Inheritor of Strength (Book one of Alfireán age)

Combat Magic

Spy Master!? What exactly does that mean? Alf thought as Drakovian strode to the window and clasped his hands behind his back. He gazed out into the darkness. "The Brockovich's have no standing army."

Alf knew it was a statement, not a question. The Brockovich family line was well known for being the only High Lords without a personal guard. It wasn't because they couldn't afford one, though; it was because his forefathers, and he as well, had chosen to invest all their money into the people instead. In return, they'd had the citizens' full support, thus giving them a far greater political pull then any army ever could. Alf wholeheartedly believed that if the teleportation stones were still active, and he had not been officially declared dead, he could send a nationwide message and have a massive army overnight. However, that wasn't an option now.

"How are your finances?"

Alf cast a sidelong glance at Harold. The butler, or rather headmaster, had recently expressed his concern over the Brockovich estate being in debt for the first time in known history.

"Ah, we're broke."

The imperial prince sighed, "It would appear Mister Brockovich that you are my sole asset in our fight against this usurper."

Alf shifted his weight to his right leg. He was not exactly comfortable with being referred to as an asset.

"I need to know what you are capable of. Have you ever tested the limits of your new abilities?"

"No. Not really," Alf answered.

"Then it is imperative we find out," Drakovian stated as he headed for the door.

"Right now? It's nighttime."

"There is no time like the present," the prince replied and stepped out into the hallway, leaving Alf with no choice but to follow.

***

Alf, along with Harold and Olivia, followed the boy down the stairs and out into the cool, crisp tropical air. The moon had just crested the top of the trees, and its bluish-white light bathed everything in an eerie, but somehow enchanting, glow.

As the four of them made their way through the courtyard and out towards the training grounds, they were greeted by a plethora of animal and insect noises coming from the jungle. Apparently, the nocturnal creatures had recovered from their earlier scare.

Once they passed the inactive safety pillars and into the training ground, Drakovian turned to Alf and said, "Tell me everything you know about magic."

Alf knew the science behind magic quite well due to all his recent studying. In fact, he had grown rather fond of giving lectures as a teacher.

"Everything," he said, widening his stance and placing his hands behind his back, "is held together by frequencies, and our white blood cells can emit every frequency known to mankind. Thus, it stands to reason that if we can control the frequencies our white blood cells emit, we can control everything around us, including our own body. We do this is by scientific formulas we call spells.

"Each spell is like a program that tells your brain what signals to send to your white blood cells. These programs can be easily installed or taught from someone who knows the spell, or from a magic book, though certain spells require the usage of a special item, orb, or other type of catalyst to cast.

"After you have installed a spell in your brain, it's just a matter of using and understanding that program. As you master the program, a.k.a. the spell, it becomes easier and easier to use.