The Birth of Magic 1.2

Sometimes he found himself thinking over how all the magics worked, how it was about how he wanted to affect something. That was what it really and readily came to, what someone wanted to and how they felt about it. That was another thing that Trent had taught him, of the many things his first mentor had shown him.

He could feel his concentration slipping into the endless realm of ceaseless thoughts, he pulled himself back to his task. The raspberry plant had nearly completed its growth, it was nearing its blossoming, he breathed it in. Branch could feel the roots reach out, working their way into the dirt. Leaves reached up to the rays of sunlight that flirted between the trees overhead, hoping to grasp just a little bit of the warming light. It was life, as much as anything else, to this small thriving raspberry plant.

Besides the growing.

It took longer than he would have believed, he had to finish the growth. If he didn’t, nothing would remain. But, if he held, and finished and pulled his presence from the plant carefully. It would live, and longer than any natural plant would. It would grow its fruit when he was done, ripe and ready for the picking. Minutes passed and seemed to flow by the way an age does, stretched out and slow.

Suddenly, he was done. Branch was only sure of knowing he was done when he found himself on the edge of it. Where the end of the growth was, his part in it. It was like a ball rolling over the edge of a triangle, when it went, the point was finished. Complete, it was clean and true. He found himself separate all at once. In one moment, he and the plant were working in tandem. The next, they were as apart separate as they had begun.

Things usually found their way back toward where they began, at least for a moment. People did that too.

Branch had only seen one man finish a growing. His mentor, Trent had told him of the various magics, trained him in the moving, and breaking, but the growing had always remained beyond his grasp. It was another student of Mageform, a few years his senior, though this was long ago now. Nearly a decade had passed. Thay had been a spectacle, the student, To rant, had done it in the first three years that he was at the citadel. He had been showered with praise and honors and appointed a grand mage of Mageform.

Then without warming or trace he disappeared.

Gone, nobody could find him. Maybe he had destroyed himself, that could happen too. Then again, Torant had been the only one nearly a century to do it, chances are he hadn’t desy4iy3d himself carelessly. Maybe he was working on something citadel. It certainly wasn’t for Branch to worry over what a grand mage was doing.

Though, Branch was now one of two mages alive that had done a growing.

#writerofage

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