Magic is an App | Book 1 | Chapter 10

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CHAPTER TEN

Learning magic the modern way

People say that a tool is only as great as the one who wields it. Assuming this was true, and assuming I truly was crazy enough to accept the responsibility Earth’s last grand magician placed on my shoulders, then it was high time I got to know the ins and outs of my digital grimoire.

So, here I was in the middle of the night, seated cross-legged on the edge of my new bed, browsing the app that had taught me magic. No. Correction. Grimoire hadn’t taught me magic so much as shoved it into my brain as if I were a digital storage device. Weird, I know, and it only got weirder.

But first, there were notifications to deal with. And again, the cherub voice came back.

“Congratulations,” it said, as soon as I’d pulled up the first message, “you’ve survived your first trip to the astral plane, earning you a bonus of fifty astral gems.”

A smile played on my lips. I appreciated freebies, even when they foreshadowed my wallet being emptied by the money pit of micro-transactions.

“Hi,” I said.

No response.

The proverbial ghost in the machine seemed determined not to answer me directly.

The second notification had similar content, giving me another fifty astral gems for uncovering the location of a hidden shrine to a fallen old god. Well, more like stumbled into it. But again, I wasn’t one to reject free loot when offered.

“What is a shrine?”

Still no response.

As for the Grimoire, it didn’t seem to have that information on hand. It didn’t really have a tutorial or a help desk button, and the instructional pop-ups were limited to what each option on the menu could offer.

Speaking of options, the one right underneath Spellbook was Journal, which I assumed contained the details of stuff I ought to know. A quick peek told me I was half-right.

“Okay, bizarro Brook-Sci is THE shrine. I was right.”

I kept reading, but there wasn’t much in Journal.

“There’s intel here about the mission, but it’s all stuff I’ve uncovered myself…nothing about what a shrine is.”

I sighed.

“You’re not very beginner-friendly…you look awesome, though.”

Aesthetics-wise, everything about Grimoire seemed geared toward my personal style, like how the font for options was a jumble of three of my most used Word fonts, but made to look like stylish graffiti. The background was a cool teal, which of course was my favorite color, though I hadn’t set it myself. I hadn’t even browsed the settings yet. So, seeing my preferences loaded into the app as if Grimoire was already aware of what I liked, this was the sort of attention to detail that I couldn’t help applauding. It also freaked me out a little, and this oddness reminded me of other strange things I’d witnessed in the astral plane.

I leaned forward and spied on the door at the other end of the basement, the one that led up to the house’s backyard patio, wondering if I had locked it properly. While in my head, unfounded fears of specters invading the basement so they could choke me to death persisted. These delusions weren’t easy to shake off, but I had Grimoire to steal my focus away.

Done with Journal, I moved down to Inventory.

“Inventory provides access to a pocket dimension where you can keep items purchased from the app store. It can hold up to five hundred pounds and seventy cubic feet of items,” I read.

A thrill ran through me as I imagined the possibilities of having a magical storage device only I could use. It was exactly the sort of thing an up-and-coming magician should have. I mean, where else would I hide the rabbit, a top hat?

Oh, speaking of rabbits, my gaze snapped to the side table next to my bed.

“You’ll do,” I said, as I picked up the lucky rabbit’s foot keychain I’d clipped to my new house keys.

Following the instructions, I placed the keychain and keys on top of my phone’s screen while the Inventory page was open. Then I said, “Open sesame,” the magic words Grimoire allowed me to choose for myself. I know I could’ve picked a more unique phrase, but I liked the classics.

Now, if I’d done it right, the items would’ve vanished in a puff of magical mystery. Nothing happened, though. I waited a second, then a minute. But three minutes later, there was still nothing.

An owl’s hooting reached my ears, distracting me, forcing my gaze toward the basement’s alcove window. Outside 279 68^(th) Street was a darkness that seemed oppressive, creepy, as if the lights from the streetlamps lacked the power to brighten up the long night.

“Maybe I should do this in the daytime…”

Okay, I wasn’t usually this jumpy. I loved horror movies, particularly ones riddled with jump scares. So, my being all weird about shadowy streets and locked doors—it was a new and uncomfortable feeling. Another fresh change to go with all the others that have followed my exile to New York.

I sighed.

Then I slapped my cheek.

“Don’t be a pussy.”

I’d been going back and forth between indecision and decisiveness since the incident, as if there were two wholly different versions of Ollie living in my head—the coward and the daredevil. But today’s crazy adventure helped me to realize that I couldn’t keep hesitating. Not if I wanted to live, to change, to shake off the guilt and shame I wore like a football team’s shoulder pads.

“Dad never hesitated.”

If my father’s sacrifice taught me one thing, it’s that life is about stepping forward even when things get hard. Especially when they’re hard.

I slapped both cheeks this time.

“Keep going.”

With a calming breath, I reworked the problem of Inventory and found out I should’ve read the fine print in the details, too.

“Physical items not purchased from the app store won’t fit inside the inventory without undergoing an enchantment process. Items found on the astral plane are the exception.” My brow creased. “Shit, that’s a real blatant way to force me into micro-transactions…”

Despite Grimoire’s prodding, I resisted the urge to check the app store right then. Not yet. First, I had to recheck Spellbook, taking my time to explore it this round.

Spellbook had four tabs; one for Spells, which only had Ghost on it, Spell Cards, which was empty, Appendix, which might prove helpful, and finally, Magic Circuit, which was a phrase I recalled reading during that time I’d first activated Grimoire.

In the appendix, I looked up the definition of magic, at least in terms of this job I’d inherited.

“Magic is power born of the spirit—the endless possibilities existing within every living thing—that allows its wielder to influence life, death, the world,” I began reading. “It is one’s hopes and dreams, the inner truth of one’s desires, manifested through spells earned from knowledge or circumstance.”

I glanced at the fingers on my left hand while wondering why Ghost was born within me.

“One’s inner desire…circumstance,” I repeated, my brow creasing. “Is that what I wanted? To become a ghost?”

With all the bad press and negative attention that I got in L.A., maybe. Could I blame my subconscious if it wanted the power to disappear? Not really. It was the whole point of moving—to become anonymous.

“If this were any other point in my life, then I’d have learned something else…maybe super strength or wielding the elements.” The creases on my brow deepened. “What a wasted opportunity.”

To be clear, I wasn’t throwing shade at Ghost. Intangibility was a cool power, especially since it saved me and Dre from a horrifying death. Sure, I can’t punch through walls or call lightning down from the sky, but Ghost had more practical possibilities, such as walking into bank vaults and stealing millions, or sneaking into corporate offices and committing corporate espionage.

Okay, yeah, maybe I had a bit of villainy in me after all. Not that I would ever act on it.

Now that I knew magic’s definition, I also needed to understand what spells were. In this, the Spell tab’s pop-up was helpful.

“Spells are a set of instructions that help a magician reshape their reality.” I read. “So, it’s like coding for a computer program…or maybe mathematical formulas?”

I couldn’t help nodding appreciatively. Spells having proper structures made them sound less ambiguous to me than Briar Rose’s sentiments about freedom and expression.

“Harnessing mana—the life energy existing within all living things—a magician can summon the elements, fashion weapons and armor, bottle sentiments, brew knowledge, drink successes, and even conjure spirits from other dimensions.”

In my mind’s eye, I imagined a smiling middle-aged woman with short gray hair and glowing eyes half-hidden behind old-looking spectacles seated cross-legged in front of me. She’d be in a flashy long robe, offering me hot tea while explaining all this jargon in a more fantastical way than just reading off my phone’s screen. At least that’s how I pictured Earth’s last grand magician in my head.

Fictional Briar Rose told me to check my mana, and so I turned my mind’s eye inward, focusing on that familiar warmth circling my heart. It was stronger now compared to earlier, a pulsing that seemed full of life, which meant mana was just like any other part of my body. With a little rest and some relaxation, like my earlier dip in the bathtub, mana refilled itself without fuss.

I had a question for fictional Briar Rose, though.

“What if I wanted to go beyond normal—how could I achieve that?”

Obviously, the Briar Rose in my head didn’t have an answer. Someone else did, though.

“You’ll want to check Magic Circuit.”

The cherub speaker spoke English, but with a bit of an accent. Maybe French or German? One thing I was certain of, they didn’t sound like an all-powerful grand magician. Too young.

“Thanks…Got any other advice?”

Silence.

“Seriously?”

Still nothing.

I sighed, wondering how I could tempt the app’s voice into speaking again. It’ll happen. I just had to be patient.

Anyway, Magic Circuit’s pop-up explained the tab as a visual representation of my abilities, but the diagram appearing on the screen was nothing like the status I was used to seeing in video games. It had no attribute points to quantify the changes my body was going through, because reality, it seemed, wasn’t so easily quantified. Instead, I saw an image of myself. Think Leonardo da Vinci’s Vitruvian Man but more me than a naked bearded Renaissance dude.

“First magic circuit…”

It was a phrase written in tiny script right underneath the image of my extended left arm that explained the circular line of pale blue static running from my heart to the tips of my hand.

I shut my eyes again.

This time, I searched beyond the warmth around my chest, sensing the energy flitting across my left arm. It felt familiar, like the buzz I got after drinking two energy drinks, but localized, and strongest along my fingers.

With my eyes blinking open, I asked another question. “What is a magic circuit?”

The pop-up explained a magic circuit as a line of refined mana looping from the heart, which was the center of one’s being or connection to the divine, and, as with my first circuit, the hand, which represented the human capacity for creation and destruction.

“Magic circuits represent a magician’s talent—the amount of mana one can store and refine inside the body, as well as the strength of magic one can wield. More magic circuits mean greater possibilities, a larger mana capacity and the ability to wield more powerful spells.”

I felt a slight chill running through me, forcing me to take a break from reading. Nothing supernatural had happened. The basement just got cold around this time of night, which was why I grabbed a blanket and wrapped it around my shoulders. Then I went back to work.

“Mana flows in through breath, refines in the heart, and travels to the body’s edges—hands, feet, maybe even…other places. Extremities become casting tools. The rest? Just along for the ride.”

Now I knew why snapping the fingers of my left hand was my way to cast Ghost, though I couldn’t help wondering if other hand gestures might also activate my spell. On a more worrying note, if only my left arm got juiced up, wasn’t this discrimination against the rest of my body?

Not necessarily.

I glanced at my right hand, my feet, and then my, um, privates. Because, assuming extremities was literal, that meant I had five or maybe six opportunities to create magic circuits.

“Weird, this stuff’s more like science theory than the occult mumbo jumbo I used to read in novels…I need a drink.”

I got up and walked around the wall behind my bed to get to the mini-fridge Aunt Odette kept in the basement. I cracked open an orange soda, letting the fizz cool my brain. Magic circuits, mana flow, breathing techniques—this felt like finals week at wizard school.

“That’s the stuff.”

I burped.

Then, because of its proximity and not because I was a frightened child, my gaze drifted to the back door.

“Let it go, Ollie.”

My eyes homed in on the handle.

“Don’t do it.”

I really didn’t want to, but I couldn’t let it go. My brain wouldn’t shut up, forcing me to double-check the lock, and I felt bad for giving in.

“Coward.”

Anyway, I didn’t go back to my bed. The padded bench by the window alcove seemed a cozier alternative, and not just because I was trying to prove that the darkness outside didn’t bother me. So, between repeated glances at the window, I discovered how I might form more magic circuits in my body.

“Study and practice…” I frowned. “That’s pretty basic.”

If it were just about studying and practicing, then I, the martial arts enthusiast, had this in the bag. Only I doubted that whatever weird thing was happening at Brook-Sci would give me the years I needed to study magic properly.

“Wait, what’s this—mana breathing?”

A phrase Dre had mentioned when he’d read about mana for me showed up now in the diagram.

“A conscious energy breathing technique that draws mana into the body at a faster rate than natural methods, while also aiming to harmonize the body, mind, and spirit, creating a continuous flow of magical energy through one’s breath.”

Then, in big, bold letters that seemed to jump off the screen, Grimoire recommended I check the app store for a suitable mana breathing technique I could learn.

“Fuck it. Time to go buy shit.”

As I tapped the option, I got a new message from Earth’s last grand magician.

 

Hello again, Oliver!

Welcome to the Tower of Joy’s Digital Emporium, the one-stop shop for all your magical needs. Whether you’re looking to bottle courage, brew disaster, or drink a love potion, our digital emporium’s got it all.

We offer a variety of services to help you on your journey to becoming the best magician you can be. Enchanting, alchemy, an apothecary for spell components, spell card customization, creature summoning tools—whatever you desire.

Also, if you’re looking to sell to your peers, you can try the emporium’s auction. Our commission rates are very competitive.

Please note that same-day delivery isn’t possible right now. Physical items purchased through the emporium will take a week to be delivered to your chosen address.

Now, go have a look and have fun while you shop!

And don’t forget, I believe in you.

 

Briar Rose

Earth’s Last Grand Magician

 

P.S. Here’s fifty astral gems to help you along.

P.P.S. First-time users get a discount on first-time purchases, so go crazy!

 

Just like that, I was hooked.

Seriously, how could I not be? This was a store that enticed me with limited-edition elixirs that gave one an hour’s worth of heightened luck or offered discounts on single-use crystal balls that predicted someone’s future death. Not that I could afford either of those things with the three hundred astral gems I had in my app store wallet.

“Magic Sword of Blazing Light…cool.”

This pop-up that arrived while I browsed through the Magical Baubles tab nearly made me pull out the credit card Mom gave me for emergencies.

“Ten thousand astral gems…are you fucking serious?”

I’d already seen the conversion rate. It was fifty US dollars to one astral gem.

Sure, I would be basically buying a lightsaber, but for half a million dollars?

“There’s something wrong with this pricing…”

Yep, I sobered up quickly after that. The thing was, all the items on sale at the app store had ridiculous prices, and that included the stuff I needed. I found what I was looking for on the Techniques tab, though there were too many choices to choose from.

“John Dee’s Starry Night Breathing, Kunlun’s Way of Water…”

I tapped on Circe’s Pneuma, but the item wasn’t available for me because, according to the store’s pop-up, I could only buy merchandise meant for one-circuit magicians.

“Dude, that’s discriminating against talent…”

Okay, maybe Grimoire was just trying to keep me from dying horribly because I’d tried to put on boots too big for me. I could appreciate that. Still, I didn’t like feeling gated. Thanks to that, my only option was the cheapest technique, Anthem, by Unknown.

“Discover the beat that’ll bring you balance, promote self-healing and transformation…be in a rhythm of equilibrium.”

This one-liner description sounded cool, but it was also sort of vague, and it didn’t really fill me with confidence. Beggars couldn’t be choosers, though, and even with the first-time discount boon, Anthem still cost me two hundred and fifty gems.

As I clicked on purchase, my phone’s screen pulsed, and for a second, I thought I heard a heartbeat.

“Thanks for purchasing Anthem, by Unknown!” The ghost in the machine was back. “This digital-exclusive item has been added to your inventory.”

“Anytime you wanna chat, I’m available.”

I know I should feel frightened of a disembodied voice only I could hear. But there was something about the cherub-like voice that kept me from being frightened of it. Honestly, it sort of sounded like I was talking to a friend, which was something I no longer had. Not since the incident.

I had fifty astral gems left, which, thanks to the insane pricing scheme, was as good as me being broke. But that didn’t stop me from browsing the single-use spell cards I’d seen on the app store’s front page. Shroud Step caught my eye the most. According to its description, the spell propelled its caster forward through waves of magic, blurring ahead for a short distance in an instant.

Yes, it sounded a lot like what I’d done with Ghost when Dre and I escaped bizarro Brook-Sci, and I think this was by design. Underneath the item’s name was the label, Signature Magic, which a pop-up explained was unique to me, a power born from the endless possibilities of my magic.

“So, the crazy thing we did out of desperation gave birth to this spell…It’s an Ollie Osborn original?”

Goosebumps spread across my arms as I leaned my head against the window. It was a while later, after a big geeky grin had grown on my face, when I turned back to my screen.

“Next time, baby.”

Done with shopping, it was time for study and practice. As the store promised, Anthem was already in my inventory.

[Do you want to learn magic?]

“It’s you again.”

Who would’ve thought that I would come to love seeing this annoying notification? Fate was a strange thing.

“Yes,” my grin widened, “teach me.”

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