell."
"Professor, there's a common tongue, but each nation has its own language. Does that matter?"
One student raised a hand with a sharp question. This world had a common language for convenience, but each country spoke differently. The common tongue stemmed from the United Academy.
"Excellent question. In short, no, it doesn't. Even if the letters and language differ, the root is the same. The power and form may vary, but the essence doesn't. Calling fire in another language still summons fire, right?"
"I understand. So, illiterates can't use magic?"
"Well······"
Godin made a peculiar sound and closed his mouth, subtly glancing my way. His squinted eyes made it hard to pinpoint, but it was definitely at me. I couldn't read or speak, so I was a perfect example.
Calling me out, huh?
In this world, illiteracy wasn't treated kindly. Language tied to magic because the gods made it so—for easier defense against demons. They fused the alpha and omega of civilization, 'language,' into magic. So they tried to fix illiteracy, but mutes were especially shunned. Some even said outright they were cursed by the gods and to stay away. Priests sometimes inflicted 'silence' as punishment.
If that's the case, maybe that's why I lost my language.
I must've insulted the gods one too many times. Not certain, though. Living on instinct, always on edge, I hadn't dwelled on it.
"······Even if one is lacking, it's fine. There are ways to compensate."
Godin, who'd been watching me, cleared his throat and explained quietly. Thanks to technological advances, even illiterates could cast if they could speak.
"But if both are issues, it's practically impossible. Especially if you can write but not speak—that's the worst."
That was my problem. Everything else was fine, but no speech meant no dice. That's why I was working on language. I needed Godin's future defensive spell too, but illiteracy would block that.
"Human language holds infinite potential. It's shaped civilization from the start until now."
Sensing the sensitive topic, Godin swiftly changed subjects. This world's magic was unique: letters plus speech triggered it. But you couldn't just spam it. Beyond basics, mages had to invent combinations.
There was a fun trial-and-error to it.
For example, basic fire was easy. But to shape it or make it offensive? Specific formulas needed.
What was the Hell Fire combo again? Can't remember.
Easier analogy: those AI art generators that blew up. Add descriptors till you get a good result, name it, and train it. Eventually, just the name works. With countless languages and personal styles, it was endless and complex.
Mages needed mics back then.
Voice recognition was key, so many used mics. Stutter or slip, and you're done. No mic? Casting slowed way down, so it was semi-mandatory.
"Professor, is using another nation's language less efficient?"
"Of course. While we're on it, there's a common misconception: that you master your native tongue. Westerners?"
About half raised hands, Luna included. Kara watched, then stayed put. Tatar was new, unclear if Western or Eastern.
"For those with hands up: give words meaning 'to see' or similar."
"Glance?"
"Yes, like that. Next?"
They hesitated at first, then chimed in. Luna said 'behold.' Words poured out; Godin wrote them on the board. Nobles added more.
"Done?"
"··· ···"
"Seems so. Impressive. So many synonyms already. But is that all?"
Godin added more: gaze, skim, glare, stare, admire, look down. He translated Eastern terms into common tongue for clarity.
Remembering all that? Impressive.
"See? Even your native tongue has depths you don't know."
"Oh······"
"Key point: they differ in nuance but stay within 'see.' Magic's the same—center on the essence, add flesh. That's magic's start and end."
Crucial explanation. No spell strayed from it. Big spells failed when mages ignored the frame—like making the belly bigger than the bag.
"Class is wrapping up. That's it for today. Questions?"
Swoosh—Luna raised her hand instantly. Godin beamed and pointed.
"Luna, what's your question?"
"It sounds like anyone can use magic."
"Exactly. Magic's for everyone."
"So even warriors should learn basics?"
"Hmm······"
Godin pondered. Tricky one—players debated it endlessly. Learn magic as non-mage, or specialize? No consensus; play your style. Dig one well deep for mastery, but Soul World cleared any way. Timing mattered more than raw skill.
"No firm answer, but basic literacy helps."
"Thank you."
"Anyone else?"
Swoosh—Kara, beside Luna, raised hers. Godin looked puzzled, then pointed.
"You? What's up?"
"Can magic defy heaven's laws?"
"Heaven...?"
Godin faltered; the room chilled. Sensitive topic. Whispers erupted.
"What'd she say? Defy heaven?"
"Don't Tatars worship Gulrak?"
"Why ask that?"
'Defying heaven'—filial betrayal, rebellion, inverting gravity, resurrection. Ultimately, defying gods. Dangerous.
"Ahem."
Godin cleared his throat, then smiled.
"Not sure your intent, but human magic can't. Only colorless 'demons' who lost their hue."
"Demons?"
"Yes. Demons defy existence itself, ignoring heaven's laws easily."
"Hmm······"
Kara frowned, unsatisfied. But Godin continued smiling.
"Magic limited, though. Rarely, humans break laws too."
"Who?"
"Sword Saint, Lord Sherman. You know him?"
Familiar name. Kara blinked at the president's mention; her scowl vanished.
"His swordsmanship slices space. True story."
During the memorial tower climb—I reached the top, but a hand pulled me from above. Next, I was at the base. He'd linked spaces.
"They don't defy like demons. They comprehend and wield the laws."
"Can he explain it?"
Kara sounded excited; Luna eyed her oddly. Godin shook his head.
"Asked him—'instinct,' he said."
"Tch······"
Kara smacked her lips. As a warrior, she knew 'instinct's' subtlety.
"But even he doesn't defy heaven. He understands it. Please restrain from such acts."
Godin moved on. More questions, nothing major. Kara pondered, chin in hand.
Probably daddy issues.
Her father would watch the duel. Complicated bond—father can't express love, daughter takes it literally.
"You said chant the spell's name. Doesn't that tip off the enemy?"
"Veterans say no. Name known, effect unknown. Plus, distracts since mages support from rear."
Fakes too—shout big, do nothing. Frontline mages? Suicide.
"Class dismissed. Enjoy lunch."
Godin bowed; thunderous applause. Kara, lost in thought, startled—clapped awkwardly, still dazed. Kinda cute.
"Lunch where?"
Godin left; Elvin from the back asked us. Lunchtime.
Luna glanced at me, then him.
"Buffet. President said Sivar eats a ton."
"Buffet, huh······"
Elvin eyed me oddly. First met there. Hard to believe just a week ago. Strange fate.
"Fits. They treat adaptors as students. Did the president teach table manners?"
"······Probably?"
He did—don't eat off the floor or with hands. Oh, eat slow or choke. Wildman himself, manners were rough.
Buffet's the only way for my appetite anyway.
One bear hunt, one meal. Rarely stored.
"Food time?"
"Yeah."
"Mind if I join?"
"Sure."
Kara tagged along. Probably stick with Luna ongoing.
"Elvin, you?"
"Sorry, got stuff. Professor consult."
Doubtful. Just awkward with me and Kara. He hid it, but glances confirmed. One duel doesn't change hearts quick.
He'll warm up.
Elvin left; just us three: top student, barbarian, feral. Doomed combo. But it'd persist.
"Buffet for you too, Kara?"
"Usually."
"Suit your tastes? I don't know Tatar food."
"Like Eastern."
Tatar: desert, ancient Egypt vibe. Lean flavors over greasy.
They like sweets too.
Yeah, loved candy.
Kara eyed me—green eyes locked. Stared, then to Luna.
"Know what he likes? Eats anything?"
"President says no pickiness."
"Steal his mid-meal, does he snap?"
"··· ···"
Luna gave Kara a cold stare. Probably from the 'touch his temper' talk. Still childish.
"Ugh······ Pretend you didn't hear? Embarrassing."
Kara scratched her head sheepishly. Cute when self-aware.
Luna sighed meaningfully, resigned.
"······Try it. Curious myself. Proverb: don't poke even dogs at meals."
"Dogs are harmless."
"More reason not to. Sivar bites for real."
"Scary."
Come on, what do you take me for?
I'd spear it with a fork, not teeth······
A bit hurtful.