"With my apologies in advance to Archmage Fluder; I am no teacher." To be honest she's not this formal either, not in her day job, but something about, oh, being brutally murdered in terror and despair specifically over being perceived as rude has Arche being real formal in the hereafter. Can't imagine why that might be.
Her first drawing in the dust is a small, stylized fire, with wavy lines rising above it. "My home has, as I suspect all worlds have in some way or another, observable relationships between cause and effect. Hot air rises. Objects fall towards the earth. Sites of massacre and atrocity generate the undead. Uninfluenced by the actions of those within the world, it will proceed under those conditions. In that sense, many of what the lay person would call magic is not understood that way academically; a mass grave that produces the undead is referred to as magical, but it's no more, and no less, magical than a flying bird or a swimming fish. Referring to such a thing, or to 'magical' materials such as herbs, is useful for practical communication but academically frustrating."
The next picture is a stylized bottle, inside which she etches a little droplet. "An alchemist and a brewer are fundamentally performing the same work, but the former requires magical talent. This is where the academic definition attains its relevance; to do magic, or to be magical, whether this be the lost Wild Magic retained by the dragons or the Tier Magic that humans favor, is to - temporarily or permanently - dictate new terms of cause and effect, harnessing ambient power to do so. Much hay is made of a theoretical field or space in which the necessary power is absent, but it's never been created or proven to exist - it would be like a space in which objects do not fall. To do magic, one must be magical, have an inborn talent for the work. Not all magic-casters are born equal, but it is like having a sixth sense, but also like having a third arm. It is not enough to be born able to perceive the power; one must also be able to touch it. Weak 'sight', or a weak 'arm', means a weak magic-caster."
no subject
Her first drawing in the dust is a small, stylized fire, with wavy lines rising above it. "My home has, as I suspect all worlds have in some way or another, observable relationships between cause and effect. Hot air rises. Objects fall towards the earth. Sites of massacre and atrocity generate the undead. Uninfluenced by the actions of those within the world, it will proceed under those conditions. In that sense, many of what the lay person would call magic is not understood that way academically; a mass grave that produces the undead is referred to as magical, but it's no more, and no less, magical than a flying bird or a swimming fish. Referring to such a thing, or to 'magical' materials such as herbs, is useful for practical communication but academically frustrating."
The next picture is a stylized bottle, inside which she etches a little droplet. "An alchemist and a brewer are fundamentally performing the same work, but the former requires magical talent. This is where the academic definition attains its relevance; to do magic, or to be magical, whether this be the lost Wild Magic retained by the dragons or the Tier Magic that humans favor, is to - temporarily or permanently - dictate new terms of cause and effect, harnessing ambient power to do so. Much hay is made of a theoretical field or space in which the necessary power is absent, but it's never been created or proven to exist - it would be like a space in which objects do not fall. To do magic, one must be magical, have an inborn talent for the work. Not all magic-casters are born equal, but it is like having a sixth sense, but also like having a third arm. It is not enough to be born able to perceive the power; one must also be able to touch it. Weak 'sight', or a weak 'arm', means a weak magic-caster."