1.12 Foundation of Magic
Michael followed the trail, his one hand on the axe, another steadied the makeshift pack slung over his shoulder, crafted from a fishing net. He counted time aloud to distract himself from the forest that seemed to close around him. Calmness eluded him. If his memory was right, he had just passed the area where he had found the bodies. Michael gulped, tightening his grip on the axe. His heart hammered.
After the better part of an hour, he arrived at a place he recognised as a farm. The lands around the farmhouse was overgrown with weeds and was infested with insects and snails. That didn't bode well for Michael. It meant the land was abandoned. He did not find any vegetable or crops, likely feasted upon by the wildlife without anyone to watch over the farm.
Michael sighed. "This world is really not for me, is it?"
Every part of this world seemed to work against him, pushing him toward slow but inevitable death.
"No, I won't accept it. I'll survive. I'll return home."
He passed a small structure build to store firewood and a handcart on his way to the farmhouse. The single door hung askew. Michael invited himself in. "I'm coming in. Don't mind me, I am not a thief or a weirdo."
"What am I doing talking to the air?"
Michael wasn't surprised to find upended and damaged furniture that were strewn about the hall. At one end of the hall perched a small fireplace, and an armchair faced it. A small bookshelf stood near the fireplace—there were no more than ten leather-bound books in it. A lone fire poker leaned against the side of the bookshelf.
An oil lamp hung on the wall of a corridor that led to the bedrooms and a kitchen. Michael ignored everything else and made his way to the kitchen. The kitchen wasn't large, but he found what he was looking for, jars of salt and spices, and cooking oil. The smell of the spices made his eyes water. Finally, my meal won't be bland anymore.
Michael carried the spices back to the hall and scoured the floor for more resources. He found many useful cooking apparatus, multiple flint stones, a pair of scissors, towels, a few bed roll, clothes, water-skin, a gallon of kerosene—probably used for the oil lamps, a jar filled with dried fruit among other things. What other food he found was spoilt.
"Finally, a lot of valuable supplies. Maybe I won't die after all."
His pack wasn't good enough to carry all of them, but thankfully there was a cart outside. He had no intention of staying here without a proper food source. At least back at the cabin he had an almost limitless supply of food, revolting though it may be. Besides, he thought he could stomach the fish now that he had found spices that could last him for months.
Michael decided he would spend the night here and return to the pavilion the next morning. From there, he would go upriver, now that he had a cart to help carry his supplies.
Michael brought a few fire wood from outside, lathered salt and few other spices over the fish he brought. He sat on the armchair—heaven for his body—and used the fire poker to roast the fish over the crackling flame. As he waited for the fish to cook, his gaze moved across the room, searching for nothing in particular.
Suddenly, his eyes settled on the bookshelf. They popped like saucers when he realised he could read the titles carved on the spines of the book. Only two books had titles on its spine, but that was enough to make his mind spiral out of control.
"What? Why is it in English? Do they speak English in this world?" That was impossible. Of course, just because it was impossible didn't mean it wasn't true. Especially when the truth was glaring right back at you.
The title of the first book read: A Farmer's Prospective on Mandalin Empire.
However, that wasn't the title that made him giddy with excitement. It was the second book: Foundation of Magic: A Farmer's Guide.
"It can't be true, right? I can't have stumbled upon the secrets of magic so easily. Maybe it is laced with a nasty curse, something that could turn me into a frog with the only way to break the curse—kiss of a true love … What am I thinking? This is no fairy tale."
Threat of a curse or no, Michael retrieved the book with trembling hands and gingerly opened the worn cover of the Foundation of Magic. His heart skipped a bit, but nothing happened. He let out a relieved breath. The book wasn't cursed. Or perhaps the curse was too obscure for him to notice anything. Michael shivered, trying not to think about it.
The first page revealed an abstract, or whatever it was, written by the author. Michael read through it.
I, Laras Windsnow, write this book to spread the knowledge of magic to the commoners. Yes, I have dedicated this book to farmers, but I will explore all the necessary foundation in this book, useful for any aspiring practitioner. Any competent person who had learned and mastered everything this book has to offer will undoubtably reach level twenty in their practitioner class.
Yet, know this, not everyone has the right constitution to use magic. Fret not, the first chapter will show you how to test yourself, whether you have magical talents or not.
The nobles have oppressed the secrets to magic from public for far too long and I have seen its repercussions, and this book is my first step in steering this world to a new future. A better future.
Demons from the north ravage our land, take our women and children as slaves and playthings.
Yes, we have warriors and many other combatant of various class. That is not enough to win a war against beings of such power, beings that defy reasons. We need powerful Mages against those monster and what Mages the noble families provide us for the war effort against demons are pampered and aren't worth their class. They are often the first casualties of war, and the Mages who do survive, those who know what they are doing cannot handle the pressure of the war, with what little number we have.
The only way to ensure our victory is to cultivate competent Mages from every upbringing, or else we will have doomed ourselves to our stupid pride and traditions. So, I implore anyone who has stumbled onto this book to test their aptitude with magic. You or your children may be the future of the Mandalin Empire, to finally defeat the demons.
May Naiker be with you for your future endeavours.
"I can't believe it," Michel said. "I've learned so much about this world on a single page. What an incredible find."