John drew his wand and waved it casually.
The toppled shelves and scattered books all returned to their places on their own.
A gust swept the dust off the table, and John set the Book of the Vishanti down on it.
"Let me see the knowledge you hold."
John opened the Book of the Vishanti.
The moment his palm touched the book.
The first clash of magic arose within the room.
"Are you resisting me? Or inviting me?"
John closed his eyes slightly.
"Why not speak with me, Vishanti?"
The pulses from that clash of magic began to slow.
John sent a magical resonance through his fingers, letting it blend with the book's.
The greatest difference between wizards and sorcerers was that one used their own power, while the other drew power from a higher dimension.
The Vishanti essentially existed in another dimension.
Sorcerers borrowed their power to face their enemies.
John had studied sorcerer magic in both the Library and the Ancient One's notes.
The difference was that the power John drew on for his magic was his own.
Opening his body and mind, he tried to make contact with the Vishanti's power.
As their rhythms aligned, an orange-red light shone on John's hand.
Threads like fibers spread from his fingers up his arm.
That power gradually enveloped John's body.
He began to feel it flowing through him.
Unlike his own power, this power was ancient beyond measure.
It resembled the chaos particles, yet was different.
The power from the Vishanti Dimension received a message from the Wizard King.
That message also needed to be relayed to the Vishanti.
"Give me a hand. Stop watching."
Everything before John's eyes had turned pure white. Behind that door, the silver John heard him and used the dreamscape as a springboard.
Three