The Rage Eater

Chapter 36: Masks

Sadie stood outside Wizard Dvesha's door, waiting. Before she had a chance to knock, the large wooden door opened with a slow creak, revealing Wizard Dvesha sitting at his desk, his head hidden under a dark hood, illuminated by the glow of dozens of candles.

"Sadie, come in," said Wizard Dvesha, removing his hood. "I've been expecting you."

Sadie gulped. She knew Wizards were powerful, but he had just opened the door—with his mind. She walked inside his office and took a seat opposite him. It smelled of rotten fruit and moldy books, and it was quiet save for the buzzing flies feasting on bruised apples.

"I hope I'm not late," Sadie said.

"Not at all."

Once again, Sadie noticed the smoothness of his skin, the sharp lines of his jaw.

He looks like a storybook prince, Sadie thought.

"It's not fair, is it?" said Wizard Dvesha.

"Not fair?"

"Being made to wear a mask. Why should you be forced to hide your gift—your magic— from the world?"

"Because of Bloom?"

"One man, hundreds of years ago. In that time, how many women and men without magic have murdered innocents? Are their swords, knives, and warhammers outlawed?" Wizard Dvesha relaxed back in his chair and sighed. "I'm sorry. I just wish it was different for you. Although, you are not the only one to wear a mask."

"I'm not?" Sadie said.

"No. This isn't my true face. I wear it only so I can move through the world without notice. But, since I see the real you, it's only fair you see the real me, too."

Wizard Dvesha's beautiful face melted away, his skin and eyes and hair disappearing like vapour, revealing his true face—a long, grinning white skull, with two empty black pits where his eyes once were.

Sadie gasped.

"I'm sorry," Wizard Dvesha said. "It's too much. I didn't mean to scare you. It's just—"

"No, you didn't scare me," Sadie lied. "Besides, you should be yourself."

As much as the sight of the once-beautiful Wizard as a talking skeleton frightened her, Sadie forced herself to look at him, afraid that he'd been insulted—or worse, think she was childish.

"Thank you," Wizard Dvesha said. "Now, we still have some time before class. So, let's get to work. How many times have you used your powers?"

"Twice."

"Both accidental?"

"Once by accident, the other on purpose."

Wizard Dvesha nodded. Even in his true form, he moved gracefully, candlelight glinting off the grey-white bone of his skull. "In both instances, what fuelled the fire?"

Sadie looked down, ashamed. "Anger."

"Sadie, don't be ashamed. Anger isn't inherently bad. In fact, it's the only right way to respond to injustice. And for us, those with red magic, anger is fuel. And like any fuel, it's only dangerous when uncontrolled."

With his long, thin skeleton fingers, Wizard Dvesha placed an unlit, half-melted candle in front of Sadie. "So, control it."

Sadie focussed her mind, staring at the unlit wick as she tried to summon her anger. But what once came so easily was barely there at all. She'd been angry at Aubrey for defending the orcs, but that was nothing like the white-hot rage that nearly burned down the tavern or lit the leaves on fire after Master Dao's class. "I can't," Sadie said, frustrated. "It's just not there."

"Sadie, have you ever been doing something absolutely ordinary—like taking a walk or washing dishes—only to remember something someone did or said to you, something that made you furious?"

Sadie nodded.

"And in that moment," Wizard Dvesha continued, "did you not feel angry, as if the very thing that sparked the anger was happening again?"

Sadie nodded again. Sometimes a memory was almost as powerful as the experience itself.

"Good. Now reach into your mind," Dvesha said, pressing his bony fingers together. "Find that feeling."

Sadie closed her eyes, sifting through recent memories: Warrior Devi humiliating her at the tavern; Nicolas mocking her on the drawbridge; the entire school laughing at her during the Ceremony of the Beastlies; Sofi tricking her. Sadie focussed on the memory of the Ceremony, the anger burning in her chest like a hunk of fiery coal.

"Good," Dvesha said. "Now focus on the candle's wick. Imagine it igniting in your mind's eye."

Sadie squinted at the candle, her anger rising. A tiny wisp of smoke rose from the tip of the wick.

"More," Dvesha whispered. "Surrender to your rage."

Sadie concentrated on the memory: the horrible laughter, the deep shame, the powerlessness. As her rage deepened, she felt the wick grow hotter and hotter, until she heard a slight pop—fire.

"Superb, Sadie. Absolutely superb. Now tell me, how do you feel?"

Anger flowed through her like a great, dark wave. "Powerful."

"That's because you are powerful," he said. "Very powerful."

"Will I," Sadie said, pausing to consider the question, "be able to move things? With my mind, I mean?"

Wizard Dvesha leaned back in his chair and smiled. "Sadie, today is only the beginning. You, my young apprentice, are capable of far, far more."