Lessons in Concentration
WREN
The suns are shining, birds are chirping, and I’m sitting outside on a blanket, my back resting against a tree trunk.
A silver coin is flat in my palm, the object of my focus.
Gabriel is sitting next to me, sharpening a sword, and Jasper is across from me.
Soren was here earlier, but he was called away.
I turn the coin over, a frown pulling on my lips as I study it.
The king’s sigil, an eagle flying in front of the twin suns, is on one side, and the other is stamped with a dagger.
Because of course it is. This wouldn’t be King Andreas’s kingdom if there weren’t constant reminders that this is a place of bloodshed and death.
“So I’m just supposed to . . . put my magic in this?” I look at Jasper, who is holding his own coin. He nods. “But . . . how?”
This is the part of my magic that has been stumping me. We’ve been out here all day, and I can’t seem to figure this out.
Of the two brothers, Jasper is far more patient, but both he and Soren have been good teachers, educating me about the basics of our magic over the past few weeks. An accelerated education, since Marked Ones who are born to the People of the Wilting Roses start learning at a young age.
Now, I have a much better grasp on summoning my magic without relying on my emotions, holding it in the palm of my hand and sensing the well of power within me.
Those lessons hadn’t been easy, but at least they had made sense. I had already had a basic understanding of how to draw up my magic thanks to the battle and all the practicing I’d done by Gabriel’s sickbed.
But this?
How does one take magic and force it into something else?
Rationally, I understand that it is possible. After all, I used blessed salve and touched the magic-infused rubies under the mountain. Both are proof it can be done.
But knowing something is possible and trying to replicate the process when less than half a year ago I didn’t even know I possessed magic, is very different.
Even though he’s sharpening his sword, I can feel Gabriel’s attention on me. I look over, and the skin around his eyes crinkles as he smiles encouragingly in my direction.
I take a deep breath, studying the coin once more. I need to do this, and quickly. I can’t help but shake the sensation that we are running out of time, that I must learn this as soon as possible.
The Giving Season is fast approaching.
“Will you show me how it’s done?” I ask.
A physical demonstration might help me wrap my mind around this, allowing me to replicate the results.
“Of course.” Jasper pinches the coin between the index finger and thumb of his right hand, brows knitting as he concentrates on it. In his left hand, navy blue sparks burst into life, forming a flame.
Last week, I asked the brothers about the color of our Marks.
Every person’s magic has a different hue, Soren had patiently explained.
They’re like fingerprints, Jasper had added. Unique to each person. No one has the same Mark as someone else.
Unique. A rainbow of colors, gifts from the gods.
Or at least, that’s what they’re meant to be. But thanks to the Harvests, that’s not the reality. Instead, we have colorful Marks that shine brightly as we die, our bodies all bleeding the same crimson hue.
Silver knives. Screams. Flashes of light. Blood.
The Given stick together.
But being Given is a curse, and I need to focus on this. On being Blessed and using my magic the way it was intended before it’s too late.
Pulling my mind away from the death that was my destiny, I focus on Jasper.
The Marked rebel brings his hands closer together, leaving a few inches between them. His flame lengthens, bridging the gap, licking the bottom of the coin.
For a few seconds, nothing seems to happen. Then he flicks his left wrist. The fire jumps from his hand, swallowing the coin, before vanishing into the object. The token shines brightly, almost pulsing, before it returns to its natural state.
“Take a look.” Jasper extends the now-silver coin towards me. “Can you feel the magic? Hear its hum?”
Placing my own coin in my lap, I take Jasper’s as Gabriel scoots closer. I roll the token through my fingers, pursing my lips. At first glance, it seems normal. Maybe a little colder than I’d expect, but not enough that holding it becomes uncomfortable.
It takes a moment, and I have to concentrate, blocking out the sounds of the forest and the camp, but I pick up a slight hum.
I flick my eyes to Jasper. “I can hear it, but it’s pretty quiet.”
Not nearly as loud as the rubies were under the mountain.
He doesn’t seem surprised. “That’s because there isn’t much magic in it. The more an object holds, the louder the hum.”
“And only the Blessed can hear it?” I confirm.
“That’s right.”
I rub the rough edges. “So the magic is it trapped in here?”
He nods.
“How does it come out?”
It never seemed to be an issue with blessed salve, but this seems different.
“I’ll show you.” Jasper reaches for the coin, and I drop it into his palm. He stands, moving a few feet away from us. I try following him, hoping to get a better look, but he shakes his head.
“You should stay back,” he warns. “Sometimes, releasing pent-up magic can be dangerous.”
“How dangerous?” Gabriel puts down his sword and places his hand on my thigh. He’s been a silent observer until now, but I don’t miss the way he angles his body between me and Jasper.
“It depends,” the rebel says evasively. “Usually, nothing happens.”
“‘Usually’?” Gabriel echoes.
Jasper swallows. “On occasion, magically charged tokens have been known to . . . explode.”
He winces as he says the last word, and for good reason. A grumble rolls through Gabriel, and he tugs me against his chest. His warmth seeps into me, anchoring me.
“If this has the potential of harming Wren, then I suggest you move much further away.” Gabriel’s voice is low and leaves no room for discussion.
He picks up his sword, drawing it closer to him, the threat clear.
“You’ve been helpful, and I would hate to have to hurt you if this stunt of yours injured her. ”
Jasper’s face drains of color, and he takes several steps back. He is not a small man, but physically, he’s no match for the Hunter. “Understood.”
I should probably be concerned, or at the very least a little put off by the fact that Gabriel is making unveiled threats towards people if they hurt me .
. . but I’m not. Instead, a dark, depraved part of me warms at the thought that he’s willing to do anything for me.
I’m sure that says something about me, but it’s something to consider at a later time.
Besides, even though Gabriel and I have continued my self-defense lessons and I’m feeling much more confident with a dagger, there’s no denying that he’s far more proficient with weapons than I am.
I can defend myself. But if he’s offering, who am I to say no?
Gabriel wraps an arm around me and nods as if he’s the one in charge. “Please, proceed.”
Jasper, for his part, seems more amused than annoyed by the Hunter’s protective antics.
Turning the coin over, he adjusts his stance.
“The most important thing to remember with these types of tokens is to aim them at the ground. The magic will release on impact. Or at least, that’s how it’s supposed to go. ”
If not, it might blow up.
The unspoken words reverberate around us, and I don’t miss Gabriel bringing me closer to his chest. Jasper takes a deep breath, runs his hand through his hair, and throws the coin towards the ground.
Time seems to slow as the magically charged token spirals towards the earth.
It slams into it, and the ground rumbles. The coin’s humming gets louder. The silver gleams as though it’s infused with the light of the suns, and then a navy flash of light floods my vision, temporarily blinding me.
When the light clears, the coin is resting in a small, circular crater the size of my hand. The forest is quiet, and it takes me a moment to realize the hum is gone.
I reach for the coin only to pull back my hand and glance up at my tutor. “Can I touch it?”
“Yes. Some objects can hold magic for extended periods of time, but most can only store a limited amount. It runs out, draining over time. This coin only had a small amount, and now it’s gone.”
I pick up the token as Jasper retakes his seat, turning it over in my palm. It feels completely normal as if it never contained any magic at all.
“So you will your magic to go into the object?” It sounds easy, so why is it causing me so much trouble?
“Yes, but make sure you’re extremely clear about your intentions while channeling your magic. You need to tell it exactly what you want it to do.”
That makes sense and lines up with what I already know. When the king’s soldiers were reaching for the twins, my magic killed them because I needed to defend us. Same during the battle. But obviously, the magic infused in the blessed salve is different. Meant for healing, not inflicting harm.
“Is this the best way to move magic?” I ask, turning the coin over, familiarizing myself with its weight.
“It’s the easiest way,” Jasper says.
I look up. “There are others?”
“A few, but they’re not as simple. The more advanced techniques tend to last longer, but they can also pose more of a risk to the Blessed using them.”
“What kind of risk?” This comes from Gabriel.
“The quicker we use our magic, the higher the likelihood that we drain our reserves.” Jasper looks to me. “Remember the well we talked about?”
I nod, instinctively reaching within myself for that place where my magic resides. Bright blue magic, like a cloudless sky, is sitting there. Waiting for me.
“We can empty it, right?” I ask.
The gods gave each of us a finite amount of magic—their way of encouraging the Blessed to work with and rely on one another. At least, that’s how Soren explained it last week.
Sparks flit around Jasper’s fingers. “If we use too much too fast, yes. We can all run dry except for . . .”
“The gods-damned king,” Gabriel says, his fingers curling around my knee.
My spine stiffens at his treasonous words, and I glance over my shoulder, confirming we’re alone before relaxing. Honestly, I don’t think anyone here cares for the king, but we can never be too careful.
“That’s right.” Jasper leans against a tree, his arms crossed as a frown tugs on his features. “He’s stolen so much power, his well must be bottomless.”
Yet another reason to hate the man trying to kill me. As if I needed one.
Sighing, I swap out Jasper’s coin for the one I set aside earlier, placing it in the center of my palm.
“Okay. I can do this,” I mutter, encouraging myself while trying to forget about the king. This conversation has been an unwelcome reminder that while I am still learning the basics of this magic, there is a tyrannical man intent on killing me and siphoning my power.
There will be a time to be afraid of the king and his endless magic, but this isn’t it. I won’t let my fear stop me from learning this. King Andreas has already taken so much, but this magic is mine.
My blessing from the gods, if the rebels are to be believed. My birthright. My power.
Focusing on the coin, I twist the fingers of my left hand while I draw some magic from my well. It’s not long before a small blue flame rests in my palm. That, at least, is easy enough. To prove my control, I extinguish the fire, take a breath, then reignite it.
The flame dances in my palm, blown by the breeze, and a small smile pulls on my lips. Suns, I’ve come a long fucking way from the woman I was at the beginning of the winter.
Maybe . . . maybe I’m not as dangerous, now. Maybe, now that I’ve learned more control, I might be able to see my sisters again.
Hope sparks within me at the thought, and I exhale a long breath, my focus never wavering. I’d love to see my sisters again more than anything, but for that to happen, I need to be able to keep them safe and have full control over my magic.
Holding the flame in one hand and the coin in the other, I follow Jasper’s example and bring them together slowly. The fire is warm but not hot as it licks the bottom of the coin.
“There you go.” Jasper is crouched across from me, staring intently at my fingers. “Concentrate on your intentions and focus on moving the flame into the coin.”
Gabriel’s thumb sweeps across my knee, his touch grounding. “You can do this, Birdie.”
His belief strengthens me in a way that I never thought another person could, and I fill my lungs, sending my magic healing thoughts as I urge it to do as I’m asking.
I concentrate as hard as I can. Harder than I ever did at school, or when Amelia and I were learning about what it meant to be Given (even though that was all a lie).
Harder than when I had to memorize the Giving Agreement, the legislation that governs the Marked Ones in Myreth.
Harder than I’ve ever concentrated on anything in my life.
I focus so hard everything else fades away. The forest, the wind, the birdsong, Jasper. Even Gabriel becomes nothing more than a grounding force, his touch reminding me of his presence.
There’s me, the token, and my magic. My Mark heats up, but for once, I welcome the slight burn. It’s a sign that things are working. My fingers tingle, and the blue flame sways closer to the coin.
Please work, I beg the magic. I need this.
There are so many things in this world that are out of my control, but this is something that I should be capable of doing.
It feels like an eternity passes before there’s movement. At first, it’s so small I nearly miss it. The top of the flame licks the coin, and then it disappears.
My heart hammers against the confines keeping it in place, and I narrow my eyes. This feels more difficult than when I was fighting with the other Marked Ones in the battle. More important, too, because this is something I should’ve known how to do but was stolen from me.
More, because I am learning it for me.
When I was waiting to be Given, I was living by other people’s rules. Suns, I waited for my life to begin for so long I nearly lost everything in the process.
I’m done with that.
The flames dance again, and I force my will into them, like Jasper said. And this time . . .
The fire flickers, then vanishes altogether. The coin vibrates, slowly at first but then picking up speed, and it hums, glowing a bright blue as though it’s lit from within.
Grinning, I proudly proclaim, “I did it.”