[RAW]Hearthomancy -- Chapter 2

Chapter 2

There were still a few more documents for me to sign, so we retreated outside and used the hood of Vince's car to sort through and take care of them.  The muscle-bound realtor looked upset that we hadn't encountered any monsters inside the old house, but I knew that was unlikely.  Even with the amount of mana pouring out of the place, there wasn’t a dungeon entrance in a hundred kilometers.  You had to head into Philadelphia or Pittsburgh to find the nearest wormhole.

“Good luck,” he said, shaking my hand one last time as he looked up at the building doubtfully.

I waved as he pulled away.

Resisting the temptation to just run back inside and investigate the hearth, I instead went back to work.  Owning Rotwood Manor wouldn’t do me any good if the ceiling collapsed or the walls caved in.  I needed to cover and patch the remaining holes as quickly as possible before I began the long and laborious work of repairing the place.

Returning to my tools, I worked like a man possessed the rest of the day.  Several of my skills actually leveled up, particularly Roofing, as I quickly placed and secured the tarps over the roof. They had cost me hundreds of dollars since I needed a ton to cover all three wings, but I knew it was worth it.

Securing the atrium above the ballroom had been the hardest part.  Almost all the glass was gone, just leaving rusting metal struts and gaping holes lined with filthy glass.  Still, I persevered, not stopping till the entire roofline of Rotwood Manor was secure with heavy blue tarps.

Next, I used my remaining plywood to patch and cover the holes in the walls.  The outside of the manor had layers of siding, I found spots of the original board-and-batten siding covered by clapboard, even stucco.  Eventually, it all had to be torn down and replaced, but at that time I was just worried about securing my new home from further water damage and invasive pests.

By the time I was done night was falling, and the woods around my new home had grown quiet and dim.  Only a few birds quietly sang in the gloom.

I had worked all day, likely harder than I had ever worked before, but instead of feeling tired, I felt reinvigorated.  I wasn’t sure it wasn’t from the pride I felt at being a first-time homeowner or the second-hand effects of all the mana in the air, but I felt great.

Logically, I knew I should have packed things up and headed home.  I had spent the last few months living with my parents, saving up the money I needed to purchase Rotwood Manor.  Living in their basement wasn’t ideal, but it had all been worth it.

Pulling out my phone, I sent them a quick text, letting them know I’d be staying at the manor a bit longer, trying to get some more work done.  My mom texted back, reminding me to be safe.

Grinning, I tucked my phone away and reached back into my truck’s glove compartment, pulling out my grimoire.

All good wizards had a grimoire, a tome that contained all their spells and accumulated arcane knowledge.  Most big-time legit adventuring wizards had fancy, leather-bound books with brass fixtures and an embellished spine.  My grimoire was a marble composition notebook, the kind sold at the local dollar store.

And while it wasn’t as fancy as other spellbooks, I knew the contents were worth their weight in gold.  There were few Hearthomancers in the world, it was a rare class, rarely pursued by those in the mystic arts.  And while the area of their spellcraft was limited, what they lacked in range they made for in sheer power.

I hadn’t been kidding when I told Vince I would need to worry about doing construction work ever again.

If I could bond to the heart of Rotwood Manor and make it my lair, my home.

Flipping through the book, I found the binding spell I had created, one that would bind the manor and its energies to me, the home’s new owner.  Everything I needed for the ritual was packed in the truck, I just needed the willpower to see it through.

I glanced over my shoulder at the dark, looming house.

“Fuck it,” I said, snapping the book shut.  “I’m doing it.”

Reaching into the back of the truck, I grabbed the old fishing box I used to house my ritual magic components.  Inside were containers full of dried herbs, pulverized minerals, and gems charged with my own mana.  Everything a budding Wizard like me needed to conduct a bonding spell.

Hurrying through the house, I returned to the hearth. It glowed with unearthly light, the shimmering shades of mana doing nothing to dispel the darkness of the coming night.

Grabbing the lantern and my carving knife from my kit, I quickly cleared a spot in front of the fireplace. I kicked away all the accumulated garbage and dirt till I could see the warped and water-damaged floorboards.

Setting up the light, I quickly got to work, using my notebook as reference as I carved the ritual circle into the floor. It wasn’t a pentagram or anything, despite what the preachers might have said, magic had nothing to do with Satanism.  Instead, I carved a series of concentric circles, each one separated by a set of runes.  I rubbed herbs and minerals like salt and iron filings into each one, creating rings of protection.

It wasn’t to protect me or the house, but rather the connection I was trying to establish between us. The circles would block out interference, ensuring a smooth binding.

It took me nearly an hour to complete the rings.  Double-checking my notes, cribbed from a dozen different books and websites, I ran through the spell again in my head.  Some of it I had made up, but it felt right.  I could feel the house’s mana brushing against me.

Rotwood Manor was lonely, it longed for a master, someone to take care of it, to bring it back to glory.

Once the circles were ready, I went to the fireplace and cleaned out the ash and rot that had accumulated inside.  Unearth all the garbage I found an ancient fireplace grate, the metal rusty and brittle with age.  The second my fingers brushed against it, I felt a surge of power, of connection.

Setting it up, I ran back outside and grabbed all the scrap wood from my earlier labors.

Piling them into the fireplace on top of the grate, I added a handful of herbs. They had been gathered from Rotwood’s grounds the first day I had come to tour the manor. Materials gathered from the potency had the greatest potency for the ritual.

Retrieving a lighter, I jumped back when the wood caught instantly, sparking to life with red-hued flames. Catching myself on the mantle, I narrowly avoided stepping on the protection circles and nearly ruining all my work.

Taking a moment to steady my breath, I ran through the spell one more time as I took a seat in the middle of the rings.  I call upon my magic, allowing it to fill and empower the circles.  Once they were charged, I began casting the spell.

I thought I would need to coax Rotwood Manor’s mana to me, to call it to me.  Instead, the second I began the spell I felt it rush into me, hitting me in the chest like a sledgehammer.  My vision whited out as arcane energy snapped through me light bolts of lightning.

Dimmily, I continued to chant the spell, working each syllable through numb lips.  Alerts popped up in my vision.

Hearth Magic has reached Lvl 2!

Hearth Magic has reached Lvl 3!

Class Wizard (Hearth Adept) has reached Lvl 3!

…

More rolled by, but I lost track as I focused everything I had in completing the spell.

Finally, I uttered the last verse.  Just as I blacked out, a new message appeared.

Do you wish to set Rotwood Manor as your lair? Yes//No

“Yes!” I shouted.

Another bolt ripped through me, and my thoughts were torn away.

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

“Mister?  Mister, are you okay?”

Blinking my eyes, I looked up and saw a ghost hovering above me.

She gave me a small grin.  “Thank goodness, you’re all right!”

Groaning, I sat up.  Wan sunlight was breaking through the gaps and holes in the walls; I had apparently passed out and spent the night in front of Rotwood Manor’s hearth.

I wasn’t sure what I was more dazed by, the ghost floating above me, or the roiling flame that burned in the manor’s fireplace.

Rotwood Manor Hearth – 100%

“Mister?”

I turned back and inspected the apparition.

She looked like a beautiful woman, spun from smoke and mana.  She drifted several feet above her floor, her pearl-white hair floating around her head like an iridescent halo. A lace nightgown and matching shaw defined her form, the fabric wicking away to ephemeral wisps.

“Who are you?” I asked.

The spirit floated back, tapping her finger against her chin.  “That’s a really good question!”

Groaning, I sat up.  I noticed I had a dozen System notifications demanding my attention, but I shut them down.  Instead, I focused on the power flowing through me.

I could feel the house, and its mana, coursing around me.  Reaching out, I couldn’t feel my own mana, my own reserve anymore.  Instead, it had been subsumed, replaced by the mana of Rotwood Manor.

It was a heady sensation, erasing any pain or discomfort brought about by sleeping on a hard, dirty floor.

I had succeeded, binding myself, body and soul, to my new lair.

“Mister?”

Snapping back to the moment, I focused on the spirit floating above me.

“It’s Brent, not Mister,” I get up, dusting the worst of the dirt and the grime off my clothes.

“Okay then, Brent, why are you sleeping on my floor?”

I frowned.  “Your floor?  For someone who has no idea who they are, that’s a pretty bold claim.”

The spirit looked puzzled.  “It is, isn’t it?  But I know it’s true, this is my house.  I can feel it around me, I know it intimately, like it was my own body. If nothing else, I can remember its halls, its rooms, and the forest around it.”

She glanced around, her expression growing morose.  “Especially back in better days.”

The spirit drifted up, her eyes roving across the rotting walls, warped floorboards, and leaky ceiling.

Taking the moment, I looked through the sprawl of notifications poking at the edge of my consciousness.

Hearth Magic has reached Lvl 5!

Class Wizard (Hearth Adept) has reached Lvl 5!

Class Wizard (hearth Adept) has evolved to Hearth Wizard Lvl 1!

My heart skipped a beat.  I had finally unlocked the Class I wanted.

Proficiency Hearth Mana unlocked!

By binding their spirit to the hearth of their lair, the Hearth Wizard has replaced their own mana pool with the ambient mana of their lair.  Their MP now reflects the ambient mana available within their lair.

Spell-casting potential outside their lair is greatly diminished

Spell-casting potential within their lair is greatly amplified.

I nearly passed out again when I checked my status.

“Twenty thousand?” I choked, rereading my available MP.

“Brent?” The spirit floated back down.  “Are you okay?”

Skill Hearth Spirit Unlocked!

Hearth Wizards bound to a sufficiently powerful lair may summon a friendly Hearth Spirit, which personifies their lair.  These familiars can channel their master’s spells and act as guardians for their lair.

Their personalities and appearances are typically drawn from the history of the lair.  Higher levels of this Proficiency increase the spirit's abilities.

Glancing at her, a new stat window appeared.

Lorelei

Race: Hearth Spirit

HP: 100/100

MP: 20000/20000

Ability Scores

Strength:

Finesse:

Fortitude:

Resilience:

Wisdom:

Discipline:

Classes

Hearth Spirit Lvl 5

Skills

Hearth Restoration Lvl 1

Proficiencies

Hearth Magic Lvl 5

Lorelei frowned and waved her hands in front of her face.  “Gah, what is this?”

“You don’t know what a stat screen is?” I asked, closing the System.

“No!” she answered, clearly relieved when the data disappeared.

I chuckled.  “It's a bit too early in the morning to talk about the System, at least not without some coffee.  Follow me, and I’ll explain the screwed-up nature of our world.”