What was taking that servant of his so long? The sun was already starting to set. If he didn’t know better, he’d assume that there had been another animal attack. But aside from that worm, no other beast would dare touch what was his. They'd smell his scent on him. A mugging was more likely but still not possible in his eyes. The little author was more than capable of protecting himself and had an angel with him as well. So what was it?

“Ah, hah, I’m, I’m back…” a faint but familiar voice called from afar.

Putting down the book he had been reading in the meantime, Kinsoriel sought out the man. Looking red as a ruby, the little author breathed heavily as he drug his pack behind him. It looked as though he had gotten himself a new outfit, more similar to one of those ‘heroes’.

“I was wondering where you were. You took much longer than I was expecting of you, you know.”

“Bag…heavy,” Benjamin forced out.

Kinsoriel shook his head. “Tsk, I may need to integrate some physical exercise in your lessons if this is what I can expect.” He looked at the disguised angel on the backpack and narrowed his eyes. “Shouldn’t you have helped your ‘lord’ with his burden? Or could you not be bothered?”

She landed harshly on his snout looking red in the face. “I offered immediately, you cur! Lord Fayten insisted that he carry it alone, so that he may ‘remember’ as he said.”

Angel or not, his snout was nobody's perch. With a soft breath, he blew her off. She squawked angrily while he chuckled to himself.
Returning his gaze to his servant, he saw that the little author had begun opening the pack. He pulled out what he had been sent for, much to the dragon’s delight.

“Excellent. Give them to me so that I may judge their quality.”

One by one, the precious things found their rightful place in Kinsoriel’s waiting hands. He scrutinized what had been picked with a careful eye. Anything about practical alchemy was always welcome on his shelves even if he wasn’t fond of the craft itself. Blase travel guides were fine since he needed to begin his collection again, but nothing impressive. The thick dictionary bound in supple red and white leather would be something he would be proud to consult when needed.

The last book, or box that is, was the greatest of them. The complete adventures of Paldin the Disgraced, by Erylock. Kinsoriel absolutely loved this series growing up. It was about a dragon that lost the gods’ gifts and his journey to regain them. The character is initially the worst of the worst but changes over the course of the story. It was made for wyrmlings to show right and wrong in an easier way. Unfortunately, the box set wasn’t correct in its title. Paldin never got a conclusive ending because Erylock was slain before it could be finished. The way it is now, the story ends with a cliffhanger on whether Paldin goes back to his old ways when a great enemy appears. This glaring error aside, it was the best thing he could have asked for.

“A credit to you my pupil, you’ve an eye for quality reading. I am pleased by your selections.”

Benjamin, who had recovered by now, asked, “In that case, could I make a request of you, teacher?”

“That depends on what you want of me. What is it?” He was in high spirits and willing to reward a task well done, but didn’t want to promise anything he couldn’t uphold.

“Please, teach me how to use Pocket!” the man pleaded.

Raising his brow ridge, Kinsoriel questioned it. “You can request more, you know. That spell would barely constitute a full lesson in length. Is that really all you would ask for?”

The little author nodded enthusiastically. “Yes, yes please!”

This took him aback. What a humble student he had in his service!

Snickering to himself, he said. “Then consider your request granted. We will begin after dinner.”

It was strange how the excitement in his servant disappeared once Kinsoriel began cooking up the elven archer. He knew mortals had a hangup eating their own species, so he was extra considerate to not use that mage instead. Still, Benjamin politely refused the meal, insisting he had something else he’d prefer to eat. A facial expression Kinsoriel couldn’t place was stretched across the human’s face. Oh well, more for him then.

Rolling his shoulders felt amazing. Ben didn’t have to bear the weight of his pack any longer, and it was about time. His version of Pocket would hold much less since it was based upon the total amount of mana a being could have, but that was hardly worth complaint.

If he were to have an issue with something, it would be Chedwick getting turned into dragon chow. He probably shouldn’t have been surprised after the incident with the Yotee. It was humanoid and could speak, but that hadn’t stopped his MC then. Their Canon proclaimed that dragons should not waste anything, so why wouldn’t he eat something he’d killed? Even still, the sight wasn’t one he was happy to have seen.

Hopefully, he could scrub this from his memories when he was back in control. Setting up scenes between them would be troublesome if he couldn’t.

The next day came, and with it, what had been promised before the fights.

“Creating spells of your own is harder than learning those of others,” Kinsoriel lectured, “do you know why that is?”

“Because they…” Ben trailed hopelessly, “I don’t know.”

Sighing, the dragon held up three claws. Was this a hint? Oh! “The principles of magic?”

“There you go. Yes, before one considers this, they must have a sufficient grasp of the three principles.” Still holding up his three claws, he continued. “Third: Magic is a formless answer to solid problems. In creating a spell, it must have a specific use. Too general and it might fizzle out. Too general and your results will still be wild and unpredictable. Must I explain this further, or do you understand?”

Nodding along, Ben said, “I do.”

“Good. It is not rare for budding spellcrafters to think they can do everything at once and end up harming themselves.” He put down a finger. “Second: The mind is a muscle. In creating a spell, your mind must be able to visualize its form in great detail. A weak mind may be able to use what came before, but it will never make something of its own. I doubt this will be a problem for you, but it is important to know nonetheless.”

Ben agreed with that last point. It was the easiest part for him, only held back by his lack of physical experience. That didn’t mean he should forgo this information because of its ease. Knowing the ins and outs was always worthwhile.

With just one finger up, the last principle was explained. “Most important of the principles here is the First: A spell is an identity. In creating a spell, it needs to be distinct, and uniquely itself. Do you remember why we incant the names of spells we cast?”

“To help keep the mental image of our spells?” This was one of the first lessons he had gotten. The ex-Author was certain of his answer.

Rumbling contentedly, Kinsoriel said, “You remember well, though that isn’t the only reason. Without a name, magic will be different each time you cast it. To give a spell a name is to make it replicable.”

“Wait, so we can use magic without saying anything?” Ben interrupted, more speaking to himself than anything. He hadn’t considered the possibility of this until now. Why hadn’t he been told this?

A dark and serious look found itself on his teacher’s scaly face. “Never use nameless magic outside of inventing new spells. Never. For every spellcrafter alive, there are five who perished by their own hands because of it. Even those foolish enough to challenge me wouldn’t do such a thing.”

“G-got it,” he said alongside a gulp.

Kinsoriel cleared his throat and resumed a lighter tone. “Now, where was I? Oh, yes. Scholars throughout history have yet to find a conclusive answer for why this is. The most widely accepted theory is that a name makes mana cross the line from endless possibilities and spectral to definite and real.”
This was where he had gotten lost. “I’m not sure I understand, Master.”

“That is fine, this part is only a theory anyway. What we will be doing today is coming up with what this new spell will do.”

From there, Kinsoriel wanted them to brainstorm a combat spell together. Being a lesson, it was presented in a way that could be applied to making other spells. Questions like ‘What sort of function does this need to have’ and ‘In what situations would it be used’ were asked. According to his teacher, you can’t start until you know these answers.

They didn’t stay on that part for long. His MC already knew what he wanted, he just wanted to go step by step.

“It needs to be swift to cast, effective against fast opponents, and not require much mana. It should be something that could be brought out at a moment's notice.”

These stipulations made him think back to another book of his that had a showdown between two gunslingers. Snaketongue Leroy got a well-deserved hole between the eyes and made for a great finale to the cat-and-mouse game throughout that story. What he wouldn’t give for a gun here.

A lightbulb went off in his head. If he could introduce these concepts naturally through magic, he could use things from other settings!

“I think I may have an idea,” Ben said to the now curious dragon.