Hold Me Tight, For I Am Unlovely

Chapter 32 : Sol Lucet Omnibus

Chapter 32 :

"And the story is rolling, and it's folding, and it's happening."
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"Strings can be conjured in one of two ways," Leticia began, her tone tentative as she held up two fingers. "The first is through the use of common language incantations," she explained, pausing for emphasis. "And the second is by invoking runes." Her fingers remained raised as she spoke, listing the methods by which magical practitioners summon a string.

The common language incantation Leticia referred to was a spell rooted in the very language used for everyday conversations, the tongue spoken by all in this world. It was the most fundamental form of magic, designed to be accessible even to those with no formal training.

Its purpose was not to perform grand feats but to establish a connection between the caster and the magical threads that wove through existence in a form of the castor's will.

This incantation could only summon a single string—a delicate, fleeting manifestation of raw magical energy from the core.

No matter how skilled or practiced the caster, the limitations of the common language ensured that the string would never evolve into something greater. It was not meant for complex spells or powerful rituals, but rather as a stepping stone, a foundation upon which all future magical learning could be built.

Incantations of the common language were far from universal though; they varied from one individual to another, shaped by centuries of epiphanic human knowledge. These spells were the result of trial, error, and meticulous study, evolving over generations as practitioners refined their methods and adapted them to their unique understanding of magic.

This variability extends to families and magical lineages, each with their own distinct version of the common language incantation.

The Baltimores, for instance, had their own meticulously honed incantation, passed down and perfected through their bloodline. And in Leticia's opinion, practically summed up their holier than thou attitudes. They embodied the saying 'Blood is thicker than water.'

The Salvatorés as well, known for their precision, had crafted a variation that reflected their analytical approach to magic. Cold, logical, direct. Summing up the image of the sons and daughters of the cold.

The Medicci's favored an incantation steeped in tradition and elegance, a grace that Leticia fought hard to embody.

Though these variations differed in structure, tone, and emphasis, they all shared a singular purpose: to summon the foundational magical string. The diversity of incantations reflected the individuality of their creators.

Leticia on the other hand, currently uses the Medicci's common language incantation.

A key reason for this variation was the deeply secretive nature of the common language incantation. For families with magical lineage, these incantations were considered treasures—carefully guarded knowledge passed down through generations.

Such families would go to extreme lengths to keep their version of the incantation hidden, the Medicci's were no different.

This fierce gatekeeping was rooted in both pride and practicality. The incantation was a cornerstone of their magical dominance (nobles and their shnicks of bs) ; if others gained access to it, it could diminish their influence or, worse, expose their vulnerabilities.

"What can you say about our family's incantation?" Vitorria asked after a pause. Her tone was expectant.

Leticia shrugged before replying. "I can see how much effort has gone into refining it over the years," she admitted, her voice measured. "The revisions are impressive, long, and winding, I saw the records about it and I couldn't understand anything of it." She trailed off, rubbing the back of her neck as a faint frown appeared.

"Honestly, I still can’t figure out half of what I was chanting about earlier. It’s like I’m deciphering a code written by someone far too clever for their own good." She supplied.

Her mother raised a brow, then let out a soft, amused laugh. "To think you even went as far as to do a little background study on it. What else have you noticed?"

Leticia tilted her head thoughtfully. "Well, I think the common language incantation is a bit... redundant."

Vittoria’s eyes gleamed. "Oh? And by that, you mean...?"

"I mean, we already have the runic wordings, right? Why do we still need to pair them with common language incantations? It feels like an unnecessary step." Leticia shrugged. "If the runes carry the original magic, why do we still have the use for common language incantation."

"You've certainly inherited an analytical mind." Her mother jests.

"Mom," Leticia sighed, rolling her eyes before continuing, "I get it. The runic wordings—and the runes themselves—are mostly lost, at least some of them. But why can't we just use the ones we still have to reconnect directly with magic? Why dilute everything with these common language incantations?"

She gestured with her hands, as if it helped with explaining her point. "We're trying to build a foundation here, aren’t we? Wouldn’t it be better if we used the stronger, more efficient alternative? The runes are precise. They come from the origin. It feels like we’re adding an unnecessary step that only weakens the magic."

Her mother watched her with a calm expression, though her lips twitched with amusement. "You’re so certain, aren’t you?" she remarked, her tone teasing but with a hint of approval. "You make it sound so simple—just use the runes we still have and bypass everything else."

"Well, it is simple," Leticia shot back, folding her arms. "Why overcomplicate it if we already have something better?"

Her mother chuckled softly, clearly pleased. "Good. Keep asking questions, Leticia. That’s the only way to truly understand."

"Mom," Leticia sighed. Wondering why her mother seemed so amused with her questioning.

Runes. What were runes, anyways?

To the inhabitants of this world, runes were sacred—origin words, the very foundation of magic itself. They weren’t just symbols or scripts; they were the essence of power, the primal language that could tap directly into the forces of nature. The words carried weight, significance, and an almost divine authority. They were revered, studied, and wielded with precision.

But for Leticia?

They were just... English words.

But here?

Runes were lost, forgotten, their significance buried under centuries of time. They were practically nonexistent, save for a handful that had been unearthed by scholars and researchers. Those few fragments of the origin words were studied so obsessively, so meticulously, that they had become rarer and more elusive than the king himself.

To even glimpse a true rune was a privilege reserved for the highest circles—archmages, royal scholars, and those deemed worthy by fate or fortune.

Vittoria chuckled softly, leaning back in her chair. "In the end magic is not just about power or precision you know," she sighed, "Your father should be the one explaining this to you, but anyways—it's also about accessibility, knowledge, advancement and intent. Not everyone has the luck or affinity, or the brains to connect with runes directly. The common language incantations? They're a bridge, not a crutch. A way to make magic more inclusive."

Vittoria gazed at her daughter with a teasing smile, her eyes glinting with amusement. "If it frustrates you this much, perhaps you should try your hand at combat training instead," she suggested lightly. "It’s more hands-on and far less... theoretical. Besides," she added with a sly grin, "I’m much better suited to teaching in the field than stuck here debating magic theory."

[AUTHOR'S NOTE: So I'll probably just update when all of the chapter gets at least 2 likes]