Hocus Pocus
1 'Ooooooh!' Came a strained and rather flustered voice. 'That's not right either... agh, I'll just try again, then.' The speaker said aloud, keeping up his habit of talking to himself. He stood and strode around the room a few times before settling down on a cushion in front of a large window. He sat with his back to it and sighed thoughtfully.
'... Young Master?' Said a timid male voice from an open door that was closed only a few moments ago.
'What is it, Arthur?' he replied rather impatiently.
'Dinner, Young Master,' Arthur said as though he regretted saying so.
'I do not wish for dinner.'
'Then could I bring you something instead?'
'If you must,' He said, his voice softening some. He held up a hand as Arthur turned to leave. 'Nay, hold a moment... do not... do not tell my father what I am doing. I know you are brighter than you are given credit for, and you can tell certainly that I am not doing my studies, but keep it to yourself, if you will.'
'Yes, Master Clow.' Arthur bowed his head slightly and left the room, closing the door behind him.
Clow sighed and stood up again. He began to pace restlessly, remembering the words of his father, about how patients was their creed, but ignoring it for the time being. He had been experimenting with several spells that strictly required a certain phase of the moon. He was trying to see if he could make them work if the moon was in the wrong phase, but had been so far unsuccessful. His father frowned on Clow's efforts so far with spell experimentation, as Clow's last attempt resulted in his, and his supervising servant's, clothes falling off inexplicably. His father was rather vexed at this, and forbade Clow from doing such experiments again. Clow believed that this had something to do with the fact that the servant who had been supervising him was a young lady. He had done more than his father, though, who had only written his first spell two years ago, whereas Clow already had a pretty hefty Book of Shadows.
Still, being forbidden to do so wasn't going to stop him. There was so much potential in so many spells he had seen that the writer had either ignored it, or simply wasn't clever enough to see it. Clow knew he could unlock this potential, given time and resources, but all he had available to him now was his room, his Book of Shadows, and his study notebooks. He was restricted to his room, except for meals, and he had been temporarily relieved of his study texts and alchemy sets. His father claimed it to be a 'break from magic' so he could 'indulge in other splendors of life' but all it was to Clow was punishment.
He didn't really mean to make their clothes fall apart, and when he explained it, no one would really listen. It was a little strange, because normaly Clow was allowed free reign of the house, library and apothecary, and he did make little mistakes from time to time, but everyone had always smiled and sent him back on his way, repairing whatever damage had been done, so Clow couldn't see how this was an different.
From what he recalled, the servant girl had been sent to kitchen duty, so Clow wouldn't see her again for a while. True, Clow had never seen a dressless maiden, but it shouldn't have mattered. It wasn't really a big deal to him, though it obviously was to everyone else. Clow had laughed at the time, it was rather a silly mistake. Now he was rather cross for his parent's out of character harshness. He would experiment all he liked.
And he would use the symbol he liked, too.
Clow had drawn several symbols, but he only really liked one, but out of the ones he had drawn, his father liked it the least. He thought it too different from the usual symbol style. Clow would use it anyway. A slight defiant smile touched Clow's lips. He did admire his father, though , for he did have great power compared to other sorcerers and he was very wise and usually knew what was best, but how was Clow to know if it was best until he had done everything else?
Clow opened one of his workbooks to the page he had used to draw symbol ideas and frowned at the casual cross over his favorite one. He committed it to memory and opened another notebook, his largest, and the one he referred to most often, though no one else knew of its existence. It contained information he had found in the library books and he had found it far more interesting than the other things in his study notebooks. He had copied down some fascinating, though controversial spells and information on magical theory he doubted his father would let him get at so early, and maybe even some his father didn't even know.
With a moment's concentration, Clow charged his hands with the spell he would use to inscribe his symbol into his magic aura. Tracing with his fingers, he drew the symbol into the air before him. He may have been able to manipulate some spells so there was no need to wait for a specific phase of the moon, but he couldn't work some of the stronger ones without a symbol. So far he wasn't allowed to use the advanced spells that needed a personal symbol, but he would have been soon, seeing as he was told to design symbols as he studied.
Once he had traced his symbol into the air, it flared suddenly, burning itself into his aura and weaving itself around his person, as unique as he was, and perfectly compatible. Clow couldn't help but smile. He was now just like any other sorcerer, no longer a student, but an apprentice, with all of the potential to become a true master. He was complete, but for a few little holes in the knowledge he had up to that point, having paid more attention to the things considered 'out of his league' than to the things he actually was studying. Even with those little holes, there was no problem., he simply improvised, though fortunately no one knew this. Apparently improvisation when it came to magic was not looked upon with praise, which was why sorcerers usually ended up writing only two or three spells in their lifetime.
Bull cocky, Clow thought. Too little to be worth anything. It was such a waste. So far he had a dozen or so, each scrawled into his Book of Shadows. There was a Book of Shadows that was a family heirloom, but Clow wanted to have his very own, namingly because he didn't want to use up the rest of the pages in the family book, and also because he didn't particularly want to let everyone know just how many spells he had and what kinds he was writing.
Clow glanced at the spell he had copied in his notebook, and thought of how he could manipulate it. Fortunately, it had no material components so all he really had to do was chant and wave his arms a lot. Well, not really wave, but it was just more amusing to say it that way.
He began the incantation, smiling as his symbol appeared at his feet in shimmering golden lines of light, and concentrated on the flow of magic around him, second nature to him, of course, but the way the spell was coming was the way it was supposed to be coming, and if he did nothing to change the flow, it would fail because of the phase of the moon. Perhaps if he altered how the power of the moon was in the room...? He shifted his hands and strayed slightly from the proper somatic movements of the spell and drew upon the moons essence, changing it, then feeding it to the spell.
What the spell was supposed to do was open a small portal into the elemental plane of his choosing, air, he had decided, and it took about ten minutes to cast on average. Clow wasn't average though. Skipping over the things that the spell write had failed to notice weren't necessary to the spell and going with ease through the complicated parts that lengthened the casting time without faltering or botching the spell came to him, and it was more than natural, and he had no words to explain how.
The only things that ruined his spells were if his suspicion about how to change the spell to suit his needs instead changed it in a different manner. There was, after all, far too much excess components to most spells he saw, and he had never come across a raw spell brought down to it's basics, ones that could be cast without words, without materials... only thought and will and magic.
The door opened. Clow wasn't startled at this, no, for it was a very rare thing indeed that startled him, but he did not sense the person approach his room, he was distracted with his spell, and his concentration wavered. It was Arthur, there to deliver Clow his meal.
Clow had ceased his chanting, and he realized too late that he shouldn't have. A tear in the air itself formed in front of him, its mouth rimmed with the same golden light that his symbol was currently composed of. It should have been a portal, not a tear, and it didn't lead to the elemental plane of air. Arthur dropped the tray with a loud cry of surprise, and hurried out of sight. No doubt to get his father, Clow thought dismally, but most of his thoughts fell away when he looked at the "portal" he had opened.
No... that wasn't right at all... swirling masses of darkness raged madly on the other side...
Cow tapped into the flow of magic within himself once more and started to work away at the rip to another plane. The sights within the tear changed, but didn't disappear, and Clow felt himself being drawn in. He could see loose papers being blown in to alternate dimensions, and he would soon be following if he didn't stop it. A flash of power came from his outstretched hands and the scene within changed again... crystal blue sky, ground far below filled with trees and green. The ground, he realized with a start, seemed to be coming closer, and as the air around him whipped through his hair, and his feet touched ground no longer, he knew he was falling.
He had been staring so fixedly at the tear that he didn't realize that he had already been pulled in. He twisted to see the golden mouth of the portal close behind him, and then the sky and ground were gone, and masses of darkness consumed him.
1 'Ooooooh!' Came a strained and rather flustered voice. 'That's not right either... agh, I'll just try again, then.' The speaker said aloud, keeping up his habit of talking to himself. He stood and strode around the room a few times before settling down on a cushion in front of a large window. He sat with his back to it and sighed thoughtfully.
'... Young Master?' Said a timid male voice from an open door that was closed only a few moments ago.
'What is it, Arthur?' he replied rather impatiently.
'Dinner, Young Master,' Arthur said as though he regretted saying so.
'I do not wish for dinner.'
'Then could I bring you something instead?'
'If you must,' He said, his voice softening some. He held up a hand as Arthur turned to leave. 'Nay, hold a moment... do not... do not tell my father what I am doing. I know you are brighter than you are given credit for, and you can tell certainly that I am not doing my studies, but keep it to yourself, if you will.'
'Yes, Master Clow.' Arthur bowed his head slightly and left the room, closing the door behind him.
Clow sighed and stood up again. He began to pace restlessly, remembering the words of his father, about how patients was their creed, but ignoring it for the time being. He had been experimenting with several spells that strictly required a certain phase of the moon. He was trying to see if he could make them work if the moon was in the wrong phase, but had been so far unsuccessful. His father frowned on Clow's efforts so far with spell experimentation, as Clow's last attempt resulted in his, and his supervising servant's, clothes falling off inexplicably. His father was rather vexed at this, and forbade Clow from doing such experiments again. Clow believed that this had something to do with the fact that the servant who had been supervising him was a young lady. He had done more than his father, though, who had only written his first spell two years ago, whereas Clow already had a pretty hefty Book of Shadows.
Still, being forbidden to do so wasn't going to stop him. There was so much potential in so many spells he had seen that the writer had either ignored it, or simply wasn't clever enough to see it. Clow knew he could unlock this potential, given time and resources, but all he had available to him now was his room, his Book of Shadows, and his study notebooks. He was restricted to his room, except for meals, and he had been temporarily relieved of his study texts and alchemy sets. His father claimed it to be a 'break from magic' so he could 'indulge in other splendors of life' but all it was to Clow was punishment.
He didn't really mean to make their clothes fall apart, and when he explained it, no one would really listen. It was a little strange, because normaly Clow was allowed free reign of the house, library and apothecary, and he did make little mistakes from time to time, but everyone had always smiled and sent him back on his way, repairing whatever damage had been done, so Clow couldn't see how this was an different.
From what he recalled, the servant girl had been sent to kitchen duty, so Clow wouldn't see her again for a while. True, Clow had never seen a dressless maiden, but it shouldn't have mattered. It wasn't really a big deal to him, though it obviously was to everyone else. Clow had laughed at the time, it was rather a silly mistake. Now he was rather cross for his parent's out of character harshness. He would experiment all he liked.
And he would use the symbol he liked, too.
Clow had drawn several symbols, but he only really liked one, but out of the ones he had drawn, his father liked it the least. He thought it too different from the usual symbol style. Clow would use it anyway. A slight defiant smile touched Clow's lips. He did admire his father, though , for he did have great power compared to other sorcerers and he was very wise and usually knew what was best, but how was Clow to know if it was best until he had done everything else?
Clow opened one of his workbooks to the page he had used to draw symbol ideas and frowned at the casual cross over his favorite one. He committed it to memory and opened another notebook, his largest, and the one he referred to most often, though no one else knew of its existence. It contained information he had found in the library books and he had found it far more interesting than the other things in his study notebooks. He had copied down some fascinating, though controversial spells and information on magical theory he doubted his father would let him get at so early, and maybe even some his father didn't even know.
With a moment's concentration, Clow charged his hands with the spell he would use to inscribe his symbol into his magic aura. Tracing with his fingers, he drew the symbol into the air before him. He may have been able to manipulate some spells so there was no need to wait for a specific phase of the moon, but he couldn't work some of the stronger ones without a symbol. So far he wasn't allowed to use the advanced spells that needed a personal symbol, but he would have been soon, seeing as he was told to design symbols as he studied.
Once he had traced his symbol into the air, it flared suddenly, burning itself into his aura and weaving itself around his person, as unique as he was, and perfectly compatible. Clow couldn't help but smile. He was now just like any other sorcerer, no longer a student, but an apprentice, with all of the potential to become a true master. He was complete, but for a few little holes in the knowledge he had up to that point, having paid more attention to the things considered 'out of his league' than to the things he actually was studying. Even with those little holes, there was no problem., he simply improvised, though fortunately no one knew this. Apparently improvisation when it came to magic was not looked upon with praise, which was why sorcerers usually ended up writing only two or three spells in their lifetime.
Bull cocky, Clow thought. Too little to be worth anything. It was such a waste. So far he had a dozen or so, each scrawled into his Book of Shadows. There was a Book of Shadows that was a family heirloom, but Clow wanted to have his very own, namingly because he didn't want to use up the rest of the pages in the family book, and also because he didn't particularly want to let everyone know just how many spells he had and what kinds he was writing.
Clow glanced at the spell he had copied in his notebook, and thought of how he could manipulate it. Fortunately, it had no material components so all he really had to do was chant and wave his arms a lot. Well, not really wave, but it was just more amusing to say it that way.
He began the incantation, smiling as his symbol appeared at his feet in shimmering golden lines of light, and concentrated on the flow of magic around him, second nature to him, of course, but the way the spell was coming was the way it was supposed to be coming, and if he did nothing to change the flow, it would fail because of the phase of the moon. Perhaps if he altered how the power of the moon was in the room...? He shifted his hands and strayed slightly from the proper somatic movements of the spell and drew upon the moons essence, changing it, then feeding it to the spell.
What the spell was supposed to do was open a small portal into the elemental plane of his choosing, air, he had decided, and it took about ten minutes to cast on average. Clow wasn't average though. Skipping over the things that the spell write had failed to notice weren't necessary to the spell and going with ease through the complicated parts that lengthened the casting time without faltering or botching the spell came to him, and it was more than natural, and he had no words to explain how.
The only things that ruined his spells were if his suspicion about how to change the spell to suit his needs instead changed it in a different manner. There was, after all, far too much excess components to most spells he saw, and he had never come across a raw spell brought down to it's basics, ones that could be cast without words, without materials... only thought and will and magic.
The door opened. Clow wasn't startled at this, no, for it was a very rare thing indeed that startled him, but he did not sense the person approach his room, he was distracted with his spell, and his concentration wavered. It was Arthur, there to deliver Clow his meal.
Clow had ceased his chanting, and he realized too late that he shouldn't have. A tear in the air itself formed in front of him, its mouth rimmed with the same golden light that his symbol was currently composed of. It should have been a portal, not a tear, and it didn't lead to the elemental plane of air. Arthur dropped the tray with a loud cry of surprise, and hurried out of sight. No doubt to get his father, Clow thought dismally, but most of his thoughts fell away when he looked at the "portal" he had opened.
No... that wasn't right at all... swirling masses of darkness raged madly on the other side...
Cow tapped into the flow of magic within himself once more and started to work away at the rip to another plane. The sights within the tear changed, but didn't disappear, and Clow felt himself being drawn in. He could see loose papers being blown in to alternate dimensions, and he would soon be following if he didn't stop it. A flash of power came from his outstretched hands and the scene within changed again... crystal blue sky, ground far below filled with trees and green. The ground, he realized with a start, seemed to be coming closer, and as the air around him whipped through his hair, and his feet touched ground no longer, he knew he was falling.
He had been staring so fixedly at the tear that he didn't realize that he had already been pulled in. He twisted to see the golden mouth of the portal close behind him, and then the sky and ground were gone, and masses of darkness consumed him.