I wonder around, my gaze shifting from side to side. It’s not just a secret room. It’s an entire secret wing of the library, and there are so many more grimoires here, and all kinds of ancient lore books.
My fingers tiptoe along the spines of the lore books as I peruse the titles. Soul Shadow. Manual of Dragon Souls. Doombringer, Crusader of the Conquered. Promise of Eternal Sorrow. Tome of Hellish Torment.
What in the world? No wonder these aren’t out for the students to stumble upon and find!
I turn down another bookcase. Dream Song. Enchanted Lexicon of Arcane Magic. Rules and Stipulations for the Arcane. Hope of the Arcane. Scroll of the Chaotic Magic Known as Arcane.
Hmm. Some of my mentors have mentioned arcane, but it hadn't gone unnoticed that when they divided us based on our magical aptitudes, no one was shuffled into a group for the arcane. Other than talking about arcane magic on the first day of classes, my mentors have avoided talking about it. Why? Because it’s so powerful? Is it that rare?
Beyond intrigued, I grab the scroll. Chaotic magic sounds like fun.
Arcane magic is a blend of magical powers that only the strongest of witches can even dream of hoping to attempt. Centered on one’s psychic’s abilities, one who masters arcane magic can learn not only how to manipulate minds and people but also matter itself to the point of creating something out of nothing.
A ball of arcane magic is stronger than fire, water, wind, or earth. It is the most powerful element in the world as it is pure energy itself.
I flip the scroll over, scanning for something more meaningful, something more applicable.
To produce a ball of arcane magic, one must connect with their mind. The connection of one’s mind and their magic is all that is needed to produce a spark, but the connection must be absolute. The connection must draw on one’s mental prowess as well as their magical might. For most witches, magic comes only from their soul. Arcane comes from the mind, body, and soul, requiring everything the witch has and more. It is not for the faint of heart.
Not for the faint of heart, huh? I’m not faint.
I stare at my hand, seeing all of the lines, the creases. With a smile, I recall capturing the leather strap, the feel of it in my palm. Closing my eyes, I tap into the feeling of the wind, of water, of fire… but I don’t bring any of them forth. No. I concentrate on the magic itself.
And then… I open my mind. The possibility that I had magic never occurred to me despite the multitude of strange things that happened to me. Why not? Why didn’t I think about the existence of magic? I scoffed every time someone mentioned a witch from popular culture? And why didn’t Valerie think I was a witch?
Had someone tried to suppress that within me? If so, my magic proved too strong to be contained. My mind broke through, and Logan found me, and here I am, using my magic.
Using my body.
Using my mind.
Devoting my whole self and soul into this venture.
Even though my eyes remain closed, I can see the spark. It’s a bright blue, electric, a spark of lightning almost, and I open my eyes.
Only it’s not just a spark after all. It’s an entire ball of arcane energy hovering a few inches above my hands, larger than the balls of water and fire Gunnar Trevil, my tutor produced.
Arcane magic is supposed to be incredibly powerful. It isn’t supposed to be easy, yet honestly, it didn’t take that much effort on my part to produce this ball. In fact, in some ways, it felt easier and even more natural than when I try to use wind.
What does this mean?
As much as I want to read anything and everything on arcane magic, I put the scroll away, return to the black pit that had once been the fireplace, walk through it feeling the cold and then heat again, and leave the library. Yes, it’s locked, but I unlock it and then lock it behind me.
Feelings of confusion and anxiety keep me tossing all night long, and I’m out of bed the moment the sun starts to rise. I’m dressed and ready and out the door in minutes, and I rush to Intro to Magic 101.
Mentor Le Rogue typically is there early, and she is today. Even luckier for me, no one else is here yet.
She appraises me as I approach, and it’s only now that I worry that confessing what happened might land me in trouble. I am still on probation, and arcane magic most definitely isn’t allowed while on probation.
“What is it, Mirella? What is on your mind? Gunnar Trevil is a capable tutor, so I suspect you are not here to see me about him?”
"Oh, he's fine. I think I'll learn a lot from him. That's not… I… I go to the library a lot and read as much as I can, and there was a kelpie, and the fireplace turned into a maw, and I went inside, and I found all of these books on arcane magic."
The mentor merely listens to my rambling without blinking, her expression blank. I hate that. I don’t like not being able to know what she’s thinking.
Arcane magic… it’s all about my mind but also other’s too, right? Maybe one day, I will be able to read thoughts. Not that I want to. No. Wait. Mind reading falls under mysticism, so the arcane version would be… to implant thoughts into someone else’s mind maybe? That’s even more of an invasion of privacy!
“Do go on,” the mentor says dryly, her gaze penetrating, as if she’s trying to read my mind.
“I read a scroll about arcane magic, and it said how to make a spark of arcane energy, and I did. Not a spark, though, a ball of it.” I hold out a palm and hold my fist above it, staring at my hands for a moment before looking up at her.
Mentor Le Rogue eyes me with surprise. By now, we aren’t alone anymore, so I’m not at all surprised when she says, “Come see me after your last class today.”
"I will." I nod and retreat a step. "Umm… I'm not in trouble, am I? I didn't mean to unlock it or unleash the kelpie. And I felt like strings were pulling me into the fireplace maw. I was drawn to the place, and I didn’t mean to… Well, I was trying to make the spark, and I know I’m on probation, but—”
“Mirella, take your seat.”
“Yes, Mentor Le Rogue.” I turn to comply.
“Oh, and, Mirella?”
I face her again.
“Kelpies are fanciful, potentially violent creatures. I am glad you survived.”
"So it wasn't an illusion or an enchantment? There really was a kelpie there?"
She doesn’t answer, and I have no choice but to go to my seat.
Throughout the class, she seems to make a point of ignoring me. That doesn’t matter to me, and it’s not until I’m heading for her office that I realize I’m going to be late for my tutoring sessions. I quickly message my tutors to explain that I’ll be a little late because a mentor wants to talk to me. As soon as I hit send, I realize they’re going to think I’m in trouble. Oh, well. That might not be far from the truth.
Mentor Le Rogue sits in her office. As soon as she waves me inside, I somehow get the feeling that I walked into a tent with a psychic, you know, the kind with a crystal ball.
“Sit please,” the mentor says, leaning forward. She grips my wrist and turns my palm up, her fingers tracing along my lines.
“You’re reading my palm?”
“Isn’t that what it looks like, child?” she asks, sounding more distracted than annoyed. “You don’t know who your parents are, do you?”
“Are?” I sit up straighter. “You can see who they are? They’re alive?”
Slowly, she returns my hand to my lap and pats my arm. “I’m afraid they are very much deceased,” she murmurs.
I swallow hard, my throat dry. I don’t even attempt to say anything and just nod.
“Cyrus and Asha Sharpe,” she murmurs. “They were your parents, and they were some of the last arcane magic users in the entire world. Arcane magic, as you might have read in that section of the library you are not permitted to have access to just yet…” She pauses to eye me and even wags a finger. “Arcane magic is the strongest of any kind of particular magic a witch can wield.”
“Cyrus,” I repeat in a soft whisper, the name hardly audible. “Asha. Sharpe? I never knew my last name.”
“Yes, dear. Mirella Sharpe. I must admit I wondered about you from the moment you walked in, but I wasn’t certain, and it’s not my place to pry into my student’s lives.”
“Is that why you gave me that aptitude test?”
She purses her lips, faint lines appearing, and then nods. “A good number of witches can only use one of the ten kinds of magic, but we already know you can do several.”
“Yay me,” I mumble. I’m baffled to learn about my parents, but I can barely talk, let alone get out a question, and the mentor is stuck on magic yet. Of course she is, being the mentor for Intro to Magic 101.
“I can do three different kinds of magic myself,” Mentor Le Rogue adds as if I haven’t spoken. “I can—”
“What happened to my parents?” I manage to whisper.
“I beg your pardon?”
“What happened to my parents?” I repeat louder this time.
“They died.”
“You said that already,” I say, trying to hide my frustration. “How?”
“I can’t see everything,” the mentor says gently.
"So you don't know?" My shoulders slump. I assumed my parents had died, but I'm disappointed. I want to learn more. Had they been hunters? Had they died bringing down one of the evilest paranormal creatures ever? Or was it something mundane that brought down two arcane witches? Cancer, an accident, a sickness of some kind…
Maybe one day I’ll find out, but for now, at least I know their names and also my last name, even if I feel abandoned by them all over again.