Bureaucracy in the Fae Ward moves with the pace of a paralyzed sloth, leaving with an itchy feeling between my shoulder blades, as if staying here is the worst decision I've ever made.
Selene spends most of her ti slinking around the Fae Ward, finding pockets of space with less wards to sneeze over. Vanessa and Marcus stick with , with Vanessa sharing my bedroom.
Our first lesson doesn't happen for three days. Why?
Application for Unlicensed Magus to Practice Dangerous Magic Within Residential Areas.
It's an actual title of a piece of paperwork Magister Orion had to file. Apparently, new wizards (though the official Fae-paperwork term is magus, unknown origin) are deed a deadly force. Whoever runs this place has a serious stick up their butt about learning magic.
"I don't like it," Vanessa says, staring out the window. "They'll have your na on official paperwork. We have no idea how deep Renard's influence lies."
"It's only within the Fae Ward," I point out, like I have the other thirty tis she's ntioned it. "If they're going to find here, the paperwork won't be the only reason."
Marcus, of course, is quiet. We already know how he feels. He hates it and doesn't trust the paperwork, either.
Not that I disagree with either of them—it's just that, like them, I feel stuck.
It doesn't help that I've been unable to reach Lucas for three days. Knowing that they're fighting over there, not knowing the full details…
The stress has all of us on edge.
"Have you made any progress?" Vanessa changes the subject to sit on the bed beside , where I'm surrounded by five papers with different runes written on them. Unlike the magic book I'm still kicking myself over for leaving in my room at the lodge, these runes don't disappear, and Vanessa and Marcus are able to see them.
"No. Nothing." Frustrated, I grab the different papers, looking them over again and again. There's nothing that happens when I touch them; no tingle or buzz within my fingertips. I can't feel anything. It's just a paper.
Magister Orion, grumbling about red tape, gave these five papers and told to find the elents within that correspond to them. With such vague instructions, it's no surprise I've had no success.
No matter how I try to commune with a single elent within , nothing happens.
"Try ditation," Marcus advises, grimacing at the papers before . "It helps with fighting. Learning to center, to focus only on what matters. Maybe you're too in tune with the world around you."
Giving him a dubious look—it's not like I haven't tried that before—I grab the one that ans fire, close my eyes, and focus deep within.
I let out a slow breath as I center myself. The sounds and scents of the world fade away, leaving only the sensation of my own body, its thudding heartbeat vibrating through my chest, and the pulsing core of magic within . It's there, bright and tantalizing, just out of reach.
Focusing on that core, that energy that warms from within, I imagine myself reaching out to touch it. Nothing happens. I try to visualize tugging at it, like pulling on a string, but it remains stubbornly distant. Knocking on it in my mind yields no response either.
Frustration bubbles up inside . How am I supposed to access this power if nothing works? Taking another deep breath, I force myself to relax. Maybe I'm trying too hard.
In the silence of my ditation, my thoughts drift to the rune for fire sitting on the paper in front of . Fire. Destructive, passionate, life-giving. I think about its properties—how it consus, how it transforms, how it burns.
Burning.
A mory surfaces, unbidden. Not a mory of this life, but of another. A dream? A vision? Whatever it was, it feels as real as anything I've experienced.
Pain. Searing, scorching pain that raged through every fiber of my being. I couldn't move, couldn't scream, couldn't see. There was nothing but the all-consuming agony of flesh lting from bone.
My breath catches in my throat as the phantom sensations wash over . I want to pull away from the mory, to escape the tornt, but sothing holds there. This is important. This matters.
In that other life, that other death, I was nothing. Only pain. No na, no self, just pure sensation. And in that mont of complete dissolution, sothing else erged. Sothing primal and powerful.
I focus on that feeling, on the mory of being unmade by fire. The bright core of magic within pulses in response, as if recognizing a kindred spirit. For the first ti, I feel a connection to that power.
It's not about reaching or grasping or forcing. It's about becoming. About letting go of who I think I am and embracing sothing deeper, more elental.
My mind opens to fire and the magic surges forward, no longer held back by my attempts to control it. It flows through , around , filling every part of my being with warmth and light.
My eyes snap open. The paper with the fire rune is floating an inch above the bed, glowing with an inner light. As I watch, stunned, it bursts into fla, consud in seconds and leaving nothing but a faint wisp of smoke.
"Holy shit," I whisper, staring at the empty space where the paper used to be.
Vanessa jumps up from beside , her eyes wide. "Ava? What just happened? Did you do it?"
It's a silly question. We all know.
But I can't bla her for asking, because hell, I'm thinking the sa thing. Was that ? Did I do that?
I look at her, then at Marcus who's rushed over from his position by the window. A giddy laugh bubbles up from my chest. "I did it. I actually did it!"
The elation is short-lived as the reality of what just occurred sinks in. I destroyed one of the runes Magister Orion gave . More importantly, I accessed my magic for the first ti on purpose—and I have no idea how to control it.
"We should probably tell Magister Orion," I say, my limbs shaking, as if using that tiny amount of power sucked the life from my body.
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