III. Boundaries and Blasphemies
By the height of the Age of Wonders, generations of mages had built upon the teachings first carried by the elves from Ilyr'dor.
Academies, imperial institutions, and private laboratories turned their attention toward forces that earlier scholars had approached only cautiously. Established theories were tested, discarded, and rewritten as new disciplines emerged from the growing body of arcane knowledge.
Some mages turned their attention toward time.
Chronurgists studied the progression governed by Io, developing spells capable of hastening or slowing its passage around creatures and objects. Later experiments produced brief distortions in which time itself appeared to behave differently within a confined space.
Their successes drew as much concern as admiration. Time had long belonged to Io's divine domain, and few could say what might follow if a spell reached beyond effects its caster knew how to reverse.
Graviturgists pursued a different force. Their studies began with weight and movement, eventually allowing them to strengthen, weaken, and redirect gravity itself. What began in laboratories soon found uses in construction, transportation, and warfare.
Other fields brought questions that were far older.
Necromancy had been practiced in various forms for generations, but the institutions of the Age of Wonders allowed its study to become more systematic. Mages examined mortal remains, the magic surrounding death, and the changes that accompanied the end of a life.
Some developed methods of speaking with the dead or recovering knowledge that might otherwise have been lost. Others learned to animate corpses for labor, defense, and warfare.
Necromancy itself was never condemned throughout Eldareth as a single forbidden art. For many followers of Athael, the greater concern was the fate of the soul.
A corpse could be animated after its former occupant had passed onward. Binding that soul, stealing it, calling it back against its will, or preventing its passage was another matter entirely. In many lands, those acts brought practitioners into direct conflict with temples of the Matron of Ravens.
Blood Magic created different problems.
Its practitioners learned that blood and living vitality could strengthen spells and sustain rituals beyond what a mage might otherwise manage. Some drew only upon themselves and endured the resulting weakness or injury. Others worked with willing participants.
But there were also those who took blood by force.
Accounts of captives used in rituals and victims killed to fuel spellwork spread beyond the academies. In some kingdoms, Blood Magic itself became suspect. Elsewhere, laws distinguished between blood freely given and that taken through coercion or violence.
No such distinction satisfied everyone.
Arcane institutions argued over what should be taught and what should remain beyond legitimate study. Temples issued their own judgments, while rulers imposed restrictions according to the fears and needs of their realms.
One academy might teach necromancy openly while forbidding any interference with souls. Another might remove the discipline from its halls entirely. Chronurgy could be celebrated in one city and regarded with deep suspicion in the next.
Blood Magic proved just as difficult to regulate. Practices accepted when performed upon oneself could carry severe punishment elsewhere, while some rulers tolerated methods that others considered grounds for immediate arrest.
Attempts were made to establish boundaries.
Dangerous texts were placed under guard. Experiments involving unwilling subjects were prohibited by many institutions. Certain rituals required witnesses, supervision, or permission from local authorities.
Those restrictions rarely ended the research.
Private laboratories operated beyond the oversight of the academies. Wealthy patrons funded experiments that established institutions refused to support. Scholars crossed borders when another kingdom offered greater freedom than their own.
And sometimes the warnings proved justified.
Rituals failed. Spells escaped the control of those performing them. Laboratories were destroyed, assistants injured, and occasionally the consequences reached beyond those who had willingly taken part.
Yet failure did little to halt an age accustomed to overcoming what earlier generations had considered impossible.
Mortals had learned to illuminate cities without flame. They had raised ships into the sky, redirected gravity, and built great conduits capable of drawing upon the ley lines beneath the world.
There remained one boundary that no academy had yet found a reliable way to cross.
Mortality itself.