Since we were both powerful enough to cast a portal alone, neither of us had experimented with spell casting in a group.
And it showed; after a few hours, we had nothing. Well, our relationship was definitely moving to the next level with all the hand-holding.
Even Alira became visibly frustrated. “OK, I think I see the problem,” she said, then continued.
“I understand the need to keep secrets, but you both need to open up some information. I imagine mages that cast portal all have a general idea of what they are trying to cast.”
“Well, I’m not going first.” Red was quick to retort.
Guess I needed to be the risk-taker. If it were only me, I might have bargained a bit more, but in the end, it was some medical knowledge; it can’t be that much of an advantage if he knew it as well.
“Fine, we clearly have bone damage and maybe muscle and tendon injuries on top of that.” I started delving into how bones are made, how muscles work, and the tendons that connect the two. I had to go on a tangent about what they are made of but didn’t push it more as it got into physics with chemical elements, and judging by his eyes, he was absorbing every bit of info.
I even explained the idea behind stem cells and how those cells will differentiate into what we need to heal us.
“Obviously there is way more, but the more complex we get to, the more I have a hard time explaining without other knowledge to fill in the gaps. So let’s hope it’s enough on my end,” I finished.
“That wasn’t much,” Red responded. “But I guess I can give you a basic idea of my thought process of creating the spell.”
“It is not an exact science; as you said, magic can fill in the gaps,” but there are some rules. “While everyone insists on the visualizing part, the most important part is understanding the fundamental elements.”
He was confirming why the conjured food was almost useless; they basically didn’t understand anything about it, and it was magic doing the heavy lifting.
“Now obviously you get to the visualizing, and the image in your mind has to be as clear as possible, but everybody knows that from magic school.”
Not everyone. Maybe I should have taken a few classes at the Mage Tower. It wasn’t like I didn’t want to stay a few more days. Damn, it was exciting to invent stuff on the fly, but I now realize that over thousands of years, they surely must have come up with some good ideas, if only through trial and error.
“The next part is intent; it’s pretty self-explanatory. But we come to the most important part of spell creation... Perception,” he continued.
“Why perception? That’s for traps and sensing hidden people.” Alira asked.
“Intelligence isn’t enough to craft a spell with any real purpose. Think of it this way: with enough intelligence and research, you can create spells to blow up, but to create something useful, you have to feel the magic and carefully shape it. It’s like sculpting, except the material is energy. Rushing it with brute force can result in a chaotic mess. The key is patience and control.”
“Perception plays a huge role here. It’s not about seeing the end result laid out for you, but more like sensing the subtle shifts in the magic as you work. It’s almost like an inner instinct, nudging you when you’re on the right track or veering off course. You don’t exactly hear or see it, but you feel it. Through careful adjustments and focus, you can fine-tune the energy into a spell that does exactly what you intend it to, rather than just causing chaos.”
That wasn’t actually very helpful. “But how do you become more perceptive?” I asked.
“Unfortunately, that’s not something you can teach directly,” he said. “But if I had to give some advice, it’s like this: imagine yourself walking through a city. What do you see?”
Clearly, it was a trick question, but I humored him. “I guess the road, the houses, the people, the sky… stuff like that.”
He smiled. “And you’d be correct. But did you imagine what the road is made of? The architecture of each house? What the people were wearing? How many clouds were in the sky?”
“I see your point,” I said simply.
“The more you develop an eye for detail and observe the world around you, the better you’ll get at translating that into spell creation. You can add more details without losing the thread holding them together. But it’s something you build over time. And it takes a lot of patience.”
I guess that explained why he picked up information even better than I did. He had years of practice.
“Well, that’s all I’ve got for now,” he said, glancing at me. “And you owe me, I’ve shared way more than you have. How about telling me more about those elements you were talking about earlier, the ones you said make up everything?”
“Look, if we get out of this, I will explain more about those; does that seem fair?” I asked.
“It will have to do,” he grumbled. “Now give your hand pink skin.”
Guess he was allowed to give me a nickname as well. Could have been worse.Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.
As I reached out and grabbed his hand, there was a shift, a sensation I couldn’t quite put into words. Maybe our connection had deepened after all, because I felt his magic—at least, I thought that’s what it was.
It wasn’t like I could quantify it or really measure the feeling, but there was definitely a raw energy there. He felt powerful, though not as overwhelming as I had initially imagined. Still, it was enough to surprise me, and I think the feeling was mutual. Red seemed a bit taken aback as well, his eyes widening slightly. He held my gaze for a moment longer than necessary, as if trying to figure out what had happened.
Maybe it was trust. Without it, there was no bridge between our magic. Now there was definitely a link.
He was the first to snap out of it.
“Focus on the bone,''“ Red muttered, his eyes half-lidded as he channeled the magic. “See how it mends in your world. Show me.”
I closed my eyes and visualized it: the clean break of a bone slowly re-knitting, new tissue forming along the fracture, hardening over time. Muscles, too, growing back, layer by layer, reattaching to bone, tendon stretching, and binding together again. The key was not just making it happen, but doing so in a way that sped up the body’s natural process without harming it.
“I’m sensing it,” Red whispered. “Go on.”
Taking a deep breath, I imagined the magic like a surgeon’s tool. I could almost sense the energy moving through me, guided by both of our wills. The idea was to gently coax the body’s cells to work faster—to accelerate what they already knew how to do. I tried to apply my medical knowledge of bone healing. First, the inflammation stage, then the soft callus formation, and finally the hard callus that would solidify the bone.
“Now,” I said through gritted teeth, “send it to the body.”
The energy flowed between us, and I could feel the spell taking shape. It wasn’t just magic anymore. It was healing magic with purpose—targeted, precise. Red’s energy fused with my vision of healing, and suddenly, I could feel the bones knitting in my body, muscles reattaching, tendons stretching and settling into place. The spell was working.
When we opened our eyes, the magic had dissipated. Red looked at me with something like awe. “We did it,” he said.
“Yeah,” I muttered, still amazed. “We just created a healing spell.”
We didn’t dare move for a few minutes. Best to leave the spell time to finish; who knew if we could do it a second time? Better safe than sorry.
Eventually I lost patience, and Alira came and started gently applying pressure on where the wounds were.
“I feel fine” before I could say more, Red stood up next to me.
Clearly, me and Alira were on the same page as his towering height suddenly started ringing alarm bells. Both of us stood up, more out of instinct.
“He looked at me intensely, and I could see indecision in his movements.” If he was going to try something, he would have done it by now.
Instead of attacking, he spoke, “I can see you’re still apprehensive about this, and I admit when we began, I was worried about when we might end up fighting each other. But believe it or not, I’ve come to respect you... a little, and I can work with that.”
He seemed sincere, but it was hard to forget how dismissive he’d been of me before. I couldn’t shake the feeling that his change in attitude had less to do with respect and more to do with the ‘moment’ when we both felt our magic. I didn’t think he was absolutely sure anymore that he would win, and that uncertainty was written all over him, no matter how hard he tried to hide it.
I finally broke eye contact and said with a soft smile, “We created a new spell; a little mutual respect is only natural.” Obviously, it wasn’t the spell, but we both needed some plausible deniability.
“Yes, I dare say it’s the first healing spell a mage has ever cast. Too bad we can’t use it alone; it would be very useful.” Red said.
“One more reason for us to remain respectful. Who knows which one of us will need it in the future?”
After a short silence, Alira decided to break the tension. “It’s good all that hand-holding paid off in the end; otherwise, it would have been awkward.”
“I don’t know. It was kind of nice; he has warm hands,” I said with a small smile.
“Should I be worried?” Alira retorted.
Red scoffed. “Don’t worry, he is all yours.”
─── ????? ───
We gave ourselves a day or so to fully recover. Alira suggested we wait an extra day, but the idea of eating more conjured food pushed me to persuade them otherwise. I argued that the food would only sap our strength further. The time to strike was now.
As we crept through the ruins of the city, my heart began to pound harder with every step. Not only was I about to face a dragon again, but I couldn’t shake the nagging thought of all the ways Red might betray me. Every shadow felt like a potential ambush, every sound like the prelude to a knife in the back. Trust was a luxury I couldn’t afford, and it made the already daunting task feel even more impossible. At one point, I pretended to examine something more carefully, allowing Red to take the lead. That gave me a moment to exchange a meaningful look with Alira, followed by a quick glance toward Red.
Rather than easing my mind, the glance left me more anxious. I couldn’t help but wonder what Alira might have inferred from it. I hoped she realized I meant for her to keep an eye on Red; maybe warn me if anything seemed off. But it could just as easily be misunderstood as a signal to strike at the perfect moment. However, with Red at full strength, I doubted she’d take that kind of risk or assume that I would put her in such a dangerous position.
Moving slowly, we both were trying to be quiet, but we were far from Alira’s grace. As the terrain became more filled with rocks and debris, she took the lead to give us an easier path to follow.
“This way,” she whispered, her voice barely audible over the crunch of debris under our boots.
The closer we got to the dragon’s lair, the more destruction we encountered. Large scorch marks covered the walls, and the ground was littered with what remained of previous orc adventurers—burnt armor, shattered weapons, charred bones. Every step closer felt like stepping deeper into a nightmare.
Finally, we reached the entrance to the lair, a massive cave hidden within the remains of what must have been the city’s central temple. Alira motioned to us to take the lead as the road became less and less covered with debris.
Inside, the lair was far more immense than I’d imagined. The ceiling stretched high above us, disappearing into darkness. In the distance lay the dragon. Its black scales glistened, reflecting the dim light that managed to reach him.
We both froze when we saw him, and I think we both realized just how terrible this place was for a fight. If the dragon could see in the dark, it could easily retreat deeper into the cave, gaining the upper hand. Sure, I had my night vision spell, but it demanded constant focus, which made it far from ideal for a prolonged battle.
A few more moments might have given us time to come up with a plan, but it sensed our presence. The shadows ahead stirred, and suddenly, the dragon’s eyes snapped open. Those glowing yellow eyes stood out vividly against the dark, piercing through the blackness.
“Now or never,” I muttered.