Mentor Le Rogue gives me a slight smile. “I know coming here has been a huge adjustment for you, and learning this can’t be easy. I’m afraid…”
“Afraid?” I do not like the sound of that. My stomach twists, and I rub the back of my neck. “What’s wrong?”
“I will have to talk to the other mentors and masters before you can be cleared to study arcane magic.”
“Really?” I’m flabbergasted. “But isn’t that the entire point of coming to the academy here?”
“To study magic, of course, but arcane magic is another matter altogether. Some of its pupils, well, they have been driven mad by the magic and have had to be locked away.”
“Like in an asylum?” I shiver.
“Exactly. A few have even died using their craft. It is not a gift, not like the other branches of magic.”
“But my parents—”
“Yes, I know. You wish to follow in their footsteps, and I commend you. Your work ethic so far this semester has been tremendous. I wish all of my pupils shared in your desire to learn. Most feel as if this course is unnecessary, but it is crucial to have a solid foundation and for us to know where precisely each individual student is in their learning and development.”
I expel a breath loudly. “Am I the only student, the only witch, here to have the power of the arcane within me?”
“No, as a matter of fact, you are not. Precisely one other student shares that capability.”
“And is he allowed to study the arcane arts?” I ask.
The mentor smirks. “Mirella, I will not discuss this further with you until I have discussed this with the others.”
“May I ask you something?”
“Certainly you can ask, but that does not mean I will answer your inquiry.” She nods sagely.
“Do you think I’ll be allowed to?”
She eyes me for a long moment, her expression blank. Finally, she nods one more time.
“If you wish for any chance to be allowed to, I highly suggest you adhere strictly to your probation, and do not dare attempt to wield arcane magic again. Also, do not go to that wing of the library again. Nightly, the challenge is changed. When I tell Hata of this, and I am afraid I must, you can be certain she will increase the difficulty. She will not be pleased at all to learn that a first year bested her.”
“Oh,” I say faintly. Great. Hata won’t give me a hard time from now on when I want to study, will she?
The mentor pats my shoulder and stands. “I do believe you have tutoring sessions you are late for?”
“Yes.” I stand too. “Thank you.”
“Mirella? Thank you for coming to me.”
I shrug. “I want to learn everything I can. That includes all of my capabilities.”
“I understand. Perhaps that will be the case. Remember my warning, though. Many with this branch of magic cannot handle it and become a threat to themselves or others. A few died, but recall that only a small number of witches have this power to begin with.”
“My parents…”
“From what I read in your palm, they mastered it, but they are the few, not the rule. And…” She shakes her head, pursing her lips. “Just because they were able to does not mean the same will be the case for you.”
I nod. “Of course not. I understand that. I just want to be given a chance.”
“We shall see.”
“I will see you again once we have come to a decision.”
As it turns out, I have to wait over two weeks before Mentor Le Rogue asks me to meet her after classes again. Her expression is unreadable, and I can’t get any sense of whether I will like what she has to say or not.
I’m anxious and ready to rip my hair out by the time my last class is over. Again, I meet with Mentor Le Rogue, and again, as I enter her office, it feels like I’m at a carnival, in a tent, the walls fading away. It’s surreal but also fitting.
To my surprise, Mentor Le Rogue isn’t alone. Standing beside her is a male witch.
“Mirella Sharpe, this is Darius Devonshire. Darius, this is Mirella. You two are the only ones here with the ability to control and manipulate arcane energy.”
“Hi, Darius,” I say.
For some reason, I feel intimidated by him. He’s human, but he’s still almost a foot taller than I am, and he’s strong and robust. But it’s more than just his formidable presence that alarms me. I can somehow sense how powerful he is. He's standing there, hands behind his back, stoic and passive. It's as if nothing fazes him. His cheekbones and jawline are cut as if his face is made from stone. His eyebrows are bushy, and his brown hair is slicked back, not a single strand out of place. His uniform is crisp, without a single wrinkle. He looks more like a model than a student. I bet all the girls fawn over him, and he’s the kind to ignore them all, too worried about his studies… kinda like me, only hardly any guys are falling over themselves to talk to me, and I prefer it that way.
“Darius is a third year. The two of you will study the arcane arts together. Mirella, I have taken the liberty of contacting your tutors to ask them to shift back your sessions for the day. I hope you don’t mind.”
“No,” I murmur. “Of course not.”
“For this first session, I would like to watch.” She eyes Darius.
He nods.
Interesting. She’s asking him for permission? Certainly seems that way.
The mentor is the one to lead the way out of the office and the building, heading to one of the wide-open expanses toward the back of the campus.
Interesting. We’re going to practice out here in the open?
“Mirella,” Darius says. His eyes are a gray color. I wonder if they change when he does magic. “I heard that you can already produce a ball of arcane energy.”
“I did the first time I tried, but I only tried the one time.”
“You tried to make the ball?”
“I was just trying to create a spark,” I admit, feeling sheepish.
“Control is most important when it comes to arcane magic,” Darius says firmly.
“Yes, of course.” For a moment, I feel as if I’m being scolded, but then I’m almost annoyed. “Aren’t you going to teach me control?”
“Control comes within. Arcane magic is all about the mind. No one can temper your ability except for you.”
I grimace. “How do you control yourself?” I ask.
“It took time and practice.”
“Like everything else. All right. Do you want me to make a spark?”
“Yes. If you make a ball again, at least that can be contained. If you try to make a ball, and it becomes massive…”
“What could happen then?”
He holds his hands as if cradling a ball and then bringing his hands apart.
“Kaboom. Got it.”
I swallow hard. Again, I try to tap into my mind, into my magic, melding them together, and I can feel the energy within me, and I force it out of me.
At first, only a spark appears, but then it grows and grows and grows. A ball forms, and it expands and expands and expands…
No! I can’t have it grow any larger!
I try to reclaim some of the energy back into me, but it’s like a liquid that’s been poured out. There’s no way it’s going back into the container, meaning me.
Darius shakes his head. “Mirella—”
“I’m trying!”
The mentor purses her lips.
I don’t know what to do. I honestly don’t. I can’t figure out what to do, and if anything, the arcane ball is growing still. It’s almost as big as my head.
Drawing the arcane magic into itself, the ball becomes a little smaller, tighter, but it’s even more powerful now. I can tell, and I don’t know how to discharge it, to release it, and the magical crackling is spraying out everywhere. I’m terrified it’s going to explode, and I can’t think of anything better to do with it but send it up, up, up, high above us, and I wince and duck as it explodes. Thankfully, none of us are harmed, but…
“I guess I need more time and practice?” I try to grin but fail.
I keep at it, and soon, it's clear to all of us that I'm strong, almost too strong, and my biggest issue is learning control and restraint. Darius doesn't seem pleased with me, but the mentor says nothing, so maybe she expected all of this.
Luckily, today’s Friday, and on the weekends, I’m free. No tutoring sessions, although Darius does seem to think sessions on the weekends would be a smart idea. I beg for one weekend off, though, and Saturday morning, I force myself to sit next to a witch in some of my classes. She’s already shown great promise with potions.
“Hi, I’m—”
“Mirella. I know.” She stares at her food, some kind of bread pudding. Not the healthiest of options. I chose the raspberry tart and a strawberry one for good measure.
“You’re a real whiz at potions,” I tell her.
She smiles shyly at me. "I want to try to create new ones, but that's not something we're allowed until our second year at the earliest. Maybe even our third year."
I wave my hand. “Allowed? Only if you get caught…”
Her blue eyes widen. “Are you suggesting…”
“Experimentations should be encouraged, don’t you think?” I grin.
“Nissa," she murmurs. "Nissa Kane. But I thought you don't have an affinity for potions."
I shrug one shoulder. “Maybe I do. Maybe I don’t. I could be a late bloomer. Either way, I want to see the master at work.”
Her cheeks turn bright red, and I’m so glad I picked her out of all the potion witches in our year. She seems to be a bit of a loner, but I figured she might just be shy, and it definitely appears to be the case.
“I’m no master,” she protests.
"Not yet, you mean."
Nissa inhales her food, clearly eager to get started, and I enjoy my tarts as quickly as possible. She brings me to her cottage. No one else is in her room, and she removes a trunk from beneath her bed.
“I’ve been collecting ingredients,” she confesses.
“See? That’s something only a master would do.”
“A master wannabe,” she corrects. “Now let’s see…”
She removes each ingredient and identifies them all for me. I’m tempted to take notes, but I don’t. I don’t want to come across as too much of a nerd.
In a matter of minutes, she is adding a drop of vulture’s blood and a pinch of liquid fog and a dash of ground up crystals into the cauldron. A real cauldron. She stirs it all together.
“Um… why did you add all of those?” I ask. The concoction is bubbling, turning from red to black with blue specks suspended throughout. “Are you following a recipe?”
She laughs. “Witches follow potion formulations, not recipes.”
“Duh. Right.”
“But no. We want to try something new, right? Can you add three drops of the jamsone liquid?”
I carefully do, but one drop is the size of two, and the last kinda dribbles out.
Nissa doesn’t mind, though. She’s just continuing to stir.
“So you’re doing all of this based on your gut?” I ask.
“I prefer to say intuition.” She grins.
“And what does your, ah, intuition say about what this potion will actually do?”
“I think it will open one’s mind.”
“Really?” I’m intrigued. Maybe that will help me with my arcane magic! Of course, it might just make the connection between my mind and magic too powerful and that much harder to control…
“It has to mature for a few days,” Nissa says. She removes the spoon and drains the contents of the cauldron into several vials. “Now, what do you want to try to make?”
“I… I probably need to follow a formulation,” I mutter. “Mentor Le Rogue said the one potion I tried to wing would have killed me.”
“That’s not actually a bad thing,” Nissa says, wrinkling her nose. It’s a little on the large size, but it gives her character. “I mean, if we’re hunting someone, and they have a cerberus for a watchdog, we’re going to have to either incapacitate it or kill it too.”
I grin. “You really know how to make a person feel better about themselves.”
“I just like to find the light,” she says softly.
“But… you just talked about killing a cerberus…”
“Oh, I know. Sometimes, it’s necessary. Sometimes… I’m glad I’m training to be a hunter and not a slayer.”
I nod. I’m not quite sure of the differences between the two, but it’s pretty obvious that hunters hunt and slayers slay.
Nissa grabs a book full of potions from within the trunk. I don’t know how everything fits in there. Maybe it’s been spelled.
She flips through the pages and settles for Light in the Darkness.
“It’s one of the first potions I ever made with my grandmom,” she says with a sad smile.
“Great. You made it when you were like five, and mine is going to be more darkness than light.”
Nissa just gives me a look. “If you have that attitude, your potion will come out wrong.”
I frown and scratch the back of my head. “Really? My thoughts matter?”
“Of course. Potion making isn’t just about mixing all of the ingredients together. You know how humans talk about preparing desserts with love? Those desserts always taste better, and there’s a reason why. Love can be an actual ingredient. I think more witches can make potions than most people think, but maybe I’m wrong. I don’t know. But it’s more than just following the formulation. I know that much.”
Lacewing flies, lightning stone grated down to nothing more than a fine mist, volcanic rock chunks, deadly nightshade petals ripped to shreds, devil eye butterfly juice… I mix them all together while thinking about the sunlight, the moonlight, the stars shining like crystals…
Out of the blackest of black liquids, a crystal rises, bright and beautiful.
Awestruck, I glance at Nissa. She nods, and I pluck the crystal from the air.
“Light in the Darkness crystal,” she says with a beam. “See? You can do it!”
“But I don’t think I have your aptitude for just winging potions.”
“Maybe not. Maybe one day. Regardless, just having a formulation book will help.” She hands me hers.
“I can’t accept this.”
“Yes, you can. I have it all memorized anyhow, and if I’m going to test and play around, trying to make new potions for all witches…” Nissa grins.
I’m thrilled. Beyond thrilled. I accept the book and then hug Nissa and the book. She laughs. I laugh. I almost cry.
But I don’t stop there with Nissa and potions. I befriend other witches in the other magical disciplines—Ashia with alchemy, Oberon with mysticism, Mistral with transmutation, Medeia with spells, Barrett with illusions, and Dahlia with enchantment.
It’s so much fun to try out magic this way, without any pressure, among friends, just for fun. It’s almost trial and error. I’m only barely passable at some—I doubt I’ll ever be a spellcaster, and my illusions are pathetic at best, and I’m not sure that even time and practice will help. Others, I'm much better. Mysticism is my jam, and nailing transmutations is difficult, but I have a sense I can learn and grow with that field.
Bottom line, I’m exhausted each night when I go to bed, but I have friends here. I have tutors. My magical skills, my fighting prowess, even my riding skills are all growing. Even better, I finally feel like I’m beginning to make headway with everything.
Home. This academy is my home.