First Sorcerer Read online

“Of course not, my young fool,” she cackled at him. “Do you think that all fledgling Sorcerers have this much mana to draw on? Most have less than half what you possess. If your mana grows as you do, your spirals may one day be truly terrifying.

  “In any case,” she went on, “no matter how powerful you are, the greatest spells require more SP than you could possibly hold. Lythienne used to have a dozen spells in creation at once; she would spend time developing each, but she knew it could take her years just to finish even one, much less all of them.”

  She stopped and gestured at his slowly returning spirals. “What you have here, now, is where most Sorcerers begin,” she explained. “With this level of power, it would have taken you three or four attempts just to complete Mana Bolt; Mana Armor and Mana Shield would have taken much longer. When a Sorcerer pours SP into a spell but does not complete it, it simply holds the mana and waits, incomplete, until the Sorcerer can once more attempt to complete it. It does not matter how many attempts it takes; the spell-form is patient. All that is needed is that you return to the vision occasionally, perhaps every few months or so, even if you add no SP to it.”

  She shook her head and glanced again at his growing spirals. “If I am being honest,” she said slowly, “I should admit that Empowerment is usually a spell taught in stages. Lythienne’s instructions were to teach you Agility Empowerment only; had I done so, you would have completed the spell in one sitting.

  “However,” she finished, “you have shown remarkable ability in developing spells and have a deep pool of SP to draw from, so I decided to teach you all four of the Empowerment forms at once. Based on what you have achieved so far, it should take you two more attempts to complete the spell.”

  A little awed, Jeff sat back and waited for his SP to refill before delving back into the spell. As the elf said, the image waited patiently for him, humming with the SP he already poured into it and seemingly hungry for more. He obliged, replaying all four forms of the spell again and again until his SP slowed to a trickle. After letting the power regenerate, he dove back into it. Just as Lythienne predicted, on the third attempt, the spell finally coalesced, filling him with energy. Eagerly, he examined his new notification:

  “Awesome,” he whispered. “Although, I can only hold it for about a minute and a half before it kills me, so that’s less awesome, I guess.”

  Lythienne nodded. “So, you see the utility but also the danger in the Spell,” she affirmed. “Keep that danger firmly in mind if you must use it, for you will be tempted to hold it as long as possible.

  “Now, child,” she finished, “you may ask me one last question.”

  Jeff had been considering this carefully. He wasn’t sure if he would see her again after this, and he wanted to make his last question a good one: something he wouldn’t be able to discover easily on his own. “What makes a great Sorcerer,” he asked quietly. “Not just a powerful one, or a dangerous one. What makes a Sorcerer legendary?”

  Lythienne blinked in surprise for several moments. “Do me a favor,” she said at last. “Remind me of this question if ever I call you ‘fool’ again, child. Hundreds of years, dozens of students, and never was Lythienne asked this.”

  She walked over and placed her hand on the side of Jeff’s head. “There are three things that make a Sorcerer legendary,” she told him softly. “Not mighty spells or endless mana on which to draw; these are much simpler. The greatest Sorcerers possessed imagination, passion, and great courage.

  “Imagination is obvious,” she continued, dropping her hand. “A Sorcerer’s magic is limited only by their imagination: if you can picture it, fully and completely, to the last detail, eventually you can create it. Wizards and Warlocks can cast mighty spells, but a Sorcerer’s magic can accomplish anything: from healing the sick to leveling nations, if only they can imagine it so.

  “Passion is less obvious,” she went on, her eyes gleaming as she spoke, “but it is, perhaps, equally as important. To become a Sorcerer of legend, you must be devoted to it, to love the power of creation and the use of your Spells. You must embrace every aspect of it, the good and the bad. You will never have the Spell list of a Wizard, but the spells you have? You must cherish them, so you know them like no Wizard ever can. In so doing, you will make them far greater in scope and power than they could ever become.”

  She turned away as she spoke the next words. “Courage is, perhaps, the hardest part,” she admitted. “But, without it, nothing else will matter. For Sorcerers were created for a singular purpose: to drive back the Darkness and protect the People of the Light. When the power of the Wizards was insufficient to protect the Alliance, the Sorcerers first rose to challenge the Night. It is a daunting task, and one that many Sorcerers failed over the millennia, child. Fear deadens the imagination and cools the fire of passion: a Sorcerer who allows fear to control them no longer fights for the Light but hides from the Darkness. And when that happens, the Darkness wins, and the Light begins to fade.

  “That is the secret, child,” she finished. “Indulge your imagination; embrace your passion; face your fate with courage, and you will one day join the greatest Sorcerers of all in the legends of this shadowed world.”

  Jeff listened quietly, pondering her words with deliberation. He felt there was more to her words than she had said, but what it was escaped him. Still, he could sense her utter conviction as she spoke, and he resolved to do his best to follow that mantra. Imagination. Passion. Courage, he thought softly. I will remember.

  “And now, Aranos Evenshade,” she spoke, using his character’s full name for the first time, “you will return and learn the truth of my words. When you pass through the Great Seal, you will know what it is to be a Sorcerer, and why we stand against the Darkness. Before you do, my advice is this: know your Spells. Embrace them, as I said, and learn them as intimately as you can. If you do not, you will fail, and all of this will have been for naught. Go, now, with my blessing…and good luck.”

  Jeff opened his mouth to speak, but he felt himself being ejected from the mindscape. He watched as the figure of the ancient else dwindled, until she was obscured by the white mists of his mind. He opened his eyes and realized that, as he feared, his mana platform had failed while he was in the mindscape. His arm burned with pain, and he realized that he was dangling by one hand, his palm seemingly glued to the violet orb. As the light within it died to a flicker, his hand came free, and he fell…

  Chapter 7

  Jeff’s vision slowly returned as he respawned before the now-familiar obelisk. He slumped to the floor, feeling overwhelmed and, frankly, a little depressed. The spirit of the ancient elf had been his only mentor and, while not without her faults, had given him tremendous gifts. He hoped that the fading of that last orb had not also been the fading of that spirit, but he had a sinking feeling it was. She had been put here for a single purpose: to train a new Sorcerer, and having done so, her reason for existing had ended. The thought of all that knowledge and wisdom vanishing saddened him to no end.

  He considered retreating to his mindscape, to train and perhaps to escape from the encroaching melancholy, but he remembered the mantra Lythienne had given him: Imagination, Passion, Courage. She had been right: Courage was the hardest part of that. It would be easy to try and hide in his mindscape, but he owed the woman more than that.

  She had advised him to train his Spells, but also to embrace them and learn them intimately. That’s what I was doing with Forge Mana, he realized. I was playing with it, seeing what it could do. I need to do that with my other spells, as well. That’s the Passion part she was talking about.

  Resolved, he concentrated and easily formed a glowing staff with his Forge Mana skill before turning away from the Trials and heading back up to the surface. He needed to play with his Spells, and that meant he needed something to play with. It was time to go hunting.

  First, though, he realized that he had completed the last quest, and that meant there should be a notification waiting for him:


  He ignored the quest notification for the moment – that failure penalty seemed pretty harsh despite the awesome XP reward – and focused on the excitement of leveling up. He wasn’t a piddly level 1 Sorcerer anymore: he was level 2 now! Which, sure, still wasn’t epic, but it was better than Level 1. Interested to see his new bonuses, he pulled up his full Status sheet:

  Not bad, he congratulated himself with a smile, feeling some of his depression slide away. His SP were almost at 400, thanks to his Mana Well perk, and his LP had finally broken 100. He considered his Stats, wondering where to put his points. He could certainly boost his End: more LP was never a bad thing. If he ever put his Archery Skill to use, he’d definitely want more Dex, but that was more of a long-term project. Of course, putting points into Int or Wis would yield benefits to his class, but he’d never been a min-maxer in games: he preferred a balanced character to one that was totally lopsided. Besides, he had a feeling there could be consequences to being such a one-dimensional character in this game.

  He decided that the level bonus to Int and Wis was enough for right now: his SP were already really high, according to Lythienne, and he had a lot of Skills, Perks and Titles that boosted his Spell Power plenty. He dropped a point into End to boost his Stamina regen and LP, and another into Agil just to bring it to above the human norm. The last point he saved, figuring he could add it in if something was needed later.

  Happy with his choices – or, at least, not unhappy with them – he headed out of the Traveler’s Trials and into the Forest above. He breathed deeply as he stepped into the fresh air, letting the energy of the woodland pass through him and revitalize him. He touched the soil, drawing nourishment from it, before rising and scanning the area. The woods were filled with the tracks of animals, and he absently categorized them in his mind. He ignored the smaller animals like squirrels and rabbits – although he wondered if, perhaps, there were horned rabbits on Ka like in those old stories he loved – and focused on larger predators.

  As he moved silently through the forest, his Trackless ability allowing him to move without sound or disturbance, he noticed the track of a large, silver bear. Although he was tempted to Track it, the trail was old and, besides, in most games bears were fairly dangerous animals. He doubted he’d be able to take one alone. Maybe if he had Phil and a full party… He’d have to see if he could convince Phil to come back here and do some hunting with him. He’d been doing pretty well on his own, so far, but he knew that having a party would make things much easier. The Trials, for example, would have been totally different if he had a dedicated tank to keep enemies off him: he could have stood behind his meat shield and picked the bats off from the safety of the passageway or let the tank run ahead of him to clear a path through the wolves. He might have been able to clear each of those Trials in one attempt if he’d had the right kind of help.

  There were certainly character types that functioned well alone – the Warden Class he had been offered during character generation seemed like one of those – but they tended to be jacks-of-all-trades. They could do a lot, but they weren’t great at any of it. From what he recalled of the description, a Warden could heal, just not as well as a Divine character like a Cleric or Druid. They could do ranged DPS – damage per second – but not the way a Ranger or Archer would. They probably had some melee and arcane abilities, but they would never have the staying power of a Warrior Class or the Spell Power of a Wizard.

  No, while it had been fun going through the Trials alone, conquering them through trial-and-error – pun absolutely intended, he snickered in his mind – if he wanted to really go far in the game, he’d need a party, and that meant finding Phil. He had no people skills in real life, and with his low Charisma, it would probably be worse in the game. Although, I guess my Charisma has gone up quite a bit, he mused. I wonder how that works with other players? Am I more attractive? Are the AI’s going to make me sound more convincing than I really am? Will they actually influence the players to make me seem more trustworthy? Not sure I like that last idea…

  In any case, Phil was the people person. Assuming he wasn’t stuck in a Class training Quest the way Jeff was, he had likely already gathered a party and was out farming monsters and gaining levels. While Jeff was proud of his new level, for all he knew, he was way behind the curve: he had grown, but mostly through Skills and Spells, not really levels, which were usually the real indicator of ability. Higher levels meant more LP, more SP, and more potent abilities.

  And yet, he mused, he wasn’t sure if Levels were really going to be all that big of a deal in Singularity, at least not if his progress so far was much of an indicator. Since he first landed at the reflecting pool, he’d managed to improve every one of his Stats by at least 2 – his Wis had increased by 9! – more than tripled his SP, and increased his LP and Stamina significantly. Most of those boosts had come from acquiring Skills, Perks, and Titles. His level had, honestly, only been a small boost to his abilities comparatively.

  If Skills are that important, he considered, I need to focus on getting more of them. I still haven’t gotten Stealth, or any kind of Identify Skill. Heck, I haven’t even really tried to Identify anything, have I? He had a feeling that levels weren’t as big of a deal in Singularity as they were in other games. He needed to master his Spells, grind his Skills, and maybe figure out how to get some new ones, even if they were Untrained.

  He stilled as his nose picked up a scent that his stolen memories easily identified for him: a great wolf, only recently passed through the area. Great wolves are fierce and territorial, the memories informed him. They are larger, stronger, and more cunning than regular wolves. They usually hunt in packs of 2-5, so this one must be a lesser male trying to establish a new territory. Their fur is valuable and useful for garments and armor. He shook his head, amazed at the depth of the knowledge he had been given.

  Normally, a pack of wolves would probably be beyond his capabilities, but a single wolf? That, he might be able to handle, if he was careful and used his Spells and Skills wisely. That meant he needed to spend some time experimenting with them, and for that, he needed to be somewhere a little safer. He looked around until he found a tree that looked like a likely candidate for climbing: with his more advanced Stats, scrambling up into the lowest branches was a simple enough matter. Wouldn’t do to be caught by the animal I’m trying to hunt, now would it? he thought wryly as he nestled into a crook between branches, his back to the trunk.

  First, he called up his Mana Bolt. The ball of energy tumbled over his outstretched palm, glowing white with flickers of prismatic energy. It was a simple spell: you point it at a target and shoot. He concentrated, firing it at a distant tree, and it impacted against the bark with a flash and small boom. He repeated the exercise, watching the Spell more carefully this time. Mana rose from his hand, swirled into a sphere, and more energy was used launching it. Upon impact with any solid object, it burst, doing minor damage.

  It’s not really very efficient, is it? he mused thoughtfully. Much of the Spell’s energy was lost in the impact explosion: the light, heat, and sound were all wasted power that could have been directed into the target, instead. I mean, it looks cool, he admitted, but do I care how it looks, or how it works? Well, probably both, honestly. Still, if he could increase the efficiency of the spell, he should be able to do a lot more damage for the same amount of SP…shouldn’t he?

  He closed his eyes and mentally examined his spell. Why was so much of the energy lost that way? Why did it explode like that? As he delved into the image he used to create the spell, he found his answer: because that’s how he had imagined it. When he was creating the spell, he had envisioned it bursting against his enemies because, honestly, that’s Lythienne’s had done.

  However, as the woman had said herself, a Sorcerer was limited only by their imagination: surely, he could imagine a better way for the spell to function. He sunk into the vision, feeling the mana rising from his center, coursing through his arm, and ga
thering in his hand. He saw the orb of energy appear and imagined hurling it at an enemy, but when it impacted, he tried to will it to burst forward only, into the target. To his dismay, it simply exploded. He tried again and again, but each time, the ball of power exploded equally in all directions, wasting much of the power.

  I think it’s the shape, he realized at last. It’s shaped like a sphere, so when it releases its energy, it radiates equally in all directions. That’s kind of the nature of a sphere. I need it to release directionally, so I need a shape that will focus the power forward.

  His first instinct was to use a cone, with the base facing toward he enemy, but it took a great deal of energy to keep the shape stable, especially in flight. The flat surface tended to wobble as the air rushed past, and it missed the target more often than it hit. He inverted the cone, but while that improved the flight path, even more energy was lost, since the cone tended to collapse toward the base, away from the target.

  What I need is for the energy to penetrate first, he concluded. If it explodes within the target, almost all the energy will go directly into damage. So, I need a shape with penetration. He started by summoning the original sphere, then considered it appraisingly. If he wanted it to penetrate an opponent, he needed it to be solid, like his mana-forged items, and he needed it to be pointed, like a spear…or, he realized, like an arrow. He released the orb and instead imagined his mana filling an arrow-shaped mold, compressing it until it was almost solid.

  He tried projecting it, but just like his platform, it moved at about the speed of a walk. Yeah, that’s not gonna work, he grumbled discontentedly. He tried again, but while the arrow-shape formed easily enough, he couldn’t launch it at an opponent. Why? he whined silently. Why does the Mana Bolt fly so fast, but the solid arrow move like a constipated sloth?