Destiny's Harbinger: A(n Unhinged) Merlin and Young Justice Crossover

Chapter 8: Destiny: Round Two

I went to bed that night and wrapped myself in the down comforter. I knew I wouldn't fall asleep, but I allowed myself to be still and rest my body. My eyes glazed over and I stared up at the dark ceiling. After some time, I tossed back the blankets, slipped on a pair of house slippers, and flicked on the lights. It was almost three in the morning and I was starting to feel restless, my energy having returned.

One of Jason's books contained Old Religion spells. I scooped up the book and padded down the empty hallways of the Cave until I found myself in the training area. The Cave was silent, disturbed only by a gentle buzzing from the Zeta Tubes and the fridge. Here, I was far enough away from the others that hopefully my spellwork would not wake them.

I settled on the ground and cracked open the spell book, searching for something that was easy and manageable. Perhaps practice on my own was not the smartest idea, but I was too excited to try again.

When I found a spell worth trying, I propped the book open with my knee and cupped my hands before me. Like earlier, I centered and grounded myself before bringing my hands together, palms cupped upward.

"Leoht."

Nothing happened.

I shimmied around, settling into another position. I took another breath, closed my eyes, and repeated the spell.

"Leoht. Leoht!"

A pinprick of light ignited in my hands. As I said the spell again, this time firmer and with more confidence, the light grew into an orb the size of a lemon. White light poured into the room, the intensity flaring as my concentration wavered. After maintaining the spell for several seconds, I let the light fade.

I practiced the spell again, the light coming to me faster and stronger than before.

Eager to try another spell, I flipped through the pages, scanning the text for something else I could manage. I spotted a summoning spell, which captured my attention. I slipped off my shoe and tossed it a meter or so away. Then I held out my hand, concentrated on my slipper, and whispered the spell.

"Ongebringan. Ongebringan! Ongebringan!"

On the third or fourth attempt, the slipper shifted ever so slightly.

I tried again, changing my inflection and pronunciation. This time, the slipper slid a whole three centimeters closer to me. When I cast the spell again, the slipper slowly slid along the stone floor, all the way to my foot. I picked it up and tossed it again, a little further, and tried the spell again.