"Awesome! I'll be right back, then."

To find magic!

The Sage was right, there's a lot more magic outside, flowing in rivers and currents every which way. They don't have colours, exactly, but to the extent they do, there are three of them, although they merge and flow into each other and the boundary isn't super sharp. And the most impressive bit of it is the enormous swirling mass of it that's holding the islands aloft. Actually, with the ability to see magic, it would not even be correct to say that the islands are floating in the void; it's much more like they are floating in the sea, thick with magic as far as the eye can see.

Coooooooool!

Anyway how does he grab it?

Just like so.

Oh that tickles.

Some of the magic won't budge, though. In fact, most of the magic around seems attached to this or that, and he can pull on some of it but not actually tug it free. He needs to get the bits of magic that are in the air, drifting freely and aimlessly, and not moving with any purpose.

Yeah legit. He'll try to grab enough of that until he can't anymore, like the Sage asked.

It's not obvious what that means, at first, but it starts getting... uncomfortable, after a while.

...uncomfortable how?

Like... buzzing on his skin? Or like his stomach is starting to get unsettled, or he's not comfortable in his body, like he's got too much energy.

Oh he does not like this. He does not like this at all. It's alright and bearable at first but it's starting to get really, really unpleasant.

And it gets worse. Too hot and too cold at the same time like a fever, and too restless like he can't sit still, but his vision is starting to swim and he's getting dizzy, it feels like he's full, too full, like he might go sick if he keeps going—

Ooooooooooooookay he thinks this is enough actually, or he fucking hopes it is because he doesn't think he can take any more.

"IthinkI'mdone," he says to the Sage all at once when he finds them, holding his breath and trying not to hyperventilate because that'll make him even more likely to throw up.

"Oh, you poor thing, here, shhh, it'll be alright," says Morgyn, getting up from where they'd been reading a book and chatting to someone else. They place their hands on Peter's shoulders and then Peter feels fine all at once.

"Oh thank you," God that was horrible. He guesses he's not a spellcaster so holding onto magic is bad? That'd make sense.

"Now just one moment," says the Sage, apparently unbothered by all of the magic they just took in. They start gesticulating in the air again, this time for much longer, and the air starts to crackle and buzz with magic, enough that he can see sparks flying between their fingers. "This will feel bad," they warn, then they grab him by the shoulders again—

OW

It hits him like an oncoming train, like he's being turned inside out and beat to a pulp, like all of his organs and even his cells are being shuffled and rearranged. It hurts, it really, really hurts, it hurts everywhere and it hurts a lot and it keeps hurting. His memories claim that he's had kidney stones before and they claim that those hurt worse, but this still hurts a fuckton. And if that's not enough, he's suddenly really, really tired. If it weren't for Morgyn holding him firmly by the shoulders he might have collapsed, all of the energy sapped from his body, his blood pressure plummeting and the air getting knocked out of his lungs.

After a few seconds he feels more stable, but it still hurts a lot.

God fucking damnit why did neither of the Sages he talked to think to warn him that this was going to fuck him up that bad.

"Is it," deep breath, "meant to hurt this much?"

"Yes. You are no longer a Sim. You are now a Spellcaster. Your body is new."

"What does that mean."

"It means you changed species."

"wha"

"Wait is that why a spellcaster can't be a vampire?"

"Yes."