The Songs Of The Flames (The Curse Of The Thirteenth Series)

Chapter 6

"Try again." Professor Sinclair said as she attempted to move a feather that was placed on his desk. He told her they should start with something light for her to move. She believed it when he told her, her magic was weak. She didn't need someone voicing it to know she was struggling. She tried to focus on the feather in front of her. Her task was to move the feather from one side of the desk to another. It didn't seem that difficult from the sounds of it, but she was having trouble. The first try she had just set the feather on fire, and Professor Sinclair had to leave the classroom to search for a new feather. The second try she had barely lifted it off the desk. This was all part of her Magic Self Control, but she had no control to begin with. She focused on the lightness of the feather as Professor Sinclair had told her to do, and she tried to feel it under her fingers moving at her whim, but she just was having a difficult time.

She managed to wiggle the feather. She slumped into a chair beside her defeated. Her head hug in the palm of her hands as she tried not to get emotional. "I don't have it. I just don't!" She shouted frustrated.

"Come on, don't give up. You nearly had it." Professor Sinclair pushed.

"I don't want to try anymore tonight, can we go onto another study? I mean I haven't made any more progress this week with my magic." she huffed, glancing up towards him. He stood above her, his arms wrapped over his chest.

He shook his head no. "I want you to use your powers more. You won't figure it out if you never use it. Now try again."

Priscilla heaved a sigh of exasperation, and stood back up. She focused on the feather once more. Her eyes traced the color of the feather. The base began with a light tan fluff that gradually turned to a light brown. She began to feel the soft brush of the feather in the palm of her hand. She focused on that feeling. How light it was, how it tickled her hand slightly. She imagined moving the feather to the other side of the desk, lifting it in the palm of a invisible hand. The feather lifted wobbly off the desk before her eyes. She was so shocked she almost lost focus. Slowly she managed to move the feather across the desk. She cheered when it landed, smiling up at her professor.

Professor Sinclair stood with his arms crossed in front of his chest. His stern façade was cracking with a smirk breaking his lips. "You must not give up on her magic. I told you, try again, and look, you succeeded." He smiled then. The smile lightened up his features.

"I want you to try again though, I saw how much you struggled. I want you to keep trying until you have managed to complete the task without difficulty." Sinclair instantly went back to his strict personality. Priscilla grumbled about him always being moody under her breath, but continued her work. Each time she tried, her magic responded better. She had been going to Valerian Academy for a week now, but her magic was just now responding to her calls.

Ada's parents had arrived the day after their daughter's death. Priscilla had not seen the body, but had heard from other students that the Ada was pretty mangled. When they arrived Priscilla glimpsed Ada's mother sobbing in the hallway before the grand hall. Professors had blocked off the area to allow the two grieving parents privacy. Priscilla felt choked up seeing the distressed mother in that one glimpse. She felt guilty not finding any more clues since Ada's death. She wasn't the only one though, none of the professors had found any hints to the killer, and no signs had popped up since. News occasionally came to one of the students through Sprite Mail about more halflings deaths outside of the school. Sprite Mail, as Priscilla had learned was mail being delivered by the tiny flying creatures she had noticed flying around the castle. Priscilla hated to hear the news of all those deaths, but her curiosity always spiked hearing about The Elite.

Curfew was still after dinner for all students. Priscilla had the excuse to study with Professor Sinclair, so she often came back after curfew. He was required to walk her to the dormitory though for protection. Priscilla was unable to find any more sightings of the shadow she had seen the week before. She was never alone to catch sight of the creature, and she began to push it aside as a figment of her imagination.