Chapter 25: Incantation, Part 1

The Rocky Mule Inn wasn't as drab as its prices suggested.

There wasn't anything broken or missing, the wooden floors shone with a lacquered shine, and everything was lit by fire as bright as sunlight, achieved via a special powder made from ground rentek flower petals.

This same powder made the fire's burn time double before needing more fuel, and made it less likely to catch things on fire.

Rentek powder was extremely popular in Ondethale for these reasons, but was used quickly, leaving little left for exports. And since the Opyek Empire loved its tariffs, that meant most couldn't afford it. Those who could wouldn't buy it anyway, as they could just buy magical lights.

In other words, this powder was pretty much only seen here.

The men and women inside were even rowdier than those at the tavern Morne had rested at in Cetregor, and song filled the building and spilled out into the streets through the open windows.

Beer and music flowed like water, and everyone was grinning from ear to ear.

Morne went straight to the service desk, which was also where drinks were ordered, and asked for a room.

"It's two small silvers a night," the innkeeper replied, a friendly smile on his face. "You can pay upfront, or by the day. Each day comes with two meals, and beer is ten percent off so long as you're staying."

Morne pulled a large silver out with his card and slipped it to the man, ignoring the look of awe on the innkeeper's face as he did so.

"So you're a Mage?" the man said, a hint of surprise in his tone. "You don't look the type."

No response.

"…Right, well, this will cover the next five days. Here's your room key, it goes to the door up the stairs and two doors down on the right. You can get your two meals here at this counter whenever you want them."

Morne nodded and took the key, trudging up the stairs.

Not a small amount of the patrons had halted their song when Morne had used his bank card, intrigue and trepidation fighting for dominance in their drunken minds as they watched Morne ascend the stairs.

"You ever seen a Mage with such shoddy clothes?" one of them finally asked jokingly.

That eased the tension, and those gathered laughed nervously, praying that Morne hadn't heard that comment.

"Well, what are we waiting for?" asked another man, an unlucky guard assigned to the night shift tonight. "On with the song! I gotta go back to work in a few hours, and I'd prefer to do it with some warmth in my heart, not just my belly!"

That shattered what unease was left in their intoxicated brains, and they burst back into song, swiftly forgetting Morne's display.

.......

"Entak Netku," Morne said.

The book appeared in his hand, and he wiggled around on the bed to place his back against the wall.

The room wasn't anything fancy, just a bed, a lantern on a table next to the bed, a small chest for belongings, and a shuttered window in the back wall, but that was all Morne needed.

He flipped to the page he left off, the one containing the Spell "Splinter."

He knew that once he cast it for the first time, it would be much easier to do so again. He'd be able to assign an incantation to focus his mind, and the Mark would already be inscribed in his Tower.

But he had to cast it the hard way first.

He felt for his Chimh Well and wrapped his mind around a glob of the clear liquid within.

This was something that became easier each time he did it, like working out a muscle. It was already twice as easier than the first time he attempted this thanks to his practice with the card Heten had given him.

Twice as easier didn't mean easy, however, and he still had to focus hard to coax the Chimh out of the well.

He didn't rush, guiding the liquid to his Tower patiently.

It seeped through the stone and appeared inside, whereupon Morne started circulating it in the pattern transcribed in the book.

As he did so, a Mark started to form on the wall, in the center of the twisting pattern he was creating. It started as a thin white dot connected to the stream before branching off and growing as time passed into an archaic and strange form.

The longer he circulated his Chimh, the closer the Mark was to completion, until finally…

Morne's hand flew up, a finger pointed at the wall.

A bolt of reddish-black, no bigger than his fingernail, flew out from the tip of his index finger and splattered apart against the wall with a barely audible *thump*.

At the same time, a hint of color left his cheeks, an almost imperceptible change.

Morne had cast his first Spell. He was officially a Novice Mage.

He checked his Tower, discovering that the Mark was still there. With a bit of effort, he guided some more Chimh to the Mark and pointed his finger once again.

Thump.

Another bolt splashed against the wall. Another drop of color left Morne's features.

The first casting had taken at least five minutes, but this one had taken only twenty seconds, as he already had the Mark required to cast it.

This time he decided to try an incantation, flipping through the book to the proper page.

This was something that took just as long as this first casting took to set up. It was essentially training both your mind and your Chimh to perform a certain action with a specific word, something that wasn't too hard considering Chimh relied on intent.

This was something Heten had hinted at when he told Morne how the bank card worked.

Morne kept referring to it as "grasping" or "grabbing," but in reality, the only thing that was moving the Chimh from his Chimh Well was his intentions.

This was why Heten distracting him before had caused him to lose his progress. If he was actually holding the Chimh with something like a magical, psychic hand, would that have been so easy to do?

An incantation's purpose was to keep the Mage's focus on that intent. It was harder to startle someone out of a sentence than it was to break their concentration.