The next day came earlier than expected. The sun had barely begun to filter through the branches of the trees when I found myself back in the same clearing where I had trained the day before. This time, however, everything felt different. Mr. Ravenscroft seemed less stern, and the practice progressed smoothly, almost as if our movements followed a natural rhythm.
It was then, as I painstakingly molded another sphere of mana, that a doubt began to haunt my mind. At first, I tried to ignore it, but curiosity finally got the better of me.
-Master... there's something I can't stop thinking about," I said, breaking the silence.
Ravenscroft stopped his inspection of my technique and gave me an attentive look.
-Go ahead, boy. Question.
-What are the races of the world really like? -I blurted out, feeling that question had been on my mind for too long. I mean what they are like... at their core. At home, the books talk about feats and exploits, but they almost never mention what each of them are really like. And... well, that made me wonder what each race is like, beyond what the stories tell.
Ravenscroft arched an eyebrow, as if not expecting that question, but soon a slight smile crossed his face.
-It's an interesting question... and not an easy one to answer," he said, his tone thoughtful. But I'll do my best to satisfy your curiosity.
He folded his arms and began to speak, his voice taking on an almost nostalgic tinge.
-We elves are quiet, reserved beings by nature. We feel deeply connected to magic, as if it were an extension of our very essence. That affinity allows us to understand the flow of mana almost instinctively... but it also makes us distant to many. It is not out of disdain, but because we value balance and peace above all else.
He paused briefly before continuing.
-Demons..." his tone became more serious, "are different. Wise, no doubt, but their temperament is like fire: fiery and unpredictable. They are born warriors, proud and passionate. For them, combat is not just a necessity... it is a way of life. They prefer to settle disputes with force rather than waste time in unnecessary conversations. And while their pride may be their greatest virtue, it is also their greatest weakness.
My eyes widened in amazement as I imagined that vivid description. But Ravenscroft wasn't finished.
-Beasts..." he continued, "are different. Serene, bold, and loyal to the core. Their bond to their nation and their pack is unbreakable. That same loyalty also makes them formidable warriors, willing to fight to their last breath to protect what they love.
-But above all you must be careful, they are no longer called beasts nowadays, they are now known as semi-humans.
I blinked, surprised. It wasn't just a name change... it was a reminder that prejudices could be buried under new identities.
-I understand, what about dragons? -I asked, unable to hide my interest.
A spark appeared in Ravenscroft's eyes.
-Ah, the dragons..." he muttered. "They are... special. They always have been. But over time, their nature has changed. The union between humans and dragons, prompted by the hero Charles, accelerated that process of change. They are now more... complex. It's not just their power that defines them, but their wisdom and adaptability. Calling them "special" is perhaps the only correct way to describe them.
-What about the dwarves? -I asked, increasingly intrigued.
Ravenscroft laughed softly.
-Ah, the dwarves..." his tone became almost warm. Excellent comrades and even better smiths. Their skill with metal and stone is unmatched. Magnificent sculptors... and, of course, master drinkers. There is no celebration at which a dwarf does not leave his mark, and their loyalty is as steadfast as the rock they forge.
-And the aquatics? -I whispered, almost dreading the answer.
Ravenscroft's face took on a more wary expression.
-Aquatics..." he said quietly, "are a case apart. Proud. Vain. Not all of them are easy to get along with, and many of them despise those they consider inferior. Their culture is rich and deep, but their arrogance can be dangerous if you don't know how to handle it. I advise you to be careful if you ever deal with them.
I was silent, processing every word. It was as if the world had suddenly become much larger and more complex than I had imagined.
-Thank you, master..." I murmured, feeling that this knowledge had changed me somehow.
Ravenscroft nodded with a slight smile.
-Knowledge is power, my boy. And now..." -his tone became serious again- "let's get back to practice. There is still much to learn
-And how do they differ from each other, master? -I asked, unable to conceal my curiosity.
Ravenscroft smiled slightly, as if that was a question he had answered many times before.
-Ah, distinguishing the races..." he murmured, putting a hand to his chin. It's not so complicated once you know what to look for.
He paused and began his explanation, his tone taking on the calm of a sage sharing ancestral knowledge.
-Let's start with the elves..." he said, pointing to his own long, pointed ears. Our appearance is perhaps the most recognizable. The pointed ears are our most distinctive feature, but there are other subtle details as well. Some elves wear elaborate earrings, and these are not mere adornments. They symbolize their status within elven society. The more earrings, the greater their prestige or lineage. There are those who can even distinguish an elf's lineage just by a glance at their jewelry.
He paused for a moment before continuing.
Dragons... -he continued, his tone becoming more serious- are majestic and fearsome. Just at the edge of his eyes, extending subtly toward his forehead, small scales could be seen, as hard and tough as steel. Though tiny, they shone with a faint reflection under the light, as if they held within them the essence of an ancestral creature. Their arrangement was almost symmetrical, forming an intricate pattern that seemed sculpted by divine hands, reminding whoever looked at them that this skin did not belong to a common being.
Ravenscroft walked a few paces before speaking of the next group.
-Demons are just as easy to identify, though their appearance may vary. His voice took on a more serious tone. Their horns and sharp teeth are their hallmark. But there is something else..." He stared at me. The number of horns, their shape and position on the head are not merely physical characteristics. They reflect their lineage, their power, and sometimes their role within their society. Some have curved horns like those of a ram, others carry them straight like spears, and some..." he lowered his voice slightly, "have split horns, a sign of a dark heritage.
I could not help shuddering at that.
-The beasts..." he continued, softening his tone, "are easier to recognize. Their bodies are usually stocky and toned, a reflection of their savage nature and warrior instinct. But what really gives them away are their ears and tails, features that vary depending on the type of beast. They may look like wolves, felines, or even more exotic creatures, but those features never go unnoticed.
-What about dwarves? -I asked curiously.
Ravenscroft laughed softly, as if the answer was obvious.
-Ah, the dwarves..." he said with a smile. Well, there's not much mystery about them. They're small, sturdy and... their beards are their greatest pride. No matter the occasion, a dwarf will always take care of his beard as if it were a treasure. It is more than just a tradition... it is a symbol of honor and maturity. Dwarves judge the worthiness of one of their own by the length and grooming of his beard. So if you see a dwarf with a long, neatly braided beard..." he paused, an amused sparkle in his eyes, "you'd better show him some respect.
I couldn't help but smile, imagining a group of dwarves competing to see who had the most majestic beard.
-Now that you know..." Ravenscroft crossed his arms and looked at me seriously, "always remember that appearances can say a lot, but it's what's on the inside that really defines a race. Don't just go by what you see.
I nodded slowly, feeling that I had learned something more valuable than I had imagined.
-Thank you, master..." I murmured, full of new questions awaiting answers.
-You're welcome, my boy. -His smile faded as he turned his attention back to my training.
-Now that I mention it, master... -My voice came out more uncertain than I intended as I held the orb of water in my hands. -How could I tell the difference between warriors and nobility in other races? -I paused briefly, remembering that he had already explained about the elves. With them he already told me... but what about the other races?
I was so focused on the conversation that I didn't notice that the orb was still stable, floating with a deceptive tranquility in my hands. But my doubts were still unresolved, and my mind was still restless, wandering among the images my master had planted with his explanations.
-Perfect. -Ravenscroft's voice interrupted my thoughts, full of satisfaction. Now that you've stabilized him, keep that control as best you can... and take ten steps.
-What? -I exclaimed in disbelief. How could it break so easily? A moment ago I was in complete control, and one move had undone all my effort in an instant.
Ravenscroft let out a slight laugh, amused but full of understanding.
-Amazing, isn't it? -That's one of the reasons why wizards, when conjuring spells, often stand completely still or make minimal movements.
-Magic... is like a river, it flows from you to the spell. But if your body moves without control, you interrupt that flow. That's why great magicians learn to anchor their mind and body, allowing the energy to channel uninterrupted.
He folded his arms and leaned forward slightly, watching me with that unwavering calm.
-But don't worry, young apprentice of the force. -His voice took on a softer, almost paternal tone. I will guide you on this path... and this will not be an obstacle for you.
My lips trembled slightly at those words. His confidence in me was unwavering, even when I myself doubted my abilities.
-Let's start again. -His gaze became serious, but encouraging. Until you manage to take those ten steps... and when you do, I'll answer that question that troubles you so much.
The rest of the day became a constant struggle.
I tried again and again to keep the orb balanced as I took steps, but control slipped away at every slightest movement. I barely managed to take two steps before the sphere collapsed, unraveling as if it had never existed. Sweat covered my forehead, and my muscles burned from the effort.
Why was it so important if I couldn't even complete a spell properly?
Fatigue was beginning to weigh me down, but the promise of answers kept me going.
-Well..." Ravenscroft's voice broke the silence as I finally managed to hold the orb steady for two more steps. It's not ten yet... but you've made progress.
-Master, I have one more question..." I said cautiously, still intrigued by all I had learned.
Ravenscroft exhaled slowly, crossing his arms in mock exasperation.
-Don't talk anymore," his voice sounded firm, but not harsh. "That's one too many questions for today.
I frowned, refusing to give up so easily.
-But...
-No buts," he interrupted me with a faint smile, an amused sparkle in his eyes. First, the ten steps.
I opened my mouth to insist, but his gaze made it clear that there would be no exceptions. I swallowed my words and nodded, resigned.
And so, without realizing it, a little torture began. Not physical, but something worse: the torture of patience. Of repeating the same exercise over and over again, with the water escaping my control at the least expected moment. Of feeling that each attempt was a failure. Of hearing the same warning over and over again: "Calm down. Anchor your mind. Let the magic flow."