Chapter 111: Pondering Spells "Don’t let it lead you, else you will slowly succumb to the will of the fragment as it changes your nature. It is only a raw concept. You decide how its truth manifests. How it actualizes in the world..." he warned. "That’s why you need to create spells, since they are the easiest to learn. Like I’ve said, you must repeatedly use your fragment to create the same effect in the same way until the pattern becomes ingrained. Then you assign words to that pattern — an incantation that triggers the practiced effect with minimal conscious effort," he explained. "Edicts on the other hand, are a bit broader and more difficult..." "Instead of one specific outcome, you’re shaping multiple parameters simultaneously, with fewer words, but each word carries more meaning and more intent. The mental image isn’t as tightly focused, which makes it harder to control, but more versatile. You might affect several targets, or influence multiple aspects of your concept at once." Finn wanted to ask a question, but Osmund continued unabated, intent to finish his run-on explanation before Finn would talk. "Declarations are laws. Rather than manipulating your concept, you’re instead defining how it works within a specific space. The words carry absolute authority, but the cost on your mind and your soul is immense. And the area you can affect is usually limited unless you have a core fragment," he said. "Start with spells. Master the basics before reaching for anything more complex. Find simple expressions of your fragment, practice them until they’re second nature, then build from there." He walked to where he’d left his book and picked it up. "For your first task, I want you to create a spell with your fragment. It shouldn’t be particularly elaborate. Just make a basic, reproducible effect that you can trigger reliably. Once you can do that, we’ll work on refinement and eventually more advanced applications." Finn blinked and mumbled the steps again, committing it to memory. But perhaps because of his furrowed brows in concentration, Osmund mistook his meaning for confusion. "What were you expecting? A step-by-step instruction manual?" Osmund’s tone was dry. "Every fragment is different. Every bearer interacts with their concept differently. I can teach you theory and show you examples, but ultimately you need to figure out how your fragment manifests." He turned to leave the clearing, taking along his book with him, then paused. "Oh, and also. Don’t try to copy what I showed you. Space... and whatever your fragment is, are two different concepts. What works for me would very likely not work for you. You must find your own path." With that, Osmund walked away, disappearing into the treeline. Finn stood alone in the clearing, deep in thought. He was already analyzing instances of his usage of Error, thinking back to the negotiation, to the way his fragment had highlighted Osmund’s lapses in concentration. The way it had pointed out vulnerabilities, exploitation points, flaws in the structure of the soul contract itself. That was passive activation. Instinctive. His fragment responding to circumstances without conscious direction. He pondered how he could turn something like that to a conscious and repeatedly replicable spell. His mind went to Althea. He’d seen her use Order Edicts multiple times — [Certain Trajectory], he remembered. Forcing projectiles to follow predetermined paths, removing the possibility of deviation from her declared outcome. And also, [Order Edict: Clarity] to stabilize his Ferropteryx urges and debts at the time. Now that he had a better idea of what she’d been doing, he almost scoffed at her claim to be inexperienced and still learning. How powerful is she? If that’s what ’inexperienced’ looks like... Finn wondered. He pushed the thought aside and started walking back toward the house on the hill. The task Osmund had given him seemed almost dismissive. Like an excuse to end the lesson quickly than an actual assignment he expected Finn to complete. But Finn had no intention of failing either way. He’d figure out how to make Error manifest as a spell. And then he’d master it so thoroughly that Osmund would regret underestimating him. By the time he reached the house, his mind was already churning with possibilities. He locked himself in the room and settled in, pulling a chair close to the window as his brain kicked into full gear. Melancholically, he almost felt like he was back on earth during a crunch week exam again. It was a totally different situation now, but the focus reminded him of earth. Error. Flaws. Mistakes. Inconsistencies. How do I turn these into a spell? Osmund had made it sound straightforward — practice the same effect repeatedly until it becomes ingrained, then assign words to trigger it. But where do I even start? Finn closed his eyes and reached inward, searching for his fragment the way he’d learned to sense his soul masses. His Storm Prowler — Syf was there, steady and obedient after the Geri and Freki adaptation. The Ferropteryx eagle too, now subdued with only its minor flight requirement remaining. The Crimson Fist Baboon, stable and reliable. And beneath them all — No. Not beneath. It was more encompassing — The Error fragment. Waiting like it always had been. Quiet and observant, only manifesting when circumstances called for it. That’s the problem, Finn huffed. It’s been passive this whole time. Instinctive. I was never even sure of its existence, talk less of trying to actively USE it. He thought back again to every instance where his fragment had helped him. Finding Syf’s true psyche. Spotting Priest when no one else could. Navigating the collapsing pocket space. Crossing the Stagnant Sea. Exploiting weaknesses in Osmund’s soul contract negotiation. All of those had been reactive. His fragment responding to threats, to problems, to flaws that already existed. But a spell required proactive control and conscious direction. Manifesting without waiting for circumstances to trigger it. Finn stood up. His rapidly firing thoughts made it impossible to sit still at all. He needed to think differently about this. What IS Error, fundamentally? He paced the room as his mind churned. Surprisingly, he thought about his time on Earth. University. The late nights he spent gaming with friends when they should have been studying. The frustration when a friend that was frankly just ass at a game suddenly wins a round or two because his own PC lagged. The rage when attacks that clearly missed still connected, or attacks that clearly hit somehow phased through. The craziness of some glitches even in multi-million dollar company games despite working on it for years before releasing. It was kind of an unwarranted correlation but that was where Finn’s mind went. Error is when things deviate from how they’re supposed to function. When expected outcomes fail to execute properly. When the rules skip or break down. That felt right. More right than trying to think of some profound meaning that would probably make sense, but that he had no frame of reference for or to relate to. His fragment could only actualize how he truly saw it. And to him, it was about making reality deviate from its intended behavior. Like a glitch in a game. Like lag causing a desync. Like a— Finn took a step forward while thinking about frame drops and lag, about how his character would appear in one place on screen while actually being somewhere else— And his body glitched.