The Seventh State of Magic

By Iga Korneta

The Seventh State of Magic is a gripping fantasy adventure that blends science, ambition, and political intrigue.

Aushra Żmij is no ordinary wizard. A prodigy in a world where magic is both a science and a power struggle, she has mastered what few ever achieve—the sixth state of magic. But that is not enough. She seeks the impossible: the legendary seventh state, a force said to be beyond human reach.

To unlock this ultimate power, she must navigate a world of ancient bloodlines and hidden agendas, set against a rich tapestry of cultures and species. Accompanied by a reluctant bodyguard with secrets of his own, Aushra's journey will take her from the halls of knowledge to the depths of untamed magic—and into the heart of a mystery that could reshape her world forever.

For readers who love intelligent, character-driven fantasy with intricate world-building and a magic system rooted in logic, The Seventh State of Magic is an unforgettable exploration of power, discovery, and the cost of ambition.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Iga Korneta
• Release date: Mar 17, 2025
• ISBN: 9798230443773

Iga Korneta

Iga Korneta, Ph.D. is a debut fantasy author from Warsaw, Poland. Once an incidental fan fiction writer, Iga now channels her vivid imagination into original storytelling that weaves enchanting worlds with intricate detail. A graduate in molecular biology with a career in data science, her studies and her professional direction provide a unique perspective that enriches the mystical elements of her narratives with a solid scientific background. Whether exploring mythical landscapes or real-world challenges, Iga's passion for discovery shines through her work.

Book preview

Chapter 1

Aushra Żmij, opined Jean-François du Plessis de Richelieu, is childish, immature and thoroughly unpleasant to deal with. Unfortunately for us, she is also a genius.

His nephew raised his eyebrows as he scanned the photos on the table. The thirtyish human woman was short, overweight, bespectacled; her hair was dyed an attention-calling purple. Really, he noted.

Jean-François looked to him. She is a wizard, he explained curtly. A female wizard. She is capable of calling upon sixth-state magic.

The conversation had become interesting. He looked to the photos once again. The woman on them still did not appear to be anything but maddeningly mediocre, though appearances could, admittedly, at times, be deceiving. Really, he repeated.

His uncle nodded. Yes. And she wants to learn how to call upon the seventh. She will need an escort to keep her out of danger while she seeks her way to do it. This will be you, Jean-Armand.

***

Babysitting!

He gritted his teeth silently. Babysitting. Jean-François had recalled him from the rare earth mining operations that had brought the family millions, to do this... babysitting.

He forced himself to calm down. His uncle was, if anything, a rational man. He had steered the bloodline business for more than thirty years with very many successes, and very few failures, to his name. If he considered this operation to be more advantageous to the family than the rare earth mines, then it only behoved Jean-Armand to heed him.

The wizard had retired to her family home after getting herself discharged from her duties at the university, he had been informed; feeling the familiar weight of the gun by his side, he now rang the bell of the dwelling, a modest, one-family affair in a thirty-thousand-humans town. The contradiction struck him: it did not seem like the kind of house that the most powerful wizard in the world should come from. It did not seem like the kind of house that anyone interesting would ever come from.

The door opened. An older, unkempt woman with white hair. She eyed him angrily. She is in the garden, she said, nodding to the left. He took the nod as both a direction and a licence to proceed, and followed.

The garden was kept barely better than its owner. Grass mowed short, yes; but also raggedy shrubbery; a mere effort at some low fruit-bearing trees; and a huge dump of dry vegetal matter in one of the corners. He espied a chequered blanket in the shade of the tallest cherry tree, and a prone figure upon it.

The wizard was lying curled up into an almost foetal circle; by her arms and face there lay a tabby cat, an adult female or a neutered male. The cat had awakened, and was now looking at him in a hostile manner.

He took one more step towards the sleeping woman.

The cat stood up, and, almost demonstratively, stretched and yawned, extending its claws and displaying the full complement of its sharp fangs.

The woman stirred in her sleep. Urchin? she asked, feeling around where the cat had been. Where are you? She reached out for her glasses, which, he now noticed, were lying in between the grass. Urchin?

The cat looked at him knowingly, and bumped the woman’s head with its own.

Ow, Aushra Żmij said, and woke up. She reached to pet the cat. Urchin, you silly creature. It bit her hand in a friendly manner.

Then, without looking up or changing her tone, the wizard asked, You’re from Jean-François, aren’t you?

***

Caught up in the antics of the woman and her cat, he almost failed to answer in time. Yes, he said, from his position towering above the woman lying on the ground. I am his nephew. Jean-Armand.

Now, the woman looked at him. Her eyebrows rose. Jean-Armand du Plessis de Richelieu, she said, thoughtfully. Then, she laughed. I must be really precious to him, if he sends his nephew himself here.

He refused to comment.

The woman cocked her head, examining him with