I’ve been thinking about magic systems a lot lately because I’ve been working on novels that involve magic and I’ve been planning out book number two in the Terra Trilogy. I also happened to catch a bit of Jurassic Park last night and for the first time really heard the Jeff Goldblum character give his lecture about how the Jurassic Park scientists had come by their science too easily, and how everything – in their case the creation of dinosaurs—came at a price. In Jeff’s case he was foretelling the deadly price that was to come in the movie, but what he said resonates on many levels. Everything has to come at a price to characters, especially when it comes to magic.
This relates to the planning and the world-building a writer must do before they write their book. I recall when I wrote my first book set in the Cartos universe, a universe where god created both humans and older beings made not of clay, but of earth and the Creator’s blood. This gave them the power to Create and change, so they can rewrite the landscape of their world. But the power of almost gods has to come at a price, so what would be fitting? Sure, there would be exhaustion, but there has to be something more. Logically, the price has to relate to the magic, so Creation had to play into the price. In this case, use of the Cartos magic means they are taking power from the mother goddess, so the price is that they must repay that creation. Which means that after the use of their power, they desperately need sex, which repays creation with procreation. If they don’t have sex, lets just say bad things happen. It may sound funny when I talk about it, but think about the consequences. No wonder the characters are hedonists and generally bitchy. How would you feel with a case of lust that literally burns in your bones after you’ve used the magic? Think about the societal impacts that sort of magic might have. It plays big into my upcoming epic Fantasy, the Warden of Power, and equally as big into my dytopian Fantasy, TERRA Incognita, my Historical Y.A. fantasy The Cartographer’s Daughter which will be coming out in September and in my current Urban Fantasy Afterburn, all of which take place in the Cartos universe.
But the price of magic exists even when it isn’t quite as front and centre. Magical creatures pay a price for their power. The Fairy folk can’t touch iron. Vampires, by their very nature, are killed by sunlight. Werewolves lose total control once a month and have to live with the guilt they inflict on the people they kill. Zombies—well—they fall apart, and even Patricia Briggs’ Mercy Thompson character who seems to get off pretty lightly for being a shape shifter, is part of a race that has been almost wiped out because of their power.
In today’s commercial world, this need to ‘pay’ seems normal, because these creatures aren’t gods. They are creatures ‘imbued’ or, some would say, ‘inflicted’ with magic. So magic is not only their ‘specialness’ but it is also a burden to carry. After all, even the Cartos carry the burden of Creation and knowing that if they change the landscape, they change all the beings on it—including the humans with whom they intermarry.
As non-magical beings and, in my case, a writer, I think this is one of the key lessons perhaps Jeff Goldblum, and Michael Crichton, author of Jurassic Park, were commenting on. Yes, they were talking about scientists, but in today’s society we need to remember that everything comes at a price and not just at the grocery or the department store. Last night, in addition to Jurassic Park, I also caught a National Geographic special on Patagonia and Tierra del Fuego. The special talked about the huge decline in the penguin, parrot and albatross colonies and in the dolphin and sea lion populations due to the industrial fishing taking place in that part of the world. Night shots from space showed the lights of the industrial fishing fleets were brighter, and larger, than the lights of Buenos Aires. Think about it: The fishing fleets are larger and brighter than a major metropolis! And so the sardine and other fish populations are disappearing and so are the birds and the porpoise and the seals that feed on them. Many of the young birds starve to death because their parents have to travel so far (fifty miles or more) for food and can’t get back in time to feed the chicks.
Many years ago, I read the wonderful fantasy novella by Larry Niven called The Magic Goes Away, about a world where all the magic had been used up. As I watched the Patagonia show last night it seemed to me that we are using up our own real magic— the funny little penguins , the rush of wings of the brightly colored parrots, the leap of the dolphin. When I read that book I was filled with a horrible sense of loss–the same feeling I had last night watching that show.
Unlike all those magical characters, we haven’t yet realized the price we’re about to pay.
