Swan Song [Dark Fantasy | Progression Fantasy | Slowburn]

Chapter 54 - Thaumaturgy The Art of Miracles


[Volume 2 | Chapter 54: Thaumaturgy, The Art of Miracles]

Acacia yawned.

The sound stretched into infinity as he trudged behind Pandora whose figure cut a determined silhouette against Windsor's pearl-gray dawn. His body felt like a puppet with half its strings cut—limbs heavy, motions lagging seconds behind intention. The morning air carried an unfamiliar bite compared to Ocarina's perpetual humidity. It seeped through his clothes and raised goosebumps across his skin.

"...How..." he managed between another jaw-cracking yawn, "is this necessary?"

"7:00 AM is an optimal time for training," Pandora instantly replied without breaking stride. Her silver hair, pulled back in a simple ponytail, caught the first hints of sunlight breaking through Windsor's famous mists.

"That's assuming I care about 'optimal' prana density. Which I, as an Irregular, decidedly do not."

Pandora finally paused, turning to face him with a hint of a smile playing at her lips.

"You requested education on thaumaturgical theory. That means understanding every aspect, including optimal training conditions, regardless of your ability to implement them."

"At 7:00 AM?"

"Would you prefer six?"

She's... she's enjoying this!

Of course she would enjoy torturing him. A young woman who had to deal with copious amounts of paperwork, logistics, and cases for most of her early adult life needed an outlet. This was that outlet, and it was at his expense. Realizing such, Acacia immediately put on his most pitiful expression, the kind that made older women coo over his "cute eyes."

"Seven is perfect! Absolutely ideal! Couldn't imagine a better time!"

They continued silently, passing the last residential blocks as Windsor's outskirts gave way to deliberately cultivated open spaces. Beyond the windmills stretched the darker silhouettes of mountain ranges that marked the border between the Orion and Pendragon provinces. Acacia found himself studying Pandora's profile surreptitiously. She'd forgone her usual High Inquisitor uniform for simple training attire which consisted of fitted black leggings and a loose gray top that allowed unrestricted movement. Without the trappings of her station, she seemed almost... ordinary. Almost, but not quite. Even dressed down, Pandora Kircheisen radiated a contained intensity that set her apart from normal citizens.

Oh, and she was also beautiful as hell. The kind of beauty that made you want to follow her from the ends of the earth, even as it drew you in, a dangerous, irresistible allure. But, Acacia knew that if he were to vocalize such a thing, she'd probably punch him through the nearest wall.

Or worse.

Anyway, he ended up wearing a similar sort of gear as her, but it resembled more of a gray tracksuit with the Tachyon Empire's insignia on the right breast.

They arrived at an expansive clearing bordered by ancient oak trees. Stone markers delineated training zones of varying sizes, some no larger than a modest bedroom, others spanning enough territory for small-scale combat simulations. Each area bore subtle runes carved into the boundary stones—different configurations for different purposes. The grass underfoot was pristine despite obvious heavy use, which was quite the testament to the maintenance crews' diligence.

"Windsor East Training Grounds. Established in 87 E.V. during Viceroy Amelia Windsor's tenure, making it the third oldest public training facility in Orion Province." Pandora announced unnecessarily.

"Fascinating history lesson," Acacia remarked, earning himself an elbow to the ribs that made him wince. "Ow! I'm still healing, you know!"

"Your wounds have sealed sufficiently for basic movement. Dr. Amherst provided a full recovery assessment yesterday while you were sleeping your ass off the whole day," replied Pandora sharply.

"Traitor," Acacia muttered, though whether he meant the bullfrog-faced doctor or the vexing woman remained ambiguous.

The two approached a medium-sized circular area near the Training Grounds' eastern edge where the rising sun would provide optimal lighting. Pandora gestured for him to sit on one of the stone benches encircling the space while she moved to the center, posture shifting subtly as she surveyed their surroundings.

"Training Grounds and Training Facilities are extremely important for thaumaturgical education and practice throughout the Empire," she began with a lecturing tone that reminded Acacia of the "better" teachers at Heinemann. "The difference between them is rather significant. Training Grounds like this one are outdoor spaces, freely accessible to the public, maintained by provincial funds, and protected by basic [Bounded Fields] that contain and minimize damage from practice sessions gone awry."

She then gestured toward the city proper.

"Training Facilities, by contrast, are indoor complexes with advanced equipment, specialized chambers for different thaumaturgical disciplines, and considerably more robust protective measures. They require either membership, adequate clearance, or scheduled appointments—and most charge substantial usage fees."

"So basically only nobles and the wealthy frequent them, and the rest of us make do with this," Acacia waved his hand dismissively.

"Naturally. They offer privacy and superior resources," Pandora acknowledged. "Though many instructors believe that Grounds promote more practical application, as they force Thaumaturges to adapt to natural conditions rather than controlled environments."

"So why are we here instead of at a facility? Surely you should have all the privileges in the city."

"Because, Acacia Belmont," she fixed him with a pointed stare, "First, as I mentioned, natural conditions provide better foundational understanding. Second, outdoor spaces allow for more comprehensive demonstration of different thaumaturgical types without concern for structural damage. And finally, I've found that instruction tends to sink in better when the student is at least somewhat uncomfortable."

"That last one sounds suspiciously like an excuse to torture me..." Acacia looked like he was about to cry and like in typical fashion, the ghost of a smile touched Pandora's lips.

Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.

"Consider it additional motivation to pay attention. Now, before we begin properly… what do you already know about Thaumaturgy?"

Acacia straightened as his mind instantly organized the fragments of knowledge he'd gathered through years of observation, crappy teachers, and clandestine research.

"Basically, Thaumaturgy is the manipulation of prana. Prana is a form of energy existing between states of matter that can temporarily override physical laws and create effects that appear miraculous to observers. We've been able to use prana since the Great Corruption of 0 E.V. when cracks in the world started forming—Ley Lines. Due to this, prana exists and emanates in all things living due to the Convergence's influence, and prana can neither be created nor destroyed by said organisms, merely transferred between states. Most people can access and manipulate prana to varying degrees based on natural talent, training, and in some cases, genetic predisposition."

He paused, gauging Pandora's reaction. When she merely nodded for him to continue, he pressed on.

"Thaumaturges can execute spells through a five-step process: Conceptualization, Integration, Reality Response, Calculation, and Release. In the simplest theoretical system, spells are governed by the E = (P × I × C) / R formula where Effect equals Prana Input multiplied by Intent Clarity then by Calculation Precision, all divided by Reality Resistance." He sighed as his tone took on a more bitter edge. "Irregulars like me have effectively zero Prana Input, rendering the equation meaningless regardless of other factors."

Pandora studied him, rather surprised at his knowledge.

"Impressive. Where did you learn this?"

"Books," Acacia replied simply. "It's amazing what people will discuss in front of someone they consider irrelevant."

"And yet, despite your extensive theoretical knowledge, you still requested me to teach you…?"

"Knowing facts isn't the same as understanding principles. I've memorized the what, but I need to comprehend the why and how. There's always more to learn, isn't there?"

The ebony woman nodded, something like approval flashing across her features.

"A wise distinction. Very well, let's begin with the foundation: what is prana, and where does it come from?"

She raised her hand, palm upward. Water materialized above it—not conjured from the atmosphere, but seemingly from nothing. The liquid spheres danced between her fingers, reflecting the morning light in hypnotic patterns.

"Prana is commonly described as the fifth state of matter, but that's a gross oversimplification," she explained as the water spun and twisted. "It's more accurate to say that prana is the manifestation of Ein Sof Ohr—the infinite light of the Convergence—within our dimensional existence. Prana exists everywhere"

Acacia leaned forward despite himself, fascinated by the casual display of water manipulation.

"Bismarck mentioned Ein Sof Ohr, but... she didn't fully explain it."

"Few can," Pandora admitted. "The concept exists beyond human comprehension to understand it fully. Think of it this way: the Convergence is the source of all possibility. Ein Sof Ohr is its purest emanation without bias nor subjectivity. 'Light' without end, information without cost, potential without limitation."

The water above her palm collapsed into a perfect sphere, then expanded into a complex crystalline structure.

"When this largest possible set of infinite potential interacts with our finite reality, it becomes filtered and constrained by dimensional laws. This filtered energy is what we call prana. It retains echoes of its unbounded origin, which is why it can temporarily override physical laws, yet remains bound by the fundamental principles of this plane."

As she manipulated the water, something on the ground caught Pandora's attention. She dispersed the liquid with a casual flick of her wrist and bent down to pluck a small plant from the grass.

"Look at this," she said, holding it between them. A four-leaf clover sat delicately between her fingers, its green leaves perfectly formed against her ebony skin. "What does this signify to you, Acacia?"

He hesitated as old memories began to surface. In Litore, in the gardens of the Sugoroku Empire where he'd spent his earliest years, such plants were carefully removed once discovered.

"Well... in my culture, four-leaf clovers are considered harbingers of misfortune. Finding one means evil is approaching. Mothers would uproot them to protect their children from ill fate," he answered truthfully.

"Oh really? Interesting." Pandora twirled the small plant between her fingers. "Here in the west, it's quite the opposite. Four-leaf clovers are rare treasures, symbols of good fortune and happiness. Finding one is considered a blessing."

She held it out toward him.

"So tell me, who is right? Your culture or the Western belief?"

Acacia stared at the innocent plant, uncertain of where she was leading.

"Neither? Both? It's just a mutation in a common plant, right? The meaning is whatever people assign to it."

"Exactly, and yet, the same concept carries completely different meanings depending on who observes it. This is Subjective Reality—the personal framework through which each sentient being interprets and understands the world. Every being with a mind or consciousness, tethered to the soul, possesses its own Subjective Reality. What one person sees as a blessing, another sees as a curse. What appears valuable to one mind might seem worthless to another. Where one person sees murder as evil, another may see it as an utilitarian good. What is perceived is shaped by a myriad of factors: culture, upbringing, experiences, beliefs, desires, fears."

"I understand that, but how is that related to prana? Sounds like basic psychology to me."

"Well, Thaumaturgy functions by using prana to project one's Subjective Reality outward, temporarily overriding Objective Reality—the physical world as it exists independent of perception. Through prana, a Thaumaturge can impose their subjective understanding onto the objective world, creating a momentary 'error' or 'gap' that allows for phenomena that would otherwise be physically impossible. Basically, Thaumaturgy allows people to manifest their personal truth upon the world, transforming thought into tangible effect."

She held out the clover again as it glowed a silvery tint, what Acacia assumed to be Pandora's prana flowing through it.

"However, alterations can never be permanent. That is a fundamental limitation of prana. Objective Reality will always reassert itself, correcting the 'error' created by the Thaumaturge's intervention. True permanence can only be achieved with Ein Sof Ohr. That's why all spells must inherently be limited in duration or range. Otherwise, it can no longer be a spell... it would be something transcendent to that."

"Like Magic." Acacia snorted, but Pandora got really close to him.

"Yes... Magic." She said it seriously, but Acacia couldn't help but burst into laughter.

"Pfft, yeah, like it really exists. C'mon, Pandora. I'm not an idiot. Magic is a fairy tale for kids. A made-up concept to explain things people don't understand."

His laughter died in his throat as Pandora's expression remained unchanged.

"People thought the same way about the existence of Thaumaturgy until the Great Corruption, did they not? The ability to manipulate the laws of the world was considered the height of absurdity, yet now it is an accepted part of our world."

Acacia opened his mouth but closed it again. He couldn't argue with that logic. A little bit over four centuries ago, the idea of Thaumaturgy would likely have been laughed at by an ancient. And now, it was a reality for them.

"Some things that exist shouldn't be possible even with Thaumaturgy, like the «Red Key» you have, or the «Dead Sea Scrolls» that the Viceroy showed us. To deny that these things exist would be a contradiction. So... the point is, Magic is real. It's the manipulation of Ein Sof Ohr. It's also the ultimate source of all miracles, the power governing the Convergence. But unlike prana, which is limited and ephemeral, Magic can manifest any possibility regardless of its complexity, scope, or scale. If a person were to harness this power, there'd be no bounds to what they could achieve. However, for beings like us, not even infinite time or resources could allow one to actually wield Ein Sof Ohr freely, so it's a pipe dream."

So basically…

If Thaumaturgy was the manipulation of natural law, Magic was the manipulation of concepts that transcend natural law.

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