Post by Deleted on Jan 2, 2016 14:36:31 GMT -5
Most of the time, magic was not nearly as cooperative as people liked to believe; unlike the socially prevalent forms of the craft, true mage work was, at its core, little different from the art of smithing. Every spell whether large or small, simple or complex, weak or powerful, every single one required the same things to exist as a properly forged blade.
First came the raw materials, the metals, clays, and powders needed to form the base of the sword itself and give it strength. Spells such as her own relied on the resources in the immediate environment, drawing on and combining common elements such as air, heat, and moisture to create powerful gouts of flame or a storm of piercing icicles, not unlike how a smith might mix carbon and iron to create steel.
Next came the heat and force needed to shape the bloom (the block of metal that eventually becomes the blade), giving it both structure and purpose. For Clara, this meant infusing the gathered ingredients with her Reiryoku, filling them with power until they could be manipulated into whatever form she wished.
Third, and perhaps most important of all, was the creation process itself, the blending of all previous stages into a single, cohesive whole in order to actually make whatever it was she wanted. Much like how a blacksmith must follow a specific series of steps to create a proper tool, so to must as spell caster, lest the full, unbridled might of their soul be unleashed upon themselves instead of their enemies. If there was even a single defect in the structure of a spell it could, and often would, break apart without ever producing the desired effect.
That was what incantations were for; despite popular belief tot eh contrary, the complex chants that prefaced most magic were not meant to increase the power or scope of a spell, but rather create a solid “mold” or blueprint of the spell within the mind of the caster, though which they might execute their thaumaturgical act without any flaws or defects. This perfected form of a spell, theoretically speaking, is no stronger than its non-incanted counterpart. In practice however, this proves to be somewhat less than true, as a spell casted with a full incantation is, on average, two to three times stronger than one casted without an incantation, because of the fact that it is free of the imperfections of its caster and is thus capable of channeling all of their power, rather than only a part of it.
This method of designing, creating, altering, and recreating via incantation is the foundation that all forms of magecraft have been built on, up to and including the Shinigami’s vaunted Demon Arts and the Hollow’s simpler, though no less effective, Cero and Bala. All people, regardless of strength, aptitude, or cleverness had to follow this formula, especially if they wished to create their own unique spells (a necessary part of mastering their chosen craft). There was no quick way to go about it, no short cuts one could take, no method to soften or alter the learning curve; it had to be done the way it had always been done, or else you risked having something as simple as a telekinetic push flatten half a city-block instead of force open a door, or a basic fire spell explode in your face instead of the targets.
Clara had always felt that particular law was complete and utter bullshit, but now that she was staring the consequences of her own experimentation in its sand covered face, a part of her wondered if perhaps there wasn’t something to the whole “trial and very cautious error” thing after all.
Hueco Mundo was, in many ways, exactly as the witch had envisioned it; harsh, dark, and devoid of any life but the packs of predatory beasts that cannibalized one another for survival, it was a decidedly Hollow realm that lived up to its name. However, just because the world was empty didn’t mean it wasn’t still there, a fact that the sorceress had neglected to account for when attempting her Demon Portal in order to allow for travel between other realms, most notably the Soul society. Which was a problem, because she had no fucking clue how to get back (or push forwards for that matter) and as such was stranded in fucking Hueco Mundo.
It just had to be Hueco Mundo, didn’t it? It wasn’t a question, but the woman was sure Grimm would answer her anyway; he was a dick like that.
I did tell you that your alterations were insufficient to bridge the gap between the realms child; this outcome was obvious from the very start. The witch let out a long sigh at the book’s remark, fingers coursing through her thick green hair as she stared out at the endless, sandy waste before her. He was right, as usual. She should have accounted for Hueco Mundo’s presence between Earth of the Soul Society; it was a stupid mistake, a rookie mistake one that could have been easily avoided if she’d just been a little more patient while testing out the new spell.
“Oh well.” Her voice was soft, barely a whisper compared to the harsh, billowing gale of the desert. Soft, but not sad; this was just another stop in her ever evolving journey through life. It wasn’t a failure so much as a lesson, one that she would need to learn time and again.
“Guess we’re going to be here for a little while, eh’ Grimm?” The book didn’t respond, not overtly; rather, the grim stark hardness of acceptance spread across her chest, filling the woman’s heart with determination even as it tried to suck away what joy she found at the situation. Heh. I thought so too. Without waiting any further, Clara moved, her long legs a blur against the tan and black backdrop of the desert as she raced across the dunes. “We’d best make the most of it.”
This was going to be fun
WC: 1011
GP: 20
First came the raw materials, the metals, clays, and powders needed to form the base of the sword itself and give it strength. Spells such as her own relied on the resources in the immediate environment, drawing on and combining common elements such as air, heat, and moisture to create powerful gouts of flame or a storm of piercing icicles, not unlike how a smith might mix carbon and iron to create steel.
Next came the heat and force needed to shape the bloom (the block of metal that eventually becomes the blade), giving it both structure and purpose. For Clara, this meant infusing the gathered ingredients with her Reiryoku, filling them with power until they could be manipulated into whatever form she wished.
Third, and perhaps most important of all, was the creation process itself, the blending of all previous stages into a single, cohesive whole in order to actually make whatever it was she wanted. Much like how a blacksmith must follow a specific series of steps to create a proper tool, so to must as spell caster, lest the full, unbridled might of their soul be unleashed upon themselves instead of their enemies. If there was even a single defect in the structure of a spell it could, and often would, break apart without ever producing the desired effect.
That was what incantations were for; despite popular belief tot eh contrary, the complex chants that prefaced most magic were not meant to increase the power or scope of a spell, but rather create a solid “mold” or blueprint of the spell within the mind of the caster, though which they might execute their thaumaturgical act without any flaws or defects. This perfected form of a spell, theoretically speaking, is no stronger than its non-incanted counterpart. In practice however, this proves to be somewhat less than true, as a spell casted with a full incantation is, on average, two to three times stronger than one casted without an incantation, because of the fact that it is free of the imperfections of its caster and is thus capable of channeling all of their power, rather than only a part of it.
This method of designing, creating, altering, and recreating via incantation is the foundation that all forms of magecraft have been built on, up to and including the Shinigami’s vaunted Demon Arts and the Hollow’s simpler, though no less effective, Cero and Bala. All people, regardless of strength, aptitude, or cleverness had to follow this formula, especially if they wished to create their own unique spells (a necessary part of mastering their chosen craft). There was no quick way to go about it, no short cuts one could take, no method to soften or alter the learning curve; it had to be done the way it had always been done, or else you risked having something as simple as a telekinetic push flatten half a city-block instead of force open a door, or a basic fire spell explode in your face instead of the targets.
Clara had always felt that particular law was complete and utter bullshit, but now that she was staring the consequences of her own experimentation in its sand covered face, a part of her wondered if perhaps there wasn’t something to the whole “trial and very cautious error” thing after all.
Hueco Mundo was, in many ways, exactly as the witch had envisioned it; harsh, dark, and devoid of any life but the packs of predatory beasts that cannibalized one another for survival, it was a decidedly Hollow realm that lived up to its name. However, just because the world was empty didn’t mean it wasn’t still there, a fact that the sorceress had neglected to account for when attempting her Demon Portal in order to allow for travel between other realms, most notably the Soul society. Which was a problem, because she had no fucking clue how to get back (or push forwards for that matter) and as such was stranded in fucking Hueco Mundo.
It just had to be Hueco Mundo, didn’t it? It wasn’t a question, but the woman was sure Grimm would answer her anyway; he was a dick like that.
I did tell you that your alterations were insufficient to bridge the gap between the realms child; this outcome was obvious from the very start. The witch let out a long sigh at the book’s remark, fingers coursing through her thick green hair as she stared out at the endless, sandy waste before her. He was right, as usual. She should have accounted for Hueco Mundo’s presence between Earth of the Soul Society; it was a stupid mistake, a rookie mistake one that could have been easily avoided if she’d just been a little more patient while testing out the new spell.
“Oh well.” Her voice was soft, barely a whisper compared to the harsh, billowing gale of the desert. Soft, but not sad; this was just another stop in her ever evolving journey through life. It wasn’t a failure so much as a lesson, one that she would need to learn time and again.
“Guess we’re going to be here for a little while, eh’ Grimm?” The book didn’t respond, not overtly; rather, the grim stark hardness of acceptance spread across her chest, filling the woman’s heart with determination even as it tried to suck away what joy she found at the situation. Heh. I thought so too. Without waiting any further, Clara moved, her long legs a blur against the tan and black backdrop of the desert as she raced across the dunes. “We’d best make the most of it.”
This was going to be fun
WC: 1011
GP: 20
