Once upon a Midnight | BOOK I

Twenty-seven

"Mum, what is magick?" I asked. We'd just came back from the ghost-infested castle and my mum was tucking me in bed. Mum dragged a small chair and sat beside my bed. Her eyes burned bright green. Most of her bruises had been healed with magick but she still had the signs of a soul fever.

Mum smiled. "Anabeth, we are magick."

"Huh?" I raised an eyebrow.

Mum laughed softly. "You see, love, I've seen different types of magick. But the two that stood out are those of satanic witches, and that of sorcerers like you and me."

That was when my magick lessons began. I sat up in my bed while Mum began to explain the concept of sorcery to me.

Mum stretched forth her hand and a flame grew on her palm. "You see, magick is like fire. This fire. Unlike satanic witches who draw their magick from Lucifer, we are born with that magick inside us. The magick takes the appearance of a flame. That's why we call it soul fire." The fire in her hand changed colours from red through purple. I sat, awestricken at the sight of the beautiful flames sitting on Mum's palm. "As sorcerers, we spend our lives nurturing that flame, feeding it and letting it grow. Just like a child."

I shifted backwards as the flames burned brighter. Then I moved forward and touched it. It was cold.

Mum smiled. "Most people can never make their soul fire grow past the average size, while some can make it burn so bright, it'll scorch their skin," Mum continued. "But just as it can be nurtured, the soul fire can also be dampened and put out." She squeezed her palm shut, making the flames vanish and prompting a gasp out of me.

"How can it be put off?" I asked.

"That, my dear, is nothing a child needs to know." She pinched my nose playfully. "Anabeth, growing your soul fire is important, but what is more important is learning to control it."

*  *  *

My mind brushed over the lessons my mum had taught me. My palms began to sweat and I was suddenly conscious of the rising and falling of my chest. I gulped and muttered a prayer to all the gods and devils I could think of. Then I began to walk through the dimly lit tunnel.

Mum had taught me more on soul fire. She once said everyone was born with soul fire in them, both laypeople and sorcerers alike. She explained that while ours is like a flame, that of laypeople is more like fiery embers. The spark is so low they can't do magick with it. Same thing with the satanic witches. But they, however, bond with Lucifer who in turn fuels those fiery embers and allow them to do magick. That's why sorcerers don't get along with satanic witches.

She explained how to reach into my soul fire and make the magick conform to my will and to the spells I cast.

I cleared my throat as I reached the end of the tunnel and the iron grating before me began to be raised. I wiped my sweaty palm against my gown and began to slow down my shaky breathing. I was going to need all the strength and focus I could muster.

The light flooded my eyes as I stepped into the arena. Tiakken also entered the arena at the same moment from the other end. He smiled as his sea-coloured eyes met my green eyes. He stood there in his manly beauty while Auntie Hilda began to speak. He was clad in an ash round-necked T-shirt and fitted black trousers that pronounced his muscular features. He had deep tanned skin, long wavy hair and a low beard over his angular jaw. He was wearing a black knee-length blazer and he had a staff in his hand. A midnighter's staff.