"This was a mistake. Don't call me again, Magnus."
I stretched and rolled over, then summoned a flame spirit to my fingertip to light an herbal cigarette. My witch of an ex-wife snatched it from my hand and took a drag before using it to gesture at me.
"This is coming with me. You're lucky I don't curse you for that miserable performance. After all these years I offer you a chance to get back with me and all you have to offer is some rushed foreplay and about forty seconds of being crushed beneath you. I should have known better honestly, I don't know why I believed you'd be any different now."
"This usually never happens to me. My energy was sapped by tending to the cauldron, you know how it is."
She glared at me, silently scraping her clawed fingers through her hair before slamming her pointed black hat back onto her head.
"Come back to bed, we can try again in an hour or two."
"I need to shower. Do not visit me, do not write me any more letters, and, once again, do NOT call me."
The door slammed behind her hard enough to knock a few loose pebbles down from the stone walls of my tower. I lifted my open palm towards the ceiling and cast short-range remote viewing on my front lawn just in time to see her take off on her broomstick. Sighing, I let my hand fall onto my chest. I studied my fingers, now grown soft with disuse.
Magic has provided me with a simpler life, but I have perhaps become a bit over reliant on it. The risks I put up with to master the Magical Arts are incalculable.
A chime rang out from above my cauldron as the brew within reached its perfect temperature. I waved my arm in a wide circle, mimed a dipping motion, then waved towards my face. A ladle began to stir the simmering liquid, dipped out a small amount, then flew towards me. I leaned up to meet it, sipping hungrily.
The essence of sea cucumber complements the broth perfectly. I knew it would.
I snapped and the ladle returned to its pot.
There's no reason not to use magic in my daily life. I am learning it for a reason after all, and the spirits that obey my whims already have their offerings this month. What am I supposed to do, not make use of them?
I groaned as I rolled my legs out of bed, striding over to the mirror to inspect myself. My mirror shivered, then a perfect ('perfect' as defined by my own tastes, at any rate) version of myself stood reflected before me. Muscles rippled under flawless skin. Soft, purple curls bloomed across my chest and cascaded down from my head, framing my studious, vibrant expression in a dramatic and striking fashion.
"I appreciate that, but please show me my true self, spirits."
The reflection melted back into my softer, shorter shape. My hair needed a deep conditioning, and my skin had grown pale. A patch of acne spread across my left shoulder. Only the eyes remained the same.
Perhaps…I could use magic less…in some areas. Nothing is really preventing me from walking to the market sometimes, and I do need to test my new snow yam infused sunblock. How do the mortals in the village solve their daily trails?
I walked to my cauldron and dipped a serving of my soup into a hand-carved horn bowl. The ladle slipped from my grasp and sank down into the cauldron, disappearing beneath the bubbling liquid.
How would a mortal get their ladle back? Do they just…reach in there? They must have a spirit willing to help them with that, at least.
I waved the ladle back into place and sat down, sipping contemplatively at my soup.
And in other matters…how do they behave?
I glanced towards my bed.
Do they possess some secret which I, the great wizard Rasmodius, the knower of the unknown, the seer of the unseen, the master of all that which may be mastered and several things which may not, do not know!?
I left my bowl, still half full and steaming, on the table and marched over to my bookshelf. Two blue juminos hopped on the table as I left. They marched quietly away, carrying the bowl of broth between them. I grabbed a copy of Ye Olde Kinktober from the shelf, blew the dust off of it, and flipped to its table of contents as I approached my summoning circle. The circle glowed purple as I stepped within it. I crossed my legs and focused, hovering a foot above the ground.
Unacceptable! I will know everything. Everything! And then I'll show that witch not to write me off.
The book balanced on my knee, its table of contents open to me. I drew all my power inward and focused, forcing my essence into the form of a purple beetle. My own vision grew hazy, dimmed, then brightened again through the eyes of my astral form. My beetle-shaped soul was resting on my own body's bent knee. I stretched my wings wide, shivering as my spirit melted completely into the six-limbed creature I now was.
Astral viewing should work well for this. A simple scrying pool would be fine for viewing current events, but with this I can travel through time as easily as through space. And with this tome as my focal point I shall send my soul out in search of tangible examples of the magics it describes.
My beetle body took a step and then jumped off the end of my human body's kneecap before catching itself in the air.
I'll just see what they're up to. It looks like chapter one is about…hmm…fascinating…