Expansion of Arsenal {Part - 2}

Remirg Kryptos grimaced in disappointment. He was half sure he was expecting this result. He still didn't have any goddamn information on how to use the spell at all. It was just him and the incantation.

He had to think this through. 

"The spell is used to imbue prana in an object to make it stationary in a certain position. That means this spell is useless in direct combat. Quick casting of this spell means nothing then. 

This spell needs time to take its course of action. Thus, I need to think of a way where I can imbue my prana in it...." 

A minute's thinking was enough for him to achieve at the most likely conclusion.

The spell was not supposed to be activated right away altogether. The spell's syllable starting with "Shisu" had a certain significance. This spell instead was the derivative of the first spell he had been using. The basic possession spell level 1.

This spell could only be cast once the object is already under the effect of "Shisu Kannas", the primordial possession spell. It was only then that he could imbue the object with prana to consolidate its apparent position. 

Thinking again on his previous attempt, Remirg felt sheepish by admitting the fact that he believed that this spell would make the object hover as well as stopping it. It was down straight foolishness.

It was also at this time Remirg understood a principle of spell, though he never recognized it consciously. "One spell could never have the effect of another spell. Each spell is mutually exclusive of the other."

Putting his theory into action at the very next moment, Remirg lifted his right arm, pointing towards SN2.

Crying "Shisu Kannas!", Remirg successfully made the pot hover midair. He also realized doing this had become quite easier. It was like casually flicking a pigeon's feather, providing him with no strain at all.

Extending his other arm now, quite gracefully, as his mage outfit fluttered in the non-existent wind on the small island, giving him an ethereal look.

Concentrating a considerable amount of prana in his hand, Remirg cried loud in a clear voice, "Shisu Skan Finas!". 

For a moment it felt like nothing happened of any particular importance, just a gust of wind blowing off his face, but on closer inspection, Remirg could clearly see the faint strain of prana particles being extricated from the very hand through which he cast the spell.

It was not before two minutes when the prana started entering hovering pot. The process was, at this stage of excellency, painfully slow. He needed to work hard on his prana release and control factor.

Nevertheless, after five minutes of painful waiting, his prana stream seemed to have slowed down significantly. Apparently, the object was resisting the saturation of more prana particles, declaring that that was the limit up to which he could infuse prana.

Considering it the completion of the spell, Remirg let go of his hand, cutting off the contact with him and SN2.

And to his desire, the pot kept hovering, without any of his intrusion at all. 

But his happiness didn't last long. The pot shivered and then fell to the ground, shattering, after just a matter of ten seconds. 

With a great "tch!" of disappointment, Remirg Kryptos exclaimed, stomping his bare foot on the ground.

"Hovering my ***!"

Meanwhile, Mark Eisner was in a dilemma. He could not keep his focus on Remirg. The musings of another character, who must be out there, hundreds of miles away, talking with a certain someone, as he was believing. 

"I wish I could be with that guy now. He has the damned plot armor now!"

The town of Skund in the Kingdom of Ritia

The man was making his way through the gigantic corridors of the castle.

Conveniently, the fireball incident was taken care of with ease.

The castle was huge enough to house a population ten times as large as the town of Skund itself, with proper facilities and lodgings.

But it was a building made for a different purpose. It was a school. A school of magic cradled in secrecy, at the very heart of the kingdom. It trained hundreds of mages, who have lived their lives in secrecy as well, protecting the kingdom with all their might.

But it was the dark side of this castle about which none knew. It was as mysterious as the man himself. What were the magic holders up to was even unknown to the students until they were sworn with their respective jobs.

Nevertheless, turning a sharp corner, the man was met with a dead end.

Carefully revealing himself, lowering his hood, the man looked directly at the blank wall in front of him. Thankfully, or rather rightfully, no student was lingering the corridors at this time of noon, especially this part of the castle.

Apparently, the place he was standing was forbidden from students' involvement.

Waiting for less than a few seconds, the man casually witnessed the wall's bricks crumble, giving way to a narrow path ahead, which was dark enough that he had to light a prana torch for himself via his fingers.

Entering the passage without making any sound at all, the man broke into a brisk walk, apparently seeming hurried in his actions.

He needed to meet with the Archmage as soon as possible as this was the matter of most concern. His face was showing no expression at all, a void seemingly rising from the plinth of his pupils, which were dilating, providing him with more vision.

It was quite a walk before which he reached the far end of the dingy passage, entering a chamber large enough to be called a hall in itself.

It was much like a dome, whose roof was made up of reinforced tinted glass, providing a stunning view of the outside. Though it was not the right time to be sightseeing.

In the far end of the room lied a desk, made up of pure mahogany, imbued with no magic at all. Just a simple old desk.

Behind it was sitting a man, in his early thirties, quite young to be the head of the school, acquiring the most prestigious honor a mage could ever get. His hair was carefully combed with not even a strand of hair lying astray.

He had a quite an oval face, with his lower jaw protruding a bit. His cheeks showed signs of facial hair. His most stunning eyes fixed on the visitor who had just entered his chamber.

Without standing up, he beckoned the visitor to sit down.

And sit did the man did, who now possessed quite a smile on his face.

Upon his arrival, the Archmage produced a quiet laugh. "

"It's my pleasure to house you, Kryptos. How has work been going. I see you have been running incognito for quite a long time. Though et that aside, as that is none of my business, what do you have to comment on the incident in Shisa?"

The man, smiling still, smacked his lips, trying to formulate a reply.

"You see Archmage, the boy is now none of my business. I died to him years ago. He doesn't remember me. I thought I must let him be in peace. But destiny seems to think otherwise.

He has been blessed by the gods themselves. He possesses the power he was never supposed to possess."

The Archmage looked him into the eye. "So.... the rumors here are true then....."

The man replied in the same tone again. "Ah yes! They are true. But..... I must forsake you from spreading it. Careless talks have consequences. But still..... You must look into this, or my son may become an anomaly."