THAUMATURGY
A Treatise on the Nature and Workings of Magick

[EDITOR'S NOTE: The author of this work did an excellent job of proposing his theory, and I believe that his conclusions may actually be valid. However, I find some of his implications and reasonings may be somewhat flawed and/or biased by his own personal opinions. I do not present this document to the library as a rigorous proof of his theories, but for the completeness of the library's records, and I take no responsibility for the accuracy of the contents -- only for the accuracy of the translation.]

I. On the Necessity for a Unifying Theory

	"'So how does magic work?' I was a mere apprentice wizard at the time, and my young mind was greedy for knowledge.

	"My wise instructor replied, 'Magic works in the way that magic works. If I told you, then you would not understand. Indeed... I cannot tell you, because magic is magic. Mere words can not describe the supernatural nature of the force you are just now learning to perceive. Be patient, my apprentice. Your answers will come to you in time.'

	"At that moment, I knew he was right about three things. Magic does, of course, work like magic. I would not have understood if he had told me. And the answers would indeed come to me in time. But he was wrong about one thing: Magic is not some intangible, mysterious, supernatural force. Even in my apprenticeship I knew that magic was something that could be understood and described... and from that moment, I knew my goal would be to learn everything I could about how magic worked so that I could find the words to explain it."

	A theme present across mythology, legend, and fantasy is the concept of magic. Magic is a powerful and mysterious force, an arcane power wielded by the esoteric collection of men and women who, through some machination or another, have found the way to tap into it. Every tradition of wizards has had a different theory about the nature of the power they command and different concepts about the proper method for controlling it. Some wizards have relied on precisely calibrated diagrams and symbols, others have depended upon tools and focuses, and others still appeared to have no need for any such constructs and commanded the forces of magic through their very whim.

	All of these varied styles and methodologies concerning the essence known as magic have a few tenets in common. Magic produces effects not simply explained by classical science. Every tradition agrees that magic is accessible to those who understand its implementation, despite their disagreements upon the nature of this implementation. Indeed, there have even been fierce clashes between some traditions where each side has applied its machinations against the opposition, and both sides produced equally powerful results from dramatically different processes.

	Since, therefore, it is obviously possible to harness magic in different ways, there must be some underlying nature of magic itself that allows it to be molded according to the will of those who know its use. Through empirical investigation and logical analysis, I have attempted to develop a unifying theory of magic that allows for the phenomena demonstrated by wizards spanning across traditions and cultures. Following the presentation of this theory, I will posit some examples of the implications that follow from this proposal.

II. On the Magical Law of Similarity

	"'Stroke! Stroke! Stroke!' The muscular captain of our airship shouted a rhythm to his crewmen as he focused on manning the helm to navigate his vessel through the storm that had unexpectedly brewed. The sails were furled and the hatches were battened down. The oars cut through the air, pulling the ship forward as though the air were water. The keel of the ship left a wake in the storm clouds as they passed through.

	"Suddenly another airship appeared to materialize out of the fog ahead of us, with its cannons trained upon our hull. Its captain bellowed across the storm at us, ordering us to stand down and prepare to be boarded if we wanted to stay afloat. Our own captain shouted, 'All available hands to the cannons! We're going to fight this one out!'
	
	"The following battle was fierce, with columns of flame hundreds of feet long belching out from the cannons on both sides as lightning crashed and wind howled all around. Finally we scored a direct hit on their starboard hull, blasting a gaping hole in the side. The enemy ship was suddenly scurrying with activity as the hands aboard ran for the lifeboats as their airship began to sink down through the clouds, just like a sailing ship under cannon fire sinks through the water. We had won this battle, but everyone knew that the fight could have easily gone the other way."

	Before I may present my analysis of the nature of magic, I must first explain the magical Law of Similarity. In simple terms, this law dictates that magic behaves in predictable ways that may be modeled by a similar application of non-magical principles. This implies that mundane methods of logical analysis can be used to study magical phenomena, although it may require special tools to measure and observe these phenomena.

	A gross example of the magical Law of Similarity can be seen in the function of certain varieties of magical airships. These airships sail through the air like a normal ship sails upon the sea, with the advantages and disadvantages thereof. These airships are rowed by a crew of oarsmen, they sink if their hulls are breached, and their propulsion may be augmented by the wind.

	The airship example, however, is not an applicable example to the search for a unifying theory of magic, because not every tradition of magic uses the magical Law of Similarity in the design of airborne vehicles. Indeed, not every tradition even recognizes the Law of Similarity, but I have assumed its existence for my analysis of magic. I can neither prove nor disprove this Law, but my observations have indicated that, whether it is inherently true or not, it includes and accounts for enough magical phenomena that I feel secure in its application. While any proof thus derived may not be completely rigorous, I believe that my resulting theory can be sufficiently supported by other evidence and thereby vindicate my presumption of correctness of the Law of Similarity. So while this may not be an actual law, per se, it is convenient to use as a predictive source to generate ideas that may then be otherwise defensible.
	
	A second magical law, the magical Law of Contagion, is often cited as a complementary theory to the Law of Similarity. It states that things that have been in contact retain a connection even after physical proximity is no longer present. The implications of this Law include the notion that affecting a part of something will have an effect on the whole, which is the foundation of many kinds of curse-craft. These two Laws together comprise the principle of sympathetic magic that is used in some traditions. (Credit goes to Sir James George Frazier.) The magical Law of Contagion, however, is less important to my theory. I will provide evidence that my theory will encompass the phenomena described by the Law of Contagion, but I do not intend to use this law in its derivation.
	
III. On the Basic Principles of Magical Energy,
	 AND Conventions to be Observed in This Treatise

	"I knew it meant trouble for the poor boy who hit Gelm with a rubber dart when Gelm drew his bow. The action looked menacing enough just from the appearance one could see with one's eyes.

	"But on the astral plane, the image was far more fearful. The rising anger of Gelm's annoyance was silhouetted against the powerful surge of magical energy flowing from his personal pattern into his bow as he pulled the bowstring taut without first nocking an arrow to it. The energy solidified into an arrow of pure flame just before he let go of the string.

	"The whole interchange of shots took less than a second, leaving me no time to look away before the flame arrow left a cauterized hole through the boy's chest.

	"The stories in the taverns are already calling him Gelm Child-Killer. Just last night, he was just Gelm Fartree, one more adventuring elf passing through town to spend his recently-earned money."

	There is a general consensus among magical traditions that magic employs the use of energy. This is such a basic concept that this fact is often taken for granted -- of course there is energy. It is the same thing as stating that mundane processes employ energy; it is almost a matter of definition.
	
	Terms used for this magical energy vary from tradition to tradition. Eastern cultures call it ki (Japanese), gi (Korean), qi or ch'i (Chinese), maya or rta (Hindu). Various European traditions have called it aether, quintessence, or ichor. The Inuits called it inua or sila. In this treatise, however, I will use the Polynesian term, mana. Note that the use of this term, however, will be as defined here, and not as the original Polynesian term was defined.
	
	In this document, mana will be defined as a type of energy that is distinct from kinetic energy, chemical energy, and electromagnetic energy, including heat and light. As such, it cannot be detected by instruments that measure these kinds of energy. It may be possible to develop mechanical instruments to detect mana energy, but the construction of such a device is beyond the scope of this portion of this treatise.

	Mana energy, like any other kind of energy, can be converted into other forms of energy through various processes, and even into mass, probably on a relation that adds another term to the equation E=mc^2. The resulting equation could, then, subsume special relativity, much as relativity subsumed Newtonian mechanics, by describing all phenomena that special relativity includes in addition to magical phenomena not previously accounted for. The derivation of this formula, however, is also outside the scope of this treatise. The conversions of mana into other forms of energy, though, is within the scope of this paper and will be discussed in a later section.
	
	The term "wizard" in this work will be used to refer to any individual who understands and/or consciously manipulates this mana energy. This classification is done without any regard to tradition or culture, nor any regard to any other definition of the word. Thus, the term includes witches, shamans, spellcasters of all kinds, mystics, and possibly even those with psychic capacity. (Whether psychic power involves or influences mana is unknown. It seems to have some properties that differ from normal magic, but all of the effects can be reproduced by other magics. One leading theory is that psychic power uses a different state of mana than the more well-known traditions of wizardry, which would explain the way it fails to interact with classical wizardry.)
	
	With no pejorative intended, the word "mundane" when used as a noun shall herein be used to refer to anyone who is not a wizard. In its adjectival sense, it shall retain its usual meaning, in addition to the sense that the described noun is inherently non-magical.

	The word "paraform" is a term of my own devising that refers to any object or construct composed of the form of matter analogue to mana as normal matter is analogue to normal energy. For a further discussion of this term, its definition, and the class of objects it describes, refer to section VII, "On Persistent Magical Constructs."
	
IV. On the Loss of Magical Potential

	"'Magic? You mean, like the parlor tricks that the guys on stage do? Harry Houdini? Pshaw.'
	
	"That's about the normal reaction I get when people find out I'm a mage.
	
	"It doesn't make it easier when their very disbelief makes it harder for me to work my magic. It's no surprise that most of my companions decided to cloister themselves away from the mundane world, but that's not the life for me. I didn't fight against the world to learn magic just so I could seal myself up and cast my little spells for the rest of my life. I still want to get a job... make money... get married... raise a family... but I can't just walk away from the magic in my blood, either."

	Let us presume that many living beings -- and human beings in particular, for the purposes of this discussion -- have the capacity to sense magical energy. It has been observed that animals, especially housepets, will react to nearby supernatural phenomena even if no visual or auditory cues would indicate unusual activity. Extrasensory Perception, or ESP, may be part of this capacity in human beings. However, it should be immediately obvious that most human beings lack any noteworthy magical capacity. The fact that some human beings CAN use magic, on the other hand, indicates that at least some humans DO have magical capacity.
	
	Let us presume that all humans at some point in history were magically sensitive. Perhaps they still are, and every child born has full use of this magical sense, barring mental defects or damage. Let us also presume that the manipulation of mana -- in other words, the use of magic -- is a learned skill. To make an analogy, all humans (barring those same defects and damage) have an instinctive capacity for language, as evidenced by the natural acquisition of spoken language at a young age, but reading and writing are skills that must be taught.
	
	Given these presumptions, imagine a culture where those who understood the means by which to influence the flow of mana jealously hoarded their knowledge. People may come to these wizards (as defined in the previous sections) for services and guidance, but only a small subset of magic is ever demonstrated to non-wizards -- usually only for entertainment or to directly influence something about an individual -- and the most minor of magics ever fall into use by those who have not received direct instruction from an experienced wizard. With this kind of power thus concentrated in a small number of people, it should not be unexpected that wizards might charge for their services or expect some other form of compensation.
	
	Alternately, consider a world where society considers magic evil (the three monotheistic religions of our world -- Judaism, Christianity, and Islam -- all condemn the use of magic) or in which governments do not want the common man to have the kind of power that freely available magic would impart. In those cases, there would be campaigns to actively stomp out magic use, driving those who do understand its secrets into seclusion or near-extinction.
	
	In worlds such as these, then, magic would be a relative rarity. Only those chosen by a wizard, in a place safe from restricting influences, would ever be able to fully harness the power of magic, excepting the chance that a new tradition of wizard might arise from some discovery by a mundane. Most members of the society would be born, grow up, and die without any understanding of magic. As the generations pass and the population grows, then, the number of people who are never even exposed to magic at all grows. Without any examples of magic to sense, then, the magic sense of these people will dull and atrophy. Society develops to adapt to life without magic, possibly producing sciences that produce many of the desired results -- possibly at less cost than asking a wizard.
	
	In such a society, the following downward spiral would then occur: Those who do not perceive magic will not be able to reproduce magic. Those who cannot reproduce magic despite their best efforts will begin to disbelieve in magic. Disbelief in magic serves to dampen any perceptions that may remain, continuing the cycle of decay. After a time, this decay will bottom out to a zero value with great inertia, making it nearly impossible for anyone to ever acquire magic at all.
	
	What, then, of the children born with magical sense? Why could not someone who wanted to believe in magic but could not use it train up a child to be able to become a wizard?
	
	The answer is similarly doomed cycle.
	
	Even if a child is born with the ability to perceive the mana in the world around him, he will not learn to identify it if he is not shown patterns to learn. The society around him will not produce the necessary displays of magic. A baby learns to recognize objects by seeing them. He learns to recognize sounds by hearing them. He learns to recognize pain by feeling it. What if a child with a sense of sight was never given a rattle to look at -- would the baby learn to interact with a rattle? What if a baby were never spoken to -- would the baby learn to speak? What if a baby never experienced pain -- would the baby learn to avoid danger? What if a baby were never given a demonstration of magic -- would the baby learn to use magic? Would he recognize it if he felt it?

	Furthermore, a child learns how to interact with the world through observing the results of his actions. He learns that objects move when pushed because he can see the change in the object's position and feel the motion. He learns that pinching himself hurts because he can feel it. He learns that banging things together makes noise because he can hear it.
	
	But does a blind child learn that his crayon leaves a red streak when he pushes it against something? Does a deaf child learn that pots and pans crash when struck? Does a child without a sense of touch learn to avoid hazards? Does a child without a developed magical sense learn to affect mana if he does not sense the results? And then, when the child grows up, would he be able to shake that proverbial rattle in his son's face?
	
	The difference here is that we have posited the assumption that manipulating magic is something that must be learned. A child will learn how to see, hear, and feel on his own, because he is capable of influencing his environment in a way he can perceive. Except in rare cases, however, a child will not be able to cause any magical effects on his own to test his magical sense against. Therefore, by the original cycle of decay described, the child's magical sense will atrophy and fade away until he no longer is aware of its existence.
	
	Now, these conclusions may only be drawn for the world that we have created through our suppositions. However, these suppositions create a world much like our own. In a world where magic is more readily available -- for instance, if wild creatures could perform magical feats -- then there might be the possibility that a child would be able to perceive enough magic to keep his magical sense from atrophy, thus invalidating these arguments. But even this might not be sufficient; it might just produce a magical background noise that would simply be blocked out as useless input. The only magical forces at work in our world are the ones wielded by the wizards who have been given the opportunity to learn and possibly that magical background noise from effects generated by non-human sources. Thus, a child would never really have the opportunity to learn magic, even if his parents truly wished him to be able to learn. 
	
V. On the Pervasiveness and Inaccessibility of Magic

	"'Magic is all around us. It flows through us. There is magic wherever there is life. We may claim to control it, but it similarly guides us. We would all be wise to heed magic where it is found.' These are the words of my mentor. He was a wise man. I can't say I always agreed with my mentor, but he was right about many things.
	
	"For indeed, I need only open my eyes to the spiritual world about us to see the effects of magic on everything about me. The delicate strands of light that comprise the astral forms of every living being are testament to the truth about the ever-present nature of magic. It really is there whether we realize it or not."

	Therefore, if the typical member of humanity lacks the capacity to sense mana in its forms, it is entirely possible that mana flows freely through our world like air, similarly invisible. Such a scenario would provide a bountiful energy source, available to the wizard who knows how to tap it. In one possibility, this resource cannot be directly manipulated, at least in worlds resembling our own, or else wizards would have no need to gather it and replenish their own energy. In another possibility, it may just be simpler to gather it and then use that store, or it may be more powerful, by having more energy concentrated where it may be used. In either scenario, a wizard would need to gather energy or face losing the wherewithal to use magic until he can. In other worlds, more abundantly available ambient mana may allow much freer use of magic.
	
	This distinction, however, is counter to the idea of a unifying theory of magic, so allow me to propose an reconciling explanation. In any world where mana exists at all, it is readily available, whether in its natural form or through conversion from another form of energy. (Worlds without any mana are irrelevant to this discussion because magic would be completely impossible in such a world.) However, to account for the variance in difficulty in the use of magic from world to world, there must be some sort of mitigating force that makes magic use more difficult in some worlds.
	
	Borrowing from theories posited by other wizards in other tomes and studies, then, I will propose one possible mitigating force. Magic is not INHERENTLY more difficult to use in any one world than another. However, the belief of an individual that magic is impossible or does not exist actually produces an unfocused field in which that belief is true, through unconscious use of magic itself. The individual does not need to know that he is causing this effect, and indeed, it is most likely that he will be completely unaware of it because he does not understand how to sense mana. More generally, the effect is to enforce what the individual DOES believe. Science has observed principles that have been collectively dubbed the laws of physics, but no science has ever explained WHY these laws are true.

	I hereby propose that the belief by the general collective of humankind in their understanding of how the world works MAKES the world work in that way and prevents things from working in other ways. Thus, a wizard who would wish to use magic in the presence of this blanketing inertia of belief must first defeat this inertia in order to cause any other magical effects. This explains why magic is more difficult to use in these worlds, while in other worlds magic flows like water. But in a place free from the influence of others, a wizard who understands that physical laws are a mere illusion has essentially free reign over his magic.
	
	But even the conscious realization of the illusion may not be enough for the wizard who has lived his entire life in a world where magic is difficult to use. The wizard's subconscious influences, even, may impede his access to the power of mana. To try to circumvent this difficulty, many -- indeed, most -- traditions of wizardry have symbols, rituals, and focuses that help the wizard achieve the mental state of total belief in magic by creating a machination through which the wizard may believe that reality can be denied. As the wizard becomes more accustomed to using magic, his inner disbelief will gradually fade as his own senses prove to him that his own magic is real, reducing his reliance on those symbols, rituals, or focuses. Ultimately, the most powerful of wizards are those who have managed to pierce the veil of illusion and glean a true understanding about the nature of the world. (Credit goes to White Wolf for concepts borrowed in this section.)
	
VI. On the Mechanics of Mana

	"I drew some of the ethereal magic-stuff from the astral plane and rolled the fluid around between my fingers as I prepared the spell that would transform the liquid energy in my hands into some powerful magical effect or another. I knew that this little bit of light flowing around on my palm, transient as a breath of air, contained enough power to destroy a small house or revitalize a towering oak, depending on what I wanted to do with it.
	
	"Right now, though, my attention was turned to the stream of water in front of me. The stench of rotting fish filled the air, since the water was so poisonous that even aquatic life could not survive it. I knelt down on the banks and blew across the mana in my hands. The magical liquid in my hands turned the color of purest gold as I poured it into the water.
	
	"The stream shone with a brilliant light as the magic spread across the ripples and eddies of the water. I stood up and admired my handiwork... This magic would flow downstream with the current, purifying the taint that the wicked spirits had cursed upon it. I knew my magic would bring life and happiness to the villages that relied upon these waters for survival.
	
	"I also knew that the people of these villages would likely never know who it was that brought their salvation, but I was okay with that, as long as they could live on."

	Setting aside the discussion of magical metaphysics, let us turn to the analysis of magical physics. Most magic has defined effects, so it would seem reasonable that predictive formulae might exist to describe these effects in a scientific manner. Just as you can cause a mass to accelerate by applying a force, and the relationship is described by the function F=ma, there may be a similar formula relating the causes applied by mana to their effects. Similarly, the mundane equation E=mc^2 describes a relationship between energy and mass, there may be a similar relationship describing a conversion between mana and matter.

	And actually, if the magical Law of Similarity is held to be true, then this not only MAY be, but it MUST be. If magic is to resemble mundane behavior, then it must be able to be described by formulae in a manner similar to the description of mundane phenomena. Just as normal energy comes in various forms, like heat, light, x-ray, kinetic, chemical, and so forth, so must mana have various forms -- some of them corresponding to similar forms of normal energy but not necessarily restricted to a one-to-one correspondence. And since mass and the various forms of energy interact together to cause various physical effects, the various forms of mana can interact together to cause magical effects.
	
	As an example, let us consider the modern automobile. A spark plug is powered with electrical energy, which causes a spark of heat energy, which ignites aerated gasoline. The explosion forces the piston downward with translational kinetic energy, which turns a crankshaft with rotational kinetic energy. The crankshaft turns things that turn things that turn the axles that turn the wheels in a transfer of this energy. This rotation then interacts with the interface between wheel and road in the form of friction to produce an accelerating force of translational kinetic energy. Meanwhile, the alternator is also spun to produce electrical energy that is used to recharge the battery's potential chemical energy. The harmony of the vehicle comes in the many different kinds of energy transforming and interacting with various kinds of mass to produce different kinds of forces.
	
	Let us take a magical example next. Let us consider, hypothetically, a fireball. Certainly, there is no common agreement among traditions on the proper method of creating a fireball, so I shall describe the mechanics used by one particular tradition of elemental wizards. In this process, a wizard taps his magical potential energy to project magical kinetic energy forward and gives that energy substance by converting some amount of it to matter and the rest of it to fire energy. Then, the wizard seeds the fireball with wind energy to cause it to explode in a burst of normal kinetic energy upon reaching its intended destination. Afterward, the wizard takes in ambient magical energy, usually from the Earth but some sects draw it from the chemical energy in their own bodies, and adds it back to his own stores of magical potential energy, either right away or during his studies or sleep.
		
	By breaking a task, whether physical or magical, down into component steps, we may study the transfer of energy that causes the effect desired by the wizard. The exact materials needed to exert the influences necessary to control the flow of mana may not be immediately apparent, but many traditions of wizards have demonstrated that willpower is sufficient to perform the task. Other traditions have demanded more, such as bits of various materials or body gestures or magic words. Some of these traditions state that the components are inherently magical; others claim that they are merely creating channels for mana to flow through to produce a desired effect. The latter seems likely, and if it is true, then the human body may have an organ -- likely the brain in all of its infinite mysteries -- that can affect the flow of mana by adjusting its state. If it is indeed the brain, then neurotransmitters and electrical impulses are among the domain of things that affect mana, and the exertion of willpower is the mechanism by which these components align themselves to the effect.
		
	In any event, the nature of HOW the human body can affect the flow of mana is outside the scope of this treatise; the important matter is that it simply can. [EDITOR'S NOTE: I believe that this mechanism is indeed within the scope of this treatise and the author has simply omitted it to hide his lack of knowledge on the subject. Then again, it would be expecting too much to expect any one individual to produce a complete explanation of the workings of the human brain through simple analysis when scientific research has been unable to produce such an explanation for centuries.] Thus, a wizard who understands the sequence of individual steps can simply will the process from step to step to accomplish his goal. Furthermore, as can be done in mathematics and science, if the output of one step is the input of another step, then the steps can be mentally skipped as long as all of the necessary components and catalysts are present. It may require a greater input of energy to do so, but it is surely possible, as evidenced by the fact that some schools of magic produce dramatic effects with nothing but willpower.
	
	Furthermore, the fact that the human body can affect the flow of mana explains my previous point concerning the suppression of magic through disbelief. The configuration of the body reinforces the person's desires, and the person's desires have an effect on the flow of mana. [EDITOR'S NOTE: I think the author skipped a step. Maybe this works for him, but "all of the necessary components and catalysts" are not present for his readers to necessarily follow his logic.] It is not essential to understand magic to affect magic. This also is evidenced in the popularity of lucky charms and the like; very often, these lucky charms are objects that alter the flow of mana in ways that happen to be beneficial to the bearer. (I will go into more detail about these objects in the next section.) Furthermore, even primitive magical traditions have been observed to have definite effects, although the practitioners of these arts most likely do not understand why magic behaves in the way it does. [EDITOR'S NOTE: Indeed, if the author claims to be the first to think of this theory, I am sure he has the ego to believe that no one else in history has understood magic.]

VII. On Persistent Magical Constructs

	"A familiar twinge of fear spread through my body as I mumbled the magic words and performed the arcane gestures that corresponded to the transportation spell that I was casting. My eyes were closed, but I knew that if I opened them, I would see the world fading into an ethereal shadow around me, and anyone outside would see me fade into invisibility. My body was being transformed.
	
	"I had just cast a spell of etherealness that drew my body and my possessions physically into the ethereal plane. I was now composed of the very stuff of magic that I normally called upon and shaped to my whim to cast other spells. Like this, I would be subject to the whims of magic, but the constraints of the physical world would have no effect on me, and that was my desire."

	There is a duality between energy and matter in the mundane world corresponding to the equation E=mc^2. In constructing my theory, I have found it necessary to define an equivalent form of "matter" to correspond to mana. It turns out that such a construct is found in many traditions, referred to as spirits or astral constructs or other such things. Now, I will postpone my discussion of this so-called astral space, and the spirits that reside within it, for a later section, but for the time being, presume that there is such a side of reality that cannot be perceived or consciously interacted with using unaided, mundane devices. (I will later demonstrate that this astral space is merely an illusion, albeit a convenient one for most discussion.) [EDITOR'S NOTE: I must confess that I nearly put down the paper at this point, but he does an adequate job of defending his position in section VIII, On Spirits and the Astral Plane.]
	
	If mana can influence "real" objects, and "real" objects can influence mana, and "real" energy and "real" matter can interact, then analogously, by the Law of Similarity, there ought to be some sort of corresponding object to balance mana and complete the relation. Unfortunately, I have not found any convenient terms for such an object since I have not found any tradition in my studies that has a general concept for all such "astral" objects. Therefore, I will coin the term "paraform" to refer to all objects of this nature.
	
	These paraforms have the ability to alter, deflect, and transform mana that passes through or across them. Some of these paraforms are analogous to lenses, prisms, and mirrors; others are analogous to simple machines; others still are analogous to more complex apparatuses. Some are analogous to living beings, but I will defer further discussion of this particular variety of paraform for the next section.
	
	These paraforms can be brought about through a variety of means. There are some inherently magical processes, such as conception, that bring about the synthesis of new paraforms. (This example, by the way, is likely part of why sexual contact is considered to be a powerful source of magic in some traditions, although I personally find the concept of exploiting this kind of magic to be distasteful and unethical. Ethics and taste, however, have no place in a discussion on mechanics, and thus I will omit discussion upon them.) They can also be created by converting mana energy into paraform mass, in a manner analogous to the theoretically possible method suggested by the equation E=mc^2, albeit in a much easier fashion. The easiest method, of course, is to simply alter existing paraforms into new forms, but this cannot precisely be called bringing about the existence of a paraform.
	
	The ability to apparently produce a paraform spontaneously, as in the example of conception, raises the question about whether mana energy and paraform mass are conserved in a manner analogous to the conservation of normal mass and energy. I believe that there has been insufficient research done in the field to be able to definitively say one way or the other if this is so, but the magical Law of Similarity would indicate that it is. If it is, then there must be a source of ambient mana analogous to the sun (or possibly the sun itself) that provides the system with new energy.
	
	In any event, some applications of paraforms can be found in section IX, On Gestures, Magic Words, and Magical Components and in section XI, On Curses and Enchantments.

VIII. On Spirits and the Astral Plane

	"Quib drew a circle on the ground with a stick and stood just outside of it, his small voice speaking words in the magical language of the earth spirits. I couldn't understand the words he was saying, but I knew that they were a request for a spirit to come to his aid. And if I knew the little Windling's style, he was being very polite about it. He treated spirits differently than many spellcasters... He treated them with respect, as equals doing favors instead of as a master commanding a bonded slave.
	
	"It wasn't long before a powerful, heavy presence made itself felt. I recognized it as the sign of an earth spirit's presence. Quib asked the spirit a question, and the figure of a dwarf rose up from the ground inside the circle. The elementalist shook his head and smiled, saying something else, and the spirit's manifestation smoothed out and sunk down until it just looked like a mound in the earth, constrained by the circle.
	
	"I knew what Quib was doing. He was asking the spirit to manifest, and then he was granting it leave to take whatever form it was comfortable in. It was his standard practice when interacting with spirits, and from the results he tended to get, it gave him a rather good reputation among the spirit communities. He never demanded, only asked. Coming to think about it, he treats everyone with that same respect. Makes him a rather endearing little man; I can't help but smile when he's around."

	As I begin my discussion on spirits and the Astral Plane, I must confess that I am not a scholar of planar geography, nor was my tradition of upbringing one that called upon any sort of spirit. However, if my discussion of magic is to span worlds, then it must account for both worlds with spirits and alternate planes and those without.
	
[EDITOR'S NOTE: The author's mind is not open enough to realize that there are worlds that have physics and magics that are completely unrelated to our own. In some worlds, for instance, there is no gravity, but linovection instead provides a constant downward force, making an absolute up and down in the universe instead of a relative up or down from a given reference plane. (Credit goes to Unicorn Jelly.) Similarly, I think the author is being short-sighted to believe that his theory applies to absolutely every possible set of magical mechanics.]

	Spirits, as I briefly mentioned in the previous section, are paraforms that are analogous to living beings. They interact with mana as living creatures interact with normal energy, and they interact with other paraforms in the same manner that living creatures interact with normal matter. And in fact, living things have corresponding paraforms that many people call the "spirit" or the "soul," with more sentient creatures having correspondingly more complex paraforms. This conveniently ameliorates the ancient philosophical question about where in the body the spirit lies -- the answer is that it does not lie within any physical part of the body, but rather in the paraform that corresponds to the body.
	
	There is an interesting quirk about living paraforms, however. While nonliving paraforms and objects are not required to have a corresponding counterpart, living physical beings must have corresponding paraforms -- although the paraform for, say, an insect may be of such insignificant nature as to be invisible to traditions who do not expect its presence. Other traditions may recognize the presence of such paraforms but not classify them as spirits. Other traditions still may fail to see the paraforms inside any living creature, with the physical form obscuring the paraform in their sights. By contrast, however, living paraforms are not required to have corresponding physical components. This has led many wizards to the conclusion that such "spirits" or "ghosts" are not actually living, but merely an animated, non-living construct. The definition of life and non-life, however, is a philosophical consideration, not a magical consideration, and as such is outside the scope of this document. [EDITOR'S NOTE: The author seems to like that phrase.]
	
	I realize that my next point will be hotly controversial, but please bear with me. I argue that the so-called "astral space" described in countless traditions is actually an illusion. That which is perceived to be astral space is simply the perception of paraforms as if they were physical objects and, in some traditions, of physical objects as if they were paraforms. The precise nature in which astral space appears to the viewer is largely dependent on the expectations of said viewer, in a manner that the viewer has been trained to view astral space. Thus, wizards of two independent traditions "astrally" viewing the same region of space may see different representations of the same objects and paraforms. Wizards of the Earthdawn traditions, for example, see paraforms as a complex lattice of energy called a Pattern, while wizards of the Greyhawk and Toril traditions see paraforms as if they were normal, corporeal beings. (I should point out that the Greyhawk and Toril traditions, among others, refer to this as the Ethereal Plane, and the Toril tradition makes a distinction between types of paraforms and calls the space in which the other variety dwells the Plane of Shadow. The Astral Plane in these traditions is not an astral plane in the sense that I am discussing here.)
	
	I would propose that the most honest view of this so-called "astral space" would be one in which the wizard perceives mana as if it were normal energy, producing an image from the mana reflected off of paraforms just as the eye of a human produces an image from the light reflected off of normal objects. An image perceived in such a manner would give the most picture-perfect image of the paraforms in the area, although admittedly this method would fail to perceive paraforms that are transparent to mana or objects hidden in places without ambient mana to illuminate them. My theory is that this effect is why the astral sensing techniques of many traditions involve first sending out mana, much like an astral flashlight or magical sonar.

	I will note that just because the astral plane is an illusion does not mean that other planes of existence are also necessarily illusions. Elemental planes, for instance, are found in many cosmologies, and it does not seem likely that there are so many different layers of illusion coexisting in a single plane in such a fashion that they would never be seen concurrently by anyone or anything. Traditions of magic that claim to draw power from elemental planes are most likely doing just that. Interplanar travel, then, may be possible in many cosmologies, but only in such cosmologies where some mechanism exists to transfer an object or a paraform from plane to plane. [EDITOR'S NOTE: That is rather redundant... That is like saying that it is possible to get from Chicago to New York, but only if there is a way to get from Chicago to New York.]
	
	Nevertheless, it is still convenient to refer to astral space, especially in discussion, as a coexistent plane of existence in which paraforms exist. It is a simpler concept for the mind to grasp, and it reduces the need for special terminology (such as the term "paraform" that I myself have coined) to describe those beings and objects that exist as paraforms. It allows discussion of a "spirit world" that exists alongside our own, and it opens up the possibility of "astral travel" in which a traveler converts his physical body into a paraform or collapses it into a part of his paraform while perceiving the process to be transferring his body into what he believes to be the astral plane.
	
	I will also note in this section that deific power is not magic. Not all supernatural phenomena are magical (and not all magical phenomena are supernatural). A properly omnipotent and omniscient deity could, of course, use and affect magic as he sees fit, but he could also produce effects that defy explanation or classification, including gross violations of all known laws of physics and magic. It is futile to try to limit or classify an omnipotent being's power because such a being would, by definition, be capable of defying any mortal-spun definition. Thus, the potential for a sort of "divine magic" granted to mortals by a deity would not necessarily be bound to this theory of magic because it springs from an omnipotent, intelligent source instead of from magic as practiced in the traditions that I am attempting to unify.
	
	However, the method of magic in which spirits are summoned and/or bound to do the bidding of a wizard (or even a non-wizard who understands how to negotiate with spirits) is well within the boundaries of my theory. Working with spirits could be as simple and non-magical as a verbal request for a nearby spirit to manifest or it could be a complex series of rituals that draws a spirit in and binds it to a certain area. Both methods can be achieved without breaking this unifying theory. What follows next depends on the spirit. If the spirit is a normal paraform, as described here, the spirit can manipulate mana and other paraforms to produce magical effects like any wizard could. If the spirit is deific or has some other sort of limited omnipotence (I am aware of the oxymoronic contradiction of these two words; use the implied meaning -- please do not overanalyze the actual verbiage), however, then the resulting effect may not be within the bounds of this theory -- but neither will it prove to be a counterexample to my theory. (On the other hand, dealing with such spirits brings up its own interesting dilemmas and hazards, of which those who would summon one are often already aware.)

IX. On Gestures, Magic Words, and Material Components

	"Pardon me, do you have any gray render hair?"

X. On Spells and Rituals

	"In a dark room lit only by six candles spaced evenly around a circle engraved upon the floor, the wizened nethermancer sat crosslegged in the middle of the circle, mumbling arcane words of power. The room pulsed with energy as he gathered power from the spirit realm and organized it into the strict, measured patterns dictated by his spell. It felt like there was a throbbing hum just below the range of hearing reverberating throughout the area.
	
	"The nethermancer's voice rose in intensity as his spell neared completion as he rose to his feet and raised his hands. The echoing hum stilled to silence as he drew the energy into himself. His eyes blazed with power as he finished all but the last step of the ritual... which he would save for later."

	Virtually no magic user in the world works without some sort of spells or rituals to organize his effects. It requires the wizard to mentally juggle too much extraneous information to simply throw together an effective combination of gestures, magic words, material components, magical constructs, and mental states on the fly. Most traditions of wizardry fail to even recognize the ability to produce arbitrary magical effects in this manner. Even the most spontaneous traditions require its wizards to have a finite set of distinctly defined magical effects. Section XVI, On Levels of Abstraction, will expand upon the reasoning and methodology concerning the level of abstraction provided by spells and rituals, but this section will discuss the nature of these sequential constructs.

	As I have already mentioned, coming up with an effective combination of gestures, words, components, constructs, and states is not something that can easily be done in a short amount of time. This is why many wizards spend years on end -- or even their entire lives -- doing nothing but researching spell mechanics to assemble spells that work as well as possible. These spells are a prescribed sequence and combination of these gestures, words, components, constructs, and mental states that produce a defined magical effect. Other wizards only learn these prescriptions for magical effects and do not research the constructions that go into their creation, merely repeating the spells given to them by rote.

	At the core, the distinction between a spell and a ritual tends to be a measure of elaborateness. Spells typically require the wizard to spend no more than a minute -- preferably only a few seconds -- to remember and replay the sequence of events by memory. The spells that are the easiest to cast are often the ones that have been encapsulated in such a way that the spell's caster actually is casting a spell that sets up a sequence of events that triggers a more complex spell. 

XI. On Curses and Enchantments

XII. On Blood Magic and Sacrifice

XIII. On the Significance of Dreams

	"A murky figure lurked in the shadows, its cruel eyes gleaming coldly with a light of their own. No matter how hard I ran, I couldn't seem to make any progress in escaping the evil that pursued me. It was like trying to run against a headwind, or better, upstream against a powerful current. But nothing was holding me back as I ran... I simply was failing to move despite my best efforts.
	
	"I heard the monster creeping up behind me. Its fetid breath smelled rank in my nostrils. Then I saw a light up ahead of me -- an open doorway silhouetted against the soft light coming from inside a safe haven. I redoubled my efforts to run towards the doorway, but the monster stayed right on my tail.
	
	"I reached out to pull myself inside the doorway when I felt a sickening pain pierce through me as the monster's claws penetrated through my lungs. I sank to the ground, crying out soundlessly as I reached for the doorway that would have brought me salvation...
	
	"And then my eyes opened with a start. A few panicked breaths later, the inside of my tent came into focus, illuminated by the soft moonlight. Just a nightmare, I assured myself... Just a nightmare."

	Dreams have long been considered a mysterious realm. While the exact cause, purpose, and nature of dreams are all uncertainties not yet adequately explained by science or magic, there is much documented evidence about phenomena surrounding dreams. Many traditions -- and even many non-wizards -- use dreams as a form of divination. A few traditions even find a way to travel through a dream world to reach other places in the physical world. Obviously, then, dreams can be powerful.
	
	I will not presume to have divined the truth about the cause, purpose, or nature of dreams. [EDITOR'S NOTE: He sure presumed to have divined the truth about most of the other points in this treatise. But I digress; I am being unfairly cynical.] Indeed, I must regretfully state that I cannot positively confirm the points I will make in this section because of the inherently ethereal and unpredictable nature of dreams.
	
	I posit the hypothesis that dreams are influenced by the flow of mana. It stands to reason that, since every action has an equal and opposite reaction, if the human mind can affect the flow of mana through various configurations of the bioelectric field, then the flow of mana can affect the human mind by acting upon those same configurations and their corresponding paraforms. The dreamer need not even be aware of the existence of magic, and may even have an atrophied magical sense, but since this interaction places the dreamer as the object of the effect instead of the cause, it is not necessary for the dreamer to be a wizard.

	Dreams that appear to divine the future fall into two classes. The first class is the "self-fulfulling prophecy," in which the actions taken by the dreamer once he awakens follow a course that serves to ensure that the prediction comes true. This is often a mundane psychological phenomenon, and further discussion on this is in the next section, On Divination.

	The other class is more profound and more accurately referred to as divination. These dreams actually pick up on glimpses of a possible future. Sometimes these are messages endowed by a spirit or another supernatural being; these should be carefully considered to ensure that the prophecy is not a false one implanted by a malevolent being. Other times, the dreamer's mind picks up on the eddies of chaos that indicate the way events may proceed or it may pick up on a parallel universe that corresponds to a future point in the timeline. These methods are described in more detail in the next section, On Divination, as well.
	
	There are entire traditions and even paradigms of magic founded around the concept of dreams. I will describe the foremost of these, the lucid dreaming paradigm, in the Appendix, A.I. On the Lucid Dreaming Paradigm and the Ascension Traditions of Magic, because it is the one other theory I have encountered in my studies that can adequately explain all observed magical phenomena.

XIV. On Divination

	"Today, our Elementalist, Quib LaFrey, cast stones into our campfire and blew into it until they glowed like coals themselves, and then doused the fire with a canteen of water. I sat down beside the small winged man and watched with interest as he frowned in thought, peering at the stones in the darkened fire pit.

	"'What do the stones say?' I asked my companion.

	"'They don't say anything,' answered Quib, "they're just rocks.'

	"'You know what I mean,' I chided, 'What do they mean?'

	"'The way the water collected the ashes together among the rocks is like how the events that we're going to be dealing with over the next few days will be bringing together the remnants of my scattered family together... but the cracks in the stones show that the journey will be rough. None of the rocks broke, though; when the rocks break that's a bad omen,' Quib explained.

	"'A bad omen, you say?' I replied, 'Would a broken stone indicate... that one of us would be broken, too?'

	"The elementalist nodded his blue-haired head solemnly. 'But even that might be preferable to what might have been portented had the water washed the ashes away... That could mean that our mission would bring about nothing but loss.'

	"I sat back and chewed on some trail rations as I contemplated the young man's words. Reclining upon my bedroll, I knew that things would be interesting during the next weeks of my life."

	Divination is a tricky subject to consider, because there are so many problems inherent in the acquisition of knowledge that does not yet exist. Since there are so many different theories about divination -- many of which are not necessarily mutually exclusive -- I will first discuss some of the paradoxes involved in divination, followed by descriptions and analyses of some of the more prevalent theories of divination.
	
	Before I begin this discussion, however, I must point out that this section actually deals with the subset of divination used to understand information about future events. Many other forms of divination exist, for gleaning information about places in the present or past, or for reading the history of an object, or many other such things. These forms of divination are not paradoxical, for the most part, and do not need to bear extensive discussion. The mechanisms by which these forms of divination occur, however, are similar to those for divining things about the future, and thus the mechanisms which I will describe here will largely apply to the other types of divination as well.
	
	The simplest kind of divination is mundane, non-magical prediction. In this method of divination, the diviner -- who does not necessarily have to be a wizard -- looks for signs in the world about him and interprets them in the context of past events, the current situation, and the expected future. If these signs have intrinsic, mundane correlation with the events being divined, the practice is known as statistical analysis or other such names, and it is a widely accepted field of prediction even in the scientific community. If the signs, however, demonstrate no direct mundane correspondence, then the divination is considered to be simple fortune-telling, and it is not guaranteed to be accurate. It is not unusual for the other forms of divination I will describe to be imitated by non-wizards; in such cases, those practices usually fall into this category or the next one I will describe. Tarot reading and other forms of divination that study apparently random outcomes are examples of divinations that fall into this category. The basic theory behind this method of divination is that processes, both mundane and magical, have side effects on the world that can be perceived and interpreted.
	
	Almost as simple, but more magical, is another observational method of divination. This is probably the most commonly used means of divination that involves magic. These methods include astrology and cheiromancy (palmistry), and like the previous type of divination, does not require a wizard to perform. In contrast to the previous type of divination, however, the underlying theory behind this type of divination is that processes, especially magical ones, CAUSE the future to come about in a certain manner, and by studying the source of the processes, one can predict the effects -- in other words, the divination comes from the study of the cause instead of the study of the effect. The absolute truth of this method of divination is under hot debate among both the wizardly and non-wizardly communities, since it implies that free will is an illusion. (I will describe my personal belief on this controversy when I discuss the paradoxes of divination of things to come.)
	
	I have discussed non-magical means of divination from observing signs brought about from magical and mundane processes. Any form of divination that does not involve passive interpretation of signs requires the diviner to be a wizard. The closest form of divination to these passive interpretations is for a wizard to cause a magical effect and then observe how the environment and other magical effects alter the results. This is mostly the same as the first method of divination I described, and as such, I will make no further commentary on it.
	
	Another means of divination is to consult spirits. This tends to be an effective procedure, especially when divining information about the past or present, although as mentioned in my discussion on spirits, negotiating and trusting these spirits may be another story entirely. To provide information about the future, however, these spirits must have that information from another source -- unless the spirit is deific, it too is subject to the flow of time and must glean information about the future through some external means. Of course, spirits have access to the same various means that a wizard can use. As I mentioned in the section entitled On the Significance of Dreams, these sorts of divinations should be carefully analyzed to ensure that the spirit or deific being being consulted is trustworthy; a malevolent spirit may impart a false divination to lure the diviner into a trap.
	
	In cosmologies where every moment in time exists concurrently in alternate universes, divining into the future is a relatively simple task of looking into the alternate universe that corresponds with the appropriate time. Of course, this method of divination is subject to the same causality loop paradox as any other (as I will describe later), unless the world is such that the timeline is relatively fixed -- which implies that free will is only an illusion in these worlds.
	
	In cosmologies where new alternate universes spawn at every point in time where a decision may be made, a similar method of divination may be used to perceive various possible futures. This method is not quite as subject to the causality loop paradox, if the diviner is aware that this method is inherently probabilistic. Of course, the very act of divination in this scenario generates new timelines of possibility.
	
	A method of divination most aptly suited for studying the past is the analysis of chaos. In this method, the diviner observes the motes and swirls in the mana of the area and then, through magical means, reconstructs an image of what kind of events in the past would cause these effects. This method can also be used to divine into the future by studying particles and energy that flow backwards in time from the future -- tachyons, for example -- but this method is highly influenced by Heisenberg's uncertainty principle, which states that the more certain you are about the current state of a system, the less certain you can be about the motion that brought the system into the state, and vice versa. The act of observing disturbs the observed, which means that the divination itself may affect the future being divined. Theoretically, both of these methods could be done technologically, but the sufficient processing technology to analyze that many variables in real-time has yet to be developed. Magic is far more efficient for such analysis.

	There are many other methods of direct divination that I have not documented here; there are almost as many methods of divination as there are traditions of magic. I discussed divination by use of dreaming in the previous section, On the Significance of Dreams. Quite a few of them, however, fall into the deific category, in which a powerful being grants a vision, a parable, or some other type of information to a chosen oracle or prophet, who then often shares the revelation with the people in his society.
	
	Now, no matter how you glean information from the future, there are certain paradoxes that naturally arise. The foremost of these paradoxes is the one in which the knowledge of events to come prevents the events from ever occurring, sometimes referred to as the causality loop paradox. This paradox is most often overlooked because many divinations are performed for the explicit purpose of averting future disaster. The paradox lies in the fact that a correct divination would have shown the future where the disaster did not occur, but then the people involved may not know to avert it, which causes the disaster to occur. The resolution to this paradox is that divinations do not necessarily predict the true future -- merely one future out of the infinitely varied possible futures, most often the one that will come if current events were to continue along their present path.
	
	Another interesting artifact of divination is the case where the divination demonstrates a possible future that is brought about by the observer's attempts to avert that very future. This, combined with the causality loop paradox that has the opposite effect, should be enough reason to take any divination with a grain of salt and a great deal of wisdom in interpretation. Nevertheless, divination will most likely continue to be an important aspect of many traditions of magic as long as men wish to control their own destinies.
	
	A third comment that should be made about divinations is that they are often self-fulfilling -- that is, the act of divination will often itself be an influence in producing the predicted results. Sometimes this is a magical side-effect of the method of divination, but more often, it is simply a psychological effect that causes the observer of the divination to act in a way consistent with the divination. There are also self-defeating divinations that, through the same mechanisms, cause the observer to act in a manner contrary to the divination.

XV. On Metamagic

	"I called upon the power of my magic to form into a spear, and then I increased its power beyond its normal level. I flung the lance of energy at my opponent, intending to strike him down where he stood. Unexpectedly, though, the lance splashed into nothingness halfway through its flight. My enemy leered at me in contempt of my attack, his satisfied sneer grating upon my nerves.
	
	"But what happened to my spell? It was met with counter magic. Magic does not simply affect the physical world... Magic can also affect magic itself. The simple empowering that I had used is one example of this concept known as 'metamagic,' or magic on the next level of magic. The countering spell that my foe had used is another example.
	
	"So what did this mean for me at that time? It meant that I had just wasted valuable resources in casting a spell that had no effect... and now my enemy was preparing to cast his spell. I gripped my staff tightly and prepared for the worst."
	
	Metamagic is a natural outgrowth of any serious ponderings upon the nature and workings of magic. It is the logical conclusion that arises from the question of whether or not magic can be used to affect magic itself. The answer, obviously, is that it can, and thus the field of metamagic was developed, independently by countless traditions of magic, so that there are nearly as many different theories of metamagic as there are theories of magic as a whole. 

	In a sense, the gathering of mana performed by most traditions of wizards is metamagic, because it is a magical effect intended to power other magical effects. In a similar fashion, the actual process of performing magic is metamagic, since it is a sequence of magical effects that cause another magical effect. And while these subjects may be fruitful discussions in their own right, they are typically considered to be fundamental enough actions that they are omitted from discussions on metamagic.
	
	The simplest form of metamagic is the counter-force method of countering magical effects. In this method, a magical effect can be nullified by applying either an exactly opposite force in the same place or an exactly equal force in the opposite direction. Both of these work along principles well-documented by science; forces in equal magnitude and opposite alignment acting upon the same object cancel each other out. The interesting thing about the counter-force method of countering magical effects is that it will typically work even if one of the spells has been altered with other metamagics, unless these metamagics are oriented for the purpose of making the effect more difficult to counter. This is likely because the central force of the effect is countered, leaving only the metamagic modifications to pass through. These modifications, however, have no real effect if they have no magic to modify. This effect, too, has been observed in mundane science; if two waves are interfering with each other and a third wave of opposite amplitude to one of the other two waves is introduced, the waveforms will subtract, leaving only the wave that was not interfered with.

	Many traditions also provide a more generic mechanism to counter magical effects. In some traditions, this is also the same mechanism used to dispel (that is, remove; I will detail this in a moment) or negate (which I will also describe shortly) magical effects. In my observations, most of these more generic counter-magic effects fall into three categories. The first category is the most indiscriminate; these function by simply destroying the paraforms that control the mana that powers the effect. Without the paraforms, the mana simply dissipates -- usually harmlessly, though there are exceptions. The second category is more discriminating; these function by interrupting the flow of mana at some point in the process, usually at or near the source. These work best on transient effects; long-term effects will often resume when the interruption is removed. The third category is the most complex, but also the most precise; these function by adapting to the particular effect that must be countered and neutralizing it through a more focused variant on the other two methods. In truth, all three of these forms of countering magic have their uses in a wizard's repertoire.
	
	Dispelling persistent magical effects is often done with mechanisms similar to the first and third categories of countering magic. Destroying the paraforms that maintain the unwanted effect typically will end the effect, although it is conceivable that a particularly complex effect might include mechanisms for self-preservation. Even these, however, can be dispelled with a powerful enough paraform-destroying effect. In many cases, however, destruction is not necessary; most effects that are considered to be of negligible or transient importance by the wizard who created them can be dispelled simply by upsetting the equilibrium of the paraforms used to maintain the effect. Thus, even destroying or moving a single paraform in the structure may be sufficient to disrupt an effect. Naturally, this is often easier said than done; some paraforms are quite resilient and require a great deal of effort to destroy, and stable magical constructs are often in an equilibrium that comes with a great deal of inertia that must be overcome to push a piece out of alignment.
	
	Negating persistent magical effects is similar to dispelling them, but the mechanisms tend to resemble the second category of general magic countering or the counter-force method. Negating an effect is accomplished by setting up an opposite effect in the same place, thus balancing out both effects to create a null result. Alternatively, the opposite energy flow can be sent through the paraforms used to maintain the effect, interfering with the operation of the effect, to achieve the same negating result. If the effect being negated ends on its own before the negating effect does, then the negating effect -- if it was of the balancing opposites variety of negation -- will still be in effect, continuing to produce the opposite effects of the effect it was negating. Negating tends to be the easiest method of nullifying magical effects because it simply lets natural laws take their course in the presence of two opposite forces.

XVI. On Levels of Abstraction

	Now obviously, not every tradition of wizardry claims to function in precisely the manner I have described here. I have briefly discussed how some traditions work under my theory in the other sections in this treatise, but I shall here discuss the matter in a little more depth.

XVII. On a Purer Tradition of Wizardry

[EDITOR'S NOTE: Here the author descends into a discussion of his own idealized concept of spellcraft and magery. I feel that I should reiterate my previous disclaimer concerning the accuracy of this treatise: The contents of this article are the author's own opinions. I do not necessarily agree that the tradition that he describes here is any more pure than any of the so-called "primitive" traditions he decries. Still, his proposed tradition does appear that it might be feasible, especially in light of his beliefs about the nature of mana and magic. If it does indeed work, I would not take it as proof that the reasoning behind its creation is necessarily correct -- merely correct enough that a tradition founded on it is functional.]

	In light of the various conclusions I have drawn thus far, then, I have taken the liberty of deriving my own magical tradition, which I intend to pursue and instruct to my pupils. I believe that only by whittling down all the extraneous trappings and drawing out the pure essence of the workings of magic can one truly rise above the hindrances of other, more primitive traditions. Therefore, in my tradition, I shall begin by instructing my students in the most base workings of magic.
	
	Just as instruction in mathematics must begin with learning the numbers, so must instruction in magic begin with learning the atomic means of manipulating mana. A student must learn how to sense the flow of mana in the world, and then he must learn what objects, what movements, and what mindsets produce the channels for mana to flow through in desired ways. In fact, since willpower is not the only possible means of diverting the flow of mana energy, the students will most likely need to learn what other means there are to do so first. Then, with such objects having been duly learned, the young wizard in training may, through simple arrangement of these components, produce a magical effect without needing to have developed his mental discipline fully.
	
	This is, of course, not to say that mental discipline is unnecessary. A student will then begin to learn how to copy the effects of each of these objects through his mental state, meanwhile learning the basic constructs: first energy, matter, and force. Throughout the student's training, these three basic constructs will be subdivided down into smaller, more specialized concepts that can be assembled into a more finely-tailored magical effect. These concepts will then be reassembled into more general constructs that can be thrown together for gross effects while still leaving the resolution of finer concepts available to fine-tune an effect.
	
	For the sake of efficiency in producing these effects, a fully-trained wizard may still employ objects and movements to reduce the amount of mental effort required to produce a given effect, and he may even provide mundane components, such as gasoline in a fire spell, to allow physical, non-magical laws to assist in the effect. Through full mastery of the steps involved, however, such a wizard is unbound by these components and can produce any magical effect he desires simply through his will alone. A wizard should not be able to be made powerless simply by removing material objects from his possession.
	
	My only fear in developing this tradition is that my students may become disillusioned by a lack of visible results in the early stages of instruction and slow progress in the time when the foundations are being taught. I understand that these can be frustrating to a young learner, but I insist that through this knowledge and discipline that a stronger, more flexible magic may be made available.

Appendix A: On Other Theories of Magic

A. I. On the Lucid Dreaming Paradigm and the Ascension Traditions of Magic

	In my studies, the one other theory of magic that I found that could possibly account for all magical phenomena that have been observed is the theory of lucid dreaming. In short, this theory states that the world we perceive is an illusion -- merely a dream -- and that once one realizes for himself that this is true, one can bend the illusion to suit his fancy. This concept has been popularized in the recent film series, "The Matrix," where the main character, Neo, acquires such fantastic powers as the ability to dodge bullets, fly, or fight with deadly skill with minimal training.
	
	To delve into a little more detail, this theory implies that magic is only an illusion, but no more (and no less) of an illusion than the world in which it is used. (I explicitly use the term implies because the lucid dreaming theory has several different traditions following it, and they do not all have the same opinions on the details.) The answer is found in understanding and believing the truth about the illusory nature of the world.
	
	In the lucid dreaming paradigm, other traditions of magic function because their followers believe that, through the rituals and trappings of their traditions, the workings of the world can be manipulated. They may not understand that the world is an illusion but they understand that the laws of the world can be bent or broken, and the paraphernalia and rituals associated with their traditions help them achieve the necessary state of belief to make the magic work.
	
	It is a meta-metaphysical discussion (that is, on a level even farther removed than metaphysical discussion) to argue about which theory, lucid dreaming or my own mana theory, is correct, because each can be expressed in terms of the other. Each theory adequately encompasses all magical phenomena accounted for by the other. By the lucid dreaming paradigm, if belief in mana and paraforms is sufficient to bring about a properly open mindset, then that belief will permit the user to rise above the illusion of the material world. By my mana theory of magic, the mindset and belief of lucid dreaming is such that the user is capable of channeling mana and altering the natures and states of paraforms in such a way that magical effects can be produced.
	
	The necessary assumptions to the lucid dreaming paradigm are many. Primarily, the paradigm assumes that the world is indeed an illusion, whether as an image in the mind of some great dreamer or as a shared hallucination among every individual in the world. Then, depending on which variation of the paradigm you accept, this implies the assumption that there is a great dreamer, or that it is possible for all of the dreamers in the world share a common dream world, or that every individual one meets is only a mere figment of the imagination of the one dreaming. Blaise Pascal wrote a marvelous treatise on the existence of being and the possibility of the world being an illusion -- I recommend that any individual interested in such theories read his work.
	
	Occam's Razor states that, if two theories both sufficiently explain a phenomenon, "all other things being equal, the simpler one is to be preferred." (Credit to Wikipedia for the quote.) However, I do not believe that either of the two theories is any more inherently simple than the other. Certainly both theories require some rather imaginative assumptions about the nature of the world and the nature of magic. I have attempted to defend my assumptions over the course of this document, but I am willing to concede the possibility of truth to the lucid dreaming paradigm. Admittedly my theory requires more words than the lucid dreaming paradigm to adequately express, but ultimately the relative "correctness" of one theory of the other is not subject to evaluation by Occam's Razor.
	
	Finally, I include the Ascension traditions of magic in this section because they closely resemble the lucid dreaming paradigm of magic. The primary difference between the Ascension traditions and the lucid dreaming paradigm is that the Ascension traditions do not necessarily posit the world to be an illusion. However, since the Ascension traditions fail to provide any mechanics for the actual workings of magic -- and since they fail to be general enough to account for traditions of magic that do not suffer from their drawbacks -- I do not consider them to be a suitably encompassing theory of magic upon which to present any extent of discourse.

A. II. On the Shardian Tissue Theory

	I heard one very interesting idea for magic in my research that I had never heard before. This idea stated that a wizard would grow tissues and possibly even organs in his body that would be used to control the flow of magic. This might cause a powerful wizard to have the appearance of being fat if he developed a large amount of tissue, but it would give the wizard a mechanism through which his body could control magic.
	
	I find this theory rather interesting, but I will point out that my theory accounts for this possibility. I have already posited that the human body is capable of altering the flow of mana; it should not be surprising that a wizard could use magic to create structures in his body to enhance that capability. The tissue theory further describes that a wizard could choose to grow these tissues in manners specialized to the production of a particular magical effect, giving him, in essence, a selection of spells from which he may choose. 
	
	The Shardian theory also discussed genetic engineering of these tissues; this could possibly be a gateway for a "normal" mundane to acquire the ability to use magic. I can see that there might be problems, at least initially, with getting the body to accept these tissues and learning how to use them, but then again magic was never said to be a simple manner to learn. In another variant of this technique, a genetically engineered wizard might gradually grow these tissues over the course of his life, which would make an elderly wizard truly an effective magic user, but it might limit a wizard's overall repertoire of effects.
	
	By extension of this theory, a wizard could acquire similar constructs in the paraform of his spirit that could have similar effects. In fact, I would venture that both methods could be applied to give a wizard a vast array of powers in his body and spirit. Furthermore, in combination with other concepts that I have discussed in my treatise, these could be further refined so that a given tissue or paraform construct would be able to channel one small effect very efficiently, and then the wizard could apply a combination of these tissues or constructs in sequence or in concert to produce a more complex magical effect. I find this theory fascinating, and although I have not encountered any traditions that employ this method of wizardry, I believe that it could be a feasible manner of promoting and enhancing the use of magic, even in wizards of other traditions.

Appendix B: On Particular Constructs and Methodologies

	In this appendix, I shall accumulate a number of ideas and tidbits that I found particularly interesting or useful in my study but that did not necessarily fit in any section in the primary treatise.
	
B. I. On Nuclear Power and the Conservation of Mass and Energy

	"But it's a really awesome spell. In theory. See, first you've got to split an atom by focusing your willpower into --" (Black Mage, 8-Bit Theatre)
	
	"Everything has to come from somewhere. Everything has to go somewhere. You can't get something from nothing, and you can't turn something into nothing. It doesn't matter if you incinerated it or disintegrated it, boy, but that grimoire didn't just disappear on its own! And unless you animated it, it didn't sprout legs and walk off, either!"

	Since most skilled wizards know how to convert normal energy into mana energy through some process or another (whether conscious of this ability or not), it should be expected, then, that a wizard who understands this fact should search for convenient, abundant sources of normal energy to tap when he needs to manifest a magical effect that needs a particularly large amount of power to accomplish. Mundane science has, in the last century, explored many energy sources, even tapping the atom itself for power.
	
	It is well within the realm of a wizard's skill to split an atom through the use of magic, or possibly to fuse two atoms. If the wizard then taps into the energy produced, he can convert it into mana for later storage or immediate use. However, as an interesting matter of consideration, suppose that a wizard were to create fissionable or fusionable material out of mana. It is, after all, obviously possible to create matter out of mana, because many traditions of magic document methods to produce such effects. What happens, though, if the wizard were to tap this material for nuclear power and then apply the resulting power to the creation of more fissionable or fusionable material?
	
	It seems absurd, in light of the mundane Law of Conservation of Mass and Energy. We should seek a reasonable mechanism that will show that this supposed method of generating unlimited energy actually produces no more than break-even energy if we are to uphold this well-documented scientific law. If no such arguments may be found, then we may suppose that magic holds the key to bypassing this physical law.
	
	I am personally unable to verify this mechanism, but I shall present it as an experiment for wizards of sufficient skill to attempt in the future. [EDITOR'S NOTE: Mr. High-and-Mighty wizard author here confesses he has a shortcoming. Will wonders never cease?] Let us presume a perfect scenario, in which no energy is wasted in any of the conversion processes and no energy escapes the system. In order for this process to provide break-even energy, then, the amount of mana necessary to produce the fissionable material plus the amount of mana necessary to seed the nuclear reaction must be precisely equivalent to the energy output of the nuclear process. As an experiment, then, the experimenter shall calibrate a system to record the efficiency of each step of the process and then produce a calibrated amount of nuclear fuel material, induce a reaction through a process that uses a known amount of mana energy, and measure the energy output of the nuclear reaction. I hypothesize that the energy output would be at most the break-even energy (that is, the sum of the energy necessary to produce the material and the energy necessary to induce the reaction) multiplied by a fractional efficiency coefficient calculated in the calibration of the experiment. I look forward to hearing the results of this experiment should any other wizard choose to undertake the research.

	Since the conversion of mana into paraforms and normal matter is a relatively simple process for a skilled wizard, I hypothesize that the analogous operation to splitting or fusing atoms in paraform matter may not produce enough energy to warrant the seeding cost. I believe it may be worthwhile, however, to perform experiments along this vein. Further research and experimentation may allow wizards to empirically determine the equivalence relation between paraform mass and mana energy, and from there, possibly the equivalence relation between mana energy and normal energy. As an aside, I believe that the same experimental setup will work for this scenario, although the paraform analogue to fissionable or fusionable material would first have to be discovered. Still, if such an analogue is found, it may be usable in a process more efficient and cleaner than modern nuclear power. [EDITOR'S NOTE: Or we may end up with astral toxic waste.]
	
B. II. On the Use of Mind-Altering Drugs and Altered Mental States

	"Dude, you've got to try some of this stuff, man. This stuff's the greatest, man. It doesn't just get you high, man, it gets you far out. And I don't mean just out of this world, man, I mean you're going ASTRAL, man. It's, like, speed for mages, man. Come on, dude, try a little bit. It won't hurt you as long as you don't do something stupid, man."

	There have been a few traditions of magic over the course of history that have promoted the use of mind-altering drugs by their wizards. Most of these traditions have considered such drugs, especially hallucinogenics, to be a gateway for the opening of the mind. Now, normally such drugs are considered harmful or impairing by modern cultures, but the success of many of these traditions indicates that some of these drugs are, at the least, noninhibiting to the use of magic, and some are possibly beneficial.
	
	Some traditions also seek other, non-chemical methods of achieving an altered mental state to accomplish the same purpose. Hypnosis is common, including autohypnosis (that is, hypnotizing oneself), but sleep deprivation, low-frequency sound waves, and other methods, including some magical ones, have been used. The end result is that the recipient is placed in an altered mental state of some sort or another, with the intent of improving the subject's ability to use magic.
	
	I was puzzled by this phenomenon, considering the adverse effects many of these drugs and techniques have on mundane performance. Certainly I would not want someone in an altered mental state operating machinery; my original expectation was that I would similarly not want someone in an altered state operating magic. The evidence, however, contradicted my expectations.
	
	It seems that many altered mental states reorganize the subject's consciousness in such a way that it both inhibits the subject's resistance to magic use and, in some cases, enhances magic capacity by opening up additional channels for mana. Of course, there are also other altered mental states that reorganize the subject's consciousness in other, less productive ways, but naturally these states fall out of use in magical consideration except, possibly, as inhibiting techniques to restrain magic users.
	
	I will not present here a list of the drugs and techniques that induce altered mental states. Many if not most of the drugs are restricted or illegal, and I would not wish to be held liable for any accidents, crimes, or other incidents brought about by someone under the influence of any drug or technique acquired as a result of this appendix.

B. III. On Alchemy

	"The alkahest -- the elixir formed by immersing the Philosopher's Stone -- was said to have the power to transmute base metals, such as iron and lead, into valuable ones, such as silver and gold. That power, however wonderful it might be, is hardly the extent of the alchemist's art. Alchemy can be much more dangerous, producing concoctions the size of a hand grenade that explode with the power of kilotons of dynamite, and it can be much more beneficial, creating salves and unguents that can bring a man back from the brink of death. This is our art, our science, our magic."

	Alchemy can be divided into two broad categories. One category is more closely related to chemistry, producing mundane and magic-like effects, while the other category is more closely related to magic, producing the kinds of effects described by the speaker in the quote opening this section. Both have the interesting properties of combining mundane chemistry with magic, and as such, I felt it warranted at least a brief discussion in the appendix.
	
	Some practitioners of alchemy take the art to one of the two extremes -- purely physical and purely magical. The former is significantly less common in modern practice, since modern chemistry is as potent and better documented if you want to use purely mundane methods, but it still finds application in communities where pure chemistry is less advanced or unavailable. Purely nonmagical alchemy has produced some wondrous materials, like the well-known alchemist's fire or a number of medicinal balms, but it is overall of less potency than its magical brethren. 
	
	On the other end of the spectrum is purely magical alchemy. This is possibly rarer than purely physical alchemy, on the grounds that the act of combining chemicals almost always involves some physical component. Still, since some alchemists can produce magical effects through combinations of chemicals that ought to be inert, there indeed is a purely magical form of alchemy practiced in some worlds. I will discuss the mechanism by which this functions in the upcoming paragraphs, in the hybrid form.
	
	This hybrid form spans the distance between the two extremes as a continuum. Various traditions of alchemy combine different amounts of magic with different amounts of chemistry. This combination of effects enables some interesting capacities. The magical portion of this hybrid alchemy works like the magic of any other tradition of magic, channeling mana through pathways set up by physical and paraform constructs, with the physical portions acting as mental focuses and material pathways, as normal. An additional bit of magic is often added as a kicker to delay the alchemical reaction until a trigger condition is reached.

	The chemical component, on the other hand, may serve multiple purposes. Not only can it serve as a channeling component for mana and a mental focus, but it may still perform normal chemical or alchemical reactions. These reactions can produce an independent effect (commonly applicable with a mundane antiseptic with magical healing), or they may produce a suitable substrate for the magic to act upon (this is especially true in flammable and explosive alchemical concoctions), or it may produce energy upon which the magical effect may draw directly. 

	Indeed, a particularly skilled alchemist can use all four uses of the physical side concurrently. He might begin by using the act of combining the chemicals to focus his mindset while the chemicals act as material components to organize the flow of his mana. When he produces the alchemical effect, then, the chemical reaction may perform some useful task, producing energy as a side effect to power the magic and leaving as its residue a substrate for the bound magic to interact upon. In fact, since the reaction produces energy, there need not necessarily be mana input into the system as the natural behavior of mana flows through the construct in the manner described in the treatise proper.
	
	With an additional level of complexity, a master alchemist can create a chain reaction that triggers a number of effects, with the output of the first effect setting up the pathways and initial conditions for the next one. These effect chains can be of epic proportions in the hands of the truly adept alchemist.

Appendix C: On Works Cited and Consulted in This Treatise

	In the formulation of this treatise, I drew information from a number of sources. These sources include:
	
	Various handbooks concerning the Earthdawn traditions of magic
	Descriptions of the various Mage of the Ascension traditions
	Numerous interviews and inquiries of wizards and non-wizards in two communities
	Reference manuals from the Greyhawk and Toril traditions
	Assorted articles from the Wikipedia