August 1069
"What does this have to do with magic?" Eva asked, looking up from where she was trying, and not really succeeding, at making a campfire.
"Technically? Nothing," I said, sitting nearby, not helping. "It has more to do with character."
After another few seconds of trying and failing to get the tinder to light, she sighed in frustration and sat back.
We were out back behind my house, a few hours past noon. For Eva, the schedule roughly went breakfast and morning with her family, six to ten hours with me on various tasks, and then the rest of the day-slash-evening with her family. That schedule might change in the future, but until I had a better grasp of what she could do, how she took to magic, and how she learned, there wasn't a point in changing it.
That said, so far a good chunk of her tutoring time had been taken up by either various forms of manual labor, learning to read, and the occasional discourse on magical theory.
"What's the first thing I said when I started teaching you?" I asked.
"Youuu… said that magic is about belief," she said slowly, as if not entirely sure.
I nodded. "Ignoring skill, ignoring knowledge, ignoring power, magic, at its core, requires one thing: conviction, or belief. You need to believe, deep inside yourself, that it is right that you have magic. You need to have the will to change the world, and more than that, you need to have the conviction that it is right for you to change the world. If you don't believe in yourself and what you're doing with magic, your performance will suffer, and your gift will wither. Now, can you connect that with what I mean by character?"
Eva looked at me for a few seconds – not in the eyes, that's one of the first things I drilled out of her – before turning back to the cold pile of tinder. "You don't need to believe in something good," she said slowly. "Just… something. Right?"
"Exactly. And not believing in the right things can be dangerous," I said. "Especially because magic is self-reinforcing. Wizards and witches are some of the most stubborn people on the planet, and it's because magic strengthens the beliefs that fuel it. More than other people, your beliefs form the foundation of who and what you are. So, I want you to start with the right foundation."
"Planet?" she asked.
"Oh, we'll get to that, believe me," I said. "But astronomy and geography is a ways off yet."
She nodded. "Alright. But why are you making me start a fire? Do I really need to know that?"
"Practically speaking, you're not always going to have a servant around to do it for you."
"But couldn't I just use magic to do so?" she asked.
I took a deep breath. "Two parts to that. First, probably, but there's no guarantee you'll be able to manage that kind of pyrokinesis. Second, why do you think you should use magic to light a fire?"
Eva blinked. "Because I have it, and it's easier." She frowned. "Is that wrong?"
"If magic is your first resort to a problem, what happens when you... say, run into someone who's rude? Not physically imposing, but just rude. Mocking, verbally offensive, hurtful, whatever you can imagine. Is your reaction to them to ignore them, to fight back verbally, to punch them?" I gave her a look. "Or is it to use magic to get them to stop? To get them to like you?"
Eva blinked, then looked back at the fire. "And… why not?"
It was a genuine question asked out of ignorance, so there was no stern or dry look to give. Instead, I took a few moments to formulate a response.
"Consider the next question just on its own, without any context. If you found yourself in a position to kill your father's liege-lord, who he doesn't like, and nobody would ever know, would you do it?"
"No," she said instantly, which is a good sign.
"Why?"
"Because it's wrong, because God forbids murder."
"And what about just threatening him to favor your father? Assume he would hold to that," I went on.
"I… no. It's wrong," she said with a shake of her head.
"Then what's the difference between threatening someone with a knife to get them to do what you want, and using magic to get them to do what you want?" I asked.
"I… it's worse?" she tried.
"Don't say what you think I want to hear, say what you think. I'm not going to berate you for that," I said.
Eva folded her hands together and rested her chin on them, tapping a foot against the ground as she thought. "It's… similar, but worse, because… because I have to believe in it. Really believe in it. I have to think it's right to get them to do what I want."
I nodded. "Good. Now, there's a lot of nuance to that, which we'll explore over time, but that's the basic idea you have to remember. Your attitudes about magic, about how you use it, will come to inform everything about you. If you come to think that magic is the quickest and easiest solution to your problems, you will default to magic as a solution. And in some situations you'll face as a witch, magic will be the only solution, or at least the only viable solution. But not in every circumstance.
"There are seven Laws of Magic. Think of them like the Ten Commandments: statements and judgments that describe what is wrong, what Should Not Be Done. Only the first six are really going to be relevant to you throughout your training, and if you stick things through and decide you want to continue being a witch, we'll cover the seventh near the end. Now, in order, they are: Thou Shalt Not Kill, Thou Shalt Not Transform Others, Thou Shalt Not Invade the Mind of Another, Thou Shalt Not Enthrall Another, Thou Shalt Not Reach Beyond the Borders of Life, and Thou Shalt Not Swim Against the Currents of Time. They're generally self-explanatory, in my opinion, but we'll explore each of them over time."
Eva frowned thoughtfully. "So… don't use magic to harm others?"
"There's more leeway and nuance to that, but that's a good foundation to start off with," I said, nodding. "And not necessarily one you may ever have to deviate from, if you don't choose to get involved in dangerous situations."
"Then… this is teaching me to not rely on magic," she said slowly, turning to the pile of tinder.
"Exactly. Well, among other things," I said.
"What other things?" she asked, turning to look at me.
I arched an eyebrow at her. "You tell me."
She let out a sigh of frustration and turned back to the fire, and I suppressed a grin. Man, I'd forgotten how much fun messing with an apprentice could be.
"You can think aloud, if you want," I added. "In fact, in the early stages, I'd recommend it. It'll help me figure out your logic and if you're missing something, or getting it wrong."
Eva nodded idly. "You didn't tell me how to start a fire, you just told me to do it," she said slowly. "And I don't know how to do that. I've never done it. I…" She turned to look at me. "Do you know how to start a fire?"
"I do," I said.
She gave me a look. "Then can you show me how?"
"If you can express why I went about this in a roundabout fashion, sure," I said.
"To teach me when to ask for help," she said, annoyed.
"There's that. That's most of it, in fact. You are missing one detail though," I said.
Her lips quirked into a frown.
"I lied earlier, about this having nothing to do with magic. Magic is often first expressed in a moment of extreme desire, panic, frustration, something like that." I glanced at the pile of tinder. "I figure lighting a bonfire while I'm around is about the safest way your first time could go."
If looks could kill, hers wouldn't. But it would hurt.
Later, once I'd shown her how to start a fire and gotten her to do it a few times, snuffing out the flames before they could really get going each time, we left the impromptu firepit alone and went into my house to get into the literacy training. Before that though, she had questions.
"Will I get a staff?" she asked.
I poured out some watered ale for me and boiled water for her, then gave her her cup. "That depends on you, and it's a bit of a lengthy topic. Sit down."
She nodded and took a seat at the central table, while I went to sit on my bed so I could properly stretch my legs. "Now, there are two… axes, let's call them, to this question. Wand versus staff, and single focus versus multi-foci. Regarding the first, wands and staves serve essentially the same purpose. They are general purpose foci that wizards and witches use to help control and focus their magic. Contrary to what you may hear later on, there is no qualitative difference between the two. A staff will perform as well as a wand when it comes to magic. The real trade-offs between the two have nothing to do with magic. Wands are smaller, somewhat easier to construct, more maneuverable, and definitely easier to hide. Staves are larger, take more wood and time to make, and you can't really hide them, but if I need to club a ghoul over the head and the only thing I have is a wand, I'm shit out of luck."
Eva gave me a surprised look.
"Right, vulgarity. A little surprised that's shocking to you, but alright," I said. "Now, for me, the fact that a staff is conspicuous is completely meaningless. I'm a stupendously tall, scarred man with a weird sense of fashion and around whom the temperature is perpetually off. There is no situation in which I will not stand out as an outsider. In your case, though, depending on how your magic affects your surroundings, you could reasonably pass as just a regular person, so the notability and connotations of a staff are something you should consider. Also, if you don't expect to need to defend yourself at any moment, then a staff is even less important.
"As to the second axis, it's the magically relevant one. Wizards that use wands tend to, from what I've observed, use wands for everything. They have the one focus, and that's it. They don't really specialize. I, meanwhile, currently have three foci. My staff, for general use. My shield bracelet," I rolled back my sleeve and showed it off to her, "for defense, and my blasting rod," I pulled back my duster and took out something that only a blind man could mistake for a wand, "for fire magic."
"What about your sword?" she asked.
"It's a sword. I don't use it to do magic," I replied. "Getting back to the topic, I have one general focus, and two specialized foci. To preempt your question about why people prefer to use only one focus and not specialize, the answer is that there's some debate as to the actual efficacy of specialized foci, that they don't actually provide any additional benefit over a general focus."
"But, doesn't that… not make sense? You don't use a sword as a table knife, so…"
I smiled. "What's the foundational rule of magic?"
Eva made an 'oh' face. "Magic is fueled by belief." She frowned thoughtfully. "So because they think it doesn't have any effect, it doesn't?"
"Maybe. Or maybe they're right independent of that. Or maybe, because that's the common consensus, it empowers wands to make them stronger generalists." I frowned thoughtfully myself. "There's a term for that, I'm just not sure…" I winced as pain lanced through my head. "Mythopoeia. Mythopoeia. That's the word. The making of myths, or the power of belief. If enough people believe in something strongly enough, then that thing becomes… more true, if that makes sense."
Eva shook her head.
"You'll wrap your head around it," I said. "Though either way, you getting a wand or a staff is a ways off. At least six months, I figure."
"So long?" she asked, her tone vaguely forlorn.
I chuckled. "Eva, an apprenticeship in magic is not a short thing. It took me eight years until I was deemed ready. There were some extenuating circumstances there, me starting earlier than you, a change in masters, some... other reasons, but that should still give you some idea of just how long it takes to actually get proficient. And there are a lot of basics we need to get through before you should even start worrying about foci." I got up off the bed. "Also, I'll probably need that long to convince your parents anyway."
She frowned. "Why? Convince them of what?"
"Well, once I figured you were ready to start making foci, I'd take you on a field trip to London to get the materials. And I am not looking forward to the conversation wherein I'll have to convince your father to let you leave with me for at least a week. Now, enough talk. Reading time."
Author's Note: Yes, I know the general definition of mythopoeia doesn't really fit what Harry described. I'm leaning more on the Elder Scrolls side of it, since it has a significant belief-influences-reality bent to its overall lore.