Chapter 5: Chapter 5: Culture

'Magic is to impose one’s own will on all of creation.' That is, famously, the opening line of the inauguration speech by the current headmaster of the Phoenican academy, but during my journeys, I realized that many cultures take a more spiritual approach to the miracles that mana can create. I’m still unsure which side comes closer to the truth.

- from Veronica Citra’s travel log.

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Magic! Let me repeat that: M-A-G-I-C! And not the smoke-and-mirrors kind that stage magicians used in my old world. No, no, no, we’re talking the shooting-fireballs-and-lightning kind of magic. There probably wasn’t one person in my old world, that hadn’t thought about what it would be like to use actual magic, and now I would be trained to do just that.

Now, I had obviously just said that my training wouldn’t start until next season at the earliest, but my mom had apparently pulled a few strings and as the sole boy not yet of age it was decided, that my training begin as soon as possible. And that meant right now!

Tasos and I were currently walking to a small stream quite a bit away from the camp, although it was more like I was hopping from one side to the other while I urged the old man to hurry up. He had said that his magic was too volatile to demonstrate near the camp. Over his shoulder, he also carried a big bag with him and was extra careful not to throw it around too much. He wouldn’t say what was inside, though.

Eventually, we reached what should have been a small creek coming from the mountain range in the south, but thanks to the recent snowfall, it had turned into quite an impressive stream. The old man gently put the pack down and pulled out a thick rug, before rolling it out on a flat piece of ground. After sitting down on it, he motioned for me to do the same.

Once I made my way over, he let his gaze wander over the admittedly beautiful landscape and took a deep breath in and exhaled slowly, forming a small cloud in the spring air.

“So, young Charas, I heard, you want to learn magic, is that right?” He turned his eyes towards me and I thought I saw a grin on his face, but he hadn’t turned all the way, so I couldn’t be sure.

“Yes, please!” even though I just sat down, I was already bouncing with excitement again.

Tasos gave a slow nod in reply and pulled out another item from his bag. It was wrapped in expensive-looking cloth, but soon enough he unfolded it, and I was instantly awestruck by the craftsmanship on display. The wooden item in Tasos’ hands was a big bow-stringed instrument that had a lot of decorations engraved in its body and a truly absurd amount of small tags hanging off the very top. The carvings represented the battles that he had fought, while the tags were a special badge of honor. Each plate symbolized a won duel; wooden tags meant both combatants survived, while metal signified a fight to the death; most of his tags were, in fact, metal.

He didn’t stop there though, as he carefully laid his instrument on the ground and pulled out a rather chunky-looking flute-thing and finally an instrument that reminded me a bit of a harp. The last things in the bag were a cloth-wrapped package, similar to the first.

As one might expect, music played a big role in Eurota culture. It was used at festivals to lift the spirit of any listener and was used to express one’s grief and sorrow during the funeral marches - and the main reason for my excitement right now - music was also a potent weapon of war. I had never really seen any combat spells be cast, but according to my mother, a skilled magic user was a truly fearsome opponent.

“To begin with, the most important lesson to remember about magic is to choose the right tool for the job. Take the paigoh, for example.” He picked up the blocky flute. “It’s great at shorter ranges and shouldn’t be underestimated in a duel, but there is a reason you rarely find them on an actual battlefield.” As if to underline what he meant, he lifted it to his mouth and played a few notes in quick succession. Suddenly, a small bolt of lightning shot from somewhere in front of Tasos and hit a piece of driftwood a few steps away. I jumped up in surprise and the old man tried to suppress his laughter at my reaction.

In response, I started pouting, but I don’t think he actually saw it. Picking his impressive Veng Tuba from the ground next, he removed his collected tags and wore them like a necklace before starting a new song. The fiddle-like instrument had a deep, bassy sound that could probably travel a long distance over the empty steppe. He played a harsher tune than what I was used to, though; lots of abrupt shifts in tempo and pitch, but the melody still sounded nice.

At first, I didn’t understand why he played it though. No sudden lightning strikes or fireballs flying around. The first indication that something was happening came soon, however. The branches that were scorched by the previous lightning suddenly started smoking a whole lot, and even though it was cold enough to see the breath in front of my face, I could see sparks rising into the air. Not a moment later, the wood caught fire. In response, Tasos changed to a lighter melody and I thought I could hear him whistle lightly.

The smoke that was previously rising up suddenly stopped in mid-air and it looked like it was getting caught in a transparent bubble, before being lowered onto the flame. Soon after surrounding the fire completely, the air pocket got filled with so much smoke that it became impossible to see the branch that started the fire. When Tasos stopped his music, all I saw was the smoke giving way to a soot-covered piece of wood; the flame had been extinguished.

“The Veng Tuba, on the other hand, is a versatile and powerful weapon and in skilled hands can turn many a battle in your favor, but using it is slow and makes you an easy target. Oftentimes, the difference between a good warrior and a great one is knowing when to stand one’s ground and when to retreat to live another day.”

He laid down his decorated instrument again and picked up the harp-like bow. It looked like one of the bigger hunting bows, but with a lot of indentations to insert more strings.

“And last, but certainly not least, the Ahfotu. On the move, it is the best of the three, but even while standing still, it possesses decent power and range. Plus, in an emergency, it can even be used as a bow,” he said with a small wink. I just rolled my eyes but didn’t speak up as he continued.

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“Once you have sufficient understanding of what you can and can’t do with magic, you can also enhance or modify a spell’s effect by whistling or singing. Casting only with your voice is also technically possible, but wastes a lot of energy and should only be utilized in dire circumstances.”

“Soo... which instrument will I learn?” I obviously hoped that he would say the Veng Tuba, but he just gave me a confused look and answered: “All of them, of course.”

~

The lessons had been both the most exciting and disappointing times of my new life yet. The first step to using magic was figuring out which elements I held an affinity for and that meant a lot of trial and error. According to Tasos, I should feel a sort of resonance in my core when casting magic that I had a talent for, but I quickly realized that none of the melodies he taught me did much; neither in my ‘core’ nor in the outside world.

The biggest effect I could create was changing the wind for a few moments or calming down a small section of the river, but I wasn’t really sure if I should even attribute them to my doing. I wouldn’t give up hope on the very first day, though, and the old man made it clear that I shouldn’t be discouraged just because I didn’t have an affinity for elemental magic.

There were, apparently, a whole slew of different magic variants; Elemental, meaning fire, water, earth, wind, and any sub-variants of the four; nature magic, which focused on the growth of plants and animals; to even time magic in rare cases. Talking about the last one made my right hand itch for some reason, but I didn’t pay it much attention. Unfortunately for me, Tasos was most skilled in the elemental kind of magics and, as such, the spells he was most familiar with weren’t ones I had a talent for.

Ultimately, most of the lesson had just been focused on learning how to play the instruments. That had been fun in its own way, though. The water songs had been my favorite ones so far; lots of serene slower parts inter-cut by quicker-paced bits. At the very end, I was also given my own set of instruments. That was an important cultural symbol, as it signaled that I had become a full-fledged adult member of the tribe; and I am not gonna deny that it was a pretty big deal for me. The equivalent for the hunters would be crafting their own hunting bow.

The sun was already touching the earth in our west and painted the sky in an orange-red hue as we made our way back to camp; but, despite my protests, my first day of studying was still not over. Tasos had joked about my tiredness, and said that I would spend the next few winters studying from dusk until I could no longer keep my eyes open... at least I hoped he meant it as a joke.

Once I saw the small smoke trail coming out of the big communal tent, I also noticed something I had completely missed: I was getting hungry! In all my excitement about magic, I had totally forgotten to eat anything since breakfast and the old man agreed that we should get dinner now.

Thanks to my good relationship with the cooks and my position as the chief's kid, I usually got my food pretty quickly. Eurota cuisine relied pretty heavily on hunted game and dairy products from our labor animals - though a lot of them died during the last winter - and today was no exception. The big metal pots were filled with a meat-heavy stew.

Cooking was only rarely done over an open flame, as it was too inefficient and fuel could be hard to come by. Usually, big clay ovens, kept warm by a dedicated cooking staff, were utilized. Prior to today, that had actually been the most magic I had seen.

I eventually got handed a clay bowl filled with the brown stew; the only eating utensil was a small knife that I normally carried on my belt. As for drink, I had taken my waterskin with me to the river and it was filled with chilled mountain water coming directly from the Elven border. As an adult, I could also technically drink the alcoholic beverages our tribe produced, but after the few times I had secretly tried them, I wasn’t really keen on tasting them anytime soon.

The Eurota’s body shape made tables and especially chairs rather useless, so the eating area was just a few rugs that no one would mind getting dirty thrown outside the communal tent if the weather allowed it. Stepping outside, I instantly found my mother and sisters eating just outside the tent, so I squeezed in between my sisters and they quickly made room for me. Now was my time to gloat!

“Hey, Chariii... you *hic* love me the most, right???” Or maybe not! Abort! Abort! I tried to reverse course as soon as I saw what a drunk mess my bigger sister was, but before I could make it more than half a step, she caught me in one of her bear hugs.

“Hehehe... you’re so cuuuteee... ahh...” And now she was drooling all over my new coat. Great. I looked over to my younger sister and asked her to help me with my eyes, but she just stuck out her tongue and ditched me.

“Hey!” If she heard me, she didn’t show it and went over to some of the other hunters further away from us. My mother also just smiled at me when I tried to get her support, so I just awkwardly ate dinner while hopefully keeping the food out of my sister’s hair and clothes. Once I was done, I absentmindedly brushed my fingers through her long hair until I heard her loudly snoring into my belly.

After somehow getting her arms to release me, I said good night to my mother and made my way into our family tent, and shortly after, was fast asleep.

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