Practice of Magic: Alteration, Lesson Two

  •  

    It is easy to confuse Illusion and Alteration. Both schools of magic attempt to create what is not there. The difference is in the rules of nature. Illusion is not bound by them, while Alteration is. This may seem to indicate that Alteration is the weaker of the two, but this is not true. Alteration creates a reality that is recognized by everyone. Illusion's reality is only in the mind of the caster and the target.

     

    Why use Illusion at all then? If I'm understandin' this right, it is possible to change reality with the help of light and shadow to create illusions that can be perceived by everyone.

     

    To master Alteration, first accept that reality is a falsehood. There is no such thing. Our reality is a perception of greater forces impressed upon us for their amusement. Some say that these forces are the gods, other that they are something beyond the gods. For the wizard, it doesn't really matter. What matters is the appeal couched in a manner that cannot be denied. It must be insistent without being insulting.

     

    To cast Alteration spells is to convince a greater power that it will be easier to change reality as requested than to leave it alone. Do not assume that these forces are sentient. Our best guess is that they are like wind and water. Persistent but not thoughtful. Just like directing the wind or water, diversions are easier than outright resistance. Express the spell as a subtle change and it is more likely to be successful.

     

    This is what Grey was talkin' about. Greater forces. But...what does it precisely mean that reality is somethin' forced on us? Does it mean that reality isn't...real? That everythin' is basicaly a dream or somethin'?

     

    Grulmar lowered the book and sighed. Who would think that magic would be so full of bullshit? He then shook his head. Nah, that's not it. It's all about thinkin' about bullshit. Yeah, that's what it is. He looked at the another book lying on his bed and frowned. He was sitting on a chair a few steps from the bed, Reality and Other Falsehoods in his hands, then sighed. Practice makes a master. He laid the book on table and then extended his hand towards the book on the bed. His mind began searching through the streams, looking for the stream that was bearing the weight of whole world and when he found it, he reached in and out.

     

    The book from the bed lifted and he slowly, very slowly pulled it towards him. He felt the stream pushing back against him, the reality trying to go back into its normal state. When someone pushes you the initial reaction is to push back, but Grulmar already knew better. The less he struggled the less was the stream pushing back.

     

    Then suddenly he felt a wave of energy through all the streams at once and he felt how the stream raised against his hands and literally tossed him away. The book was pulled to him with much more strength and he had to jump from his chair to dodge it. It hit the wall and fell on the ground. He reached for it and looked at the crumpled pages. “Urag's so gonna rip my arm off and beat me to death with it,” he moaned. He got back on his feet. “And what the tusk was that?”

     

    He never felt anything like that. It was literally cracklin' with magicka. Surge of magicka? Maybe the tuskin' Thalmor cracked they Eye open? Blah. Don't stick yer nose into it, Grulmar. None of yer business. He couldn't deny he was curious but...sometimes it was better to be an ignorant. He sighed and opened the book with crumpled pages. Breathing Water. A heavy and thick book. Nothin' better than a thick book to keep ya busy. Grulmar took a deep breath and opened it. Here we go.

     

    He walked through the dry, crowded streets of Bal Fell, glad to be among so many strangers. In the wharfs of Vivec, he had no such anonymity. They knew him to be a smuggler, but here, he could be anyone. A lower-class peddler perhaps. A student even. Some people even pushed against him as he walked past as if to say, "We would not dream of being so rude as to acknowledge that you don't belong here."

     

    Seryne Relas was not in any of the taverns, but he knew she was somewhere, perhaps behind a tenement window or poking around in a dunghill for an exotic ingredient for some spell or another. He knew little of the ways of sorceresses, but that they always seemed to be doing something eccentric. Because of this prejudice, he nearly passed by the old Dunmer woman having a drink from a well. It was too prosaic, but he knew from the look of her that she was Seryne Relas, the great sorceress.

     

    What the tusk am I readin'? A bedtime story or somethin' like that? I expected and research book. Why does Urag even have this bullshit in his library?

     

    "I have gold for you," he said to her back. "If you will teach me the secret of breathing water."

     

    Secret of breathin' water. I should have known it's goin' to be about breathin' water. The title anyone? Why do I even bother...

     

    She turned around, a wide wet grin stretched across her weathered features. "I ain't breathing it, boy. I'm just having a drink."

     

    Ha! What a hag! Alright, ya have convinced me, I'll continue readin'.

     

    "Don't mock me," he said, stiffly. "Either you're Seryne Relas and you will teach me the spell of breathing water, or you aren't. Those are the only possibilities."

     

    "If you're going to learn to breathe water, you're going to have to learn there are more possibilities than that, boy. The School of Alteration is all about possibilities, changing patterns, making things be what they could be. Maybe I ain't Seryne Relas, but I can teach how to breathe water," she wiped her mouth dry. "Or maybe I am Seryne Relas and I won't. Or maybe even I can teach you to breathe water, but you can't learn."

     

    Possibilities, changin' patterns, makin' things be what they could be...

     

    "I'll learn," he said, simply.

     

    "Why don't you just buy yourself a spell of water breathing or a potion over at the Mages Guild?" she asked. "That's how it's generally done."

     

    "They're not powerful enough," he said. "I need to be underwater for a long time. I'm willing to pay whatever you ask, but I don't want any questions. I was told you could teach me."

     

    "What's your name, boy?"

     

    "That's a question," he replied. His name was Tharien Winloth, but in Vivec, they called him the Tollman. His job, such as it was, was collecting a percentage of the loot from the smugglers when they came into harbor to bring to his boss in the Camonna Tong. Of the value of that percentage, he earned another percentage. In the end it was very small indeed. He had scarcely any gold of his own, and what he had, he gave to Seryne Relas.

     

    Camonna Tong, eh? Interestin' story. But I still wonder why it's in the Alteration section of the College's library.

     

    The lessons began that very day. The sorceress brought her pupil, who she simply called "boy," out to a low sandbank along the sea.

     

    "I will teach you a powerful spell for breathing water," she said. "But you must become a master of it. As with all spells and all skills, the more you practice, the better you get. Even that ain't enough. To achieve true mastery, you must understand what it is you're doing. It ain't simply enough to perform a perfect thrust of a blade -- you must also know what you are doing and why."

     

    "That's common sense," said Tharien.

     

    "Yes, it is," said Seryne, closing her eyes. "But the spells of Alteration are all about uncommon sense. The infinite possibilities, breaking the sky, swallowing space, dancing with time, setting ice on fire, believing that the unreal may become real. You must learn the rules of the cosmos and then break them."

     

    Well, this makes perfect sense. Settin' ice on fire my arse. Didn't Reality and Other Falsehoods just say that Alteration is bound by nature's rules? And what am I supposed to believe now?

     

    Alright. So when I use Telekinesis, lifting an object that shouldn't be lifted on its own, what am I doin'? Breakin' the rules of nature or followin' them? The object won't lift itself on its own, but it can be lifted by someone. Is it bypassin' the rules then? If reality isn't real, it can be changed, but maybe the point is that it can be changed only to certain degree. Can I make everythin' fly? Remove air? No, I can't. Right?

     

    "That sounds ... very difficult," replied Tharien, trying to keep a straight face.

     

    Seryne pointed to the small silver fish darting along the water's edge: "They don't find it so. They breathe water just fine."

     

    "But that's not magic."

     

    "What I'm saying to you, boy, is that it is."

     

    For several weeks, Seryne drilled her student, and the more he understood about what he was doing and the more he practiced, the longer he could breathe underwater. When he found that he could cast the spell for as long as he needed, he thanked the sorceress and bade her farewell.

     

    "There is one last lesson I have to teach you," she said. "You must learn that desire is not enough. The world will end your spell no matter how good you are, and no matter how much you want it."

     

    Reality pushin' back. I know that very well.

     

    "That's a lesson I'm happy not to learn," he said, and left at once for the short journey back to Vivec.

     

    The wharfs were much the same, with all the same smells, the same sounds, and the same characters. His boss had found a new Tollman, he learned from his mates. They were still looking out for the smuggler ship Morodrung, but they had given up hope of ever seeing it. Tharien knew they would not. He had seen it sink from the wharf a long time ago.

     

    On a moonless night, he cast his spell and dove into the thrashing purple waves. He kept his mind on the world of possibilities, that books could sing, that green was blue, that that water was air, that every stroke and kick brought him closer to a sunken ship filled with treasure. He felt magicka surge all around him as he pushed his way deeper down. Ahead he saw a ghostly shadow of the Morodrung, its mast billowing in a wind of deep water currents. He also felt his spell begin to fade. He could break reality long enough to breathe water all the way back up to the surface, but not enough to reach the ship.

     

    The next night, he dove again, and this time, the spell was stronger. He could see the vessel in detail, clouded over and dusted in sediment. The wound in its hull where it had struck the reef. A glint of gold beckoning from within. But still he felt reality closing in, and he had to surface.

     

    The third night, he made it into the steerage, past the bloated corpses of the sailors, nibbled and picked apart by fish. Their glassy eyes bulging, their mouths stretched open. Had they only known the spell, he thought briefly, but his mind was more occupied by the gold scattered along the floor, the boxes that contained them shattered. He considered scooping as much he could carry into his pockets, but a sturdy iron box seemed to bespeak more treasures.

     

    On the wall was a row of keys. He took each down and tried it on the locked box, but none opened it. One key, however, was missing. Thalien looked around the room. Where could it be? His eyes went to the corpse of one of the sailors, floating in a dance of death not far from the box, his hands tightly clutching something. It was a key. When the ship had begun to sink, this sailor had evidently gone for the iron box. Whatever was in it had to be very valuable.

     

    Thalien took the sailor's key and opened the box. It was filled with broken glass. He rummaged around until he felt something solid, and pulled out two flasks of some kind of wine. He smiled as he considered the foolishness of the poor alcoholic. This was what was important to the sailor, out of all the treasure in the Morodrung.

     

    Then, suddenly, Thalien Winloth felt reality.

     

    Bungler...

     

    He had not been paying attention to the grim, tireless advance of the world on his spell. It was fading away, his ability to breathe water. There was no time to surface. There was no time to do anything. As he sucked in, his lungs filled with cold, briny water.

     

    A few days later, the smugglers working on the wharf came upon the drowned body of the former Tollman. Finding a body in the water in Vivec was not in itself noteworthy, but the subject that they discussed over many bottles of flin was how did it happen that he drowned with two potions of water breathing in his hands.

     

    And here's a moral lesson, kids. Don't be stupid, don't drown.

     

    He sighed and set the book aside. While he didn't want to admit it, the story was quite engaging, but it raised more questions. Reality seemed as both real and unreal, being something that can be changed if one’s will is strong enough, but never changed permanently. Just as ya cheat someone to buy a Falmer Elixir from Brynjolf, that someone will realize it's bullshit and will want his money back eventually. That pretty much sums up the reality, right?

     

    Doors were suddenly flung open and Athis ran into the room. He looked at Grulmar with his eyes wide open. “Why are you sitting here? Haven’t you heard?” he panted. “There's a Psijic Monk in College.”

     

    Grulmar looked at him and frowned. “And that's why ya are breathin' like a fat dog after eatin' a bowl of intestines? Seriously, who gives a shit about some Psijic Monk?”

     

    “Psijic Monk?” Grulmar heard Tofdir's voice from the hall. “The surge of Magicka...that had to be the monk. Where is he? This is a once in a lifetime's chance to exchange knowledge. Where is he?”

     

    “In the Arch-mage's quarters. They sent for Urag because the monk wants to speak with him apparently,” Athis explained and significantly looked at Grulmar who rolled his eyes.

     

    “Alright, so someone gives a shit. Let's go take a look at the monk then.” He followed Athis and others into Hall of Elements where they stood in front of the staircase that was leading down from the Arch-mage's quarters.

     

    Grulmar looked at the Thalmor soldiers standing in front of the gate, guarding the entrance to the Eye and he noticed they were kind of nervous. He poked Athis and pointed at them. “Looks like they're not as happy as ya are about the monk. Where's our royal Majesty anyway?”

     

    Then there was a commotion on the stairs and Grulmar heard Ancano's voice. “I demand you to tell me what the monk told you. I felt magic, he somehow concealed your conversation.”

     

    “Go tusk yourself,” Urag gru-Shub replied and then he showed up on the stairs, stopping to take a look at all of them. “What are you all doing here?”

     

    “Waiting for the Psijic Monk,” Tolfird answered. “Where is he?”

     

    “Don't bother. Already gone,” Urag shrugged and kept pushing his way between them.

     

    “I'm not done talking with you, Orc!” shouted Ancano and Grulmar chuckled when his voice went little bit high, to a point where he sounded almost like a girl.

     

    “But I'm tusking done talking to you, idiot,” Urag growled over his shoulder. “Go wank your dick over that levitating ball over there.” He slammed the door shut behind him and Grulmar looked at Ancano's red face full of anger and laughed out loud. Ancano looked at him and the Orc shut up, putting a serious look on his face and bowed his head.

     

    “Yer Majesty.”

     

    Ancano growled in response and headed back to the Arch-mage's quarters. Wank yer dick over that levitatin' ball over there. Haha, good line, Broody.



    Sources used in this Lesson: Reality and Other Falsehoods, Breathing Water

     

     

Comments

7 Comments   |   A-Pocky-Hah! and 9 others like this.
  • Caladran
    Caladran   ·  December 1, 2017
    Omg, Urag's last line was hella funny! XD
  • Caedrus
    Caedrus   ·  June 17, 2017
    I've been reading this for inspiration and I gotta say it's pretty good. You reminded me that there's a lot of ways to accomplish things with magic which I often forget. I like the main character so far too. Something occurred to me with all this talk of ...  more
  • The Sunflower Manual
    The Sunflower Manual   ·  January 9, 2017
    Agh, Grulmar. Of all the things to practice on, you used one of Urag's books?
  • Paws
    Paws   ·  January 5, 2017
    Wanking dicks, levitating balls, and lot's of tuskin' bedtime readin'!
    "While he didn't want to admit it, the story was quite engaging"
    Just about sums up all TES books :D
  • A-Pocky-Hah!
    A-Pocky-Hah!   ·  January 4, 2017
    Grumpy Orc is grumpy... 
    • The Long-Chapper
      The Long-Chapper
      A-Pocky-Hah!
      A-Pocky-Hah!
      A-Pocky-Hah!
      Grumpy Orc is grumpy... 
        ·  January 4, 2017
      He my favorite. I am all smiles when Urag appears. And Ancano sounding like a girl! YES!


      And that book is pretty awesome. I like how you weave Grulmar's commentary into the text. 
    • Karver the Lorc
      Karver the Lorc
      A-Pocky-Hah!
      A-Pocky-Hah!
      A-Pocky-Hah!
      Grumpy Orc is grumpy... 
        ·  January 4, 2017
      Urag doesn´t tusk around :D