Chapter 9: The First Spark of fire
Max leaned back in the plush carriage seat, his mind swirling with thoughts as the steady rhythm of the Pure-Blood Dragon Horses pulling the carriage kept him grounded. The looming battle against the goblins and orcs should have had him on edge, but instead, his thoughts were focused elsewhere—on magic. Despite the confidence he had in the Duke's army to handle the situation, a nagging feeling tugged at him.
Max (Internal): I can't rely on them forever. What happens when I need to defend myself? I need to know how to cast magic... if I'm supposed to be the Duke, I need to act the part.
He had been avoiding magic for weeks now, ever since he woke up as the Duke. It wasn't that he didn't want to use it—it was that he couldn't risk anyone finding out he didn't have a clue how. Everyone expected him to wield immense power, especially since the Duke had allegedly obliterated armies with his spells.
Max (Internal): But if I don't try, I'll never learn. And when they finally expect me to burn a goblin army to ash, what am I going to do? Throw a sword at them?
Max (Internal): I need to learn how to use magic. I can't rely on the knights for everything.
In this world, magic wasn't just a tool—it was power. Real, tangible power. The Duke's legacy had been built on it, and if Max was going to survive in this role, he needed to figure out how to wield it. Sure, he could play the part of the ruthless Duke for now, but sooner or later, someone would expect him to back it up with more than just bravado.
Max (Internal): I've read about how to cast spells in the Duke's library... I should try it.
He sighed and glanced at his hands. He remembered skimming through the Duke's library after one of those endless council meetings. The shelves were filled with tomes on combat, strategy, and most importantly—magic. He had picked up a few books, trying to piece together how the Duke had mastered his arcane abilities.
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Flashback: The Duke's Library
Max ran his fingers over the spines of the books, pausing at a particularly thick tome with golden lettering: Principles of Flame Casting. He pulled it from the shelf and opened it to a random page.
Excerpt from the book: "Fire magic is simple in principle, yet complex in execution. The caster must visualize the flame in their mind, will it into existence, and channel mana into the spell. But beware, as fire is a fickle element. Control is key, or it will consume all in its path."
Max frowned as he read. Sure, it sounded straightforward—imagine fire, channel mana, done. But something about it unnerved him. The Duke probably could do this with a flick of his wrist, but Max wasn't so sure.
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Back in the carriage, Max glanced at the small window, the rolling landscape a blur. His fingers drummed nervously on his knee as he considered trying a spell. He had avoided it for long enough, fearful of exposing his lack of knowledge. But here, alone in the carriage, it seemed like the perfect time to experiment. No one would see him if he failed.
The problem was, Max had never actually tried it. He didn't want to risk anyone noticing that the "Duke" didn't know how to do something as simple as casting a spell.
Max (Internal): If I don't try now, when will I?
Taking a deep breath, he closed his eyes and concentrated, trying to feel the flow of mana inside him. It was strange—like a faint pulse, hidden beneath his skin. He visualized a tiny flame, just a flicker, nothing more.
Max (Internal): Okay... focus. Just a little bit of mana.
For a moment, nothing happened. He frowned, concentrating harder. And then, to his surprise,
Slowly, he channeled the mana into his hands, imagining the warmth of a fire. His fingers tingled as the air in the carriage grew warmer. a small spark appeared in the air before him. It danced for a moment, flickering with life. Opening his eyes, he grinned in triumph. There, in his palm, was a small, dancing flame.
Max (Internal): I did it! I'm actually casting fire!
His excitement got the best of him. The flame flickered, then suddenly flared up, growing larger by the second. Max's eyes widened in panic as the fire began to spread.
Max (Internal): Wait! Stop! How do I—?
Before he could do anything, the flame leapt from his hand, igniting the seat beneath him. The plush fabric caught fire instantly, and Max yelped, scrambling to smother it with his hands.
Max: "No, no, no! Bad fire! Go out! Go out!"
Frantically, he slapped at the flames, but they only seemed to grow wilder. The carriage began to fill with smoke as the fire spread across the seat. Max, now on his knees, tried to remember anything from that book about how to stop it.
Max (Internal): What did it say about control?! This isn't control, this is chaos!
He waved his hands frantically, trying to smother the flames, but it was too late. The fire spread quickly, catching onto the fabric of the seat. Smoke began to fill the carriage as the flames crackled and grew hotter.
Outside the carriage, the soldiers riding alongside began to notice the smoke billowing from the windows.
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Soldiers' Dialogue
Soldier 1: sniffing the air "You smell something burning?"
Soldier 2: looking back at the carriage "Yeah… is there a fire?"
Soldier 3: wide-eyed "Wait, is the Duke's carriage on fire?!"
The group of soldiers exchanged looks, the panic clear on their faces.
Soldier 1: "Should we... should we do something?"
Soldier 2: "You think?! The Duke's probably casting some crazy spell in there. He's probably burning an entire army or something!"
Soldier 3: "Or it's... you know... a small misfire."
Soldier 4: Still clearly confused, muttered to his companion, "I didn't know the Duke dabbled in magic."
Soldier 1: "Do you want to go in there and tell the Duke he can't handle a little fire?!"
Soldier 2: "Not in this lifetime."
Soldier 3: grinning "Bet you five gold the Duke's trying out some new fire magic."
Soldier 2: "You're on."
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Inside the carriage, Max was finally able to extinguish the flames, though not before leaving a charred patch on the seat and a lingering smell of smoke. He slumped back, breathing heavily, his heart racing from the chaos.
Max (Internal): Well... that could have gone better.
Max inspected the damage. The seat was charred, and the smell of burnt leather lingered in the air.
Max (Internal): Well, that didn't go as planned.
Despite the mess, a small part of him was thrilled. He had actually done it—he had cast a spell. Sure, it had gone wildly out of control, but it was a start. He had tapped into his mana, and with some practice, he could learn to control it. That was something. For now, though, he had to be more careful. The last thing he needed was to set something—or worse, someone—on fire in the middle of battle.
Max (Internal): Alright, note to self—work on control. But hey, at least I didn't set myself on fire.
He leaned back in the seat, trying to relax, though the charred hole beneath him made that a bit difficult.
Max (Internal): Small steps. I'll figure this out. Eventually.
He glanced at the scorched fabric beneath him, the seat still smoldering slightly. Magic, it seemed, wasn't going to come as naturally as he had hoped.
Max (Internal): Note to self: learn control before trying that again.
He could only imagine what the soldiers outside were thinking, seeing smoke pour out of their Duke's carriage. Hopefully, they were assuming he was just practicing some powerful spell. He certainly didn't want them thinking he had nearly set himself on fire trying to light a match.
Max let out a long sigh, already dreading the awkward explanation he'd have to give if anyone asked why his seat looked like it had been through a battlefield.
Max (Internal): So much for practicing in secret.
With another sigh, he resolved to hit the library again. Clearly, he needed a lot more practice—and maybe some fireproof cushions.
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This chapter delves into Max's cautious experimentation with magic, blending humor with his growing realization that learning to cast spells is going to be harder than expected. Let me know if you'd like to adjust any part!