Heading to Magic Academy

Magic Fingers

"Theon, are you able to cast magic?"

Theon hesitated in shock.

Did he come off as that incapable?  The whole point of the stage system, stages 1 to 6, was to measure your magic capability.  If you couldn't cast magic, you weren't even in the system.

"Yeah, Sir," Theon replied.

Instantly, he felt a pang of regret.  It felt as if he had told a lie...

Magic to him didn't come to him naturally.  In primary school, enviously, he'd observe others around him glow up their fingers at command.  It was a simple trick to flaunt, which was the equivalent of wiggling your ears or something similar.  In secondary school, glowing turned into little flames or a rush of air with the point of a finger.

Technically, yes.  Theon could cast magic.

But it would take time, just staring at his fingers... Squinting and concentrating so much that something must have happened eventually.  It usually did, with glimpses of light that went on and off.  But it just happened.  He never understood what it was he was concentrating on.  If he thought he was feeling something, the blaze on his fingers would go out, leaving him even more hopeless.

He had only cleared the stage 1 exam by luck.

When the school opened, students crowded outside the door of their classrooms, waiting to take the pre-exam.  When Theon entered the classroom, the air flushed his skin cool.  It was the combination of the magic the two students had performed beforehand: an air and ice user's magic, and the fact that Theon had spent the last half-hour sweating in other people's body heat.  The sudden stimulation blazed his fingers golden and gave him a clear. 

Perhaps it was the stress... As in every placement exam in the following years, something happened which put him in the clear—albeit barely.  It eventually led Theon to accomplish stage 3 magic.  Sort of.

Theon decided to explain his circumstance:

"Well, yer see, Sir, I—"

"Why don't you show me your magic?"  Mr. Adler suggested.

"Er..."  Fuck.  It better work.

He focused on his hands.  They were clammy cold.  And in fact, his whole body shivered in sticky chills.  Just let the magic out.

He tried tensing up his fingers, one by one, and, between glancing back at Mr. Adler, imagined a brilliant golden glow heating the lengths of his fingers.  Yet his fingers remained cold.

"I-it usually works, Sir," Theon mumbled.  His heart pounded in frustration.  Perhaps it wasn't stress that triggered the magic from his fingers.  Perhaps the only thing triggering his magic was plot armor.  Well doesn't that suck.

Mr. Adler observed his efforts in silence, then said:

"So you haven't learned how to control your magic yet."  Theon stared at his fingers in shame.  

"I find that puzzling, considering you're already at stage 3," he continued.  "Well, it's alright.  That's what you're here for."

"Using magic is really just like using a muscle."  Mr. Adler flexed his fingers, then touched his thumb to his pinky.  Theon nodded in silence.

"You see this?"  The teacher pointed to the inside of his wrist when he had his pinky and thumb connected.  A ridge stuck out, like a bone. "This is a muscle that not everyone has.  It's like that with magic.  Some have the ability, and some don't.  Considering you say you're stage 3, you must have it.  You just have to learn how to control it."  Yeah.  No shit, sherlock.

"Y-yeah..."  Theon's gaze wandered to the teacher's wrists, where dark curlicues and patterns wrapped around lean muscle.  It was a rather unappealing pattern, with random, undefined curls.  Who would bother to get a tattoo like that?  "Euh... Sir, did that hurt?"

"What?"  Mr. Adler said.  He followed Theon's stare.  "Oh... Yes.  We... should start working."  Theon furrowed his eyebrows, breaking a sweat, as Mr. Adler got up from his chair and went to another room.  Should he follow?  Fuck, his social anxiety.  

A slosh of a tap started in the background, and Mr. Adler returned to his seat, holding a bowl of water that slopped back and forth.

"How have you been trying to conjure magic in the past?" he asked.

"I jerst concentrate ma best and euh, imagine my fingers real warm, like the magic's spreading."

"I see," he laughed.  "No matter your element, whether water or light, you should not be imagining your fingers being warm.  

"Oh, really,"  Theon chuckled nervously.

"Should feel cold.  Always.  Do your fingers not feel cold when casting magic?  You want to think of using magic like dipping the tip of your fingers into water."

"Oh, you want me to...?"  Theon hesitated.

"Yes, try putting your fingers on the water and get a feel for it.  You should imagine that sensation on your fingers when producing light."

Theon places the pad of his fingers upon the water.  Cold.

"Did your teachers not teach you this?"  Mr. Adler's eyes hooded with an accusing stare at Theon.  "It's fundamental.  How did you get to stage 3 magic knowing this little?"

"I-I dunno, Sir."  He felt a heat rise on his neck and looked down at the bowl.  His face tensed, not loosening no matter how much he tried.  "I'm sorry, I wasn't the greatest stude-"

The sensation of ice ripped up his fingers.  There was a faint click as the lights in the house blew out into darkness.

Theon jerked his hand out of the water as cold clawed and drew blood from the tips of his fingers, his knuckles blue and numb.  

His hand radiated vermillion like melting metal, pulsing orange with his trembling heartbeat.  His hand did not glint with ice, despite how the cold dug and tore through his skin.  Yet, simultaneously, his hand drew sweat and dampness over his nose and upper lip, emanating waves of heat.

"Hey, nice.  You gathered the light to your hand.  A stage 2 skill."  Theon jerked his head up to Mr. Adler.  His eyes glinted orange as if he was sitting in front of a fire.  

Black enveloped the whole room, except for where the pulsating light carved out on the shelves and furniture, shades of orange and red.  The window bore no light.

"W-why does it hurt so much?" Theon gasped.

"Because you've taken out all the lights in my house," he laughed.  "Try holding it and releasing it bac-"

A little whirring sound was followed by lights flooding back.

"Oh..."  Theon shook out his hand.  "It's feelin' real numb."

"Good job.  Try practicing at home."  The teacher glanced at the window.  "It really shouldn't hurt that much.  You need to start using your magic more often.  If it hurts to just cast a stage 3 skill, you won't be able to use higher magic."

"You better be going. You did well."

"Yeah, thanks Sir, fer the lesson."  Theon stumbled to his feet and moved to the door.

"Remember to get the textbook!"  Mr. Adler pointed to it by Theon's feet.  "Also, stay on the main roads."

"Yeah, thanks."

---

His fingers tingled.

Every blow of the wind sent his hand into his pocket.  The way his hand prickled and twitched in the slightest movement of air made him clench his teeth, anticipating the searing cold that would pierce his hand.

His fingers remained as they were the whole way home, but he wondered if it wouldn't hurt as much the second time.  Why didn't it hurt in the past?  Because of how low-level the magic he used was?  Well, he had the chance to strive for something greater now.  That was cool.