Spellcaster series #1: The Neophyte

Aura

HEIDI

"The first rule of magic—always control your aura with your energy."

Jesse took a few steps back. "I can see your aura but barely. You need to be one with it. Close your eyes and count your breath. Inhale, count to three, and exhale. You will feel that your mind will calm and be cleared."

I closed my eyes.

"Your energies are the different focal points in your body when you meditate. Now, feel all the energies align within yourself so you can feel your current flow."

I opened an eye, "So...how do I do that?"

"Close your eyes!"

I did. "How do I align my...energies?"

"Feel the universe flow through you, in and out. Embrace its fluidity."

I focused and let my mind take control. "I feel...something."

"I can see your aura, it's white and pure, as every new Spellcaster would have. Now, concentrate. Good...good. It's turning into a blue hue. The blue resembles Practical magic so I know what your mind and aura are leaning towards. Feel its presence and embrace it. The aura is constant, never changing. Let it move with you."

I breathed.

"Focus. Bend your aura to your will. Let it move your energy and flow out of your—"

ZAP! A current flowed through and out of my fingertips. It burst before me, leaving a surge of current around us.

"I did it! Jesse I did it!"

Jesse beamed. "You did. Now, focus on your willpower. Point to that pile of dirt on the bench over there."

Another surge of current, this time I could feel it pulsate through my body from my head. It shot out this time, instead of bursting, and landed on the pile of dirt. The dirt dissipated and the bench looked clean.

"Congratulations, you have acquired Scrubbiro, the cleaning spell."

Over the course of eight weeks, as planned, I had achieved the basics of Practical magic. I worked through my exhaustion and frustration just to master them. Jesse was patient, thank goodness, and focused on my capabilities to push to my limits. I could remain focused easily during my training.

As a Sage of Practical Magic, he taught me to tap into my logic and lean into it to summon my aura. I only had six months until I would complete my basic training and move up the rank from a Neophyte to an Acolyte.

One evening, two nights before I would start on Mischief magic training, I woke up startled. I was soaked in sweat and my heart was palpitating. I looked down on my hands and they were glistening from the light outside the dormitory window. I glanced at the digital clock which read '3.30 A.M., TWENTY-ONE DEGREES CELSIUS'. That dream was too vivid to ignore.

In it, I was at a dinner party with the Vampires. Everyone was enjoying themselves when the lights and candles were put out. A second later, the lighting was restored and Lord Voltaire was cradling Vicky's decapitated head in his arms. He had a wide grin on his face, uncharacteristically ghastly, and wiped the blood off with bloodied hands. Vicky's body laid lifeless before me, writhing.

I got breathless. I tried to run but the Vampires captured me and chained my wrists and ankles in the middle of the dining hall. They spread my limbs apart like a starfish. I wanted to scream but I was running out of breath. How?

Lord Voltaire floated to me and pulled out a knife. He carved some symbols onto my arms and legs. I could not see what symbols they represented—the pain was too unbearable. At last, Lord Voltaire swiped my head off my neck like it was a twig from a tree branch with his bare hands, his black nails long.