Bonus: The nature of magic
Altogether now: Visualisation, elemental, micrology, physology
Today is a really fun bonus chapter, in which I dive into the magic system of Tales from the Triverse. It’s the kind of stuff that isn’t vital to know when reading the main book, but which nonetheless helps to create that feeling of verisimilitude.
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Fundamentals of magic (extract)
Encyclopaedia of the Triverse, 1962 edition
Palinor is unique to the three dimensions in that some of its inhabitants are able to make use of magic. There have been some attempts to rationalise this phenomenon, without much success. Hence the continuing use of the convenient, hand-waving term ‘magic’.
Magic on Palinor has specific rules. It weaves close to science in its application and observes conservation of energy, but its foundations are still rooted in nature and ethereal forces. A clear explanation of how magic works remains elusive.
Dimensional restrictions
Spells can only be cast within the Palinor dimension. Active spells will remain for some time when passing through dimensional portals, but magic wielders are unable to cast new spells once in either of the other dimensions.
For example, an illusion cast on someone’s appearance will remain in place, but cannot be altered. It must have been applied when in Palinor, and thus carried through the portal. Depending on the skill of the wielder, the spell will gradually degrade over time. This can vary between a matter of hours to several weeks.
There are some similarities between magic degradation and the power cell limitations of Max-Earth technology when moved to a different dimension. Each portal transition appears to exponentially increase the loss of potency, which is why it is very rare to encounter an active spell in Max-Earth’s dimension, or functioning Max-Earth tech on Palinor. This has inevitably led to Mid-Earth being a junction point of sorts; the only place all three dimensions can really co-exist, at least for a time. If the unstable portals, expected to link Max-Earth and Palinor directly, were to be repaired it is theorised that this situation might change.
Power sources for magic
Wielding of magic requires intense concentration and a source of energy. For the wielder it is an overtly physical act: a simple spell can leave them feeling that they have run up a flight of stairs; a complex or powerful spell can render the caster entirely incapacitated, as if they have run a marathon. To paraphrase a famous Palinese academic, “it is not as simple as madly waving’s one arms about.”
Magic consumes energy rapidly, requiring a reliable and ideally replenishing power source. The preferred source for most wielders is light: it is fast enough to be drawn in an instant and during the day is in abundant supply, at least when there is direct line-of-sight to the sun. Lightning is a hugely powerful source, but requires a highly skilled wielder to capture given its fleeting and unpredictable nature. The most common source of magical energy is from stars: either the local sun or more distant candidates.
Ambient daylight is too diffuse to be of active use to magic wielders, though it can help to maintain passive spells that have already been cast, or to do very basic magical checks.
Casting at night requires a cultivated light source, such as a candle, brazier, bonfire etc. There have been some successful experiments in the last century with electrical energy, either to power lights or used directly, though this is still frowned upon by the academic elites, who regards it as polluting Earth technology. Most wielders simply carry light sources on their person to use as portable power - eg lanterns, light-emitting creatures, phosphorescent plants etc.
Some wielders draw power from stars during the night, which can be a surprisingly reliable source but requires extreme precision. This technique is not without controversy: there is a lingering concern that misuse or accidents could actively deplete star energy, accelerating star death. This has yet to be evidenced.
Magic disciplines
All magic requires conversion of energy from one type to another. Any human on Palinor is capable of learning to do this, though it requires years of study. As such it tends to be the aristocratic families who can afford to send their children to the academies. In some territories this has led to the erroneous cultural belief that poorer families are incapable of wielding magic.
For reasons unknown, some species on Palinor are unable to tap into the magic inherent to the dimension. Aen’fa are entirely without a capacity for magic, though ancient texts do reference a period when this was not the case. Koth do not actively use magic in the same way as humans, but it is nevertheless built into their physiology: fire breathing, for example, is when a koth instinctively uses elemental magic.
There are multiple magic disciplines. Wielders tend to specialise at an early age, as each discipline has its own study track and it is rare for anyone to have the mental fortitude - or financial capacity - to embark on them all. Contrary to rumour, a wielder’s speciality is a personal choice, rather than a pre-ordained or genetic predisposition.
The disciplines are categorised as follows:
Visualisation: conjuring of elaborate visual stimulus. Used frequently in theatre and obviously for subterfuge. Visualist techniques are also popular for improving the appearance of cities and individuals; removing dirt from one and blemishes from the other. Perhaps more usefully, visualisation can provide augmented imagery to aid surgeons, or locate survivors in a collapsed building. More than just illusions, visualists are able to detect minute details in their surroundings and warp them to their own ends. Static visualisations (eg a building façade) are considerably simpler to cast than active animated visualisations (eg an animal or person). Inevitably, visualists tend to be stereotyped as untrustworthy tricksters and liars. On a technical note, visualisation acts upon the minds of those witnessing it, rather than physically altering the world. Visualisations do not ordinarily work in photographs or when viewed in recordings. When a visualist works alongside a micrologist they can create remarkably lifelike and interactive results.
Elemental: the most energy-intensive and wasteful of magic, also one of the easiest forms to learn. Involves manipulation of heat and pressure to shift materials between gas, liquids and solid. Water can be turned to steam or to ice. Metals can be melted and reforged. Elementalists are in high demand to power machines, heat homes, cook and so on. The effort required varies depending on the material and conditions, with usual physical properties still applying.
Micrology: manipulation of tiny things, even to a molecular level. Favoured by assassins (undetectable pinching shut of an artery). In the hands of a skilled wielder can be used to undermine physical materials (eg destroy a building’s foundations), recombine those same materials (turn one thing into another) or even brute force an imprecise form of telepathic influence (directly affecting brain neurons). Most notably can be used to prolong life through massaging of cells, hence the prolonged life spans of the richest on Palinor and the emergence of long-life tourism from Mid-Earth.
Physology: perhaps the most difficult to master and the most abstract to comprehend, physology is the direct adjustment of physics properties. Wielders are effectively able to rewrite the laws of physics on the fly, though usually only in a very local space. For example, making objects lighter or heavier, or adjusting the friction of a surface, or overall density. The more powerful physologists can affect gravity and mass, which can be used for flight, telekinesis and such. Used as a weapon, physology can be used to crush or tear apart opponents and structures, or to create deep mass wells - essentially low power, localised black holes. Physology is often thought of as the diametric opposite to micrology, similar in theory but vastly different in scope. Physologists have long sought to master teleportation, which is assumed to be possible by the bending of space-time. Curiously, the advanced science of Max-Earth would appear to support this concept. It is thought that the Joining may have been as a result of a catastrophically failed attempt at teleportation, though this is strenuously denied by Palinese academics.
A note on magic post-Joining
In the 200 years since the Joining, many humans from the other two dimensions have travelled to Palinor in attempts to learn to wield magic. This has so far proved impossible, though neither scientists nor magic scholars have identified why. Some theorise that it could be due to a resonant frequency mismatch, similar to the assumed cause of battery degradation.
Wielders from Palinor have also tried repeatedly to cast spells while on Mid-Earth and Max-Earth but to no avail. While spells that have already been cast will remain active for a time after portal transition, no spell has ever been directly cast within either of the other two dimensions. As such, many wielders from Palinor refuse to travel through the portals and in fact have frequently campaigned to find a way to close them, for fear of magic ‘leaking’ out of the world.
That’s all for today, folks. Back on Friday with a BRAND NEW storyline. It’s going to be a fun one.
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Photo by Dino Reichmuth on Unsplash
This chapter originally existed in my Scrivener research notes as some useful background lore. I didn’t intend to publish it, but as Triverse went on through its first season it started to become a tempting prospect. Putting this out as a bonus chapter, in the form of an academic text, gives me the freedom to essentially do a lazy info-dump, without bogging down the main storyline. I mean, writing this book is all about me having my cake and eating it, so why not?
Magic is not a foreground element in the story at this point. The main thrust of the narrative is on Mid-Earth, in London, where things are relatively normal to readers. A few twists here and there, a little sprinkling of steampunk, but it’s recognisably 1970s London. Magic exists around the edges, and we hear about it being more of a thing on Palinor, but we haven’t encountered it directly.
After the ‘Ambassadors’ storyline, in which we meet Princess Daryla and get some sideways glimpses of magic, I decided to put out this bonus chapter. Part of it is that the Triverse story isn’t about discovering how magic works. If we were continuing the story from 200 years ago, back when Kaenamor opened the portals, then I might want readers to discover the magic system at the same time as people from Earth. That’s not the case, though, and much of the fun actually derives from having a decent understanding of how magic works (and doesn’t work) in the book.
Triverse is comprised of three distinct settings: the futuristic Max-Earth, the relatively ‘normal’ Mid-Earth, and the fantastical Palinor. Again, me having my cake and scoffing it. The story is very much about those three cultures colliding, and exploring what happens. However, I didn’t want them to all blend together seamlessly. Spaceships on Palinor and magic on Mid-Earth would make the three realms indistinct, and the borders between them largely irrelevant. That’s the reasoning for having the portal-based limitations on power - an unexplained battery depletion when tech is brought from Max-Earth, and the inability to cast spells if you’re not on Palinor itself.
Those limits make the three settings more interesting and enticing. It makes future visits to Max-Earth and Palinor more exciting for readers (and characters!). It also builds in dramatic restrictions, much like Asimov’s Three Laws of Robotics. Because we know what is possible, it creates the foundation for mini-mysteries down the line.
That’s why it made sense to publish the details in this chapter: the more informed a reader is about how magic works, the more intriguing the tales become. That’s the idea, anyway.
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Typo: "Some theorise that it could be due to a resonant frequency mismatch, similar to the assume cause of battery degradation." Assumed.
Ah, my mild dyslexia led me down a wrong path. Obviously I was conflating "Physology," into "Physiology." But I was pretty close on micrology, which, in itself seems to be very fine scale telekinesis. Also important to note that visualization magic acts directly upon the brain of the subject, not as something actually perceived in the world. Means my guess about the Princess wearing a glamour might be way off as any photographs of her would reveal the truth behind the illusion. It also raises questions about the interaction of visualization magic with a technological entity like Justin. This depends on if your AI's have biological components in their processor cores, or if their design structure mimics a human brain - but much faster and not led astray by hormones and limbic response.
Bet you'd have really enjoyed my last couple of comments in Nov/Dec! My own fault for falling behind, yet, in a couple of days I've blown through over four months of story, so I'll be caught up by next week. Probably. Laura's nephew* is coming to Ireland next week and will be staying with us, so I may lag again since we'll all be cruising around the island.
*I haven't accepted my "Uncle" status yet. I've never met the man, been married to Laura for 7 years and he's 25.