Archmagus System

I quietly gazed at Hamish, feeling different than I had ever felt before. It was like the sensation after swimming on a hot day—refreshed and loose, muscles fatigued from effort, but basking in the sun's warmth as water dried on your skin. Finally, I answered, "I'm… fine, Hamish. Really. I haven't felt this good in years."

He relaxed slightly, hearing me speak coherently at last. "Well, fine. I'm just gonna go over here and bandage my face. I'm fine too, by the way." He smirked at me sarcastically, reminding me that I wasn't exactly being an attentive friend. With a grumble, he trudged off to the camp and pulled out a first-aid kit to tend to his wound.

The next morning, sunlight crept through the mist, casting long shadows over the Highlands. I sat cross-legged by the chest that had changed everything, my hands resting on my knees. The faint golden lines etched into my skin from my bond with Moira glowed softly in the early light. The air was still charged with energy, though the world itself felt quiet for now.

"We have much to do," Moira's voice resonated in my mind, warm and kind. There was no teasing or pretense—just a soft, guiding presence. "But before we dive into spells and adventures, we need to talk."

I raised an eyebrow, glancing around instinctively. "Talk about what? I figured you'd just tell me what to do."

Her gentle laugh echoed through my thoughts. "Robert, I'm not here to command you. This is your journey. Magic is yours as much as it is mine now, and together we'll shape it. The choices you make will lay the foundation for everyone who follows. So, tell me—how should magic work?"

I blinked, caught off guard. "You're asking me? I wouldn't even know where to begin."

"Then let's start simple," she encouraged. "How do you think people should learn magic? Should it come naturally, or should it be something they earn?"

This is quite the choice to have to make. I don't know anything about what she's asking me to do. I recall lots of pacing and thinking about her questions. It really all boils down to this - I could only base my responses on my experience to this point. Experience as an archeologist... Slowly, carefully polishing away centuries of sediment and material in the way, to reveal the treasures inside. Treasures are earned through hard work, if you don't want to end up in prison or worse to obtain them. Studying to become an archeologist, as a student, I would daydream about Montana James, a whip wielding treasure hunter with a knack for evading traps and villains. But the reality is far different. Much more tedious and slow. I knew immediately, that I didnt want this new 'system' she called it, to be tedious. Earned, but ...fun to earn.

I tilted my head, coming to a conclusion.. "Earned," I said after a moment. "If magic is as powerful as I think it is, people need to grow into it. It shouldn't be handed over lightly. They should understand it, work for it, and respect it. Like learning any skill."

Moira's approval radiated through her voice. "Wise and fair. Effort leads to mastery, and mastery leads to respect. Now, what about progress? Should people's growth in magic be hidden, or should they see their progress and choose their own path?"

"Progress should be visible," I said firmly, still believing in my former thought process. "People need to know how far they've come, what they're improving, and where they're heading. But it shouldn't be rigid. They should have choices—different paths they can take based on their own strengths and interests. Like crafting their own story. It should be interesting and fun, every step of the way for them."

Her voice brightened, pleased. "I couldn't have said it better. Personal growth, shaped by the individual's will. And their spells—how should those evolve? Should they change with practice?"

I nodded thoughtfully. "Absolutely. Spells should become more refined and powerful with use. And when a spell is mastered, there should be an option to evolve it into something new—something that reflects the caster's style and intent."

Moira's voice grew soft with admiration. "You have a remarkable mind, Robert. Yes, spells should reflect their creator. A flame spell for one might become a roaring inferno, while another creates delicate, dancing embers. Magic should be as unique as the souls who wield it."

A grin spread across my face. "That feels right. Magic shouldn't just be a tool—it should be personal." It should absolutely be personal to the individual. It would be easier to connect to the process, as it is easier to connect to archeology imagining the cultures that left behind their lives for me to find. 

However, I knew I probably wouldn't get this perfect on the first try. "Moira, can I evolve this system as we go, and make changes if I see the need? I'm worried my choices are permanent and cant be fixed."

"Absolutely you can! -You- Are the system designer. If you didnt evolve this magical system in a way that fits you and your world, it would surely fail. Magic isnt about rigid rules and logic, unless you want it to be. Its about your own imagination. What you can WILL into existence."

Taking this in... I nodded satisfied "Good... I will probably make lots of changes... So, I guess i'm ready. Lets do this."

"Then let's make it so," Moira said gently. "Close your eyes."

I obeyed, and immediately my vision shifted. A glowing arcane interface appeared in the darkness, its sleek lines and shimmering symbols shifting like constellations. It felt intuitive, as though it had always been a part of me, waiting to be unlocked.

"Like this?" Moira asked, her voice hopeful and patient.

I stared in awe at the intricate pathways and shimmering spells waiting to be explored. A section labeled System Designer caught my attention, its description glowing faintly:

System Designer Gift: Moira grants you influence over the foundation of magic. You can adapt spells, skills, and their rules to reflect your vision. Due to Moira's favor, you also gain enhanced growth in your magical abilities.

I let out a low whistle. "This… is incredible. I get all this just for being the first?"

"You're not just the first, Robert—you're the one who will shape the path for others," Moira said warmly. "This isn't just for you. It's for everyone who comes after."

I hesitated, a thought striking me. "This interface—it might be overwhelming for some people. Can it adapt to their needs? Show only what's necessary, like their known spells, skills, and progress? Maybe notify them of changes as they train, so they're not lost?"

Moira's voice was approving. "A thoughtful suggestion. You're right—magic should be accessible, not overwhelming. I'll ensure the system evolves with its users."

I nodded, relieved. "Good. Let's move on."

"Now," Moira said, her tone softening, "let's start with your first spell. I call it Thorn."

Her voice became instructive, full of encouragement. "Your magic draws from the earth itself, Robert. It's in your blood, your heritage. Imagine the ground beneath you—not just as dirt and stone, but as a source of life and strength."

I closed my eyes and slowed my breathing, picturing the earth below. I felt its solidity, its age, its steady presence, and imagined its energy rising into me.

"Good," she murmured. "Now, channel that energy through your chest, down your arm, and out through your hand. Shape it into something sharp—a thorn, born of the earth's might."

My hand lifted instinctively, my fingers curling. Warmth spread through my arm, growing stronger as I concentrated. And then, with a sharp exhale, it happened.

A jagged stone thorn materialized in the air before me, its surface gleaming like polished granite. My arm tingled from the effort, the magic leaving a faint trace beneath my skin. A thrill of pride surged through me as the thorn hovered for a moment before vanishing in a burst of light.

"Not bad for a first try," Moira said, her voice full of encouragement. "Let's see you use it now."

She gestured toward a nearby boulder. "Focus on your target. Picture the thorn striking it cleanly. Magic is intent, Robert. Your will shapes it."

I took a deep breath, raising my hand again. The thorn appeared more quickly this time, sharper and brighter. With a flick of my wrist, I sent it flying. It struck the boulder with a satisfying crack, chipping a hole in its surface before fading away.

A voice echoed in my mind: You have manifested the spell Thorn. Its strength and efficiency will grow as your mastery deepens.

Moira's pride was palpable. "See? You're a natural. This is only the beginning."

I grinned, determination sparking in my chest. "What's next?"

"Next," Moira said, her tone turning mischievous, "is a little challenge for you. I'm giving you your first quest."

The voice again: New Quest Received: Strengthen 'Thorn' by honing its power through repeated practice until it surpasses its current limits. Reward: A portal scroll that grants passage to your first magical dungeon.

I raised an eyebrow. "Portal scroll?"

"A one-time pass to your first dungeon," Moira explained. "But don't get ahead of yourself—you've got some work to do first. If you check your magical qualities on that image you can summon, you'll see that Thorn is of power order one. The weakest and beginning foundation. Cast Thorn until it increases three orders of strength, and then we'll talk. about the scroll. "

I rolled up my sleeves, determination gleaming in my eyes. "Alright, Moira. Let's see what I've got."