Practice of Magic: Destruction, Lesson Three

  • Transcribed by Anias Gael

     

    Dearest reader, the tome that you hold in your hand is a chronicle of pain, of torment, and of discovery. In these memoirs, I shall impart to you an autobiography of a foolish and failed attempt to achieve a great power. Walk with me as I break the bonds of propriety, throw off the restraints of the ancient laws of the arcane, and cast aside the bonds of magical ethics. For contained herein, you shall find the dying words of Vexis Velruan.

     

    Let it be known to you, loyal reader, that I remain until my dying moment, a student of Magicka. But no typical apprentice, am I. I am one who has forged a unique path to the deeper understanding of the mechanics of Magicka. Through the infliction of destruction magic upon my own flesh, I have accomplished more than any student before me has.

     

    Wait, ya what?! Grulmar blinked at the page several times and looked around the Arcaneum, as if he wanted to make sure he wasn’t crazy or something. Who of any sane mind would inflict Destruction spells on himself? I got burned and that was enough for me.

     

    It is by that folly that I come to you now, lucid as ever, fully alert in my faculties, and acutely cognizant of the sacrifices that I have made in my quest. I have long since lost the capacity to feel any physical sensation beyond absolute agony. I've become so accustomed to it, so detached from the feeling, that to me, pain is simply always there. You do not think of the air around you as a sensation, do you?

     

    Bullshit. Pain isn’t like air. Ya don’t feel air the same way as pain. Crazy bungler...

     

    How is it, you ask, that I came to be what I am? It began innocently enough. I was once a healer, one of the most promising students of the temple. Which one? It doesn't matter. I was eventually expelled. Fools. You see, we had a number of patients interred in our humble sanctuary who had been infected with the Red Fever. My attempts to use the magical arts to turn the disease on itself were less than successful in their early stages. For trying to find a cure, I was cast out.

     

    It was not long after my exile that I discovered the means to eradicate infection using the destructive energies of magicka. In my explorations of the school of Destruction I discovered that by pulling the elemental energies through my own body, I was able to increase the raw output of energy. From the experience of a lighting bolt surging through my own body, I was able to deepen my understanding of the raw forces of magicka.

     

    At first, the pain was bearable. I directed only a minor amount of the energy back in towards myself. I learned to couple the destruction with restorative energies. It helped to abate the damage done to my body, but did nothing to stop the pain itself.

     

    As my tolerance for the pain increased, I began to channel more and more through my own body. My understanding of Destruction outgrew my knowledge of Restoration. While it could still lessen the damage, it could not stop it. My skin became charred and blackened; it dried, flaked off, and cracked. I stunk of cooked meat. But I could not resist the draw of more and more energy.

     

    I became like a skooma fiend of the worst sort. I no longer used magic for any practical purpose. I simply sought out more and more energy -- I relished the pain. Anticipated the moment when the energy and the pain would wash over me as one, freezing my flesh, burning it beyond recognition. My skin became a network of scars, sores, lesions, and burns. But it was never enough. Never. I needed more. More pain. More power.

     

    This seems awfully like a skooma addiction, aye. I should know. But...is it the same? There is a difference between the sensual pleasure of Skooma, where everything floats away, and an endless agony of this power.

     

    Is power like this even worth it? He might not want to admit it, but there was something about it. The more power one had, the more he could control his fate, his destiny. Spit into the faces of gods and Daedra. But is it worth it to die a cripple for this power?

     

    I lost my sight. My eyes melted into boiling pools of vitreous humor so hot that they left streaks of blistered skin as they ran down my face like burning tears. My right hand froze solid and shattered into a thousand pieces, when I carelessly bashed it against a doorjamb in terror, once I realized what had happened. The bones of both my legs shattered outward like broken glass, shredding the flesh and muscle surrounding them.

     

    While this may sound like a fate of terrible consequence, my dearest reader, I can assure you that you will never know what it is to be a creature of flesh and bone like I have. You will never have the degree of knowledge of frailty of the flesh that I have grown to know. I achieved a level of understanding of Magicka beyond that of the grand masters of the guild, but that accomplishment pales in comparison to the grander discoveries that this experience has bestowed upon me.

     

    People like you think that pain is to be avoided. Hidden from. Feared. Through my suffering and the numbness that now robs me of the ability to feel it, I can say this to you: Pain is a simple factor of human existence. It affords us the opportunity to feel -- to appreciate the temporary shell that our spirits occupy. Pain is the greatest gift that the gods have ever given mortal man.

     

    And now, as I tell you this story by way of a scribe, I am a stump of a man, wrapped in seeping bandages, never to know pleasure again. Even still, I have but one message to impart to you: Embrace what you are.

     

    Glory to lord Sheogorath, for he has opened my eyes.

     

    Grulmar set the book aside and sighed. The author was clearly mad, there was no doubt about that and Grulmar could see this book being kept in the library as a reminder or warning to anyone stupid who would want to play with dangerous magic for his own gain. Yet...there was something about it. The Orc couldn’t get the prospect of promised power in exchange for his health out of his head. With power like that, with understanding of Magicka so deep...he could make a difference. Maybe.

     

    He shook his head, focusing on the other aspect he deduced from the book. It seems like there are more kinds of Magicka and this might be the proof of it. If I run out of Magicka, I have to wait until it regenerates and there’s nothin’ I can do to overcome that threshold. But what if there is a way? Everythin’ in this world is imbued with Magicka, but why can’t beasts, for example, use magic even when they have reserves?

     

    The answer was somewhere in the between. It was possible Magicka that was in every being’s body, that kept them alive, wasn’t the same Magicka that was consumed when mage was casting spells. What if it’s the soul that defines the ability to cast spells? Ya consume Magicka in yer soul and ya have to wait for it to replenish. But if he started using Magicka in his body…? Or Magicka from living things around?

     

    Suddenly he heard murmurs and the sound of footsteps and several College members then appeared from the steps, heading to the Arcaneum and Grulmar frowned. There was pretty much everyone, talking with each other and Grulmar saw Athis among them. He didn’t know he was back at the College again and waved at him. The Dunmer nodded and went to him.

     

    “Didn’t know ya got back, Ash,” Grulmar greeted him, still sitting in his chair. He was sitting at the corner of right side of library wall, near to Urag’s desk, and he motioned to a chair next to him. “Any news?”

     

    Athis took a seat and sneered. “I got back just few moments ago and got grabbed by Faralda. She’ll be having a speech on some important matter apparently. As for the news...pretty much the same shit.”

     

    “So dragons everywhere, Talon being still as dull as hollowed tree, Shiny being...Shiny,” Grulmar sneered.

     

    “Yeah,” Athis chuckled. “That pretty much sums it up.” His gaze then drifted to other people standing in front of Urag’s desk. “Here she is. So let’s hear it.”

     

    Faralda pushed her way in between the College members to Urag’s desk and stood behind it. She coughed to clear her throat and smiled at all of them - though when her gaze drifted to Grulmar there was a sneer, very hard to notice, but it was there. “Thank you all for coming,” she started. “I know you all are busy, but there is a matter I would like to talk about with you, so I ask you to bear with me for few moments. Alright, let’s get started then.” She cleared her throath again and straightened her back in perfect example of Altmeri formality.

     

    "It is no secret that both the Synod and the College of Whispers have recently made inquiries as to the status of our College here in Winterhold. At this time, there is no indication that either group is aware of the other's correspondence.”

     

    No secret? How is that I don’t know anythin’ then?

     

    “The College of Winterhold has thus far declined requests for direct meetings. This has been at the specific request of Arch-Mage Aren. Aren believed that although the initial communications were innocent enough, they were sent with a particular motive in mind. The Synod's harsh rules and draconian structure are maintained only by suppressing any opposition to their Council's policies. It is entirely possible that they look to our College here in Winterhold in order to find supporters for their organization.”

     

    “Likewise, the College of Whispers has long been driven by its desire to directly oppose the Synod. They focus on research banned by the Synod, such as Conjuration and Necromancy. The College of Whispers hopes to learn that our College also supports these avenues of research. Thus they may claim that the Synod is indeed a political minority in the Empire and should be treated as such. “

     

    “Our actual position and policies are irrelevant. No matter the facts of the response, it will certainly be twisted to suit the whims of either group. Indeed, it has been jokingly suggested that we send the exact same response to both, which each will warp into support for their side.”

     

    “At present, these two groups do little beyond attempting to gain the attention and favor of the Emperor. They appear to have little interest in real study and research for the sake of gaining knowledge. Arch-Mage Aren believes that their conflict poses a significant threat to the autonomy of our College, and I concur. Falling in with either would threaten to draw much unwanted attention to our College. If either group goes through less official channels and attempt to contact you directly, please refer them to the College's Master Wizard. Say as little as possible so as to avoid compromising our neutral position."

     

    There were murmurs between her colleagues and Grulmar sneered. Tuskin’ politics. I hate politics.

     

    “Thank you for your time,” Faralda nodded. “Take this into your consideration, please. You can go all back to your business now.” She then strolled towards Grulmar and Athis and he forced his face to remain like a stone mask, even though he suspected that winds of trouble were blowing his way.

     

    But to his surprise, she didn’t come to talk with him. “Good to see you back, Athis. We’ve sorely missed you here,” she said with formal smile and her eyes went to Grulmar, sending clear signals to get his arse out of there. A crooked smile crawled onto his face. He crossed his arms on his chest and leaned back in the chair comfortably.

     

    “I doubt that the College would crumble without me,” the Dunmer rubbed his neck. “But I’m glad that I am so desirable.”

     

    Grulmar was trying to supress a chuckle, but his eyes most likely gave him away when Faralda shot him a look. Oh, this is priceless. Ash and Pigtails. At least ya will have somethin’ to hold on to, Ash. Hahahaha!



    Faralda’s cheeks turned a little red and Grulmar was outrightly grinning by then. She straightened her back and smiled. “I’m about to have a lesson about Runes in few moments. Maybe you would like to join?”

     

    Before Athis could answer, Grulmar dropped his act and straightened. “Wait? Lesson about runes? How is it I don’t know about it?”

     

    “I will be more than happy to join you,” said Athis and Faralda nodded, shooting Grulmar a look and then walking away.

     

    “Seriously, why I’m always the last one to know about this shit?” Grulmar murmured.

     

    “Maybe you should read the timetable right there,” the Dunmer pointed at the board that was right opposite to the stairs leading to Hall of Elements. “All lessons are on there.”

     

    The Orc frowned. “Are ya shittin’ me? Why has no one told me about it?”

     

    Athis was trying to supress his laugh, but he didn’t do a particulary good job at it. “It is right in front of you when you enter the Arcaneum. Maybe that’s why?”

     

    “Ha-ha,” Grulmar grimaced. I think I wiped my arse with one of the papers from it once…”Anyway. Ya and Pigtails, huh?”

     

    Athis frowned and turned around, walking away, heading to the roof of Hall of Attainment. “Don’t know what you are talking about.”

     

    “Ya are either dumb or blind then,” Grulmar chuckled and followed him. “Don’t know what’s worse. She’s hittin’ on ya, Ash.”

     

    “And what do you know about such things?” Athis snapped at him, but that made Grulmar only laugh. He was getting under his skin and that was certainly a good thing. Plus, the retort was quite weak. He wasn’t a virgin anymore.

     

    “Call me educated by a certain dominating she-Orc,” he replied and then it was Athis’s turn to chuckle and then burst out laughing like if Grulmar just told some inside joke. “What’s so funny?” Grulmar asked, confused.

     

    “Ah, nothing, nothing,” Athis wiped a tear from the corner of his eye. “I certainly submit to your experience and wisdom, Grulmar. I’ll send Borgakh your regards. She’ll be delighted.”

     

    This ain’t funny. What the tusk does that mean?

     

    When they reached the roof, there was only Faralda and Onmund, and when she saw Grulmar, she furrowed her eyebrows, but otherwise she didn’t let any other feelings appear on her face. She probably expected that she’ll be teaching only Onmund so that she’ll have time to flirt with Athis, but now she had two students she’ll have to give her attention to.

     

    “Alright,” she started and looked at both Onmund and Grulmar, then smiled at Athis. “Do you know what Runes are?”

     

    Grulmar snorted. “Yeah. They go boom when ya get near to them. But otherwise they are… they fall into categories of spells once cast to be triggered later.”

     

    The poor excuse for a Nord standing next to him looked at him. “How do you know that?”

     

    “From a book,” Grulmar replied and smirked. “Try that sometimes. Once ya learn to read, Sorry.”

     

    “Enough,” barked Faralda and frowned at Grulmar. “Yes, you are right, they are precisely what you say they are. And how do we cast them?”

     

    The Orc just shrugged. “Didn’t get that far.”

     

    “Those more skilled in Destruction can project their image onto any surface, burn them into ground if you want,” Faralda explained. “But to do that, you must have a perfect imagine in your mind. And by perfect I do mean that every circle of the Rune has to be precise. One mistake and it might backfire. So before you learn to cast the Runes -” she handed a piece of parchment to Grulmar and then to Ondmund, “you have to learn how to draw them.”

     

    Grulmar looked at the parchment and frowned.

    “Whoever was drawin’ this it certainly wasn’t his best work,” he murmured. “I remember this one. This is Fire Rune, right? Run into a few of them at times. I can read Daedric but I never understood what meaning the letters have combined?”

     

    “You can read Daedric?” Faralda asked in surprise and Athis chuckled at that.

     

    Grulmar snorted. “Don’t know if you noticed, but I’m an Orc. We don’t have much use for written language, but every runt learns Daedric alphabet. Still doesn’t mean I understand this shit.”

     

    “The letters are a lock,” Athis explained and Faralda looked at him, with raised eyebrows and he raised his hands in gesture of staying out of it from now on.

     

    “Lock?” Grulmar asked in confusion.

     

    “Yes, a lock,” Faralda confirmed. “The Daedric letters are channeling the correct energy into the Rune, giving it its properties. Combined with the containing circles it creates the Rune spell. Each rune has its specific letters and circles, each is unique.”

     

    “So…” the Grulmar scratched his beard in thought, “the letters don’t have any meaning. They are just...instructions? Instructions of the Rune, on how it should work. What happens if I try to cast this Fire Rune,” he tapped on the parchment in his hand, “but imbuing it with frost magicks?”

     

    “It won’t work. Most likely it will blow your hands off,” Athis chuckled.

     

    “Yes. So your lesson today is to draw this Rune,” Faralda added and gave Grulmar and Onmund pieces of charcoal. “Start now,” she said and pointed on the floor. “You have plenty of room around here. Don’t make the Rune any bigger than it is on the parchment.”

     

    “The bigger they are…” Grulmar murmured and Athis finished:

     

    “The bigger the explosion.”

     

    Grulmar chuckled and began drawing on the ground. He heard Faralda and Athis talk to each other, chuckle and giggle, but truth was he wasn’t paying much attention to him. Because he saw a chance in this, a chance to at least partially master Destruction. If he had problems creating simple flames he knew he would have problems with casting runes. But drawing them and then pouring the Magicka into them seemed much easier to him. Well, yes, it was time-consuming, but he imagined that it didn’t require much talent. Beside drawin’. Athis corrected him few times when he was doing the inner circles and after several moments he was done.

     

    “Alright,” Faralda nodded. “Doesn’t look that bad. Now, in order to make them work, you have to touch them,” she was explaining and kneeled beside Onmund’s Rune. “But if you draw the Rune with charcoal, make sure you don’t smudge the circles, otherwise the Rune will explode the moment you start pouring Magicka into it. Now,” her hand touching the outer circle began to glow with blue light and Grulmar saw the Magicka pouring into the Rune. Slowly, the circles and letters began glowing with orange light, one after another - almost as if the magicka was water pouring through chinks in the floor. Faralda then stepped away from the rune that wasn’t any bigger than her palm and pushed the students with her.

     

    Now standing a good distance from it, she looked at Athis and smiled. “Would you be so kind?”

     

    “With my pleasure,” he replied and Grulmar rolled his eyes. The Dunmer conjured a fire in his hand and released it in a form of bolt towards the rune. The moment it hit it exploded in a ball of fire and Grulmar felt the heat as hot air was pushed from the Rune towards him. When the fire disappeared, there was only a scorched floor with no trace of the rune drawn there moment ago.

     

    “Damn,” he murmured. “Now I’m goin’ to try.”

     

    “Just don’t blow yourself up,” Athis chuckled.

     

    “Yeah, yeah,” Grulmar grinned.

     

    Sources used in this Lesson: Liturgy of Affliction

     

Comments

5 Comments   |   The Long-Chapper and 8 others like this.
  • Caladran
    Caladran   ·  December 3, 2017
    Interesting view of Runes. I like. :)
  • The Sunflower Manual
    The Sunflower Manual   ·  January 9, 2017
    Fire rune with frost magic, now there's an idea! If a skilled enough mage could compact the Magicka into the rune without disrupting it, what would the results be? Burning ice as mentioned by Seryne Relas? Or just a plain, functional ice rune?
  • A-Pocky-Hah!
    A-Pocky-Hah!   ·  January 8, 2017
    I like your interpretation of Runes, Karves. The one thing that bugs me about Runes is that why Daedric? Why not use Aedric symbols or Arcane symbols?
    • Karver the Lorc
      Karver the Lorc
      A-Pocky-Hah!
      A-Pocky-Hah!
      A-Pocky-Hah!
      I like your interpretation of Runes, Karves. The one thing that bugs me about Runes is that why Daedric? Why not use Aedric symbols or Arcane symbols?
        ·  January 8, 2017
      Exactly. Why? I have a feeling that Daedric is actually more common than Aedric - though there´s no such thing, it´s Ehlnofex I think. Arcane Symbols could be used too, the ones I´m using for Previous and Next which are derived from Shalidor´s Insights. B...  more
  • The Long-Chapper
    The Long-Chapper   ·  January 8, 2017
    Nice to see you cover Runes, Karver. And Ash and Pigtails. Tehehe, it's good to see them both laugh.  :D