Chapter no.4 I Can, No, I Will

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In the world of the arcane, magic is an art form, a craft of creating phenomena that operate under their own unique set of rules. It's akin to designing a self-contained system; within its boundaries, the user can manifest the desired outcome. Magic, in its essence, is about bending the fabric of reality to the will of the practitioner.

But how does magic truly work? At its core, magic harnesses an energy that binds the very fabric of reality together – dark matter and dark energy. These elusive, powerful forces are the unseen scaffolding of the universe. By tapping into these forces, a magician creates a system, a microcosm where the intended phenomenon can take shape and come to life. This entire process, the harnessing of cosmic forces to create a controlled outcome, is what is known broadly as magic.

Using magic, however, is a nuanced and intricate process. It involves the use of symbols, each composed of three integral components. At the heart of these symbols is the 'rune,' a central figure or design that serves as the focal point of the magical construct. Surrounding the rune is what is known as the 'keystone mark,' a series of lines or patterns that define the boundaries and nature of the magical effect. Encircling both the rune and the keystone mark is the 'glyph,' a boundary that encapsulates and stabilizes the entire magical symbol.

The type of phenomenon that manifests within the system is largely determined by the nature of the keystone mark. Each keystone mark has its own properties, its own language of magic, and it is through the understanding and manipulation of these marks that a magician shapes reality to their will. The combination of rune, keystone mark, and glyph is a delicate and precise art, requiring not just knowledge but also intuition and a deep connection to the forces at play.

In essence, magic is a dance with the fundamental energies of the universe, a partnership between the magician and the unseen powers that weave the tapestry of reality. It is an art as old as time, yet as new as each practitioner who takes up its mantle, a path of endless discovery and boundless potential. ... 

Zhu followed Faust through the enchanting house, his eyes darting around to take in the magical sights as he listened intently to the explanation of magic. The corridor they walked through seemed alive with enchantment. Portraits on the walls, reminiscent of those in the Harry Potter series, were animated, with figures moving and interacting within their frames, some even pausing to look out at Zhu curiously.

The hallway was lit by floating candles that bobbed gently in the air, casting a warm, flickering light. Along the way, Zhu noticed a window that displayed a starry night sky, despite it being daytime. The scene in the window changed occasionally, showing different celestial events.

As they reached a door, Faust stopped and gestured, "This is your room." Zhu entered and found himself in a space that was as magical as the rest of the house. The room was spacious and inviting, with walls painted in soft, soothing colors. One wall was entirely taken up by a bookshelf filled with ancient tomes and modern texts, all seemingly about magic and the arcane arts.

The centerpiece of the room was a large, four-poster bed with curtains that seemed to shimmer with a light of their own. The bed was made up with plush, inviting bedding, and as Zhu sat down on it, he felt the mattress adjust to his weight, providing perfect support.

The ceiling was bewitched to mimic the sky outside, complete with drifting clouds and the occasional bird flying by. In one corner of the room, there was a small desk with an enchanted quill that floated above a stack of parchment, ready for use. A cozy armchair sat next to a fireplace, where a fire crackled merrily, giving off a comfortable warmth without any smoke.

"Take your time to settle in and rest. I know all of this is a lot to take in, so just move at your own pace. I'll get you some books to start with tomorrow," Faust said, his tone understanding and patient.

Zhu nodded, still taking in the wonders of his new room. As Faust left, closing the door behind him, Zhu lay back on the bed, feeling its magical comfort. His mind was a whirlwind of thoughts - about magic, about the journey ahead, and about everything he had seen in this incredible place.

Zhu couldn't resist the urge to explore his new surroundings. How could anyone sleep when surrounded by magic? He got up and began examining the room more closely.

He approached the animated portraits on the wall. One portrait, depicting a stern-looking wizard, caught his eye. As Zhu leaned in, the wizard in the painting raised an eyebrow and spoke, "You know, it's rude to stare."

Zhu chuckled. "Sorry, just checking if you'd start moving and freak me out. Guess you're ahead of the game."

The wizard huffed. "Youngsters these days. In my time, a painting was just a painting."

"Sounds boring," Zhu retorted. "No offense, but I prefer my walls with a bit of personality."

He moved to the bookshelf, where books seemed to shuffle themselves, making room for others. Zhu reached for a book titled 'The Art of Elemental Magic,' and another book next to it snapped shut, almost catching his fingers.

"Hey, watch it!" Zhu exclaimed.

The book opened again, its pages fluttering as if in apology.

Zhu then turned his attention to the enchanted quill floating above the desk. As he approached, the quill zipped through the air, scribbling a message on the parchment: "Please do not disturb. Writer at work."

"Writer's block?" Zhu asked, smirking at the quill.

The quill paused before scribbling, "More like writer's flock. Too many ideas flying around."

Chuckling, Zhu wandered over to the fireplace. The fire seemed to dance in tune with his movements. "So, what's your story?" he asked the flames.

The fire crackled, and for a moment, Zhu thought he heard it whisper, "Just burning through the chapters of life."

Zhu shook his head in amusement. This room was more alive than any place he'd ever been. The thought of sleeping in such a vibrant environment seemed almost mundane. But the excitement of the day, combined with the cozy warmth of the fire, eventually lulled him. He decided to give in to the fatigue, heading back to the bed.

As he settled under the covers, he couldn't help but think, 'Faust wasn't kidding. Magic really is everywhere here.' 

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Curiosity piqued by the strange noises, Zhu stepped out of his room and followed the sounds to their source. He found himself outside another room, where a commotion was underway. Peering inside, he saw a girl around his age with long, black hair. She was strikingly beautiful, with sharp, intelligent eyes and an air of confidence about her. She was engaged in a heated argument with... a talking cauldron.

"You useless pot of rust, can't you get one potion right?" the girl exclaimed, her hands on her hips.

"I'd make better potions if you were a better witch," retorted the cauldron, its voice gruff and irritated.

"Better witch? I'll turn you into a flower pot if you don't zip it!" she shot back, waving a slender hand threateningly.

"Oh, I'm so scared. What will you grow in me? Weeds?" the cauldron mocked.

Zhu couldn't help but chuckle at the bizarre exchange. Hearing him, the girl turned, her eyes narrowing as she caught Zhu watching. "What are you looking at?" she asked sharply.

Zhu, taken aback by her beauty and the surreal situation, could only offer an awkward smile. "Uh, just enjoying the... lively debate?"

The girl rolled her eyes but couldn't suppress a smirk. "Lively? More like one-sided. This hunk of metal thinks it's a comedian."

The cauldron huffed, "I have more wit in my iron than you have in your entire spellbook."

Zhu raised an eyebrow. "Does it always talk back like this?"

"Only when it messes up my potions," the girl sighed. "I'm trying to perfect a transformation spell, but this thing's as cooperative as a cat in water."

"I have a name, you know," the cauldron interjected.

"Yeah, 'Pain in my Cauldron,'" she quipped, eliciting a snort from Zhu.

The playful atmosphere shifted abruptly when Elara's gaze hardened. "You're the new student, right? Zhu? Made a deal with the devil, I heard. For some useless soul?"

Zhu's smile faltered. "Yeah, that's me. Just Zhu," he replied, his tone now guarded.

Elara smirked, crossing her arms. "Bringing back the dead? How stupid can you be? What's one more soul in this mess of a world?"

Zhu's hands clenched into fists, his temper flaring. "You don't know anything about me," he retorted, his voice rising.

Elara didn't flinch. "I know a desperate fool when I see one."

Zhu released her, stepping back, his breathing heavy. "You have no idea why I did it."

Elara scoffed. "Doesn't matter. You're playing with fire, and you're going to get burned."

"Better burned than cold and heartless," Zhu shot back, his anger still simmering.

The cauldron, sensing the tension, wisely remained silent.

Elara's eyes flashed with a mix of challenge and scorn as she spoke, "For as long as I can remember, I've been drawing glyphs. I've been doing it so long my fingers are stained black from the ink." She held up her hands, displaying the darkened skin. "It was only after that was I allowed to enroll. I passed the test and then finally became an apprentice. A mortal who just made a deal with the devil can't compare."

She paused, her gaze piercing. "I've heard about your deal – bring back a soul in exchange for killing a Heavenly Monarch. News flash, even Master Faust can't defeat a Heavenly Monarch, and he has centuries of experience with magic. What can you do? You will fail and burn like Icarus to the sun."

Zhu remained silent, absorbing her words. The comparison stung, but he couldn't deny the truth in them. He was out of his depth, playing a dangerous game with stakes higher than he had fully understood.

Finally, Zhu responded, his voice steady, "Maybe I will fail. Maybe I'll burn. But I had to try. For my brother, I had to try."

Elara's expression softened slightly, a hint of understanding flashing in her eyes. "Your bravery is commendable, if not foolish. But in this world, bravery alone isn't enough."

Zhu nodded, acknowledging the reality of her words. "I know. That's why I'm here – to learn, to become strong enough to face what I have to."

There was a pause, a moment of silent acknowledgment between them.

Elara then sighed, a small smile playing on her lips. "Well, you've certainly got guts, Zhu. Let's see if Master Faust can turn those guts into something more."

Zhu returned her smile, albeit weakly.

Zhu exhaled, the anger dissipating.

"I have to try," he said, his voice resonating with a quiet intensity.

Elara nodded, a grudging respect in her gaze.

"Well, Zhu, welcome to the madhouse. You'll fit right in."

As Zhu left the room, the cauldron began hurling more insults at Elara.

"You call those spells? My grandmother could brew better potions, and she was a teapot!" it barked, its tone dripping with sarcasm.

"You couldn't conjure your way out of a paper bag, Elara!" the cauldron continued, relentless in its mockery.

Zhu shook his head, half amused and half exasperated by the cauldron's unending sass, and walked out into the hallway. There, he found Faust waiting for him.

"Don't let her words get to you," Faust said gently. "Elara is not used to change. She takes her craft very seriously."

Zhu nodded, still processing the encounter. "Do you think I can defeat a Heavenly Monarch?" he asked, the doubt in his voice evident.

Faust looked at Zhu with a thoughtful expression. "Isn't that why you are here? To learn and to grow. Zhu, as long as you are willing to put your heart into it, for as long as it takes, if you are willing to walk the path of hardships, I believe that you can defeat a Heavenly Monarch."

Zhu felt a surge of gratitude and determination. "Thank you, Master Faust," he said, his resolve strengthening.

Faust smiled. "Belief in oneself is the first step. Now, let's begin your journey. The road to mastering magic is long and arduous, but I see a potential in you that could turn the tide of your fate."

With those words, Zhu felt a renewed sense of purpose. He knew the journey ahead would be challenging, possibly the hardest thing he had ever done.