Phantom Hunters | Saphir Casters Academy

5 | The Phantom of Paraiba

V | THE PHANTOM OF PARAIBA

    Kael sat at the front porch, sticking his tongue out in concentration.

    "Between two circles, there is power," he muttered the story of the sigil, which helped him remember how to sketch it. Using a sharp piece rock, he had already scratched the first circle.

    He finished etching the inner circle of the sigil onto the shovel his uncle had discarded. The least he could do was practice the casting of a sigil on the tool until he could finally get his very own insignia to fill the empty space within the circle. It would allow him to use magic indefinitely — or until he used up his own energy — instead of burning out like incomplete sigils.

    "Four corners of Hearth," he murmured, engraving small dots at four points between the circles.

    "Four suns midway through." Next came the four larger circles in between the dots.

    "First comes the lightning..." he trailed off as he pressed the nail to create a zigzag between the circle and the dot. "Then the waves."

    "First comes the lightning..." He moved to the next quarter of the circle and repeated the process three more times until the circle was finished.

    "Within the inner circle, a fire burns, the mark of fire at opposite ends." He blew away at the rust and dust that came off from his scratching. "The tail goes up, swoops, curves, and in. The tail goes up, swoops, curves, and in."

    He scratched in the final swirl of the fire sigil before wiping away at the dust. Smiling with satisfaction, he stood and brandished the shovel like it was a sword — wishing it was a sword. It was too bad the tools he'd used before became useless after one use with a sigil, and Hont had yet to use up another scythe.

    Still, the shovel would be enough for him to practice his casting. He checked the sigil again, making sure it was identical to the sigil seared into his memory. Maybe his flames would be a normal colour this time, instead of the usual golden colour they seemed to always have. He suspected that was the reason his sigils always burned out before the time limit.

    He glanced down at the shovel with a sigh, yearning for a proper weapon. The first thing he would get when he made his own money was a sharp double-edged sword.

    He was about to leave the house when a figure running in the distance caught his eye. To his surprise, he could see the bob of Aisa's brown curls.

    She stumbled down the road and ran with her skirt bunched in her hands. A skirt? In the short time Kael knew her, he had never seen Aisa in a skirt. What was she prettying herself up for? A festival? No, the next festival wouldn't be in a few months.

    "Kael!" Aisa yelled, and her voice trembled. From where he stood, he could almost hear the tears streaming down her cheeks.

    "Aisa? What are you doing here?"

    He bitterly thought of how she supported Roder in his bullying. Despite this, he could never stop his heart from fluttering when she was around.

    "Kael, where's your brother?" Aisa asked, her eyes red from crying. Kael frowned when he saw her bleeding feet. He had to fight the urge to carry her into the cottage and clean the wounds himself.

    "He went out to catch the phantom. Why? What's wrong?"

    "L-Lint. It's Lint. The doctor ran out of medicine, and Lint still hasn't gotten an elixir. Please, you have to find your brother."