Disciplines of magic

---

Magic—a concept Jack barely understood but now found himself surrounded by. He'd stumbled into a world overflowing with it, where magic was as natural as breathing, as constant as the stars.

Back home, his only brush with such wonders was through fantasy books he borrowed from the city library. School had never been an option for him, so he took what he could: hours in those aisles, running his fingers along worn spines, absorbing any tale he could get his hands on.

Then came that day—the day he found the book. It had been lying on the library floor as if abandoned. Its brown leather cover was cracked and faded, pages yellowed and thin with age. Something about it called to him. He picked it up, and that decision altered his life forever. That story wove itself into him, word by word, until he felt he knew it in his bones.

The book's hero, Asriel, was a man of misery. The universe seemed bent on breaking him, and Jack understood that bitterness too well. Asriel's kindness, his relentless naivety, were what condemned him to a life of suffering. And despite his gifts, in a world teeming with magic, Asriel allowed himself to be weak, struggling against his own power instead of embracing it.

'I won't make his mistakes,' Jack told himself. He wouldn't be that fool. He could practically feel the frustration building as he gazed out the coach window, watching the trees blur past. He was miles away from everything he'd ever known—so far he might as well have been on another planet. The trees stretched endlessly along either side of the road, their thick canopies casting shadows across the desolate path. No other souls in sight.

'Now this is what I call peace. Lack of filthy humans' he thought, breathing in the air, tinged with earth and mystery.

In the days leading up to this journey, Jack had absorbed everything he could about this world. The book had been a blueprint, sketching only the major events of Asriel's story. But now Jack wondered: "What happens if I meet people who weren't in the book? What then?'

'I might know what's coming,' he reasoned, 'but if I avoid certain paths, won't that change everything?'

The thought left him anxious, teetering on the edge of the unknown. Did he have to follow Asriel's story? Was he fated to end up the same way, suffocated by choices that weren't really his?

'No. Asriel was a fool,' he thought fiercely. 'There's no way I'm giving up my life twice.'

The question still nagged him though. Why had he been brought here? Why him, of all people, and what purpose did this world hold for him?

He wanted to go back, perhaps ask the great one all the questions he had in his mind.

"It's not as if that bright bulb will say anything" Jack mumbled, his face contorting with annoyance as he remembered his first encounter with 'The bulb' as he referred to him.

'What kind of twisted game is this? You pull me here and don't even tell me why?' He let out a sigh of frustration, his thoughts spiraling into tension.

No. He couldn't afford to let the mystery of his arrival distract him. 'My goal is simple. I need power. Strength is my priority,' he resolved, refocusing.

He'd read about the power structure in this world: four kingdoms, each dedicated to a distinct discipline of magic. They were like the four pillars upholding a delicate balance. Each had its strengths—and rivalries. And then there was the Church, an entity unto itself, shrouded in secrecy and reverence.

The first kingdom, where he'd now landed, was renowned for its spellcasting abilities. Here, mages manipulated the elements, summoning energy that could move mountains and unleash torrents of fire or floods at a whim.

The second was the Kingdom of Swords, famed for its warriors who relied on sheer physical prowess, their bodies hardened by mana. They were swordsmen in name, though they wielded a range of weapons.

Then there was the kingdom of beastmen and tamers, 'The mutants, I'd prefer that' he thought to himself with a low hum as he looked through his jotter. He had made out a picturesque and detailed description of their kind, which led him to that one word.

'And of course, the last but not the least the kingdom of Alchemist, together they make up one big nation' He went through the information on his jotter again.

Jack saw this jotter to be his most powerful weapon, a weapon that allowed him plan ahead of time, and as well have him knowledge of everything he had to know.

'Had to fill it up with lots of info on the other kingdoms' Jack felt rather prideful of his jotter, and he had made sure to encode it in a language, very popular but unknown to this new world.

'English,'

'... Who knew it would ever be as useful as this' Jack thought as he ran his hand through the pages of the book before closing it.

'Dad wants me to learn the sword,' Jack mused, recalling his father's insistence that swordsmanship was his only path to strength.

He knew why. 'They think I can't conjure spells,' he thought with a smirk.

Swordsmen couldn't cast spells; they wielded mana only to fortify their bodies, granting them tenfold the strength of an ordinary person. But there was a fundamental difference: while mages had a "core," enabling them to store mana and shape it into spells, swordsmen lacked this ability, their power limited to themselves.

'But what if I could master both?' Jack's mind raced. 'Mana is mana. It's only the form that changes.' He smiled, a dangerous, determined gleam in his eyes.

In his reading, he'd learned of a mage who eventually broke these boundaries, becoming the first "battle-mage" in history. This individual had posed a nearly insurmountable challenge for Asriel, becoming a formidable obstacle on his path.

"If I train well under Alogra, I'll surpass even that battle-mage. I'll be the first to unlock it this time," Jack whispered to himself, fists clenching with purpose.

"My prince, we've reached the destination. This is as far as I'm instructed to go," the coach driver called, his voice firm as he pulled the horses to a halt.

Jack blinked, his gaze pulled back from his musings. He peered out the window. Instead of a grand estate or a castle, he saw…trees. An endless, shadowy forest stretched out before him, dense and ominous. For a heartbeat, he felt a pang of disappointment.

"This…is his house?"