It's been three years since I woke up in this now familiar body of a pup.
Turns out, wolfkin children grow up much faster than humans. My infancy was unremarkable and lasted about a year, but after that, my growth exploded. Even though I was only four, I towered over human children my age and looked more like I was eight or nine. First I got worried this meant I wouldn't live as long, but Uncle Flo told me wolfkin often outlive humans. He would pat his chest and grin baring his fangs, saying our active lifestyle of chasing prey through forests and feasting on fresh game and herbs keeps us healthy, unlike human peasants who slouch in taverns eating preserved slop most days.
Incidentally, I found out Uncle Flo was an adoptive parent and not my biological father. One autumn night, I saw him looking at an old leather journal by candlelight, his rough finger tracing faded drawings of a wolfkin couple. I asked about them and he just told me. It seems my fur color came from my father, while my light-blue eyes and the crescent markings around them were from my mother.
Nobody knows what happened to my parents, a pair of renowned rangers whom Uncle Flo owed a life-debt. According to him, they weren't the type to abandon their child. His amber eyes clouded when he mentioned them, massive paws gripping his mug until the wood creaked. "If they never came back for you, pup," he'd rumble, "it means they're simply not around anymore."
Aunt Estrah, who also knew my parents, decided to stay with us after they disappeared. She was an elf with curly brown hair down to her chest and green eyes like spring moss, always looking amused. For elves, a few years probably feels like a weekend to most humans, so her choice to stay wasn't just out of selfless kindness. She made the most of every moment and very much enjoyed playing with me, teasing Uncle Flo, telling me stories about ancient heroes and kingdoms, after she annoyed my uncle some more. Honestly, it feels like she is in denial about it, but she is clearly in love with the guy and doesn't know how to express her feelings beyond playful torment. I wonder if I'm the only one who sees it.
Despite her extremely extroverted personality, Aunt Estrah was a well-known researcher at the Morne Grand Academy, and so every afternoon she transformed our cottage into a proper schoolroom. My paws often cramped from hours of practice in grammar and arithmetic. That last part was obviously easy for me, but once she realized I was keeping up with her rigorous classes, she just kept increasing their intensity by adding history, geography and these days, something called the Primordial language.
Apparently, it is spoken by fairies, mermaids, and even dragons. The local language used by humans, elves, dwarves, and beastkin was very different from anything back home, but at least it felt similar to French. Phonetically speaking, that is. It was obviously not based on Latin, and it had a completely different writing and numeral system. Still, three years were enough for me to pick it up, one word at a time. The primordial language, however, was something else entirely. It was so alien to me that it felt like it wasn't even designed for my vocal cords, but over time, I absorbed some bits of it as well.
And so days flowed in a simple routine. In the mornings, I went with Uncle Flo to track animal prints and learn about local herbs and mushrooms. In the afternoons, I studied with Aunt Estrah. Later, I spent time in the clearing behind our cottage, jumping from mossy stone to mossy stone to practice my balance, strength, and flexibility. Uncle Flo watched me tumble and leap and thought I was just playing around, but I was actually training my body and going over various fighting techniques from my past life in my mind, even practicing shadowboxing when he wasn't looking.
I learned several martial arts in my past life, like Aikido and Taekwondo, but Krav Maga seemed the most useful right now. It is a practical fighting system designed for self-defense, law enforcement officers, and the military. Most of the techniques start the same way. If someone attacks you with a knife or an axe, you first stop the danger to your life by disarming your opponent. After that, you decide what to do next. Civilians are told to kick your attacker in the groin a few times and run away to safety, either alone or with someone they are protecting. Police are supposed to detain the attacker, and soldiers are trained to eliminate the threat entirely.
Because of this philosophy, the same techniques are taught to civilians and professionals alike by the same instructors. Krav Maga doesn't assume your opponent will use the same movements as you do, like most traditional martial arts, and there are no restrictions on hitting weak spots, which is a big no-no in competitions. This makes it effective in fighting against someone much bigger than you or numerous opponents at once. Overall, this was perfect for me, and while my body was still small and weak, at the very least I could recount and etch these movements into my muscle memory, preparing for a world I knew held dangers my adoptive family were actively shielding me from… or so I thought before both of them suddenly decided it was time to expand my education into something more hands-on.
——
Aunt Estrah poked her head through the doorway, her green eyes twinkling. "Hey, Zar, come outside. Today, we start practicing magic."
My quill clattered against the inkwell as I bolted from my desk, knocking over my chair. My tail swished so hard it swept a stack of parchment to the floor. I bounded past her in three leaps, my claws skidding on the wooden porch outside as I spun around, ears perked forward, waiting.
Finally, magic! I have seen Aunt Estrah using it on occasion. I knew that I also started to develop a feeling for sensing magic ever since the first day I met her, and she did that weird thing with her rings. It was like a 6th sense, I couldn't put to words how we smell, hear, or see things for the life of me, but in that same way, as soon as I was born in this world, I could sense spots of concentrated magic all around me, and now, finally, I will learn how to control it.
"My, my," she said, tucking a curl behind her pointed ear. "I haven't seen you move that fast since Florent made berry tarts last solstice."
I straightened my tunic, trying to appear dignified despite my heaving chest. "Yes, magic is very cool. When do we start?"
Aunt Estrah rolled her eyes and flicked my ear playfully. "Right now, you silly boy. Why else would I have called you?" She settled cross-legged onto a bench and continued. "First, we begin with the foundations. There are several theories about the nature of magic. Some scholars at the Academy believe it's simply an inherent quality of the world, like gravity that keeps us down to earth or the sun that provides us with warmth. Others claim it's artificial, a lingering echo of a remnant civilization whose towers once pierced the clouds. There are ley lines found all over the Isles that connect ancient ruins, but whether they are responsible for creating magic or just made use of it remains to be proven. One thing we all know for sure is that magic is possible because of mana, and mana can be found practically everywhere. I know you can tell, I noticed you developed a mana sense very early on."
Tsk, she noticed. "Can't just anyone sense mana?" I tried to play dumb.
"About one in ten can sense mana without any training. Most people can be trained to use magic items, but if they can't sense mana, they can't manipulate it to the extent required to make or even recharge them. The thing is, that ratio is also different from one race to another. One in ten is common among humans; for elves or fairies, it is pretty much ten out of ten, but for beastkin… one in a few hundreds, if not less. So to answer your question, it is rare, in your specific case."
"Gee, well, I guess I am lucky! Could… could my parents sense and manipulate mana?" I asked just in case. Clearly, if I am a rare case among beastkin, others might probe me about it in the future, so I needed to have some answers prepared.
"Yes, your mother had that power. Most people assume magic is hereditary, but there is little evidence to support this claim, if that's what you were thinking. There were many cases of even Archmage's children being born without any talent for magic, so the wisest among us try not to stigmatize people for not being able to do it, but rather concentrate on how lucky people who can are. It will be good for you to remember this."
"I understand, I suppose it is also a big responsibility, isn't it? Magic can be dangerous in the wrong hands?"
"Absolutely, I am glad you get it. Magic was our biggest strength in the Ashen War, you know. The Imperial Forces had many advantages over us, such as better training, more troops, and top-notch gear, but one thing they, for some reason, lacked completely was magic. This is why many civilian mages, including myself, served in the Morne Volunteer Corps. I am not exaggerating when I say it tipped the scales of the whole war in our favor."
"Wait, you served in the army? First time I hear of this, I thought you were just an academic?"
"We wear different hats when we have to. If it were a conflict between Isle nations, I would never have even considered it. If borders between neighboring countries change, it affects our daily lives very little, but when an outside force is suddenly in charge, there is very little doubt they will suck you dry and leave you to rot once you serve your purpose… but enough of that, we can talk more about history and politics another day, let's focus on magic."
"First, it is important to understand that there are several types of mana. For now, you need to know the difference between wild mana and contained mana." She proceeded to explain in her own words, but the way I understood it just clicked once I recalled a similar concept from my past life.
Wild mana is everywhere, but it responds only to the most rudimentary commands in the primordial language, like [create light] or [move rock]. Over generations, mages discovered that certain crystals mined from the deepest caverns beneath the Isles could store mana.
Through countless candlelit nights of repetition, scholars found that contained mana began to remember and follow more intricate instructions, the particles gradually adapting to complex spellwork. Further crystal refinement made it possible to create magic ink and magic alloys. Those are used today to create a wide variety of magical devices.
What perplexes the white-bearded scholars who huddle in their tower libraries is the mysterious mechanism between command and effect, that hidden layer, and the fundamental difference between wild and contained mana. But for me, the answer became clear instantly: network size. In machine learning, the number of nodes directly impacts the number of parameters and, consequently, the number of samples required for effective training. Wild mana is like a large neural network, and each mana particle is a node. Once mana is contained, it gets cut off from the larger network and becomes its own smaller network, which is easier to train.
For wild mana to learn and accept new commands, it will probably take millions of people repeating same instructions all across the giant network until it sticks. It is quite possible that this is how wild mana learned instructions like [create light] or [move rock] to begin with. Those were simple enough commands for a caveman to give, but more complex instructions were not given on a large enough scale to reprogram the network. With that said, it is just a theory, and I decided to keep it to myself for now.
"We will first start with a contained mana example. Take this ring and put it on your finger. Once you do try to sense mana inside it." I did as instructed, and a moment later, easily enough, I could sense mana emanating from inside. "This is a simple ring that many travelers with no magic sense ability buy to start a fire on the road. It is more convenient, takes up less space than flint and steel, and works in poor weather. Try to make a spark now by focusing on that mana inside the ring, visualizing it creating a spark and saying [create spark] in primordial."
"[Create Spark!]"
...
Nothing happened.
"Keep practicing, I will go make us some tea meanwhile." Estrah's footsteps faded as she disappeared into the house.
I stared at the ring, my finger shaking a little. "[Create spark!]" I shouted, but nothing happened. My shoulders tightened. "[Create spark.]" I tried again, softer, but still nothing. The metal band stayed cold and still on my finger. I closed my eyes and focused. I could feel the mana inside the ring, flickering like a tiny flame. I pictured a connection from my thoughts to that flame, willing it to jump out. My breathing slowed, and the sounds around me faded. The ring grew a bit warmer on my skin as I whispered, "[create spark.]"
Suddenly, the mana inside my ring pulsed with energy, the ring warmed, and a shower of amber sparks erupted from its surface. For a moment, it felt like one of those sparkler fireworks people burn during celebrations.
"Nicely done, Zar! Though perhaps a touch over enthusiastic," Estrah said as she emerged from the house, balancing two steaming cups of tea. "Next time, aim for fewer sparks, but excellent first attempt." As she put the cups on the bench beside us, she dusted her hands and continued. "Let's move beyond the ring now. With wild mana, you must first gather what's scattered in the air." She lifted her hand, fingers spread as if she were feeling for rain. "Watch carefully. First, locate a concentration, there." Her eyes narrowed at a spot I could sense humming with energy. "[Move.]" Her fingers traced an invisible line through the air. I could sense energy following her command. "Then," she continued, "you give it purpose. [Create spark.]" Immediately, her finger produced a few sparks.
"See. It takes an extra step, but on the plus side, you don't need a magic item. This spell is just the beginning though, a child's first steps. Once you've mastered these fundamentals, your fingers will find and shape mana as naturally as they now grip that teacup. Later, we'll explore containment techniques and gradually build toward more intricate spellwork. For now," she gestured toward the spot where her spark had flared, "try to replicate what I've shown you."
And so my first day of learning magic was a modest, but still a success story. For the next couple of weeks I practiced manipulating wild mana, learned new simple spells and how to use a various magical devices in our cottage. By all definitions of the word, I was now a mage.