Fantasy Tuesdays: Magic

 

One of the neatest things about fantasy writing is creating your own set of magic in the novel. I would say most fantasies have some form of magic to them. Typically, not everyone in the land is magical. People have different skill levels, even involving magic. A lot of magic involves world building (topic for next week).

A few questions a writer should ask when approaching magic:

Who has the magic abilities and why?

Born magical or can magic be learned?

Is it natural magic or do you have to have something to produce the magic (wand, special ingredients, etc.)?

I love the use of wands and wand-work in the Harry Potter series. They create a great visual, like sword-fighting. I also love the simpler magics, where an incantation can work, a mixture of herbs/plants, or even just energy building into the power of magic. In Lord of the Rings, I love how magic and power are entwined in the objects of the rings.

For The Phoenix Prophetess, I used their own inner power to create and manipulate the world around them. Yet, in The Foxwick Chronicles, there are more incantations and herbs/plants magic. It's fun to work in magic for novels because the possibilities are endless and well, magical.

If you're a writer, what type of magic have you used in your works? As a reader of fantasy, what type of magic do you like to see best?

#fridayflash "School of Sorcery"

*Author’s Note: In honor of the release of the last Harry Potter movie, I thought I would write a flash piece involving another school of magic mentioned in my WiP, the Phoenix Trilogy.*

“School of Sorcery”

Magna twirled the phoenix emblem on her necklace around. Her shoulder muscles bunched, and she rolled them to release the nervous energy. She stopped playing with the necklace and lit and unlit the candles with a snap of her fingers.

“What are you doing, child?” Her mother’s voice startled her.

She jerked and nearly plunge them into darkness. A sheepish smile quirked her lips as she relit the wicks.

“Sorry, mother.” She nodded her head in acknowledgement of her mother, the Queen of Amora. She studied the wrinkles creasing around her eyes. White streaked her hair. It had been several years since she had left her city for Apentha with her consort Prince Cyrun.

A flicker of a smile edged upon Queen Vyvian’s face before she embraced her only daughter. “I hope the Apenthans have been kind to their future queen.”

“They have, mother, but I do have a request.” She licked her lips, trying to draw moisture to her mouth as it fled from her. Her fingers turned cold, palms clammy.

“What is it?” Her eyes narrowed. “Is something wrong, Magna?”

“No, nothing wrong exactly. I-I want to open a school...a school of sorcery for the Royals to grow in their magical arts.” There. She said it.

The Queen sank into the plush throne chair. Her frail frame barely creased the cushions. “Magna, we’ve been over this. We have all the magical knowledge we need.”

She blew air through her nostrils and laughed. “Really? The Apenthan Royals use their magic all the time. It’s no wonder they blockaded our city and won. If we had trained in battle magic, I know things would’ve changed.”

“I thought you loved Cyrun.” Her voice was quiet, concerned.

Magna bristled. “I do love him. I do, but Apentha isn’t our only threat. You know the prophecies. We must learn from our past mistakes and not repeat them. We must train and use all our knowledge and not waste our talents on pretty light displays.”

She waited for her mother to speak, but she didn’t.

“I want to do this, mother. I ask it of you, my Queen. I know instructors—”

Her mother held up a hand, silencing her as effectively as a slap. Vyvian’s gaze grew distant, pensive. Magna’s body tensed, leaning forward in anticipation. Her plans would live or die upon her mother’s words...at least until she herself became queen. She held her breath, waiting, and stopped her tongue from blurting out more words that could harm her case.

“Very well, have your school of sorcery, my child.”