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

Chapter 11

"Will you teach me the enchantment you used to hide the other night?" Priscilla asked Professor Sinclair. All day she had been wondering how to form the question. She worried he would refuse, catching on to her plans. Classes had ended an hour ago. She sat in a desk in his office reading her textbook on A History of Witch Era. Sinclair silently graded papers at his desk in front of her. They had not talked much since she had come in, Priscilla still felt awkward after the last time they had spoken. Her leg bounced with jitters.

Priscilla glanced up from her textbook to look at him. His eyes were casted towards her, studying her. His brows were scrunched, creating a crease between them. She felt nervous under his stare. He didn't respond to her question right away. "That enchantment is an advanced skill. Why are you asking me that?" He sounded suspicious. Luckily, she had planned ahead, thinking of an excuse to say.

"I want to be able to do what I can to feel safe. The past week, I've realized I am unarmed because I do not know magic as well as my other students. I need to learn. Especially if halflings keep dying." Sinclair seemed skeptical, but he knew she was a halfling. Priscilla though she had put up a pretty good point. She did want to learn the enchantment for her own safety, but she needed it for personal reasons as well. For a while she thought he would say no. She worried he could see right through her lies, and she tried to hold the façade featured on her face. She hoped she looked worried enough. He studied her, she saw his eyes rake up and down her, looking for her lies. Those mossy green eyes bored into her, and she could feel a sweat breaking out on the back of her neck.

"I could teach you. It will not be easy though" He finally said. He stroked his lower lip with his index finger, thinking. Priscilla felt a surge of relief exit her. She closed her textbook, leaving it on the desk with her notes. Professor Sinclair stood up from his desk, and approached her.

"The enchantment command is shield disguise. You chant those words to become concealed from other eyes." Priscilla mumbled the words, but she didn't think anything happened. She glanced up at Sinclair to verify. "It does not just work like that." He specified. "You must also feel unseen."

"How do I feel unseen?" She asked him. She felt slightly that she was being messed with. She arched her eyebrow up at him, making a face. Sinclair chuckled at her. She noticed his teeth were perfectly straight. He scratched at his stubbled chin. 

"Yes, you should feel inside of you that no one can see you." Sinclair verified. She took a deep breath. How does someone feel invisible? She thought of times she had felt that way in the orphanage. The times couples would come in looking for a child to call their own, and she was never picked. She thought how she had felt invisible then. Would that feeling be enough? She continued taking deep steady breaths, a calm settled inside her veins. She summoned inside her the magic she knew she possessed. Calling to it to follow her command.

"Shield disguise." She chanted. She looked towards her professor once more for clarification. He shook his head no. She slumped her shoulders in despair.

"Try again." Sinclair encouraged her. "Magic takes practice sometimes. This enchantment is not easy either." She nodded to show understanding, but she still felt frustrated with herself. She tried again and again. The task seemed more hopeless the longer time went on. Sinclair seemed to be giving up hope as well after her fiftieth attempt. He sat slumped in his chair watching her lazily. 

"Shield disguise." She said for around the twentieth time. She waited a few minutes. Sinclair did not say anything, but she had a feeling that maybe this time she had done it. She looked up to Sinclair to verify, a flutter of hope sparking her insides. That spark went out when she noticed Sinclair was dozing off at the desk. His elbow was propped on the desk, holding up his slumping head, and his eyes drifted lethargically closed. "Hey wake up." She shouted, frustrated. He jumped awake, his eyes darting around the room alert. They landed on her, and seemed to focus. Priscilla could see how tired he looked. She also noticed he had not shaved yet. His facial hair was growing in thick now. His facial hair was a shade darker than the umber brown color of his hair.