Just a wee bit of fiction based on the RPG Pathfinder, written as an exercise in imagining spell preparation from the perspective of a magus or wizard using a spell book. More exercises in imagining game mechanics through the eyes of a character may or may not be coming. Critique is welcome.
Tizen settled down cross legged, his back against a tree. It was just after dawn, and a glance around the camp showed that the others were engaging in their morning routines to get ready for the day. Sarlan, the cleric, was facing the rising sun, holy symbol held before him as he prayed to his god, requesting his spells for the day. Shawna, a powerful psychic warrior, knelt in front of the dying embers of last night's campfire, meditating to replenish her psionic energy. Once she was done, she would begin her stretches and excercises for the more physical side of her art. And Speckle was up in the trees, watching everything, and keeping an eye out for trouble.
Tizen turned his attention to his spellbook, and opened it up in his lap. He took a deep breath, and let his vision go unfocused as he looked at the spellbook, clearing his mind as he began his own meditation to prepare his spells. The world fell away as he mentally wiped away the lingering dreams from his sleep, and prepared his mind to ready his spells. Though it seemed but a few moments to him, it was fifteen minutes later before he let his vision refocus on his spellbook. Now it was time to select his spells. First, Corrosive Touch. This would allow him to charge his hand with magical acid, that could then be delivered to an opponent with a touch, eating away at flesh and bone. He traced the runes of the spell with his finger, whispering the words that would lay the spell in his mind. The formula was complex, but then, even the simplest of spells had a complex formula, requiring great effort if one wished to truly memorize the spell and eliminate the need for a spellbook to reference each day.
He reached the end of the spell, or rather the end of preparing it. It was now mostly cast, thrumming in his mind, ready to be released. That release would come with the proper gestures and words used to finish the casting, most likely in the heat of battle, though perhaps also to dissolve a lock on some chest in a dungeon. It remained to be seen. Tizen continued selecting his spells that he would have for the day, preparing each in the same manner, taking just under an hour to finish them all. He left room in his mind for a couple more spells to be prepared, in case he came across a situation that could benefit from a specific spell he hadn't prepared (and assuming he would have at least 15 minutes to prepare such a spell).
He looked up at the camp, blinking away his concentration. The world tended to disappear for him when he prepared his spells. As usual, he was the last to finish his morning routine, and the others were quietly chatting.