After picking up his robes, they took a taxi back to the orphanage. Merlin bid the Proffessor farewell at the door before quickly scurrying off to his room with his trunk.
He closed the door behind him, then opened the trunk and eagerly pulled out The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 1 by Miranda Goshawk.
Lying down on the bed, he flipped it open and began reading slowly, his eyes following each word.
The first chapter was a preface. Miranda Goshawk spoke about the history of spellcraft and how wizards once relied on crude gestures and guttural chants before the refinement of proper spellcasting.
There were also anecdotes—early spellwrights who accidentally set their own hair aflame while attempting to invent "a safer method of lighting fires," and duelists whose incantations were as long as full poems.
As he read further, the text gradually shifted from history to structure, describing the key components of casting a spell.
Regardless of the complexity of the spell, Miranda listed three crucial components—wand movement, incantation, and an element she called belief.
'Belief?' Merlin raised an eyebrow. She seemed to put special emphasis on the word; it was written in bold and repeated several times.
According to her, a wizard's belief must be firm and certain. If there was even a flicker of doubt or hesitation, the spell might fail or even backfire.
Merlin's eyes shone with interest. It sounded reasonable, and he wondered if stronger belief could make a spell more powerful.
He turned another page and continued reading.
The book covered eight charms in total, each with its own section with title, purpose, wand movement, and incantation.
There were diagrams showing proper wand arcs, notes on common mistakes, and illustrations of posture. The margins also held brief reminders about safety and practice for novices.
Merlin appreciated the thoroughness. It felt less like a children's textbook and more like a manual.
He skimmed through the list of charms, reading only their titles and purposes before returning to the very first one—The Wand-Lighting Charm (Lumos).
The description explained its origin: a practical charm first popularized by explorers and later standardized by the Ministry for fieldwork. It required a simple upward swish of the wand and a clear incantation—Lumos. The result, according to the book, should be "a steady spark of white light equal to that of a candle flame."
Merlin studied the illustration of the glowing wand tip. He drew his own wand and practiced the movement and incantation separately at first, repeating them until it felt smooth. Then he decided to try it for real.
Here goes nothing.
Taking a steady breath, he waved his wand and whispered, "Lumos."
A dim spark appeared at the wand's tip. It kept flickering for a whole second and then vanished entirely.
"Sure enough, it's not that simple," Merlin muttered under his breath.
He replayed the process in his mind, analyzing each step. The wand movement and incantation should be identical to the description. That left only one variable—belief.
But I did hope that the spell would succeed. Doesn't that count as belief? He frowned, lost in thought.
After a while, he lifted his wand once more.
"Lumos."
A faint spark once again bloomed at the tip. The brightness was far from a candle's glow, but this time it stayed for longer.
Merlin's eyes remained glued to the spark before it went out after five seconds. There wasn't a trace of satisfaction on his face despite the progress.
The first time, he speculated he had been too focused externally. This time, he had directed his attention inward and firmly believed that a white, warm, and radiant spark of light would ignite at his wand's tip upon casting the spell.
It wasn't particularly difficult for him, and the result improved noticeably—but it was still far from the ideal result described in the book.
'What went wrong?'
He had a hunch that with enough practice, he'd eventually reach the textbook effect. But he wanted to understand why he couldn't achieve it now. He had followed every component of spellcasting perfectly—wand movement, incantation, and belief.
Or was he getting the last one wrong again? He wasn't sure, to be honest.
After pondering for a while, he set the book aside and pulled another from his trunk.
Magical Theory by Adalbert Waffling.
He opened the book and began reading the first chapter.
What is Magic?
The heading instantly drew his attention. The chapter began with a discussion on what magic truly was. Waffling proposed that it was a form of power innate to wizards and speculated that it originated from the soul itself.
His tone was completely different from Miranda's. His writing was dense, philosophical, and filled with comparisons and distinctions.
In simple words, it wasn't based on evidence so much as speculation and theory.
The next chapter covered the topic Merlin had just read about in the TheStandardBookofSpells—the three components of spellcasting, only in much greater detail.
Waffling wrote that magical power was wild and formless by nature, and without an aiding tool, most wizards and witches would find it very hard to control.
A wand was precisely that—it helped wizards channel and shape their magic power during spellcasting, and wand movement was the means to invoke that function.
Incantations served the same purpose. Words discovered to resonate with magic power, aiding in channeling and shaping it. Combined with wandwork, they allowed even young, inexperienced wizards and witches with almost no control over their magic to cast spells.
However, Waffling emphasized that the true essence of magic still lay in belief—or rather, will, as he called it.
A half-hearted spell, no matter how precise the wand movement or pronunciation of the incantation was, would fail to take form. There was no explanation as to why these principles worked, only conclusions accepted and refined over generations.
Waffling gave an example of how some wizards in emotionally heightened states, despite having unrefined control over their magic power, could suddenly cast nonverbal or even wandless magic in certain situations.
This, he claimed, was ultimate proof of the importance of will!
As Merlin delved further into the chapter, Waffling began discussing these advanced spellcasting techniques.
According to him, words and gestures were, in the end, merely tools. A wizard with sufficient control over their magic power and a strong enough will could cast spells without either.
This type of spellcasting was widely known as nonverbal or silent magic.
Wandless magic, on the other hand, was an entirely different level of beast.
It required a wizard to have near-perfect control over their magic power and an exceptionally strong will. Even then, it wasn't recommended for casting complex spells.
Most wizards, he remarked, never reached the level of wandless magic in their entire lives.
Merlin continued reading without blinking, completely absorbed.
Later chapters delved into the differences between raw magic and structured spellwork, the limitations of certain spells, and the ways emotion could influence magical stability.
The book was thinner than The Standard Book of Spells, but its contents were far more complex. Each page demanded his full attention, and Waffling's writing style made skimming through it impossible.
Merlin even asked his other self, who was playing house with his little sister Angel, to ponder some of the more complex passages.
As he neared the end, Merlin felt his understanding of magic had deepened.
It was, without question, a good book.
Waffling never claimed to be right; instead, he explored multiple perspectives, comparing theories and referencing scholars, encouraging wizards to think for themselves.
Merlin believed that was the main reason Magical Theory was even included in the first-year curriculum, as he found that some of its concepts were a bit too advanced for someone just entering the wizarding world.
Fortunately, he also found his answer. The book made it clear that while wand movement and incantation assisted in channeling and shaping magic, the true control came from the wizard himself.
As someone who had just gotten his wand, his control over his magic power and adaptability in using his wand was almost nonexistent. Even with perfect execution, his magic likely scattered before it could fully take shape.
The solution was also simple: practice.
Repeatedly casting the same spells would gradually strengthen his control until his magic could flow smoothly through the wand and obey his will.
"Since that's the case…" Merlin's hand reached out for his wand, and for a long time, only the faint sound of the incantation echoed through the room.