CHAPTER NINETEEN #3
Deckard glanced at Evylin, catching the way her jaw tightened.
“That would be our assumption,” Auden confirmed. “It’s why they both aged at a natural rate as well. Without knowledge of their power, it was like an old pair of shoes at the back of a wardrobe, unused and forgotten. But direct contact with magic sparks awareness of the resources themselves.”
Ethenn fidgeted with one of his knives, flipping it end over end through the air.
“Then . . .” he began thoughtfully, “is it possible to use magic without knowing it? Like you said before, Evie and Hewitt experienced that—that sensation when they fought. That was magic, right? But they didn’t realize it. ”
“Exactly,” Auden said. “Warriors are particularly notorious for this. While all magic is innate, theirs is even more so than Mages’. It’s tied to their physical form, affecting their mind and body. Whereas a Mage’s power is more abstract, so it requires a more intentional effort.”
“Sounds like more work,” Rafferty said with a tinge of disappointment.
“It is,” Ilain said. “Magic requires focus, Warrior or Mage. But as the Warriors’ magic is so intrinsically tied to their physical person, it is easier to tap into.
A Mage can only access their magic through the resources.
That kind of deep focus is highly conscious.
You have to know what you’re trying to do in order to do it. ”
“So how do I know what resource to choose?” Deckard asked. “If I have to make a deliberate connection, how am I supposed to make an uneducated choice?”
“That’s the point of the test,” Ilain said, a sparkle in her eyes.
“I hold out a flame, representing the elements, and Auden will hold out a flare of light, representing the existents. Then we overwhelm you with magic until your instinct overrides your reason, and you connect to the resource that calls to you the most.”
Deckard’s stomach clenched around the hare stew he’d eaten. He set his bowl aside. “What do you mean by overwhelming me with magic?”
“It isn’t as thrilling as it sounds,” Auden assured him. “We surround you with our magic while you tap into your focus and let the magic guide you to a choice. Simple as that.”
Deckard didn’t think it sounded so simple. “And what if nothing happens?”
“Something will happen,” Ilain said, adjusting her skirts. “How long it takes depends on how well you focus.”
Scanning the troop, Deckard caught the expectant looks on their faces. Even Thom, sitting next to Ilain, looked more intrigued than annoyed for the first time since they’d discovered Deckard’s connection to magic.
With a sigh, Deckard sat up straighter. “All right,” he said. “Let’s get this over with.”
“Don’t sound so excited,” Ilain teased. “It’s only one of the most important days of your life.”
Without waiting for his response, Ilain turned to Auden. “Shall we?”
Auden dipped his chin, but his expression radiated caution. “Carefully,” he said. “Jonn’s power is unknown, and it’s been repressed for over thirty years. It’s bound to erupt if we push him too hard.”
Ilain rose unceremoniously. “He’s not a volcano, Auden. He’ll be fine.”
Ethenn leaned toward Rafferty, whispering, “What’s a volcano?”
“An exploding mountain,” the weasel said. “I’ve heard the Keves Island has one.”
Ethenn frowned, clearly confused by the concept.
“Move, Rafferty,” Ilain instructed as she and Auden came to stand in front of Deckard. “You’re in the way.”
Screwing up his face, Rafferty grumbled as he obeyed. “What about Eve? She’s right next to him.”
“As she should be,” Ilain said.
Deckard and Evylin frowned.
“What? ’Cause they’re married?” Rafferty asked.
“Only partially for that reason,” Auden said. “As we said last night, Warriors and Mages are meant to be a team. They can aid one another, lending their focus.” He turned to Evylin then. “If you tap into your magic while Jonn works to access his, it will help speed up the process.”
Though she tugged on her rings, Evylin accepted the task.
Deckard could feel her tension as she sat at his side. She hadn’t so much chosen her seat for dinner as it’d been the only one that remained. It was evident by her uncomfortable posture throughout the meal and into the present moment that she wished she could escape with Rafferty.
Deckard worked not to take offense at the small rejection. “Shouldn’t I do it on my own?” he asked. “If the power could be volatile, wouldn’t accessing it too quickly be dangerous?”
“Yes, if you didn’t have good control over it,” Ilain said, then gestured toward Evylin. “But with additional focus, your control will be stronger. Evylin’s assistance will be beneficial in more ways than one.”
Deckard and Evylin shared a reluctant look. Neither of them wanted to take part in this test. However, it seemed they didn’t have much of a choice.
He shrugged in acceptance, and Ilain dropped to her knees before them, a bright smile on her face.
“Now,” she said excitedly, “the best way to prepare your mind for connection is to focus on the resources. While focusing sounds simple, it’s anything but.
It can take years of dedication to truly prime your mind for instinctive magical use.
One way to accomplish that is by repeating the ‘Poem of Life.’ You don’t have to recite it aloud, but you should constantly replay it in your mind. ”
“From memory?” Deckard asked incredulously.
Ilain furrowed her brow in confusion. “Of course, from memory. How else would you do it?”
“You forget, milady,” Thom called, jaw tense. “We Ephrians weren’t taught that poem in primary school like you Wauldeners. It was considered sacrilegious.”
Her face scrunched even more. “It’s the foundation of our religion.”
“Not for us,” he said flatly.
Ilain huffed, then turned back. “I’ll recite it for you then. Are you ready?”
The urge to dash into the forest caused Deckard’s foot to twitch. He resettled in his seat, reminding himself there was nowhere to run. One way or another, the magic would find him, according to the Calders.
“As I’ll ever be,” Deckard said, trying to convince himself to accept his fate.
Ilain clasped her hands before her while Auden hovered in the background.
“Excellent,” she said, her melodic voice softening.
“Now, close your eyes and listen. As I recite the poem, try to visualize it in your mind. Imagine the resources, alive and tangible, right in front of you. Let the magic speak to you, and respond when it calls your name.”
Though every part of his being recoiled, Deckard gritted his teeth and closed his eyes. He didn’t know what to expect, but he shut out the world, only the dim amber haze of the campfire lighting his blacked-out view.
Slowly and lyrically, Ilain spoke. “First came Fire, the burst of Day. A tidal of Water doused the flame, Terraeus cast into the shadow of Night. Wind rolled in, a churning vortex of Time, to cool the molten Terrae. The Creator’s grandest design, forever suspended in Space.”
It sounded like a ballad, sweet and gentle—a song of devotion and adoration. Ilain repeated the poem, the words summoning a magic all their own. It swept through the air like a breeze, soft as a mother’s goodnight kiss.