Data and Magic

Julia, accustomed to the awe and curiosity that magic often inspired, readily agreed. "Magic," she explained, "is an innate force, a power that resides within all living beings, though its strength varies greatly. We call this inner power 'mana'. Think of it like a cup of water. When you use magic, you draw upon that mana, like taking a gulp from your cup. The size of the cup, your innate mana capacity, determines how much power you can wield, how complex and potent the spells you can cast."

William listened intently, his analytical mind absorbing the information, trying to fit it into a logical framework. "So, stronger mages have... larger cups?"

Julia nodded. "Precisely. And the act of casting a spell depletes that mana, like drinking from the cup. The more powerful the spell, the more mana it requires. A simple cantrip, like a spark of light, might take a tiny sip. A powerful spell, like the magic missiles I used against the wolves, would require a significant gulp."

"And how do you... refill the cup?" William asked, fascinated by the analogy.

"We absorb mana from the environment," Julia explained. "It's everywhere, in the air, in the earth, in living things. But the ability to absorb it varies greatly. Some individuals have a natural affinity for it, like a wide funnel that allows them to draw in mana quickly and efficiently. Others have a much narrower funnel, making the process slower and more difficult. And the environment itself plays a role. Areas rich in natural energy, like the Tallenwood Forest, have a higher concentration of mana, making it easier to replenish one's reserves. Barren lands, or places tainted by dark magic, might have very little mana available."

"So, a powerful mage," William mused, "is someone with both a large mana pool and a high absorption rate?"

"Exactly," Julia confirmed. "Someone who can store vast amounts of mana and replenish it quickly can cast powerful spells in rapid succession, without tiring. Edward, for example, is a skilled swordsman, and he can imbue his blade with lightning, which is a form of magic. But his mana capacity is relatively limited compared to mine. He's what we call a 'magic swordsman,' capable of enhancing his physical abilities with magic, but not a true spellcaster."

William's eyes widened in understanding. He remembered the crackling energy that had surrounded Edward's sword, the way it had sliced through the wolf with such ease. It wasn't just strength; it was magic, channelled through his weapon. "So, you... you're much stronger, magically speaking?"

Julia blushed slightly, a faint pink colouring her cheeks, a reaction William found unexpectedly endearing, though he quickly pushed the thought aside, focusing on the conversation. "I... I have a natural aptitude for magic," she admitted modestly. "My family has a history of strong mages. I've been trained since childhood."

William couldn't help but exclaim, "That's amazing!" His enthusiasm, his genuine fascination with the subject, was evident in his voice, in his wide-eyed expression.

Julia, slightly flustered by his outburst, continued her explanation, her voice regaining its composure. "There are many different types of magic, each with its own principles and techniques. The most common is elemental magic, harnessing the power of fire, water, earth, and air. There's also enchantment magic, which involves imbuing objects with magical properties, like Edward's sword, or the translation spell I used. And then... there are darker forms." She paused, her expression darkening. "Necromancy, the magic used by Neverus and his Dark Legion, is a perversion of the natural order, a twisting of life and death. It's a foul and dangerous magic, fuelled by suffering and fuelled by death."

"And what about healing magic?" William asked, remembering Mendal's words. "The doctor said my wound healed as if by magic."

Julia's brow furrowed slightly. "True healing magic, the kind that can mend grievous wounds in moments, is incredibly rare. It was once practiced by the priests of the old gods, but that knowledge has been largely lost, faded into legend. There are potions and herbs, like the citrusroot, that can aid in healing, but true restorative magic... that's something else entirely."

William was silent for a moment, digesting this information. The implications were staggering. If he had somehow tapped into a lost form of magic...

"So, how do you actually cast a spell?" he asked, changing the subject, eager to learn more about the mechanics of magic.

"It's a combination of three things," Julia explained. "Mana, which we've discussed, is the fuel. Then there are runes, symbolic representations of magical forces, patterns that shape and direct the flow of mana. And finally, there are incantations, spoken words that act as a catalyst, activating the runes and releasing the spell."

She held out her hand, demonstrating. "For example, the 'magic missile' spell I used earlier. It requires a basic magic output rune, combined with a 'fast arrow' rune to give it speed and direction. The incantation, the spoken words, act as the trigger, releasing the energy in the desired form." She drew a few simple shapes in the air with her finger, a faint golden glow trailing behind her movements. "Think of it like building blocks. Each rune is a component, and the incantation is the instruction manual that tells the mana how to assemble those components into a specific effect. The more complex the spell, the more intricate the runes and the more precise the incantation must be."

William's mind was racing. It was like coding, but with magic instead of computers. A system of logic, of rules, of cause and effect and of course data. He felt a surge of excitement, a spark of understanding. "So, in theory," he said, his voice filled with a newfound enthusiasm, "anyone could learn magic, if they had the right knowledge and enough mana?"

Julia smiled at his eagerness. "In theory, yes. But aptitude varies greatly. Some people are naturally gifted, while others struggle to grasp even the simplest spells. It takes years of practice, of dedication, to master even the basics. And some forms of magic are inherently dangerous, requiring a strong will and a deep understanding of the forces involved." She paused, her expression turning serious. "But yes, William, in theory, you could learn magic."

William's heart skipped a beat. The possibility, however remote, was exhilarating. To learn magic, to wield the power of this world... it was a dream come true, a chance to transcend his limitations, to become something more than just a data analyst.

"Could you... could you teach me?" he asked, the words tumbling out before he could stop them, a mixture of hope and trepidation in his voice.

Julia's smile widened, a genuine expression of warmth and encouragement. "I would be happy to teach you what I know, William. But it won't be easy. It will require patience, dedication, and a willingness to embrace a new way of thinking. But first," she added, her tone turning practical, "we need to find Edward. We should see what the Adventurers Guild has to say about those goblins. Their presence so close to Sharwood is... unsettling." She glanced towards the fortified walls of the town, her expression turning serious, a shadow of worry clouding her features. The darkness, it seemed, was never far away.