Today, my Witchy Wednesday post is about magic systems and rules. When I was thinking about what topics I wanted to cover, I broached the subject with K Tempest Bradford, from Writing the Other, who encouraged me to talk about magic systems and their intersection with theme and narrative. As such, this post may resonate more with writers working on stories, games, etc. than with the average reader while touching on some nuances you may be unfamiliar with.

Defining a Magic System

What is a magic system? Well, any time a character uses magic, a system is implied. Remember that even though magic, historically, is a cauldron of disciplines stirred with faith, in stories magic is synonymous with power. That power is accessed in some fashion, either through words, thoughts, symbols, rituals, etc. to manifest an effect. A fireball. A wall of force. Attracting spiders. Etc.

The fundamental means by which that power is accessed forms what the reader imagines and the viewer perceives. The source of the magic, however, is separate. This is where a lot of problems can come into play–especially if you lean into “The Chosen One” trope, where that character is the only source of that magic due to special blood/lineage/genes. What’s “in” a character’s blood has problematic ties to “blood quantum.” (See links below.) Here’s where this subject, in particular, gets interesting. If magic is synonymous with power, think about what you’re saying as a creator, through your lens, when the only person who gets to use that power has the “right” blood or genes.

Sources of Magic Systems

Magic, even in fantasy, taps into real-world phenomena. John Dee’s Enochian system, for example, originated from his automatic writing sessions which tapped into his subconscious. The language he created had British English syntax, to speak with Christian angles, was clearly sourced from what he knew and perceived through his lens. Believers might perceive that angelic language is holy–and that’s the “faith” aspect of the language that can be spoken or written to communicate with powerful, angelic beings. The reality? The syntax was formed from his own subconsciousness and beliefs.

Even powerful earth elementals, namely the gnome, sylph, salamander, and ondine, have roots in history. The elementals were developed and then popularized by the 16th century physician Paracelsus, bringing them to a wider audience. Though Paracelsus is broadly considered the father of modern toxicology and his accomplishments are also lauded, the physician also believed in polygenesis and sourced many of his ideas from ancient philosophers, like the Greeks. “Polygenism is a theory of human origins which posits the view that the human races are of different origins (polygenesis).”(8) Those gnomes? They were inspired by the members of an African pygmy tribe ancient Greek writers wrote about–and the physician drew inspiration from. In fact, the word “gnome” or “gnomus” was synonymous with pygmy. And, in Paracelsus’s view, these elementals may seem human, but they weren’t.

The point I am trying to make here isn’t that you, as a writer, need to research as deeply as I have to understand the origin of a magical symbol or belief. What I am saying is this: Think about what you want to “say” about magic in your story. What message about power and manifestation do you want to get across to your readers? Then, recognize that your magic system is perceived when your character taps into that power.

I do not believe that magic systems need to be complex in any way, shape, or form; much depends on the type of story you’re telling, the game you’re designing, and the form you’re presenting your story in. That power I spoke of earlier? It does not have to be tied to a character’s blood, but ability. Perhaps the protagonist is the last known person to understand a magical language or recreate sigils, and they’ve been in hiding for so long they’ve been unable to find a mentee. This simple detail is incredibly realistic and relatable, and it has nothing to do with the character’s biology. Magic can also be misunderstood. A character can believe that they’re an all-powerful wizard, the only one of their kind, but the magic they’re performing has nothing to do with the timbre of their voice, but the quality of the gems embedded in their staff.

There is also the issue of cultural appropriation and popularized, modern traditions to consider. Remember when I said faith is synonymous with magic? Western occultism originated in France in the late 18th/early 19th centuries. Elphias Levi, a key figure in this movement, was Christian. The cross-legged Baphomet you might picture? It’s not ancient. Levi created that image and another occultist, Aleister Crowley, later adopted that symbol and claimed (among other things) that he was a reincarnation of Levi himself.

Order of the Golden Dawn, Crowley’s group, is the epicenter of many, modern occult traditions and drew inspiration from Christian esotericism as well as Jewish mysticism. If you’re creating anything inspired by a modern, Western tradition, I highly recommend doing a tiny bit of digging. There was a significant amount of cultural appropriation during the Age of Spiritualism, and many members of the OotGD were both wealthy and privileged. I personally don’t see it discussed often, but class and privilege do play into both the use and understanding of magic–not everyone is literate, can afford the best components, has the means to travel, etc.

Testing Your Magic System

One way to “test” the efficacy of your system is to attach rules to it–much like you would a game. In the years I’ve been a game designer, I’ve worked with and created magic systems that employ imagination (Pinching Tarts), tarot cards (Court of Shadows), thaumaturgy (Vampire: the Masquerade 20th Anniversary edition supplements), sacrifice (Unknown Armies third edition), etc. I’ve also played many, many fantasy games in various mediums. Once you attach rules, you can see the pressure points, and how the magic breaks down–but that’s not necessarily a bad thing. Unless you’re designing a game, what’s most important in a story is what you want to say about magic, and whether or not that message comes across.

The emphasis on magic systems is partly what leads to the idea that magic has to have a cost. I used to believe this absolutely had to be the case–especially in the case of Harry Potter and the Unforgivable Curses. The fact that there’s nothing stopping from people killing people willy-nilly feels unrealistic to me. There isn’t a counter-spell? And only some mental fortitude can deflect violent attacks? In this particular case, I still believe there’s a missing component, because people can and will defend themselves however they can. However, I don’t think that magic necessarily has to have a cost–but a failure condition instead.

A failure condition is simply asking and answering the question: “What happens if this spell doesn’t work?” Does it backfire on the caster? Does it consume the resources the cast used to make the spell?” In this way, the cost is built into what’s most important–what happens when the character’s power cannot be accessed or used. This helps codify what happens in a story, a game, etc. For example, if your magic stems from a rose that only grows in the lands of the Fey, what happens when the caster travels back to our world? Does the rose deteriorate over time? Can you replant it in our world? Etc.

Examining Other Magic Systems

One of the ways to identify what works and what doesn’t is to think critically about existing or popular settings flush with magic. By doing so, I hope you feel empowered to tell your own stories rather than be intimidated or strictly guided by existing settings. No creator’s work, including mine, will ever resonate with everyone perfectly no matter how great of a writer you are. And I want to give you an example of this: Brandon Sanderson’s Mistborn. Now, I do find the magic system in the author’s work problematic; I say this as someone who wrote and developed for the Mistborn roleplaying game (Skaa: Tin and Ash and Nobles: The Golden Mandate). Let me be very, very clear about this: Am I saying Brandon is a bad person? No. Am I saying he should never write again? Absolutely not. I’m simply saying that I found his magic system to be problematic, because it echoes a lot of white supremacist ideals and I, personally, did not intuit great messages from the metaphors used in those books.

In Mistborn, the magic you can perform is tied to your genetics. There are slaves called the skaa who don’t have this magic in their blood. The nobles, on the other hand, do. And the Terrismen, who use a different type of magic and are often servants to the nobility, have all been neutered. So you have this power dynamic between the ruling and servant classes, purposefully created to serve the trilogy’s plot and the twist. My impression, both studying and reading the books for the purposes of creating a playable game, was that everyone except the Terrismen were white. And the way that I read this, was that the Terris people who serve the nobility, who have their own form of magic, cannot procreate and thrive by themselves. The skaa and the Terrismen have (for the majority of the books) little agency, with or without magic.

While that lack of agency is part of the plot, attaching this specific magic system to a game meant that the people who could use magic were white and privileged–on top of the other socioeconomic privileges associated with their class. Now add in the identity layers. There are no queer characters in the first Mistborn era and all of the people of color are subservient with the exception of the Lord Ruler. And, the Lord Ruler, who’s the most powerful, magically-speaking, is “the” antagonist of that first era and depicted as dark.

Now that Mistborn is being adapted to another game, called Cosmere, and a TV series, I absolutely do have concerns about the eugenics prominent in the story logic and its essential role in how magic is performed. And quite honestly? These problems exist regardless of the author’s intent. You can intend to create a wonderful magic system, but it doesn’t mean it’s automatically, if not magically, problem-free.

When I was talking to Tempest about this in particular, the idea that (the) author’s intent is not magical, she encouraged me to share one of the moments from my own career when I was wrong. I remember years ago, some point during the Before Times, I was at a convention and someone was talking about the Asian-American response to Firefly, and the lack of representation in the show and ancillary materials. I don’t recall specifically what was said, but I do remember I made a shitty comment in response, because my ego got a little bruised. I thought that I had ticked off all the right boxes and did all the right things to create a line of roleplaying games based on the show. I did my job–why would people still be upset? Now mind you, I was among friends at the time. Friends who not only knew me, but understood that I had the “intent” of making a game that anyone, regardless of identity, could play to evoke the feel of being in the show. And I not only had the privilege of making that mistake in front of them, I also had the opportunity to sit down, listen, and learn why Asian-Americans were upset. Not everyone gets that chance. I needed to understand that a setting framed by a culture, a galaxy-spanning war, that doesn’t have any named, visible representative characters from that culture was problematic no matter the decisions I made. No matter my intent. Yes, I am fully aware we live in a world where the perception is that we cannot make mistakes, but in our day-to-day lives as human beings? Failure is one of the few ways we learn and grow.

As I continue to work with Writing the Other, I’ve learned that one of the core tenets is to empower writers rather than limit. Yes, write characters who don’t share your identity or, apropos of this post, employ magic systems that are rooted in a different culture without appropriating that culture whole cloth. Wonderfully imaginative works are possible! It just takes time, experience, and a careful attention to detail to avoid falling into traps that popularize harmful messages that are not fantastical, but from history and belief.

If you liked this post, you can donate to Writing the Other to help creators. You can always buy me a coffee, too.

Resources

Here is a list of some articles for context and further reading.

1. nativegov.org/resources/blood-quantum-and-sovereignty-a-guide
2. nativephilanthropy.candid.org/events/blood-quantum-laws-support-chattel-slavery-and-stealing-of-lands
3. npr.org/sections/codeswitch/2018/02/09/583987261/so-what-exactly-is-blood-quantum
4. laphamsquarterly.org/magic-shows/well-without-bottom
5. ancient-origins.net/artifacts-ancient-writings/enochian-mysterious-lost-language-angels-003100
6. faena.com/aleph/the-four-elemental-beings-of-earth-according-to-paracelsus
7. academic.oup.com/princeton-scholarship-online/book/15981/chapter-abstract/170926196
8. en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Polygenism
9. springer.com/chapter/10.1057/9780230609198_5
10. sacred-texts.com/eso/sta/sta25.htm
11. sunypress.edu/Books/E/Eliphas-Levi-and-the-French-Occult-Revival
12. britannica.com/topic/Baphomet
13. britannica.com/science/eugenics-genetics

Tags | fantasy, magic, rules