How Much Magic Is There?

“How much magic is there?” in a given fantasy world? This is a question that has answers in multiple dimensions which are only partly interrelated. As an attempt at a breakdown:

What proportion of the population can cast spells or otherwise “do” magic?

The ability to cast spells or otherwise “do” magic can be a rare gift, talent or skill, or it can be a common one. Or it can be universal or nearly so: E.g. 1st and 2nd ed RuneQuest “spirit magic” that anyone can learn and that practically everyone does learn. Or the “magic” can be very very simple: In real life, anyone can nail a horseshoe over a barn door or throw a pinch of salt over their shoulder. In a fantasy world, these things can have real (if minor) magical effects.

(A sidenote: One of the most common forms of ‘folkloric’ magic seems to be magic specifically directed against magical beings. E.g. wearing your clothes turned inside-out makes you invisible to the fay folk but not to ordinary people. Or spitting on an arrowhead to negate a magical beastie’s immunity to arrows. A game example might be “disbelieving illusions.” Generally, you don’t have to be specially talented/gifted/skilled in magic to do these things.)

One can make a distinction between “mundane magic” that’s too weak to count and “real magic” usable only by “real magic users.” By analogy, the US has universal literacy, but not everyone is a “writer.” Which brings us to the next question:

How common are “powerful” magic users compared to “weak” ones?

The magic-user population can form a pyramid, with many ‘hedge wizards’ for every master mage. Or it can be a more even distribution with relatively few weak wizards for each strong one. Or there can be a ‘population inversion’ of power, where powerful wizards exist but weak ones don’t. This last version feels unnatural and counter-intuitive and calls for some in-world explanation (E.g. weak/beginner mages must either grow powerful or die.)

Then there’s the question of what “powerful” means:

What is the absolute level of magic power in the world?

Moving a megalith by magic from Ireland to England might be a once-in-a-lifetime feat by the greatest wizard in a thousand years. Or it might be something that happens once a year, or once a month. Likewise transforming a cat into a dog might be something only a Great Mage can do, or it might be the regular test for an apprentice to graduate. A magical “fireball” might be the size of a fist or the size of a room. It might scorch a man if it hits, or it might burn right through him.

Of course fire magic might be especially weak or hard to do in a given fantasy world, which brings up the next question:

What is magic especially good at or especially bad at?

In some worlds, magic is the “power cosmic” - it can do anything, and it can do it better than any other method. In other worlds, magic has strange limitations, or a specific “flavor.” In 2nd edition RuneQuest, for example, there’s an explanation that the gods prefer to work with energy rather than with matter, and to work with magical energy rather than with other kinds.

Likewise, one fantasy world may have magic slanted to mind or emotion-affecting spells, with the production of physical effects being difficult or impossible. Another might be the opposite: lightning bolts and magical walls are easy to conjure, but mind-control is difficult or impossible.

How easy is it to preform weak magics compared to strong ones?

Classic D&D has a lower limit on how weak spells can be: It is at least as hard (if not harder) to cast a ‘bic-flick’ level candle-lighting spell as it is to cast Burning Hands. A lot of gamers didn’t like this, and ‘cantrips’ were developed as an attempt to ‘fix’ it. Some gamers don’t think this went far enough, and prefer variants and systems where one can easily cast really weak magics.

On the other hand, there is something to be said for making a strong break between mages and non-mages via a minimum ‘up front’ investment for using magic. On the third hand, this result tends to feel unnatural and counter-intuitive, similar to the way having powerful mages but not weak ones.

One variant might be to limit common, weak magic to a purely defensive ‘anti-magic’ role: Magics affecting the magical are common, and easy enough for anyone to preform; magics affecting the mundane have to have power, skill, and talent behind them.

Another variant might be to make weak magics easy for those who know the strong magics, but hard or impossible for those who don’t. Thus trained and talented mages can do trivial stuff with magic, but Joe Peasant and John, Lord Doe cannot. This has the advantage of making mages ‘cooler’ while adding little to their gross power.

Finally:

How easy is it to share the fruits of magic?

The easier it is to share magic, the more commonplace it becomes. This is related to how many mages there are and to how easy it is for them to use magic. These things make it easier to find a mage willing to cast a spell for oneself. It can be partly mitigated by the nature of magic: If healing magic only works on the caster, or on other mages, then healing magic will be less commonplace than if it will work on anyone.

Commonplace magic risks becoming boring, but there is also a danger to making magic rare in an attempt to make it wondrous. Magic must be witnessed to seem wondrous; magic so rare as to never be noticed becomes completely mundane.

As an example, consider Merlin’s transport of Stonehenge to England. If the PCs (or protagonists in read-only fiction) personally witness this, it is most wondrous. If they hear about it but don’t witness it personally, the sense of wonder depends on how reliable the reports seem to the characters. The more mythical the event, the less wondrous it seems.