Data and Magic

The elation William felt at sensing his own mana, that faint tingling warmth that resonated within him, was quickly followed by a wave of overwhelming emotion. He'd spent his life immersed in the tangible, quantifiable world of data, of logic and reason, where every effect had a demonstrable cause. While he had devoured fantasy novels, losing himself in worlds of magic and wonder, they had always remained firmly in the realm of fiction. As a young boy, like many others no doubt, he had dreamed that he could use magic, no doubt influenced by the fantasy stories or superheroes comics he would read. Now, he was confronted with the undeniable reality of magic, a force that defied his previous understanding of the universe, a power that he, William Shard, could potentially wield.

Tears welled up in his eyes, blurring his vision, a mixture of joy, disbelief, and a profound sense of wonder. He was no longer just a data analyst, a cog in the machine of a mundane world. He was something more, a potential initiate into the mysteries of a world where the impossible was possible. The weight of this realization, the sheer magnitude of this shift in his reality, was almost too much to bear. He blinked back the tears, a shaky smile spreading across his face, a laugh bubbling up from his chest, a sound that was both bewildered and ecstatic. For William, since being transported to the land of Aver, this has perhaps been the only time he has been able to laugh with such joy like this. He had faced one danger after another, his focus has purely been on surviving.

Julia watched him, her own smile mirroring his joy, but with a subtle undercurrent of something else – a flicker of surprise, perhaps even a hint of shock, carefully masked beneath her calm exterior. She had expected him to be pleased, of course, to be excited by the prospect of learning magic. But the intensity of his reaction, the raw emotion that poured from him, was unexpected.

Internally, Julia was reeling. Everyone could touch mana the source of magic, in theory. It was a fundamental force of nature, woven into the fabric of their world, as intrinsic to life as the air they breathed. The ability to sense one's own mana, to feel that connection to the magical energies that permeated the universe, was a natural, inherent capacity, something that should, with enough guidance and practice, eventually awaken in everyone. The problem was the time it usually took.

Most people required weeks, even months, of dedicated meditation, of focused effort, to even begin to perceive the faintest glimmer of their own inner mana. It was a slow, arduous process, a gradual awakening of a dormant sense, a painstaking cultivation of an inner awareness that most people never developed. Even she, Julia, considered exceptionally gifted by her tutors, with a family lineage steeped in magical tradition, had taken two full weeks of intensive training before she had felt that first, tentative flicker of recognition. And she had been hailed as a prodigy, a natural talent, a mage with extraordinary potential.

William, a complete novice, a man they found lying unconscious in Tallenwood, who has seemingly no experience with magic whatsoever, had sensed his mana on his first try. It was unheard of, unprecedented, bordering on the impossible. It defied all conventional understanding of magical aptitude, of the natural progression of learning. It suggested a level of innate talent, of raw potential, that was almost frightening in its implications.

But Julia, ever the composed and controlled mage, kept her astonishment hidden. She didn't want to overwhelm him, to put undue pressure on him, to disrupt the delicate balance of confidence and humility that was essential for any aspiring magic user. He had the right attitude, the right mindset, the eagerness to learn, the willingness to work hard. That was what mattered most.

"It's a good start, William," she said, her voice calm and reassuring, her tone carefully neutral, betraying none of the internal turmoil she was experiencing. "Now that you can sense your mana, we need to determine your current capacity, your... well, the size of your cup, as we discussed."

She explained that the simplest way to gauge one's mana reserves was through practical application, by attempting to cast a low-level spell repeatedly until exhaustion. The longer one could sustain the spell, the larger one's mana pool was presumed to be.

And so, Julia began to teach William his first spell: Light, the incantation for a simple illumination. It was the most fundamental of spells, a simple manipulation of mana to create a small, sustained light, a magical equivalent of a candle flame. It required minimal energy, making it ideal for assessing a beginner's magical potential.

"The Light spell," Julia explained, "requires only two runes: the basic mana output rune, which is the foundation of almost all spells, and the light rune, which specifies the desired effect."

She picked up a small, smooth, river stone and held it out for William to see. Then, with a practiced flick of her wrist, she traced two symbols onto the surface of the stone with her fingertip. The runes, though invisible to the naked eye, seemed to shimmer faintly for a moment, a subtle distortion of the air, before fading away.

"These are the runes," she said. "Now, the incantation. Focus your mana, visualize the light you want to create, and speak the word: Light."

She held the stone aloft, her eyes closing in concentration. "Light," she whispered, her voice soft but clear, imbued with a subtle resonance, a power that seemed to vibrate in the air.

The stone in her hand began to glow, emitting a soft, warm light, no brighter than a candle flame, but steady and unwavering. It illuminated her face, casting dancing shadows on the surrounding foliage, a tiny beacon in the gathering dusk.

Julia opened her eyes, the glow in her hand fading slightly, but the stone continued to emit its gentle light. "Your turn, William," she said, handing him the stone. "Try to replicate what I did. Focus on the runes, visualize the light, and speak the incantation."