| |
It had been a month since my magic training started, but there was nothing magical about it. I spent my time reading and memorizing funny-sounding spells. Vanna helped me exercise to build physical stamina, and Kirby taught me how to meditate, which, with my overthinking, obsessive personality, wasn’t easy at all.
One morning, Vanna and Kirby announced I was ready for my first test. They had me seated at their round table and started to question me. "What’s the difference between a common witch and a noble witch?" Kirby asked.
"A common witch can brew a potion or cast a basic spell by appealing to higher beings, such as spirits. "Noble witches, on the other hand, can create their own spells. They don’t need external powers as they have the magic inside them. The power of a noble witch depends on her training and her element."
"Can you explain?"
"There are five main elements noble witches use for their magic—fire, water, air, earth, and vision. Each one allows the witches to create and use different spells, all of which are superior to common magic. For example, a common witch can create a fireball, but they can’t compete with the blaze of a noble with the fire element."
"Good job, Echo. You get an A," he said.
"Yes!" I threw my fists in the air.
"Now, it’s time for the practical exam."
"P-practical? You said I get an A."
"Yeah, you read the books, but reading about magic doesn’t make you a witch. Using magic does."
"B-b-but..."
"Echo, you’re ready for this." He gave me a reassuring smile.
Surrendering, I let out a long sigh. "What do you want me to do?"
That was Vanna’s turn to speak. She approached the table and lugged one of its chairs to the corner of the room. "Move it back to where it belongs," she ordered.
"You mean with magic?" I hoped she’d be joking. She wasn’t. Her expression was as glassy as ever.
My stomach knotted. Oh, how I wanted to impress her. Standing up, I opened my palm towards the chair. My voice quivered as I recalled the object control spell I had memorized, "Per vires lucis, hoc objectum mihi pareat."
The chair didn’t budge.
I swallowed dry before I repeated. "Per vires lucis, hoc objectum mihi pareat."
I tried again and again, my stress heightening. It’s a beginner’s spell. I should have gotten it the first time. As a straight-A student, I couldn’t accept anything less than perfect. The thought of failure was humiliating. I had a lot to learn.
Beads of sweat coated my forehead, and I pressed my hand to my pounding chest. "I can’t do this. I’m not ready."
"Relax, Echo. Of course, you are," Kirby said. "You’re just looking at this the wrong way."
"What do you mean?" I yelled. "I did everything as the book said."
"Come here." Kirby reached for my hand. "Echo, why do you think we ask you to meditate every day?"
"To be calmer?"
He shook his head. "To learn to connect. Only when you quieten your mind will you see things for what they really are. If you’re looking at this chair and only seeing the wood and the nails, you’re missing the point of your training."
I narrowed my eyes in confusion.
"Look at it," he said. "Even though this chair doesn’t breathe, it’s alive. Every molecule in it is vibrating with energy that your magic can tap into. But to be able to do this, you must first communicate with the chair. Talk to it. Get to know it. The results may surprise you."
"Take your time with the test," Vanna said. "But don’t whine and say that you’re not ready. Meditate and do the work. You’re not going to make it from the first time. No one does." She turned on her heel and moseyed away, letting me dwell on my embarrassment.
What Kirby said didn’t make any sense to my rational, attorney self. But I did what he asked me to do. Every day, I spent a few hours in the morning staring at the chair, fully concentrated, asking it to talk to me. Until one day, it did. Not with words, though, but images that came into my head. The chair began to tell me its story, and I learned it was once a part of a mahogany tree in India. Before Kirby and Vanna bought it, it belonged to an old lady, who used to read Red Riding Hood to her granddaughter. I found myself wondering what happened to that lady, amazed by how connected everyone and everything was. Be that as it may, I still wasn’t able to work the spell. I know now that learning was bound to take its time.
***
"A violation of this section requires the defendant intentionally accessing a property without authorization or—" My fingers traced the word as I recited.
"Can you please keep it down?" The stranger across the table pointed at the sign: Keep quiet.
I enjoyed hanging out in the school library. It smelled of books, and it was often quiet. Given all the time I spent on my witchcraft training, I had to work twice as hard to maintain my grades. I could use the quietness.
The door squeaked open, and a petite, clumsy girl with an awkward grin entered. She bounced on her feet and roamed the room.
I pressed my hands to my temples when an abrupt headache hit, forcing me to shut my eyes.
Then I saw her.
That clumsy girl—I saw her in my mind. A bookcase fell and broke her leg.
I opened my eyes. She was standing in the middle of the room with a clueless face. After Tara’s wedding, I knew better than to underestimate a vision. So I kept an eye out for her. Not long after, she walked into the history section and began to browse. To reach a book, she stepped on the lower shelf and climbed up the bookcase, which started to fall.
I jumped to my feet, throwing my hand out. "Per vires lucis, hoc objectum mihi pareat," I chanted, although I wasn’t planning on it. Suddenly, everything around me disappeared, and I became fully aware of the bookcase. I saw energy strings enclosing it like rings around a planet. As I moved my hand, the rings spun. The bookcase hung in the air, slanted.
The girl stifled a scream when the bookcase began to move against gravity and return to its normal position.
It took me a moment to process what happened.
Did my spell really work? Did I move that bookcase? Hadn’t it been for the horror in the girl’s eyes, I would’ve thought I imagined it all.
"You okay?" I hurried to help her get down the shelf.
"Was I-I flying?" She gulped for air.
"You’re fine now," I said with a smile. "Never climb up a bookcase again."
"Never again." She nodded. "Thank you."
Everyone stared at the girl as she sat down to catch her breath. A flush crept across her cheeks. Once again, she had grabbed unwanted attention.
I thought of how I could help her. Glancing up at the book she needed, I exhaled a deep breath. "Per vires lucis, hoc objectum mihi pareat."
The book descended to my hand. It wasn’t a one-time thing. My jaws dropped. The spell worked. My heart was singing. Finally, I was ready to move the mahogany chair and pass my first test.
"Hey, is this what you wanted?" I asked, waving at the girl with the book in my hand.
"Yes. Thank you. Thank you very much." She put her hands together in gratitude.
***
Back at the apartment, Kirby and Vanna celebrated my success with a vanilla cake and a balloon. That was the start of a new tradition. Whenever I reached a milestone in my training, I earned myself a piece of cake. "Guys, this is so thoughtful."
"Congratulations, Echo," Kirby cheered. "We’re very proud of you."
"You did a good job," Vanna added.
"Yes, but it took a long time. I was worried I wouldn’t be able to do it."
"Self-doubt is inevitable," Vanna said. "Every once in a while, it’ll come up and haunt you, but if you want to accomplish anything, you’re going to have to push, push through the self-doubt, Echo."
I remained silent, stunned to sense the kindness behind Vanna’s cold features. Bitter as she was, she still cared about me.
Vanna’s advice became my life motto. I relied on it every time I learned a new spell, every time I tested my limits. Whenever self-doubt hit and quitting appealed to me, I pushed.
Two months later, when it was time for my second test, I came prepared. Kirby told me to brew a sleeping potion, which I perfected. Vanna wanted me to move a pile of pens, and I made them dance in the air.
***
"Please, tell me you’re kidding," I said. It was a cloudy autumn day when Vanna and Kirby dragged me to the wishing well at Oracles Park, my least favorite place. "I’m willing to believe in tooth fairies, but not in this."
"Just try it." Vanna handed me a silver coin.
"Whatever." I rolled my eyes. Before I thoughtlessly tossed her coin, I noticed an unusual glint. What’s that? I brought it close to inspect it. It had a drawing of a water drop with a crescent at its center.
"A noble witch?" The moon has always symbolized magic.
"The essence of a noble witch," Vanna said. "The water drop represents essence."
"What does this mean?" I looked at her with anticipation.
"It means you’re ready to receive your grimoire," Kirby cheered.
I swallowed hard. A grimoire was an inscription book created from the essence of a noble witch’s soul. With it, I would discover my element and be able to use my full powers.
After a moment of hesitation, I cast the coin into the well. The water swirled with a loud gurgling sound that soon turned into a hum. "What’s happ—" Before I could ask, I was lifted off the ground and flipped over in the air, like a lightweight unable to stand still or propel myself. The world around me seemed to warp and enlarge as if I was looking through magnifying glasses. Then I realized it was I who shrank.
"Aaaah." I was hauled into the well. It felt like falling down the stairs and hitting a hard floor—butt first.
***
I found myself in a library lacking the nostalgic scent I loved. Bookshelves circled the curved walls and extended up to the ceiling, which was inlaid with the same symbol on the coin: The essence of a noble witch.
"We're flying." Kirby watched through the lonely window in the back. The room seemed to be floating in a marvelous sky adorned with golden clouds. They were downy, like cotton candy. I wondered what it would be like to touch them.
"This is the Barag. The dimension where all grimoires are kept." Vanna shifted my attention away from the clouds and back to the mission.
"How do I find mine?" I asked with excitement.
"Let it find you." She sure liked to baffle me.
I wandered around, thinking of what to do. Stopping at the center of the room, I opened my arms out. "Show yourself, for I’m ready to meet you." That was neither a spell nor a prayer, but it was what I said. And just like that, books came down from their shelves and arranged themselves around me. My gaze flitted among them, taking in all the different sizes, colors, and textures. They all whispered my name, but only one was mine. Somehow, it stood out. It cast its magic and drew me in, and I was captivated yet alarmed.
I seized it and slid my fingers along its black, wrinkly cover, but before I opened it, Kirby yanked it from my hand. "No, Echo. Not this one!"
"What’s wrong?"
"Can’t you feel it?" He looked horrified. "This is a Dark Magic grimoire."
I flinched. The illusion crashed and a heavy thud settled into my chest as I sensed the deadly aura of the book. "Wh-why did it choose me?" I asked as I stepped away.
"This must be a mistake," Kirby turned to Vanna. "Right?"
"There’s one way to find out." Vanna took the book from him and gave it back to me. "Claim your ownership of the grimoire. If it’s made from your essence, it’ll be yours."
"Are you kidding me, Vanna?" Kirby tossed his arms out.
"Do you have a better idea?" Vanna’s glare intimidated me, but nothing felt more daunting than holding that book in my hands. A chill swept through me, sending shivers up my spine. I didn’t want to keep it, but I couldn’t argue with Vanna.
"Grimoire, I-I c-claim you mine," I uttered reluctantly.
"And so it is," the other books whispered, returning to their places.
A grimoire defined a witch’s element, but Dark Magic wasn’t one. It was magic gone twisted, hatred manifested into energy. The Barag couldn’t tell the difference. It saw power as power, virtuous or not.
***
Back at the apartment, Vanna locked the grimoire in her drawer. "Until we fix this, it shouldn’t be close to you," she said.
"I understand." My head dropped. After all the hard work, I get a grimoire that I can’t use. It had to be my fault.
"Something’s wrong here," Kirby said. "Echo is a good person. Her essence can’t be dark."
"Sooner or later, we’ll find out," Vanna replied. "For now, we’re going to alter our plan. Let’s experiment with different elements until we find one that fits Echo."
"I’m in," Kirby agreed. "This is the best thing to do now."
For two months, I followed Vanna’s new plan, hoping to get a sense of clarity, yet I wound up with more confusion. A noble witch could only master her specialty, but I seemed to get away with breaking this rule. After enough training, I learned to use all five elements on a small scale. From creating a torrid blaze to controlling the wind and the waves—I could do it all, but for a limited time. The Earth spells allowed me to transform the shapes and forms of living things. And while I didn’t know ‘how’ to use vision, what happened at the wedding and the library proved I could.
"I’m not sure how this is happening," Vanna told me. "But using multiple elements does give you an edge."
"As long as you stay away from the dark grimoire, you’re fine," Kirby added. He couldn’t tell that even if we were separated, that book had me under its spell. To use Dark Magic, a witch had to sign a contract with the devils, giving their soul in return for power. In my case, I got a free pass. As far as I knew, the grimoire offered me the taste of power at no cost.
On a stormy afternoon in November, I was taking a nap on Vanna’s couch when the air slammed the window open. Wrapping a blanket around myself, I hurried to shut it, but the gust fought against me. Outside, the autumn had left Oracles Park with hues of yellow and orange. The trees swayed, obeying the howling wind. Their falling leaves scattered in the streets.
"Let me help." Kirby came from behind and tried to close the window, but the wind was stronger than he was.
Furious, I waved my hand and shut the window with magic, leaving Kirby startled.
"You seem testy today," he said.
I ignored him and sat back on the couch, poring over one of my witchcraft books and highlighting the important spells with a marker.
"What a storm," Kirby said. "Do you still have to go to your classes today?" He was trying to start a conversation.
"I wasn’t planning on going anyway," I replied.
"Aha." He scratched his scalp and sank in awkwardness.
On the table, my phone vibrated with the fifth missed call from Joe. I glanced at Vanna’s room, whose door was open. Right there, in the nightstand drawer, my dark grimoire waited. Gradually, its power unfolded within me, urging me to become stronger so I could use it. It wanted me to have it, and I wanted it to have me. That burning desire made it easier to lose myself. Joe, my family, my school, Vanna, and Kirby—none of that mattered; only magic did. I didn’t notice how my obsession grew.
But it wasn’t long before my guides intervened and pulled me back to reality. "You’re changing, Echo," Vanna said. "Magic has become your addiction. You need to remind yourself of your mission to steer your powers in the right direction."
"Vanna is right," Kirby added. "You’ve been training for months, and it’s time to take what you learned to the battlefield."
"But I’m not ready." My tone sharpened.
"We won’t know until we try," Vanna said.
That night, we drove to an abandoned building at the edge of the city. The streetlight didn’t work, so we used the flashlights on our phones. I hardly made out the broken asphalt beneath my feet.
We stood in front of a green metal door, and Kirby began to unlock it. A screech came from inside, causing my skin to fidget. It sounded like a tortured animal.
The door rattled when Kirby opened it. I walked into a vast room lit by a single yellow light bulb. Stacks of hay sat behind some rusty machines, and an overwhelming animal stink hung in the air, despite the cold breeze coming from the broken windowpane.
The screeching stopped, replaced by the sound of a grating breath, a sound I had heard before on the day of Tara’s wedding. In the corner of the room, a Kataru was chained to the wall, staring at me with its lidless eyes. It had been waiting.
