Chapter 39 Declan #2
Kelsa expanded my training to include other Elemental powers: fire, earth, and air.
She gave me books to read, and we tried visualization techniques.
She even built a giant bonfire in the middle of the stone circles, but my magic couldn’t sense the element, much less do anything with it.
After a week of exercises and diligent study, she determined fire was absent from my magical arsenal.
I was also blind to earth, unable to sense or touch even the most basic stone with my Light.
“I know it’s disappointing. Fire, in particular, offers practical applications, particularly in battle, and earth magic is what the Phoenix used to raise the mountains on the border,” Kelsa explained.
“There’s nothing we can do about it, though. You have the Gifts that you were given, so let’s move on to air.”
My shoulders slumped. I knew I shouldn’t expect to be able to do everything magic had to offer, but I was still disappointed.
“Fire would’ve been really cool,” órla chirped in my head.
“Declan, are you listening?”
I startled and realized Kelsa had been talking while I daydreamed about balls of flame floating above my palm.
“Sorry, can you say that again?”
She shot me an annoyed glare. “Air may seem weak compared to the other elements, but I assure you, it’s not. Do you remember calling a shield that blocked arrows in your trial with the Keeper?”
“Oh, yeah. I have no idea how I did it, but that was awesome . . . until it disappeared and Atikus got shot.”
“Focus,” she chided. “Air is powerful, and, like water, it’s everywhere. Up here in the mountains, where things thin out, you’ll have the same issue as when trying to draw water from the dirt, but in every other place, you should be able to easily manipulate the surrounding air.
“The biggest challenge with air is that you can’t see it. You may see the effects of its passing, like blowing leaves or swaying trees, but seeing the air itself is next to impossible.”
I furrowed my brow. “I couldn’t see the water in the dirt. Shouldn’t it be the same thing here? I just use my Light to reach out and grab it?”
“Inelegant, as always, but accurate.” She chuckled.
“Before we try practical exercises, one word of caution. Air is naturally connected to most everything. Think about it. It is all around you right now, and you’re breathing it in. So, it is actually going in and out of your body. What do you think could go wrong?”
“Oh, I know where you’re going. If I draw too much or am careless about where I’m drawing from, I could suck the air right out of my own lungs.”
She nodded. “Not a fun experience. I’ve done it and nearly killed myself in the process. It’s even easier to do to another person because you can’t feel them being out of breath like you could if it was your own lungs.
A strong draw can happen so quickly that it could be too late by the time you realized you were killing someone.”
“Does it matter how close the air is when you draw? I mean—if I draw from three hundred paces away, will it take longer to shape the air than if I drew from nearby?”
“No, it wouldn’t matter. The draw is so fast you wouldn’t lose any timing or effectiveness. So, given that, how would you do a draw from three hundred paces away?”
“That seems simple.” Her raised brow told me to think again. “I guess . . . wouldn’t I just focus on a point three hundred paces away and draw?”
“Show me with your finger. Point to where you’d draw right now.”
I scanned the ledge and pointed out across the stones into the wilderness.
“All right. That would work, but what if there were people over there, and you couldn’t draw in that direction? What if you needed to draw from, say, inside the cavern?”
“I guess I could do that, but I can’t see in there right now. How would I know there’s no one in there? How could I even know I was drawing from where I wanted to, since I couldn’t see it?”
“Good. Very good. Here’s the rule: You can only draw from a place you’ve actually visited because you’ll need to recall it in your mind to guide your Light. As for people being there, that’s the risk you’re taking by drawing out of sight. I would only do that in extreme emergencies,” she said.
“Questions before we try it?”
When I didn’t object, Kelsa walked me back to the center of the stone circles.
“Let’s use the focus point you mentioned before, three hundred paces out there in the woods. Actually, it’s above the woods from here, which is even better. Find your Light, then reach out and sense the air. This time, don’t touch the air, just sense it. I want you to describe what you see.”
The past couple of weeks had taught me confidence, and my Light came to me without having to close my eyes to concentrate. I squinted beyond the ledge to a point high above the forest and cast my Light in that direction. It was as if part of my own consciousness was sailing toward the clouds.
“This is crazy!” I laughed.
“Tell me what you see. What you feel.”
“It’s like . . . like part of me floated out of my body, and I’m in both places at the same time. I can feel my Light weaving in and out of currents of air, being pushed and pulled in different directions—but it’s more than wind; I can see the air shimmering as my Light passes through it.
It’s as though I’m painting the air with a magic brush. There are so many colors. It’s incredible.”
“The colors represent temperature and purity. Cold air appears tinged with blue, while hot air flares yellow. As your Light passes through objects, like leaves floating in the wind, those things will flare with a color of their own.
Living things will pulse and have an aura that varies with their nature.”
She paused, seeming to let me enjoy the experience.
“Now, find a place where the air is pure blue, or as close to it as you can get. I want you to use your Light like you did with water and shape the air. Form a ball again.”
“Okay. I found it, but how will we see it? Air’s invisible, right?”
“You’re infusing the air with your magic. You’ll see it. Trust me.”
Seconds later, a ball of air materialized, swirling high above the trees. It pulsed with shimmering light. My eyes widened, and I laughed as I forced the ball to rise and fall, then zip back and forth.
“I’m doing it! I’m really doing this!”
As my excitement grew, the ball expanded and pulsed brighter. Branches on the tops of the trees began rustling and bending upward, as if being sucked into the ball. A chorus of birds erupted below, and hundreds took flight, scattering in all directions.
“Declan, release it now.” Kelsa’s voice was suddenly stern.
I didn’t act immediately, and the ball continued to grow. When Kelsa placed a hand on my shoulder and shook me to break my concentration, the ball dissipated, and the trees drooped back to their resting position. A shock wave of air rushed over the ledge, kicking up dirt and debris.
“What was that?” I asked.
My mother turned my shoulders toward her.
“You lost yourself in the moment—in the excitement. We call that the thrill of magic. This is another cautionary lesson: The whole thing is intoxicating, having power . . . being able to do things few others can do. The way magic feels when you give yourself to the moment is unlike anything else,
but Declan, listen to me now. If you lose yourself like that without me here to pull you back, you will cause incredible harm to everyone and everything around you. Your Light may save you, but you will become the eye of a terrible storm.”
My head drooped. “That was the most incredible thing I’ve ever felt. It was like I was full of power and energy . . . but you’re right. When I got excited, it was like the magic took over. It wanted to grow.”
“Magic is a force. It’s a tool. It doesn’t have a mind of its own. As a Mage, you must remain in command of your magic, or it will run wild and consume everything around you, possibly even consume you if you can’t regain control.”
I peered over the ledge at the trees. The birds that fled were distant dots on the horizon. I felt myself deflate thinking about how close I’d come to harming the forest with so little effort.
As I stared into the distance, órla’s voice echoed in my head. “Now you know why we were brought together. When the time comes for you to leave the safety of the mountain, I will be the one to ground you, to protect and guide you. You are my purpose, Declan.”
I scanned about for the owl, unable to spot her anywhere near the ledge. “Where are you? How are you talking in my head again?”
“Uh, hello! Powerful, wise, magical owl. Daughter of Magic, remember? Here I thought we were making progress.” She floated down and landed on the pillar beside me.
I tried not to laugh. I really tried, but when she tilted her head and raised one bushy brow, I lost it.
Kelsa eyed us, then turned toward the cave’s opening. “I don’t know what that was all about, but I think that’s enough for one day. I’m going inside to work on dinner.”
I whispered to órla, “She couldn’t hear you in my head?”
“Nope. I can choose who hears me. We had a moment. Moment’s over.”
“I heard that!” Kelsa’s laughter echoed through the cavern.