Going Your Own Way, but with Magic

Chapter 6

I am going to perform a ceremony of magical bonding with a plastic curtain ring I found on the floor. There's a nice fuck-you element to it. I don't need ancient artifacts or ancient traditions. This will hold my magic exactly the same. I turn it over in my hands. It is new, created in a batch of thousands in some factory somewhere. It has no history. I have to make that for myself.

Mr Bates has lent me a couple of papers, delicate and brown around the edges, that are meant to contain diagrams of the ritual. This is so incredibly kind I don't tell him how completely useless they are. They each have a different, very complicated set-up, mostly obscured by water damage, but both of them basically boil down to willpower.

I hold it in my open palm, and try to figure out which way is North. I feel like I should be facing North. I give up and decide to face the hills instead. The power is easy to reach. I feel it, without trying to push it into shape, and I let it ebb into the ring. When I dare to open my eyes, it is glowing blue. It is beautiful, hypnotic, but so bright it hurts my eyes. I shut them with regret. I bet at least a couple people got burnt retinas trying to do this. The power drains from me and I feel all the human pains and cares and emotions returning. Returning slowly, at least, which I am thankful for. The glow has left the ring and I can look at it. It vanishes without a trace, not even the slightest hint of blue. Despite being filled with a power foreign to mankind, it's a plastic curtain ring. That makes me want to laugh, or shout. It feels like a victory. I tie it tightly to my belt with a yellow ribbon. It's not the strangest fashion thing I've seen.

I don't let go of it walking back. It feels like I've done something huge. It's not exactly an heirloom, but it's a thing. A thing that is mine, that I don't need, that I can keep forever. I've poured a part of myself into it. At one point it gives me a very slight shock, like static off a metal fence. I swear it goes bluer when that happens, but when I stare harder it turns right back into a curtain ring. I have to choke down a laugh, so people don't think I've completely lost it. I have an almost uncontrollable urge to run down the street screaming 'Hey, I can do magic!'. I feel like they should know, you know?

Now the danger of frying my brain is gone, I can start learning magic for real now. And that is a sentence I really didn't think would ever cross my mind. I visit the field again, with a big bucket of water in case. Still feeling like a complete idiot, I kneel down on the grass.

I empty my mind. Or try to. I've never been good at it. I'm very skilled in floating away to a different place. Staying in the present is far harder. Unfortunately, I haven't found a better way to summon the power. Switch off my thoughts, hear everything but also sort of not, shut my eyes. Don't let myself drift. The feeling surfaces, blue-green like the ocean and sort of fizzing. Everything around me is gone, except for my ring. I can feel it burning my side. I blink, and I feel it, and this time it is easier to pull. It isn't struggling against me quite as much, and the ring takes some of the burden. I open my eyes, release the power onto the ground in front of me. The field is on fire. Oh. The field is on fire. I come dangerously close to freezing up and I am running on sheer muscle memory when I grab the bucket of water and douse the flames. I stare and the signed patch of grass and thank god it wasn't worse. Guess I'm staying very on brand with my spells.

As I look, I realise that I am definitely not done with the 'Holy shit I'm magic' freakout. This is more than an ember. I changed the world, sort of. I created fire. Me. I did that. Shit. Magic. I did magic. And nearly caused a wildfire, but swings and roundabouts. I wanted the world to bend a bit. And it did. I did a magic spell, a proper one. The ring has gone from white-hot to pleasantly warm. The complete exhaustion is gone, but I'm tired. The sky is very blue and the sun is yellow. I want to dance with someone.

I am learning fast, although mostly about fire. I'm good at fire. I can make it warm rather than hot now, warm and contained. The kind of fire that's meant to help, not destroy. Still, I'd like to make not fire. It's working with no guidebook that's the hardest. Mr Bates helps as much as he can, but there's no real concrete advice he can find. I like to think of myself as the weird kid with a computer who founds the next bitcoin, but a witch. That's a nice way of thinking about myself. I'm starting to associate spells with words. Unnecessary, but it makes it easier. The official teachers use Latin, so I've been striving to make all my spells as non-Latin as I possibly can. Given that I know no Latin, this is quite easy. I think about making it all swearing, and then decide I'm not eleven. It's tempting, though. Fire is 'red'. Unoriginal, but it works out in my head. I scream red when I want proper, burning fire, whisper it when I want gentle flames, for light not heat. I think that description might give some misleading ideas about my success rate. Which is about one in every ten. And I definitely have no fine control over it. But I'm getting better every day. And I'm doing magic. There's going to be a learning curve. I still keep bursting out laughing at how seriously I'm taking magic. Oh my god, I'm doing magic. That hasn't worn off.