The gray stone’s black tentacles constricted around the shell of mana that protected Mar’s consciousness from the demonic entity that sought to absorb it. They wrapped tighter and tighter until an onlooker wouldn’t have been able to see milky-white shell of mana underneath the writhing mass of tentacles.

The gray stone commanded telepathically.

Mar heard the message, but didn’t know how to respond, trapped as he was. It was small and cramped inside the orb of mana. Mar didn’t have a body. It was just like how he had felt when he had first been transported into the spirit world. He was a collection of thoughts and ideas, unbound and without constraints. This place was like a tiny microcosm of the spirit realm, only inside here all the thoughts and ideas where his own. His memories flashed before his consciousness, and he felt as though he could scroll through all of them at will. Things were starting to feel odd. His body, or lack thereof, was influencing his perception. Emotions began to fade and a cool numbness overtook him.

Mar analyzed his life dispassionately, as if he were just a bystander who had been looking over his own shoulder his entire life.

Verona really had been just a boyhood crush. It was silly for him to hold out for her. He should have known that the moment the headmaster, with a sad grimace and a pat on the shoulder, had told him that he would never be a mage.

That had been the day he had ceased to be anything special. The day they separated him from Verona and all the other young mages in training and threw him away in the library to be forgotten. That dismissal had been worse than a thousand beatings from Darrik and his cronies.

For some reason, Mar’s mind was drawn to the memory. In the waking world he avoided it like the plague, but here he had an incredible and indescribable urge to relive those moments. It was as if there was an itch in his mind that just needed to be stretched. With a moment of concentration, it materialized before his consciousness. Something seemed unusual about it, as if the memory before him and the one he thought he knew weren’t exactly the same. He focused on vision before him, bringing it to life.

Mar’s eyes were fixed the circle in front of him. He’d delicately drawn it in chalk, then erased it and redrawn it a thousand times, each time hoping that maybe if he just improved the spell diagram slightly or chanted a little better, the spell would finally work for him.

He looked around the room. It was small and cramped, barely bigger than a closet. Instantly, Mar knew where he was. He had spent countless hours in this room, struggling and failing cast a spell. Mar looked down at his body. His proportions were wrong on him. His limbs felt different. His hands were smaller. Mar was a child again, at the age of eleven.

All the other first year students had already gone home. It was a basic light spell. The kind that even a second order mage could do with a thought, and yet here Mar was, books splayed open before him, working through the full ritual for the thousandth time.

The evidence of his many failures was visible in the form of the chalk dust on his pants and tunic, and the hoarseness in his voice from the constant chanting. The candles around him had burned down to the nubs.

The sun had set hours ago, and the light of a new day had started creeping over the horizon. All the other students had left hours ago. Even the senior student who was supposed to supervise Mar headed home for the day. Not that Mar cared. The older boy had long ago given up assisting Mar, and usually left Mar to his own devices while he walked out to chat with friends. Mar had never stopped practicing though. Sure, the water, fire, and air varieties of the spell may have been no good for him, but he felt that if he just gave the earth variant an extra try with the full ritual he would be able to finally cast the spell.

He’d been disheartened to find his elemental affinities across the rest of the spectrum were so low that he couldn’t even cast a basic light spell with them, but that meant his talent for earth magic had to be that much greater, right? It wouldn’t be unusual for an mono-elemental earth mage to have trouble making light. The more Mar thought about it the more he convinced himself that he was right, and if he just tried a little harder he’d be able to make this work.

They’d shoved him in the remedial class a month ago, with all the others who were slow to cast their first spell. That had been a full fourth of Mar’s year of students at first, but one by one each of them had made a breakthrough and been sent to their appropriate departments. After three months, only Mar was left. And here he was, six months after that. They’d moved him into a room barely bigger than a broom closet to make way for a new class of students. Mar had to move everything that had been inside of the closet out, but it even then it was just barely big enough for the enlarged spell diagram.

He’d had to dig through the library to find a complete drawing for this spell. Even the masters didn’t know, since virtually everyone was able to build the spell-weave from the abbreviated diagram. Even making a template that could be embedded in a mage’s aura didn’t require the full diagram, though that was rarely done considering how simple the weave was. Mana was energy. Making light with magic was as simple as pushing mana through something and letting the energy bleed off into the physical world. Even one of Maste Quigain’s pet goblins had demonstrated competency with the spell.

“Azgazar, forentine hosh mojur nivelium Moroth!” Mar shouted the chant in it’s original language, just be certain there hadn’t been a mistranslation at some point that was screwing him up.

But the words were just a guide. Anyone can shout and wriggle their fingers, but it takes a mage to manipulate mana. Mar was already sitting cross legged on the floor. He closed his eyes and focused, endless hours of practice had allowed him to fall into a state of meditation instantly and soon he was plucking at strands of mana from his core. His aura was small for now, but once he cast this spell and mana spilled forth from his well to fill it surely he’d have a higher capacity for spells than anyone else in his class! That would show the others. Especially the ones who called him a failure. Mar couldn’t wait to see the look on that Darrik kids face when Mar beat him at sparring practice.

Mar grabbed at the strands of mana and pulled them from his center. They were thin and filamentous, rather than the rippling chords some of the other students had wielded, but that hardly mattered. Dexterity and control was every bit as important as raw power in magecraft.

The portion of Mar that was observing this memory from the future gaped in wonder. He’d tried to pull mana from his core many times since this day, but it had never worked for him. The headmaster had told him he was simply unable to pull mana from his center, and that’s why it would be impossible for him to become a mage.

Young Mar pulled the strands out of his center with ease. He thrust the wriggling strands of energy into the object in front of him. The other students had just used bits of colored glass but this was a artificer-made tool that consisted of a rod of ruby and a power amplifier. Mar fed the little bits of mana into the device while simultaneously opening his real eyes to look at the device. Hoping against all previous failures that this would be the time it would light up for him.

Nothing happened.

Why was this so hard for him!? Mar stood up and in a fit of anger smeared his carefully drawn chalk diagram into unrecognizability. He nearly swatted the power amplifier aside, but stopped himself at the last moment. It wasn’t like Mar to give into fits of anger, and the power amplifier had been a loan from Master Warric. Still, he couldn’t suppress his frustration completely. How many times must he fail before the gods would let him have even the slightest taste of success? Yes, there were plenty of people who lived their life without magic, but Mar hadn’t grown up among them. Perhaps if he’d been a cooper or a tradesman’s son he could have shrugged off the inability to make magic and said ‘oh well’, going on to live a normal and perfectly happy life.

But that was unacceptable for Mar. He had built his whole identity around the idea of someday becoming a mage. Everyone he knew and respected was a mage, and every day he had been told that magic was valued above all things. He had been raised by mages for the purpose of someday joining their ranks. He simply couldn’t imagine a life without magic. Mar felt his cheeks and noticed that tears had leaked from his eyes without him realizing.

Mar flipped through the old book he had found the spell in. Most of it was written in languages predating the Remian Empire. It had taken long hours of toil to translate the relevant section, and he had ended up with several pages of useless history. One such page was a detailed account of some long dead deity by the name of Moroth. Odd, since the temples make the gods out to be immortals, but the text before him clearly stated that Moroth was dead. The dead god was a tragic figure who turned the gods against each other, in a vain attempt to claim the title of God of gods. According to the text, the other gods all joined forces to defeat and kill Moroth.

Oh well. He’d prayed to every living god he could think of. Why not try a dead one? Mar tried to think of an appropriate prayer for a primordial god, but Mar wasn’t even sure what aspect of creation fell under Moroth’s purview. Eventually Mar decided to just make one up.

“Moroth… I don’t ask for great power. I don’t want to be given anything I don’t have to work for, but if I have even the smallest bit of talent, please help it reveal itself…”

Then Mar discarded all of the carefully prepared rituals. All the chants and diagrams. He just reached into himself and grabbed as much mana as his force of will could possibly control.

He grabbed Master Warric’s power amplifier and poured all of his gathered mana into it. It came out in long thin strands, creating the messiest weave Mar had ever seen. It was also the most complicated Mar had ever seen. Even after Mar had let go of the mana it wriggled and writhed inside the device, slowly setting into an obscure position. The strands of mana never merged, and through the artificer lenses Mar was looking through he saw a mass of mana that looked like a bowl of wet noodles.

Mar sighed, waiting for the mis-woven spell form to dissipate into the spirit realm, but nothing happened.

Then it twitched.

Mar looked at the device again. What had just happened? For a moment there he thought he had seen it move…

Mare stared at the device intently for a handful of breaths. When nothing happened he reached over to grab it.

That’s when it bit him.

Inside the case, between the ruby rod and the inscribed silver around it a tiny gap had opened up. Inside of it was a row of small but sharp, jagged teeth.

Mar jerked back his finger in alarm. He looked and saw that a tiny drop of blood welled up out of wound. There was a slight chattering on the ground in front of him, like the sound of something small and metal vibrating against the ground. Mar realized it was the tiny device, jittering ever so slightly in place.

“You want this?” Mar whispered to it while holding up his lightly bleeding finger. Mar squeezed his thumb against his pointer finger until a droplet of blood welled up. He held it over the top of the strange creature and let the blood drip on top of it. The creature scrambled with it’s tiny mouth. A primitive tentacle-like tongue extended from inside of it and licked at the spot on it’s body where the droplet had fallen. Mar let it have a few more drops of blood and smiled as it scrambled to lick them up.

Somehow, Mar knew that he was responsible for this things existence. He’d heard that mages from long ago were able to use magic to sculpt living things as easily as an earth mage could sculpt a house out of stone, but he hadn’t heard about any living mages being able to manipulate living things in such a way. Sure, the flesh mages were able to manipulate and modify the body for cosmetic changes and healing, but bringing non-living things to life was beyond their abilities. Perhaps Mar was special?

Mar picked up the tiny creature. It bit into his hand, causing him to drop it, but Mar was not dissuaded. Wrapping his hand with a bit of cloth, both to stop the bleeding and to make a mitten to safely hold the little creature, Mar picked up his tiny creation and ran on to show Master Warric. Mar would need to apologize for destroying his power amplifier anyway, so it made sense that he should be the first master to lay eyes on Mar’s creation.

It wasn’t hard to find Master Warric. He was perhaps the only other person in the school at this hour, and the light streaming from his workshop, combined with the constant ringing noise of metal being beaten with a hammer.

Mar rapped on the door. A twist of the latch told him that it was open. The eager young mage pushed the door open practically skipping as he made it to the bench where Master Warric was working. Mar tapped him on the shoulder.

“Master Warric! I need to show you something!” Mar said excitedly.

Master Warric waved an arm behind him. “Hold your horses Bernard! I’ve seen your designs for a nail that twists into wood a dozen times already! I’ve told you, it’s impractical!”

“No, Master Warric, It’s me, Mar!”

The dwarf finally turned around. “Mar my boy! By Domoulis! Have you grown since I last saw you? I’d swear I had a full head’s height on you this morning.”

Mar smiled at the overused greeting. Master Warric seemed to say that every time he saw him.

“First, I have to apologize. I think I broke your mana amplifier.”

“Oh, I’m sure it’s nothing major. I can probably fix it right up.” Master Warric plucked the small device out of Mar’s cloth covered hand and held it up the light. “Looks like the ruby is intact, which is the most expensive part. The casing here seems to have some unusual ridges. This is some very fine detail work. How did you get a file inside— YOW!” The dwarf was stopped mid sentence. His fingers had been probing the artificial creatures tiny mouth and it had just bit down on the dwarf’s appendages. Its tiny jaws weren’t able to pierce the thick callouses on the old dwarfs hands, but it still hurt.

“By the blue balls of Domoulis! What in the abyss!?” Master Warric shook his hand and dropped the device to the floor. After inspecting his finger he looked at the device again and saw the tiny tentacle flick out of it’s mouth.

“Is that a mimic?” Master Warric asked in a hush whisper.

Mar had heard of those before. They were creatures that liked to look like ordinary objects, but they were really monsters. They lured in unsuspecting prey and then attacked when their guard was down.

“There’s no way one could have gotten into the city. The Realmstone would never allow it.” The dwarf muttered allowed.

“No Master Warric, I made this!” Mar announced proudly.

The old artificer gaped at him. “You made this?”

Mar nodded, a grin on his face.

The dwarf picked up a pair of tongs from near the forge and used them to pluck the small creature off the ground. Then he dropped it inside a tall glass beaker. It tried to scramble for the edges, but having no legs meant it’s locomotion abilities were poor. The gray-bearded dwarf held it up to his face so he could examine it without getting bitten. After a minute of prodding it he set the beaker down.

Then Master Warric rummaged through an old box and pulled out a power amplifier identical to the one he had given Mar. “Show me how you made it.”

Mar took the device and set it on the ground in front of him. He thought back to exactly what he had done before. He’d taken a big clump of his mana and pushed it into the device.

Mar sat down and repeated the steps exactly as he remembered them. It wasn’t too hard, considering how simple the manipulation had been. All he had really done was take mana and pour it into the power amplifier.

Mar poured the mana out of himself and it all collected inside the ruby as a tangled knot of mana. It held together for a second but then fell apart.

Master Warric, who had been watching the process with rapt attention, let out a sigh of relief. Mar mistook it for disappointment.

“Let me try again!” Mar said. And before Master Warric replied Mar was already at it. He pulled an even bigger bundle of mana from his center and jammed it into thee ruby. It held together, but nothing seemed to be happening.

After a long moment, there was a sputtering gasp of life. This time the small creature had two little tentacles, which it flailed around violently for several moments before going still again.

“By the gods! Spirit magic.” Domoulis whispered. “Come with me Mar, I have to inform the headmaster. You’re going to need special tutoring.”

Mar was jerked out the the vision by a loud cracking sound. A tiny gap had appeared in his magical construct. What was that memory? All he remembered from that day was failing to achieve any results and giving up in a fit of disgust. Actually, now that he thought about it, he couldn’t remember exactly at what point he gave up at. All he really remembered was when the headmaster came to talk with him. Next thing he knew he was in the library being taught how to care for the books.

Boomed the gray stone’s voice from beyond the confines of the cold shell.

Mar realized that unlike before, he could peer through the tiny crack in the wall and see the rest of the spirit world outside of his protective shell. The mages were gone, likely that evil spirits work. It did look quite intimidating at the moment. A huge writhing mass of black tentacles, most of which were surrounding him. The crack around Mar was growing larger. This was bad.

Mar shouted telepathically. The calming effect this state had on his emotions allowed him to consider the situation he was in, and Mar realized bargaining might be his only option. A mocking chuckle from the demon was his only reply.

Mar tried to observe his surroundings once more through the crack in the sphere. That’s when he noticed that the stone’s manifestation seemed slightly smaller than the last time he looked. The tentacles had shrunk slightly in number. Examining them closely, Mar realized that he could see tiny flecks of mana streaming off of them.

Mar realized aloud.

The malevolent spirit paused briefly for a moment.

Mar hissed in reply.

Mar replied.

Mar didn’t like where this was going.

This all seemed vaguely familiar to Mar. Thinking back, hadn’t he dreamed something similar? He considered the offer for a moment, but Mar realized he didn’t have much of a choice.

Mar commented. It sounded like stupidity to Mar. The stone might be able to crush a few students with ease, but this wasn’t the first time a warlock had come to Orlem. The inquisitors always got them, eventually.

.

Mar snapped.

The stone prodded.

Mar remarked dryly.

Mar laughed.

Mar received the distinct impression of a grin through the telepathic link.

There was a few moments of silence.

Mar said.

Mar prodded. Mar thought he sensed a distasteful sneer.

Mar continued.