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Cathbad exhaled deeply, his gaze drifting toward the distant treetops before returning to Liam.

"It would be a great shame if talent such as yours were to go to waste," Cathbad finally said. "You are unlike any I have encountered before. Your essence… it is neither wholly human nor elven, yet both at once. The power within you is a confluence of forces that should not coexist, yet they do."

Liam remained silent, his fingers idly stroking the rabbit in his arms. He wasn't interested in flattery, nor did he trust this druid, not after what had happened. Cathbad sighed, sensing Liam's skepticism.

"I had a dream," he admitted. "The night after we parted, I saw a vision of what is to come. A war unlike any before, stretching across the lands like a storm. And in that war… you stood among those who would face the horrors that approach."

"Is that so?" he said dryly. "And what do you expect me to do with this information?"

"I expect you to prepare." Cathbad met his gaze. "Fate has a way of drawing people into its grasp, whether they wish it or not. If my vision is true, then you will be at the heart of what is to come. And if you are unprepared, you will be consumed by it."

Liam let out a slow breath, weighing his options. He didn't believe in fate. He never had. The world that he lived in had fate too. He even played as Kratos in the game so he knew that fate was always a bad power to poke. 

"And what do you gain from this?" Liam asked. "Why bother teaching me?"

"Perhaps I am merely an old man who does not wish to see the world burn," Cathbad chucked. "Or perhaps I am selfish, wanting to see how far one such as yourself can go."

"Honesty. Now that's rare." Liam smirked. 

"Then introduce yourself, child. Formally, this time." Cathbad said. 

"Liam Woodsworth, from New York." 

"New York? Where is that?" Cathbad asked. 

"A very distant land. Beyond the Continent." Liam replied. Cathbad's eyebrows rose as he heard that but he didn't ask further as he knew that Liam wouldn't reply more to this. And thus after this his lessons began. 

Cathbad asked of what he knew about magic and Liam gave a rundown and sufficed to say Cathbad was impressed. It was at later that Cathbad came to know about Liam's problems in spells and also his emotional vacancy. Cathbad contemplated for a minute and then gave Liam a piercing gaze. 

"To harness Chaos Magic properly, you must first understand the language that governs it," Cathbad said. "And that means learning Quenya."

"I know elvish." Liam replied and showed his extensive knowledge. 

"What you know is Sindarin. It is normally used by the Aen Seidhe and though the language holds its power in its speech, it is nothing in comparison with Quenya. That language of the High elves." Cathbad said. 

"Wait, does that mean the spells the mages of this era knows comes from a simpler version of Quenya?" Liam asked. 

"Yes. And we, the druids, holds the knowledge to Quenya. But it is a very difficult language and only someone with immense talent have any chance of understanding it." Cathbad said. This made Liam smile. 

He was a humble person for most of the times, but he always knew his strength. And magic was definitely one of them. 

"So you're saying if I learn Quenya, I'll be able to cast spells?"

"That, and more. The way words are spoken affects the flow of magic. Sindarin, though effective, is reactive. It commands. Quenya, however, is creation itself." Cathbad said.

Liam exhaled. He had spent enough time learning different magics to know that language mattered. Words carried weight, shaping the very essence of the spell. If Quenya was the foundation, then mastering it could open new doors for him.

"I will show you." Cathbad raised a hand, and a flicker of energy coiled around his fingers.

He whispered a spell in Sindarin, and a small flame ignited in his palm. The magic obeyed, shaping itself into a controlled orb of fire. Then, in a softer but somehow heavier voice, he spoke again—this time in Quenya. The flame didn't just grow; it shifted, turning into a vibrant, twisting strand of light and fire, dancing in the air as if alive.

Liam's eyes narrowed. He could feel the difference. The Sindarin spell had summoned fire. The Quenya spell had created it.

"Alright," he muttered. "Teach me."

Cathbad smirked. "Then let us begin."

-----

For the next several hours, Liam found himself in what felt like a linguistics nightmare.

Quenya wasn't just difficult—it was precise, structured in a way that demanded clarity. While Sindarin flowed more naturally in speech, Quenya required intention behind every syllable. The smallest mistake in pronunciation could shift the meaning of a spell entirely.

Cathbad drilled him on pronunciation first.

"No, you are still saying it like a command," the druid corrected. "You must speak as if shaping, not ordering."

"How the hell do I 'shape' a word?"

"With patience." Cathbad chuckled. 

By the time the sun had begun to dip below the horizon, Liam had barely managed to grasp the correct way to pronounce a handful of words. But even those few were enough to prove their effectiveness. 

Liam was finally able to make some progress in a spell as he was able to use a spell that was most basic, and that was to conjure light. At the end, Liam was successful. Liam almost had tears in his eyes seeing that he could do magic. He had struggled so much, just to invoke some basic spells that he had almost given up. 

Now knowing that he was not impotent gave him relief and also joy. He could finally have a power that belonged to him and him alone. He was beyond thrilled and knew that he would have to give his every ounce of concentration in learning Quenya. 

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