Magic
Arcane spellcasters draw upon an energy field created by all living things, known as mana. Mana permeates the world, generated by vitality, emotion, and thoughts. It is a capricious thing, governed by forces as lofty as the movement of the stars, and as lowly as the base emotions of the practitioner. Mages devote their lives to the study of its mystery, and all of them pass on without claiming any true mastery of it.
The essential process of casting a spell is thus:
- Draw upon latent mana and store it within oneself, or an implement.
- Form the thought-pattern of the desired spell, using such things as sacred geometry and power words as a form of mnemonic device to form complex thoughts quickly.
- Release the energy toward its intended target.
Drawing Energy
It is a common misconception that mages store mana within themselves, and draw upon it to cast their spells. The evidence that leads to this false conclusion is that, after casting many spells or a few very powerful spells in rapid succession, a mage becomes weary and fatigued. This is a false attribution of symptoms to a cause.
In fact, a mage can draw upon his own energy, but it is a last ditch effort, the desperate grasp of a doomed practitioner. Drawing upon one's own life energy has the obvious effect of extinguishing one's own life. Thus, such as act is usually known as a "death curse", a spell cast only by a mage who is sure he will die anyway, and wishes to bring retribution on his foes. In practice, death curses are used for many things, and rarely are actually used to curse one's murderer. They exist more as a deterrent--a form of Mutually Assured Destruction--to inhibit frequent spell-duels that might otherwise arise between mages.
When a mage casts a spell, he draws upon latent mana in the world around him. The amount of energy per unit of time depends on many things, but perhaps none so much as his willpower. Once gathered, the energy fills the mage, and this is not without side effects. Life energy powers all living forces; the mage's body and mind are not excluded from this. His heart will race, his blood will burn, his mind will accelerate; it's not altogether an unpleasant thing--far from it--but it taxes the mind and body heavily to experience even for a few moments.
When a mage must channel a lot of energy in a short time, either in many small spells or few large ones, his mind and body will be taxed by the process, leading to the strain and fatigue any battlemage will complain of afterwards. Veteran mages may have a greater tolerance for these effects, but they will fell even the mightiest archmage eventually.
To get around this, mages make use of implements designed to serve as a focus for gathered energy, instead of their own bodies. First among these are staves.
Staves
A mage's staff is no mere bludgeoning stick, but a finely-tuned receptacle of energy, a tool for storing, mixing, and shaping energies prior to their use. Conceptually, it is not unlike a witch's cauldron, in which she might pour and mix many things, stirring and brewing them until they are ready to serve in her alchemical concoctions.
Staves also serve a useful purpose in filtering energies, for not all mana is interchangeable. Some energies are best used in fire magicks, some in healing magicks, some only by certain kinds of mage, etc. A staff can help filter the energy as it is drawn, increasing the purity of the final mix, and effectively increasing the speed at which a mage can draw useful mana.
Shaping the Spell
Up until now, we have only discussed the first component of spellcasting: drawing in energy. The second phase, shaping the spell, is equally important.
When a mage has gathered the energy he needs, he must then imagine the spell. It is not so easy as it sounds. While it has its own intelligence, magic does not "think" in the way a human mind does; it needs to be carefully guided to achieve the intended effect, for otherwise it becomes unpredictable, and may have unintended--and possibly harmful--side effects.
Imagine, if you will, a pitched battle, in which many combatants are moving, swinging weapons, and dodging blows. The air is filled with smoke and fire from spells and magic weapons. Shouts fill your ears, and flashes of light and thunder from other spellcasters buffet your senses. In this milieu, you wish to cast a fireball spell.
In your mind, you must picture, in perfect clarity, the sacred geometries attuned to elemental fire, which themselves are shortcuts to the unfathomable complexity of the planes in the cosmos. You must invoke these symbols to create a portal to the Elemental Plane of Fire. It must be precisely the right size and shape, for too large a fireball might harm you or your allies, and too small would be ineffective. Your imagination has no frame of reference for physical properties such as size and position, so you must define the spell in the more absolute terms of mathematics and geometry. You must think in three dimensions, for any aperture connected two three-dimensional realms must itself exist in three dimensions.
All this must be done in mere seconds, for not only would it be harmful to store the pent-up energy within you for much longer, but the battlefield situation is changing rapidly, and a delay might mean mis-targeting the spell, or might simply mean you acted too late to save your allies and yourself from certain doom.
The above process describes the casting of one of the simplest spells known to most mages. Dealing with more esoteric subjects, such as transmutation, divination, and teleportation requires exponentially higher degrees of complexity.
Obviously, this process is not ideal. There are too many variables in complex spellcasting, and the concentration requirements quickly become superhuman as one advances in his craft. Thus, man, crafty as he is, has devised tools to aid in this process.
Ritual Casting
The simplest technique applied to the shaping process is ritual casting. A ritual is essentially a very slow and methodical spell, which carefully separates all components of the shape in both time and space.
The Trap
The first and most essential component of a ritual is a trap. A magic circle (or other geometry more specific to certain tasks), properly crafted, can trap energies in state, the better for you to slowly and gradually refine their shape and intent. Instead of drawing the energy into yourself, or a battle-ready implement, you let it flow into the trap, freeing yourself of the strain it would cause, though slightly lessening the precision and endurance of your control on it.
Ritual Cleansing
Most rituals, especially difficult ones, begin with cleansing of the body, mind, and spirit. As discussed above, mana is affected by all aspects of life; your own emotions, sensations, and feelings, while small in relation to such things as stellar motion, are much closer to the spell, and thus can affect it just as much, if not more. Casting a spell in combat is typically done in a relatively pure state, brought on by the mage's own nervous system in response to danger, and the energy is capture in his body and mind for only moments. In ritual casting, the energy lingers for minutes, hours, or more, and is not so focused as it is within a practitioner or his implements. Thus, even small impurities can have a profound effect on the spell.
To elaborate, imagine you have just completed a long, hard day's march overland. You are hungry, weary, and cold. Your skin is clammy, your feet and legs ache, and your back is stiff. You cannot help but imagine the comfort of a warm bath, a hot meal, and a long night's sleep. Instead, you attempt a ritual.
You may imagine that you could overcome such things, as your willpower is not so feeble as to be distracted by such petty concerns. But magic is not just a thing of the mind, but also of the body. The pains and weariness of your body will poison the energies, making them as feeble and weary as your own form. The distraction of such pains upon your mind, while perhaps absent in your conscious thought, remain present and vivid in your subconscious mind, and will unavoidable affect the energy you channel.
The energy inevitably must flow through you before being trapped, and even within the trap, each time you touch it to shape it, you recontaminate it with all the woes of your body and mind. There is simply no way to escape these effects, save to remove or mitigate them prior to ritual casting as much as possible.
Components
Once energy has been channeled into the trap, in as pure a form as possible, it must be shaped. In simple rituals, this may be a purely mental process. In practice, it rarely is. Regardless of the practitioner's skill, the use of verbal, somatic, and material components reduces the strain and increases the efficiency of the shaping process. For the most complex and difficult rituals, such components are required, as no mortal mage could replace them with pure willpower.
Verbal Components
Verbal components are incantations, phrases, or power words, typically repeated many times. This repetition helps align the energies trapped within the circle, as surely as a blacksmith's many repetitive foldings of a blade. They may take the form of supplications to a higher power to aid in the casting, or a statement of intent. To arcane spellcasters, this is considered an archaic practice; the modern preference is to speak words of magic, crafted for a specific purpose, and used for no other. When not specifically trying to reason with a higher power, the meaning of the words is unimportant; rather, it is their intent that shapes the spell, and thus, it is best when the specific words are rarely, if ever, used for any other purpose than the ones for which the ritual is intended. This explains why mages prefer ancient and dead languages for rituals, if not languages that have never been used for any other purpose but spellcasting.
Somatic Components
Anything involving the body is considered a somatic component, though a strict definition would limit this to actions and movements which directly affect the shape of the spell. Many practitioners take up certain positions designed to aid in meditation; this is more to limit impurities (see Ritual Channeling, above) than to directly shape the spell.
A better example of a somatic component is the common use of circling. A practitioner might pace around the trap in a concentric circle. This is usually done at a constant radius and pace, possibly while reciting verbal components or invoking material components. Traditional ritualists insist that the direction is vitally important--for instance, that clockwise (or right-hand) rotation is best for constructive, defensive, and healing magics, while counter-clockwise (or left-hand) rotation is best for destructive and harmful magicks. The modern school of thought is divided as to whether or not this matters, in practice; the only common consensus seems to be that it does matter, but only if the practitioner believes it does.
Some rituals, which modern mages might describe as primitive, utilize dances, gyrations, and even sexual activity (typically involving multiple practitioners or supplicants) as a component. It is debatable whether or not this is a somatic component, or simply a way of evoking certain energies to be trapped.
Material Components
Anything of physical nature that is not itself alive can be used as a material component. Traditional thinking divides these into two groups: natural and artificial.
Natural components are anything of nature, such as stones, blood, animal viscera, or plant matter (such as flowers, leaves, stems, roots, etc). These are often used in the "definition" portion of the spell's shape. All physical objects are combinations, in some proportion, of earth, water, and air, so some example of these elements is typically used in all rituals to give the practitioner an example of each to help define the ritual's target.
Fire is a very important component to most rituals. While it is relatively rare in nature, it has a strong affinity with magic itself. The other three essential elements are stable, never changing form unless acted upon by man. Fire is not a constant thing, but rather a force which changes other things. Wood may be burned, separating it into pure earth (ash and char), water (steam), and air (smoke). Magic acts in a similar manner to fire; it acts to change natural elements and energies, itself existing only in the moment of transition.
Thus, fire is used in almost every ritual casting. Its most common form is the humble candle, which produces a steady and even flame, and can be easily positioned to match the geometry of the ritual. Traditional casters may argue about the best use of different colors of candle, but modern mages typically insist that it is the fire, not the wax, that is most important to the spell, and that, if anything, the color of the flame, as influenced by complex alchemy, should be considered more vital than the color of the wax.
Artificial components are anything made by man: tools, weapons, anything purposefully shaped by man to a specific purpose. For these components, it is that purpose that matters most. When the practitioner is defining the purpose and intent of the spell, it is necessary to have at hand one or more analogs to form that definition.
Contributors
It is possible to have multiple contributors to a given ritual. There must always be a primary caster, who is the first and last to touch the magic, and typically the most accomplished practitioner. The remainder may add additional willpower, shaping ability, concentration capacity, and raw energy to the mix.
Of other contributors, there may be no more than twelve, to make a total of thirteen contributing spellcasters. It is not clear why this number seems an inviolable constant, but it is accepted.
"Contributors" must be spellcasters, capable of channeling and shaping energy, if not necessarily as ably as the leader. There may be other participants, who can provide anything from aid in physically transporting material components, or assistance in the needs of the practitioners, that they need not lose their concentration, to energies, such as those created by large masses chanting, praying, dancing, or other such common uses to which crowds of participants are put in rituals.
Modern mages debate the usefulness of non-contributing participants, whose effects are vague at best, and distracting at worst, and their experiments have shown that the core 13 contributors have a much more profound effect on the ritual than any number of additional participants. Of course, there have been instances where mages wished to complete a spell that was beyond the ability of even thirteen of their number to complete. And naturally, man has found a clever solution.
Inspired by the epicircular motion of the planets, mages developed a tiered ritual-casting system, whereby multiple circles of 13 conduct smaller, more focused rituals, to produce bodies of shaped energy meant to become part of a larger spell. The leader of each of these circles would carry the shaped spell to another, larger circle (known as a Great Circle), and combine them to form a greater spell than any of the lesser circles might have. Thus, up to 169 casters may contribute to a ritual.
Such rituals are devilishly complex, as they must be divisible into up to 13 parts, all of which must be within the capacity of the lesser circles, and of their leaders to transport into the final spell. The final spell must be imagined in such a way that it can be built from these components. The skill and concentration of the Great Circle participants must be exceptional, as combining such powerful works without destroying them and unleashing terrible side effects is no small feat.
Though difficult to imagine, it is even possible for up to 2,197 mages to contribute to a Grand Circle, made up of the leaders of 13 Great Circles. It would be an epic feat even to assemble so many like-minded mages, let alone conduct the actual ritual, and no doubt its final effects would be catastrophically powerful.
Wands and Other Implements
While ritual casting is the most powerful tool for shaping magic, it is obviously unsuitable for tense combat situations. A different solution, one more easily and quickly deployed, must be found. Naturally, it has.
The wand is a relatively new invention among spellcasters. Though it has existed for many centuries, it follows millennia of older tools, such as cauldrons, orbs, and fetishes, which, while they still have their uses today, are generally out of favor among modern mages.
The wand works along the same principle as a staff, in that it is a shaft of wood, stone, or metal, whose shape (both internal and external) has an effect on energy that is passed through it. However, lacking the mass and magical gravitas of a staff, a wand is unsuitable as the focus for large amount of energy.
Instead, wands are crafted to a very narrow range of purposes, such as producing fire spells. The practitioner forges the very structure of the wand, both physical and magical, to the intended purpose, so that when he channels energy through it, the wand will do some or all of the work in shaping that energy to the desired effect.
Since shaping is the most demanding phase of spellcasting, in terms of concentration, the usefulness of a wand to mage in combat cannot be overstated. With practice, a battlemage can wield a wand to shoot flames or other battle magicks as easily as a crossbowman fires quarrels.
The only disadvantage to wands is that they must be crafted to a narrow range of purposes, such as shooting jets of fire, or causing things to become invisible. This is easily surmountable by foreseeing what effects one might need, then crafting a wand for each set of spells, and keeping them all at hand in battle.
Wands also help tremendously in spell targeting (discussed more in Releasing the Spell, below). Any spell whose effect is not strictly limited to the practitioner's self must be directed toward its target. Though a finger or hand is an adequate tool for the task, a wand is far better, for it is not only more pure as a pointer of direction--being a solid shaft whose internal structure aligns with the outer--but is also crafted the purpose of pointing, unlike a hand, which is crafted to the purpose of grasping and manipulating.
Other implements retain their usefulness for niche applications. Orbs are often used to produce radial effects, candles for those that depend upon spreading light, tomes for spells that involve the transfer of knowledge, etc. One notable exception to the rule that wands reign supreme is the use of Spellblades by some mages who blend swordplay with magic. Eldritch Knights, and other sects, learn to use a sword, or other weapon, as their casting implement--no small feat, given the many other purposes to which the weapon is crafted, and the inability to alter its internal consistency to suit magic, rather than physics.
Releasing the Spell
The third phase of spellcasting is the shortest--lasting only a single moment--but perhaps the most crucial. It presents the greatest opportunity to misfire the spell, causing unintended consequences, and is the moment of greatest concentration and strain in the process of casting a spell.
Releasing a spell (also known as "realizing" the spell) is the most difficult thing for any mage to learn. Any apprentice can learn to draw upon energy, and even to shape it. However, while imagining the effect of a spell is a natural process, releasing it is not. The human mind is not born with the ability to extend beyond the body that contains it; it is an ability that must be learned, and one not easy to teach. Infants lack even the basic awareness that the world they see is not merely in their own mind. When they grow, they learn that the outside world is separate from their internal one; and yet, to truly become a mage, one must learn how that is not entirely accurate.
A guiding principle of magic is the Sympathy Principle, often stated as "as above, so below". It means that all things are reflected in their opposite, or that all parts of a whole are like to one another, as described in the Transitive Property of Mathematics. This principle, when applied to spellcasting, explains how a practitioner crosses the threshold between his own mind and the outside world: in short, he doesn't. He simply must realize that there is no threshold, that his mind already exists in the outside world, and vice versa.
As simple as it is to explain, it takes some a lifetime or more to master the concept. There is no one way to teach it, no accepted solution for mastering it; the technique of realizing a spell is the indefatigable and ineffable barrier between a true mage and a lifelong apprentice.
It is worthy of note that a practitioner who cannot realize spells can still contribute to rituals, as only the leader must be able to realize the final spell. Many practitioners (in many cases, a majority) have not mastered realization, and thus, for them, contributing to rituals is the only way they can actually cast spells.
Once the technique is mastered, a practitioner becomes a true spellcaster. But simply being able to realize a spell is not the same thing as being able to do it right every time, taking into account all other variables.
Realizing a spell requires a moment of what many mages describe as "infinite" concentration. Inarguably, it is a lot of concentration, and represents a mage's most vulnerable moment. Despite the circumstances, such as the many dangers in a mage's environment during combat, the mage must completely let go of all awareness of anything but the spell itself. Some theorize that this is because knowledge of either the outside world (as reflected in one's senses) or the inside world (the presence of one's subconscious thoughts and emotions) creates a sort of anchor that prevents the transition from the inside mind to the outside world, and that only a single point of concentration, bereft of those anchors, can penetrate the threshold, much as a needle may not pass through cloth if one or both ends is clogged with debris.
As if it were not trying enough to realize a spell, a further feat of concentration is required once the spell crosses the threshold. The moment the spell is released, it begins to come apart. All of the careful shaping and imagining begins to fray, as the tightly-bound energies repel one another, seeking to return to their natural, chaotic state. It requires an effort of will to keep the spell intact until it arrives at its destination.
In the moments after the spell is realized, the mage must reawaken to his senses, gain awareness of the spell that is now outside himself, and may take a very different form when experienced through his senses, and not his thoughts, and guide the spell as it flows forth.
It is also important to realize that releasing a spell from one's mind does not mean it has exited one's body. Even a spell that exclusively affects one's own body must be released from the core of the mind before it enters the body. Likewise, a spell intended to be launched far from the mage will pass through the body on its way forth.
The natural tendency of any energy released from a single point is to radiate. When targeting a spell, this is the exact opposite of the desired outcome. Thus, just after the spell exits the mage's mind, he must exert will on it to confine its motion to the desired direction. The easiest way to do this is to rely upon the body's shape as a guiding force. It is relatively easy for a mage to channel a released spell down the length of his arm, to exit from the point of a single finger, as opposed to emanating in all directions from his entire body.
Such focus, while infinitely superior to a diffused radiation, is still far from perfect. A jet of flame directed from one's fingertip will soon spread into a cone, much as a jet of water from a hose will spray wildly through a tight aperture. Such a jet might have lethal cutting power at three inches, but be utterly harmless at thirty feet.
To further aid the focusing process, mages use tools, such as wands and staves, which help focus the released energy much as the stock of a crossbow or the barrel of a cannon helps straighten the flight of an arrow or cannonball.
Of course, not all targeted magic must be projected forth in such a crude manner. Many spells are targeted at their subjects not through a spatial relation (such as a straight line), but through a sympathetic connection. One might cast a spell into a proxy at hand, simply allowing the energy to flow through one's hands into the proxy, and thus would the spell affect the subject to which the proxy is bound.