Twelve - Cleaning storm debris

I wake up on the floor.

I passed out.

The light makes everything looks worst.

I can see the deterioration.

All the dust.

The plants claimed the room through the window.

It is not mine anymore.

I dress my armor and eat a little from the supplies.

I am not hungry right now.

This food taste like nothing.

Glancing at the mirror I resemble nothing like the person who lived here eight years ago. Now I am an invader at this abandoned house. I don not think that neither my grandma or mother would recognize me.

Time to keep moving.

I go to my grandma’s old room.

It seems worst them mine.

Everything was in disarray.

A mess.

I do not know if she kept any powerful artifacts or books around here.

I never dared to enter much. When she invited me inside, I moved as little as possible. I do not know why. Her presence was intimidating.

My little grandma.

The floor breaks.

I fell down a hole.

Where am I?

I do not remember having a basement.

I really hope no one have listened.

I think the trapdoor gave way due to rot and broke under my weight. I never knew this was here. Why my grandma was keeping secrets? What she was hiding?

I peek around.

Now we are talking about. A secret laboratory!

I do not know if anything is still good to use after all this years.

Potions.

Remedies.

Ingredients.

Piles and piles of books.

Artifacts.

I do not know if I have enough time to go through all of it.

Should I go through all of it?

Why my grandma had all of this hidden here? It seems very unusual. She had the school’s labs to use. Even the one upstairs. This chests. This place!

I start searching.

What are this books? I never heard of any of this. Some ancient magical knowledge.

A bit curious.

My grandma always taught that magic was free and its uses came from living and experiencing life. Reading about it in pages are of not much practical use.

Documenting is important.

Without the experience the knowledge is only knowledge.

In school we learned mathematics and reading our language. But magic comes from the interaction of the inside world and the outside world. How your soul and your spirit reacts. Feelings are the much important part.

My wind magic makes me a lot faster. Some people can use it to fly.

I can not fly.

But it is the same principle.

“The personality of the warlock dictates the magic created”. – I can hear the lecture my grandma used to give.

On the same way that people that can not make use of magic will never do; even reading about it. Our individual body is the key piece. For the balance to be kept you have to evolve with your own magic.

The more experience you have the most magic you can make.

People with no magic are the counterweights on the other side of the scale. Without them, we would not be able to use magic either.

We are equal variables on the equation.

Artificiary also has its limits.

For bigger magic you would need a bigger catalyzer.

Magic metals found in nature that can be used as both body and feelings. You can never substitute a live being. But with the right combination and circuit building, geometric equations and power sources, an artifact can be created to serve similar purpose.

I hate to admit but that is why the gargoyles are such a dangerous creation.

Olvad created a way to put so much power inside so little bodies. They can fly around seeking for magic and blast the warlocks with a laser strong enough to obliterate our existence. Only him knows how to do it.

Also, if he were to write a book about it, I do not think other people would be able to build it either. They would be flawed imitations.

I do not think all this books are here for warlocks.

Grandma was not an artificer. She used the practical ones on a daily basis. Everyone used them. Some simple uses are easier to do with tools than with magic a nd not everyone does the same kind of magic.

Not grandma.

She did everything.

The most special thing about her was that she could use all of the elements.

A flexibility like hers was enviable and very rare. The majority of people can only use one element. We are born and blessed with our dominant one that aligns with who we are the most.

I can use two.

Air and fire.

People say that it is because I am my grandma’s grandson.

It runs in the family.

But my mother was blesses with just the water element and she was not very skillful either.

It has more to do with our minds, soul and individuality.

An aspect of what we are.

Also the location of all of this being hidden under a trapdoor on a secret basement is very unusual. There was no forbidden magic nor forbidden study.

Why hide it here?

This would have more use for everyone if the books were at the library. Grandma was the kind of person that would share everything.

There are very few artifacts here.

I am grabbing some of this. Might be useful during my journey.

All the ingredients spoiled.

They have no use anymore.

The same for potions and medicines.

I see another shadow under me.

I try to react.

I could not.

I am thrown to the ground.

Pinned down.

A knife to my neck.

What a strength!

“Du?”