Chapter 13 Velra #2
The tomes floating behind her rotated slowly over the glowing amber circle etched into the stone floor, the volumes altering to three works specific for this subject.
She flicked her fingers and with a spark of her shadow magic, it opened and several pages turned, stilling when they got to the section that we’d all read in advance.
“If you are in this room,” she continued, her voice velvet-wrapped steel, “you are either born of shadow... or seeking to manufacture the special craft in a bid to counter such a powerful ability, or to work with it, possibly even amplify it.” She smiled.
“Shadow weaving and performing shadow architecture is not just spell craft or an ability to be mastered and controlled, it is also an art. That means that expression is a vital part of being able to wield shadow magic, something that many neglect to take into account, and something that limits both their control and their potential.”
She looked out at each of us in turn, then continued on, “With that in mind, we will not focus on mechanics or control today, we will focus on expression. Fun. Getting bogged down with specifics and heavy details can be detrimental to the learning experience, especially in the early stages—and also for those of you who have had to use your shadow magic for defensive purposes. When we approach this practice from a place of freedom of expression and fun it reduces stress and anxiety in the learning process and serves to open us up in ways that this type of magic benefits from greatly.”
Excitement thrummed through me and across the classroom in thrilled whispers, many looks of disbelief that this was the way she was taking the class. Especially the first one.
“You’re going to pull from within and create a shadow portrait or moving image, form it slowly and carefully, then ground it with a Weaving Anchor to hold it steady without disruption.
To ensure you are able to achieve the latter, your mind must be clear and steady, your focus absolute, yes, but your emotions also not in a volatile state. ”
Oh, hell. That last part wasn’t exactly my forte.
She went on, “Dark Fae, before you begin, I will teach you how to pull from a specific aspect of your illusionary magic. Sorcerers and sorceress, I will show you how to carefully create manufactured shadow magic, as you would have already studied from the required reading before the start of this class.” She looked out at Shadowmancers to my right, further down.
“You may begin immediately.” Her gaze flicked to me and Sylas. “You also.”
As the professor had the Dark Fae and the Sorcerers and Sorceresses gather around, the Shadowmancers rose to their feet and began, shadows already forming and swirling from the group of the four of them in moments.
I swallowed hard and stood, noting that Sylas was being unusually quiet and he didn’t even rise until I had, shaking off his hooded coat to reveal a black tee beneath.
He was being very careful with me since that talk earlier.
Was that how I made people feel around me?
I guess with Lazriel in The Fade, he’d been that way with me until we’d sunk into one another’s company, and then that had faded away—pun intended.
But then I’d freaked out when I’d lost control of my power after we’d gotten carnal.
Sylas obviously knew about it, and now this… this carefulness… was where we were at.
I didn’t like it.
I mean, I did appreciate it. It was sweet and thoughtful, tender even. Especially for somebody as formidable and unapologetic and just out-there as Sylas Morgrave was known for being.
But it made me feel… like it was necessary, I guess. And like it wasn’t actually fully real. Like he was toning himself down because of the way I was. Maybe even stifling himself.
That had to be how Lazriel felt toward me now. Fuck, after all that progress we’d made during our special date before it had all gone to hell because of me… because of my fucking damage and—
“Velra?”
I blinked to see Sylas staring at me with equal parts concern and intrigue.
In one heady second, I realized why.
I was gripping the edge of the desk and my frost had leaked out and spread to two-thirds of it.
I cursed and started panicking, shifting between the frost and checking the room to see if anyone had noticed.
But then Sylas had me sucking in a ragged breath and cutting right through that panic before it could escalate to an uncontrollable level as he grasped my chin firmly, but gently.
His eyes were flaming crimson as he used the grounding hold to guide my gaze to his. “Watch the desk.”
I did.
I just did it.
Whether it was his tone, his supporting, reassuring touch, I didn’t know.
As I looked down at the desk, he pressed his other hand to it, his palm glowing with his power.
And then I observed in absolute awe as he didn’t melt my frost or anything, but drew it to him instead, pulling it along, drawing it from the surface of the desk and toward his fingers.
It glided up his fingers, the frost spreading up his arm.
He didn’t flinch or show any sign of pain whatsoever.
In fact, I saw his eyes roll back in his head, as it all left the table and covered his arm entirely.
That wasn’t the end of it.
The frost then began seeping into his skin.
It went on and on, permeating deeper, until it was full absorbed, his red magical glow then snuffing out once all the frost disappeared from view.
He released my jaw and smiled at me. “Your Wraith Frost is soul-targeting and death-aligned. As a necromantic being, my energy reads as death-aligned also. Think of your frost like a spiritual predator—it knows I’m not prey.”
“It doesn’t hurt you.”
“Not in the least, little Wraith. In fact, it’s a bit of a rush, to be honest.”
“I can’t… I can’t hurt you if I lose control.”
“Correct.”
Before I could even begin to process that, he leaned in, the closeness coupled with the heady intensity of what had just happened, making me suck in a harsh breath. The scent of… cedar… or something like it infused me.
“It’s bergamot.”
My eyes locked on his. “What?”
“That’s my scent. Interesting that you’re actually scenting me—although not in the way a certain wolf-vampire hybrid is fond of doing. More than he realizes I’m aware of.”
“Son of a bitch,” I said, pulling away. “That’s not what I—shut up.”
He grinned. “Before you took to breathing me in, I was going to warn you that the professor is looking our way now and clearly wondering why we haven’t begun to generate our shadow portraits. Best get on that, yes?”
I startled and glanced out at the classroom.
Everyone was already in different stages of the assignment.
The Shadowmancers had already created theirs—floating shadow butterflies, a duck, a bird, and even a tiger.
The Dark Fae and other magic-wielders were still working on producing their shadows steadily. Only Kelsana had managed to actually make a shape with hers and it was a puffy heart that she was drawing Rennick’s attention to and making him smile, even as he struggled with his shadow creation.
I steadied myself and settled a couple of steps back from my desk and concentrated, while Sylas eased away to give me space and to complete his assignment as well.
I closed my eyes to gain better control and block out all the rest, other distractions, focusing on what Professor Selix Nyvarra had said about using this to express ourselves, to create freely—and with fun.
I felt my shadows pour forth, growing stronger, twisting and growing into shapes as I drew on the creative freedom we’d been given and dug deep into the heart of me. Or what I hoped was the heart of me.
I smiled to myself as all that power emanated and I didn’t feel a strain. It wasn’t hard to control or overwhelming. That was why she’d set the class this specific task—to take the edge and the pressure off
Well, it had certainly worked.
I opened one eye cautiously but didn’t look at what I was creating yet.
I looked out at what Sylas was doing.
Whoa.
Crimson and black shadows were swirling as he wove his hands back and forth and created a spectacular—and somehow shimmering in an otherworldly way—giant rose that stretched up to about six-feet in height and at least four feet in width.
It was absolutely stunning. So intricate and detailed. So pretty too.
I loved roses. They came in so many different shapes, sizes, and colors. More than that, they were tough, badass bitches who protected their beauty and softness with thorns.
Although, when they didn’t want that protection anymore… they couldn’t take those thorns away, could they? They were just stuck with them, I guess.
He caught me looking and his gaze flicked to me with a wry grin. “They’re my favorite flower.”
What? Sylas Morgrave had a favorite flower?
I didn’t get to further that highly interesting revelation, as his grin slipped in the next moment when he looked at my magic, what I’d conjured with my shadows.
What was—
I finally looked at it as well.
Oh no.
I’d created a cage of thorns. As if that wasn’t enough, there were two shadow form beings within twisting, writhing, and convulsing within and fighting to escape what wasn’t possible with the way I’d formed the thorned cage coiling around them.
A couple of gasps sounded and I looked out to see one of the Shadowmancers—a guy with long silver hair in a metallic tank and jeans—looking on in a whole lot of shock. Another was Kelsana who looked… worried. I jolted as she offered me a smile—a kind smile, it looked like. What was happening?
This entire class had been one hell of a mind-fuck.
I went to call my shadows back and destroy my creation, but then the professor swept in front of me, standing opposite me with the creation between us.
“This is intricate work, Velra. Highly impressive. Your skill with creating such complicated weaving architecture is unheard of in one so young and only a mere handful of years into your abilities.”
She knew my backstory. It was clear with the way she was phrasing everything.
I was wielding natural shadow magic, but I hadn’t been born into it naturally.
“But I… look at it… it’s disturbing.”
“It certainly isn’t all sunshine and rainbows. Yet, that doesn’t detract from the skill. And it also reveals something important.” She smiled. “Come to me after class. We’ll talk.”
I swallowed hard. “Okay, yeah.”
I stared after her as she swept away to assist one of the sorceresses who was having trouble moving their manufactured shadows around.
Huh.
Sylas gave me a wink as he left the class, following out after all the others had already left. It seemed like he wanted to stay with me, but I saw the professor wave him away.
He closed the door behind him and took off down the corridor outside.
And then I stood opposite the professor’s desk as she sank down into one of the comfy chairs that was the same as the ones provided to the students.
“I’m going to give you an additional assignment,” she announced.
“On top of the four sections we need to read and experiment with?”
Her lips quirked. “Yes. On top of that. I don’t doubt that somebody with your conscientiousness and drive can handle it with ease—and grace.”
I couldn’t help smiling at that—the way she had about her. Firm but disarming at the same time. “I can,” I admitted.
“Excellent. So, what I wish you to do is to just play with your shadow magic. You are used to using it for defensiveness, for battle, for a purpose, and often a purpose with high stakes. For this assignment, you will only use it for fun, for pleasure. Weave your shadows through the trees and allow yourself to feel the serenity of such an act, to identify the beauty in it, the simplicity. Have your shadows dance under the morning light. Create amusing shapes to spark a laugh or two.”
“I… why?”
“Your intensity, the way you’ve unfortunately had to use your shadow magic as survival, is causing a blockage and a build-up, which will have you imploding under any emotional distress or even mild upset.
You need to let it out, feel attuned to this ability, have some honest to goodness fun with it.
Reframe how you use it, expand how you use it in a more positive way. ”
She rose from the seat already and swept around to me. “You’ll report back to me next class, and we’ll take it from there.”
“Thank you.”
She laid her hand on my shoulder. “In case you were concerned, this is not obvious to others. Just to me—and Sylas.” She rolled her eyes at that.
“Because I was taught to use my magic as you have been—to defend, under duress, under fear. I understand the struggle.” She smiled.
“You are free now and I will help you how I wish I had been to actually feel that freedom. At least with the shadow magic aspect. The rest will come in time.”
She was taking me under her wing, helping me beyond the actual scope of the class.
“I really appreciate this.”
“It is my true pleasure.”
With that, she dematerialized in a swirl of shadows, much like the way she’d first arrived in class earlier.
Wow.