On Evocation

By Sammuel Valorian

• The rich leather cover of this book is embossed and colored to show a hand with its fingers in a vortex.*

Magic exists to be shared. Following this tenant and finding in my recent dotage time to put quill to tome, I hope to foist upon you the small breadth of knowledge I have managed over a lifetime of study. Let not, dear reader, your understanding of this work substitute for practice. While the theory of evocation herein may be of use, it pales to lessons gained through practiced application, particularly those performed in the field under duress.

The evocative art is primarily one of creation. Raw magical energy from the vortex is drawn by the evoker and shaped for direct use. This shaping produces flows of energy known generally as acid, lightning, fire, ice, sound, or force. There is some misdirection, however, in these names. Careful observation will show that an evocative ice storm, cold as it is, leaves no ice to melt to water. For all the burning fury of an evocative fireball, detonated alone it produces no ash. This necessitates a necessary distinction between the element itself and the energetic flow. This has led to the names vitriolic, galvanic, thermic, hypothermic, sonic, and motive being used to distinguish the flows by Visimontium windbags long on love and short on compassion (the former for their own words, and the latter for their audience). Plainly put, evocation creates not the thing, but the energy given by the thing. This stands in marked contrast to the ice that chills Tyedu, or the wood-fire that warms a hearth.

Observation of this ice and fire will show that when brought to a reasonable proximity, the former warms and melts while the later ultimately cools and extinguishes. Even without physical contact, there is an energy exchange between them. Warmth flows from the fire to the ice, and in this, we find a fundament of our plane: The prime material abhors an energetic imbalance. Energy present within it will find a way to move from the haves to the have-nots (that trees spend the entirety of their lives greedily hoarding the energy of the sun should inform the thoughtful reader of the un-naturalness forests possess). It is the flow of energy that the evoker makes with a spell, and the energetic imbalance used to drive it is drawn from the vortex.

For acid- and electrical-based evocations the flow is akin to those energies exchanged in alchemical imbalances. For the traditional evocations such as magic missile, it is a motional energy like that which passes between bodies during an impact. Sonic spells make use of an advanced form of this exchange in which the motional flow is driven with a high rapidity. Fire and ice spells are opposite directions along a well-traveled path, with fire evocations providing a flow of warmth and cold evocations removing a flow of warmth (this latter phenomenon often witnessed in the unfortunate effect of cryomancers upon any social function).

Out of all the elemental flows, most evocations employ those from fire, ice, or force. The reason for this is familiarity. Warmth and motion are the foundations of our physical experience in the world, which gives the mage the benefit of acquaintance and expectation when shaping a spell. There is a deeper phenomenon at work as well, for this familiarity and expectation lies not just with the mage, but is itself iterated across all living begins upon the prime material. In aggregate this can embody a primal power, and where power accumulates imbalance grows.

Thinking outside box, the astute reader may question if non-standard energetic flows can be employed as evocations, or if sources of imbalance outside of the vortex of magic may serve to power evocative spells. The short answer is yes and yes; but to attempt either, without a true understanding of the energy or how to draw upon the imbalance poses significant risk, as the tribulations of Magus Carnen in her early work with radiant pyromancy made clear.

It is a common belief that evocations possess great energy. This is often a fallacy. The amount of energy in a fireball pales to that received across an evening in front of a well-lit hearth. The effective difference between the two lies in the immediacy of the application. Even a small flow of energy can be damaging if it arrives suddenly, and a large amount safe when spread across time and space. In analogy, a person standing upon a high city wall can climb down or jump down, with each method producing quite a different feeling at the bottom. The damaging evocations are therefore always cast as instantaneous or near-instantaneous magics. Thus, the evoker looking to improve their efficacy must think not only of the amount of magic employed but also of the rapidity of its transfer to the target. Improving the latter is often more effective than improving the former.

This concludes this basic treatment of evocation. There is much work still to be done in the evokers' field at every level, and it is my fervent hope to see new mages take up the task.