The magic of the past was not the same as the magic of the present.
The world had shifted. The Old Magic was born in an era when True Dragons ruled, when magic saturated the very air, forming a perfect equilibrium of elements.
But now, the world had changed.
Magic had thinned, diluted by time, evolution, and the absence of beings that once served as its pillars. The fundamental composition of magic itself had transformed. What was once an intricate balance of pure elements had fractured into the new magic of the modern era.
This was why Old Magic could no longer be found.
Even with his understanding, Eo could not reproduce it. The components were missing.
But the idea intrigued him.
If Old Magic had once been naturally occurring, then it stood to reason that it could be recreated. The problem lay in its vast complexity—it was not just a single energy source, but a fusion of multiple forces, bound together in ways modern magic could not replicate.
Even if he had the knowledge, the world itself lacked the necessary conditions to support it.
For now.
---
Aelith narrowed her eyes, arms crossed.
Something about the creature had changed.
She wasn’t sure what, but her instincts told her it was dangerous.
It wasn’t an obvious difference, like size or presence, but something more subtle, more fundamental—like the shift in air pressure before a storm or the displacement of reality itself.
The very laws of magic around him seemed to bend ever so slightly, making her feel as if she were staring at something that should not exist.
But when she focused, the creature remained the same.
"No... something is different. I just can't see it."
A sharp, ragged breath.
Frid’s eyes snapped open, his entire body shuddering.
His mind replayed the moment again and again—the unnatural force invading his body, wrenching something ancient from his core.
A deep chill spread through his bones.
He knew what had been taken. He knew the weight of what that meant.
He did not speak. He simply sat in silence, his breathing shallow, his eyes locked onto the creature.
And then, slowly, a smile crept onto his lips.
A mad, fascinated, almost reverent grin.
---
"Interesting.."
The single word broke the silence.
Eo had been examining himself, tracing the aftermath of extracting Old Magic.
Something had changed.
The polyph structure of his body had subtly shifted, adopting an altered atomic arrangement. The Old Magic left behind a resonance, influencing how his bioelectric field reacted to elemental forces. His molecular bonds now behaved unpredictably, interacting with external magic in ways he could not fully control.
His body was evolving. Not physically. Not magically. But conceptually.
But none of this concerned him as much as the Blood Element.
Blood was unique.
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Unlike Water, which sustained, or Fire, which transformed, Blood was existence itself. It flowed, it conducted, it connected.
Eo broke it down into core components:
- Iron & Hemoglobin (Fe-based magic binding) – Structural composition.
- Bioelectric Charge (Plasma-based conductivity) – Energy transfer.
- Essence Circulation (Arcane Flow Control) – Motion and vitality.
He attempted to recreate it using the available elements in his body:
- Mist (H?O - Water Element) → Fluid structure.
- Amber (Fire - Energy Catalyst) → Heat activation.
- Earthy Orb (Minerals - Earth Element) → Structural integrity.
- Lightning (Plasma - Electrical Charge) → Energy conduction.
He fused them, forcing them into chemical and magical reactions.
Attempt #1:
H?O + Fe + Heat + Plasma → ???
The result? Failure.
The substance lacked movement. It was static, unable to flow.
Attempt #2:
H?O + Fe + Heat + Plasma + Arcane Flow → ???
Something shifted.
The compound self-regulated, maintaining an artificial circulation. It wasn’t Blood in its truest form—but it functioned similarly.
Eo didn’t replicate the Blood Element.
He had created something new.
A hybrid element—not alive, but reactive. It mimicked the function of blood while maintaining its own unique properties.
This was proof of something far greater.
If he could not copy magic, then he would simply evolve beyond it.
---
Eo’s experiment had yielded a new discovery.
He had not replicated Old Magic, nor had he perfectly recreated the Blood Element—but he had done something arguably more significant.
He had bridged the gap between elements, fusing them into a new state of existence.
Magic, at its core, was the manipulation of forces, bound by rules that even the strongest mages could not escape. But if magic itself was a construct, then what stopped him from breaking it apart, reorganizing it, and forging something entirely new?
Nothing.
Eo’s core pulsated.
The artificial blood-like substance within him was neither alive nor dead—it was a system, a self-sustaining cycle of energy and matter.
And it had potential.
He had only taken his first step.
---
Frid trembled.
His eyes were wide, his breathing uneven, but there was no fear—only worship.
A deep, unshakable reverence gripped his soul as he beheld the impossible.
This creature… this being was not bound by magic’s laws. It redefined them with its very existence.
Frid’s lips parted, his voice barely above a whisper.
“…Magnificent.”
His knees buckled, but he caught himself, unable to look away. His mind burned with devotion, an overwhelming need to understand—to witness.
It had no name.
No title.
And yet, it felt more real, more absolute, than anything he had ever encountered.
If such an existence walked the world…
Then what did that make the rest of them?
---
Aelith had seen powerful beings before.
She had faced sorcerers who could bend the winds, warriors who could cleave mountains in half.
But this?
This was different.
There was no presence, no pressure, no overwhelming aura.
Only change.
The sensation of something rewriting itself, shifting, adapting—an entity not bound by magic, but learning to manipulate it like a mere variable.
Her instincts screamed at her to run.
And yet, she remained.
Not out of bravery, but because she could not look away.
---
Unlike the others, Caelum did not tremble.
He did not speak.
He simply stood there, watching.
His golden eyes reflected the strange entity before him, cold and unreadable.
What he was seeing… what he was feeling…
It was beyond comprehension.
Not magic. Not sorcery.
Something new.
A force that should not exist, yet did.
His fingers twitched slightly, but he made no move.
There was no fear.
No reverence.
Only observation.
And in the depths of his mind, a thought took shape.
This creature… if it continues to grow—
What will it become?
---
Thorne clenched his fists, his breath uneven.
Unlike the others, his thoughts were not filled with reverence or fear.
They were filled with hunger.
Power.
This creature was power itself.
If he could grasp even a fraction of it—
If he could steal its secrets—
He would no longer be bound by limitations.
His heart pounded violently in his chest as a dark thought surfaced.
I need it.
I need that power.
Even if he had to betray, manipulate, or sacrifice—he would take what was necessary.
And when the time came, he would ascend beyond all others.
---
Eo extended a tendril, allowing a droplet of his new creation to fall.
The moment it touched the ground, it reacted.
The surface twisted, veins of unnatural energy spreading outward, causing the surrounding magic to distort for a brief moment before stabilizing.
The results were... promising.
But still, incomplete.
His body was changing, shifting to accommodate his discoveries—but there were limits.
For now.
---
Deep beneath the chamber, where the shadows lay thick and time seemed frozen, Antru, the High Grandmaster Mage, stopped bowing.
Before him stood the statue of a god with many arms, its featureless face staring downward as if looking upon him with judgment.
For years, he had prayed here, in this forgotten sanctum, offering devotion to the unknown deity that had once been worshipped by mages of old.
But now…
He turned his head sharply, his eyes narrowing.
Something was wrong.
The magic around him trembled.
He could feel it—a force twisting the very fabric of power itself, as though something fundamental was being rewritten.
Slowly, he rose to his feet, his expression solemn.
Whatever was happening above…
It was not something natural.
And it was growing.