by Bob Dattolo
“I’ve heard it varies pretty heavily. Those two and a few other things are the worst for people, for some reason. No idea why some can do them and others can’t. Plastic seems to be the weaker of the two for power, no matter how thick it is. So a thick ball of it versus a plastic sheet? Same sort of spell capability. The only time it basically stops working is when you have something like plastic wrap. That doesn’t seem to take it. While tin foil? That’ll usually take a charm. Again, no idea why one versus the other.”
“That’s so weird!”
“Right?”
She watched me touch the things I brought out. I have a metal ring, some sort of gold mix. Not pure gold. A wooden stick that’s maybe six inches long. No bark on it. A stone that’s long and thin. It’s about three fingers wide and looks like a tiny surfboard. Just thicker.
“You tried with all of those?”
“And like a dozen other things. I didn’t think about trying plastic or glass. I even tried it on bone from the caf.”
“Nothing?”
“Not a thing.”
She grunted, “Okay, let’s bypass that, then. Take the stick there. Walk me through turning it into a charm.”
“Umm, okay? I’ll go for a light spell like you said.” That started almost 30 minutes of me walking her through everything that the books and other sources told me to do. All wrapped up in what she told me to do. When I was done, I had nothing from it.
She frowned, “Ookay? Honestly, I kinda woulda thought that would have worked. Can I try?”
I handed her the stick, “So you don’t think I’m doing something wrong?”
“Umm, no? I know you’re doing something wrong. I just don’t have a clue what it is. Knowing how strange your magic is, it may be nearly anything. Maybe you can only make charms on Tuesday or something crazy like that. What you did? I would have expected at least a weak light charm. I’ll do the same thing.”
She started walking me through it, although she managed to do it in like 15 minutes.
For charms, the power of the charm depends on the power put into it. The more focus and power spent on it, which tends to mean time, the more powerful the charm is, and the longer it will last. All depending on what material it’s made of.
When she was done, she showed me the stick, “Flashlight.” A beam of light cast out of the end, hitting the wall. It’s bright enough to see with the lights on in here, which means it’s decently bright.
“Dammit to hell! You didn’t do anything different!”
“Right? It’s gotta be something you’re not doing or you’re missing or you’re just not connecting with the material.” She touched the other items I had out, “What have you tried again? What kind of materials?”
“Oookay, I’ve tried various stones, different types of woods. Bundles of grasses. Leaves. Different types of metal. Jewelry. Some with different stones in them. Different types of cloth. Shoes. Paper. Rolled up paper. Bone. Different types of food, when I’d get desperate.”
“And you had nothing from all of those?”
“Nope. And I didn’t just try once. I’ve spent like an hour a day in the past month messing with things, with less in November. I’m just not getting it.”
She picked up the ring, “Try it again with this. Let me see what you’re doing again.”
“Okay. Scream if you see what I’m doing wrong.”
“You got it.”
I walked through everything quicker and ended my attempt 15 or so minutes later. Nothing. Then I tried with the stone. Then she got me another type of stone. Another piece of wood. When they all failed, she grabbed the last piece of wood and stuck the same flashlight spell into it with no problem. “That’s just the damnedest thing. It really is. It makes no sense to me.” She looked around her space before hopping up and grabbing something I couldn’t make out. When she sat down, she opened her hand and showed me a marble. “Let me try with this. We’ll see if I can make it work for once.”
Her power flowed, but nothing seemed to stick for her. She did it three times, then tossed the ball to me, “Nothing for me. Like normal. I’ve tried hundreds of times in my life just for the hell of it. Give it a shot.”
“Umm, okay?” I held the marble, rolling it in my hand. I haven’t held one in forever and it brings back choppy memories of being a kid with a set. They were fun, yet I almost never actually played marbles. I just liked them.
My magic flowed, with me setting up the fake hair glow as a separate thing. I’ve gotten much better at that, which makes me smile inside. Not outside, I don’t want her to think I’m more of a freak.
As my power built and I focused, I couldn’t help thinking that things would be easier if this came with an instruction manual. Like waaaay easier. Instead? Not so much.
I began walking her through what I was doing, yet again, then let my magic sink into the marble. As it did, my dialogue stuttered to a stop. I simply couldn’t continue as something very, very different happened. In every prior attempt, it was like I was reaching into…not nothing, just not something useful. This time? It’s like looking into a hall of mirrors. Every surface was reflective. Every one. The image bounces back and forth millions of times on these tiny mirrors, and it’s the strangest thing.
She touched my arm, “Are you okay?”
It was almost jarring to pull out a little, “Uhh…I think so? Hold on, this is different.”
“What’s different?”
“I…I don’t know. I need to look at this more.” I know my voice was drifty sounding, I just can’t seem to care.
The funhouse mirrors took all of my attention as more and more power flowed into the marble from every angle.
I can see where my magic is flowing in, which means I can see from every side, so to speak, and it’s the same all the way around. Yet…yet I can pick up paths through the mirrors. It’s hard as hell, with the only real way that I’m picking it up being that I’m flooding the thing with power, and that doesn’t care about the reflections.
As more and more power flows in, I can feel the marble heating up in my hand. It’s taking way more power than anything I’ve tried to create a charm in before. There’s something about the reflections that’s allowing a massive amount of power into a small package. It doesn’t make sense, yet it’s happening and it’s getting stronger the deeper I go in.
There’s a world of power in here as my sight moves towards the middle of the space. The visual that I have keeps extending and expanding, all the while contracting and coming in closer. It’s such a weird feeling that I can’t even begin to describe it. I’m feeling like I’m experiencing contradicting things at the same time, yet I’ll stand by the description. That’s the only way that makes sense.
Then my mind is blown as I reach what I think is the center. My visual comes together from a billion different directions, all looking inward at…something. Something that’s not something. My power trembles and packs in behind where I’m focused, seeing it from every direction at once. There’s something about it. It’s a space that doesn’t exist, yet it’s very, very real. It’s right there. So close. I just know, somehow, that I’m not understanding something.
Until it clicks as my vision flows around and around the inside of an infinitesimally small ball, staring at the same point.
This is the center of the marble. Maybe not the physical center, but the paths inside that I followed? This is the center. All paths lead out from here. I followed every path from the outside all the way in, and this is where it led me. This is the spider monitoring the web. This is the distribution center.
This is the home where a spell would live.
With that realization, even more power rockets in, giving me a faint whisp of burning skin that I don’t care about. I want this to work. I want some success here. As my spell starts building, I can feel it anchoring in. The foundations are sinking inside and creating what’s needed for my spell to take. This is something I never felt with anything else before. Now I can fe
el it. Nothing in anything I ever read talked about this. Ever. Yet I can feel it. The spell will live here, and it will send power out through the funhouse mirrors, every twist and turn ramping up the power like a laser, until it passes through the outer layer.
This is simply amazing.
With that thought, the marble is full of power, and I’m shot back out to hit the back of the couch, ramming my head into the wall.
Alicia is in the same spot, but she looks freaked out when I manage to turn to her. I feel beat. “You okay?” My voice cracks more than once.
“Am…am I okay? Are you fucking with me?”
“No? Why?”
Her eyes dart down, then back up, getting me to look at the marble.
Oh, huh. “That ought to hurt.”
She barked a laugh, “That ought to hurt? Do you have any idea how long you’ve been working on that fucking thing?”
Hmm, “20 minutes?”
She hit me with a pillow, “Four fucking hours, Maddie!” She stood up, “Your fucking hand started burning like 15 minutes into it. Maybe a little more. I thought, nah, she’ll stop. Surely she’d stop. Did you stop? No! You kept going! I put your hand out with water a dozen times. Maybe more. You kept going. You started screaming about an hour into it. Then laughing maybe two hours in. Then you’d go back and forth. I’ve never…I can’t even begin to guess what the fuck was happening. Your fucking hand!”
My hand is a black, charred mess. Given how I handle fire, that has to mean that this thing was really hot. “Umm, hold on?” My throat sounds way better than it did, so I pulled at more magic and flared it through myself, getting my hand to heal in about 30 seconds.
Oof, I worked my magic hard, I can feel it. I’m not strained, but I definitely feel like I’ve been working my ass off.
She sat back down, “You’re too fucking much. I can’t even guess how you did any of that. Now, what the fuck happened? Did it work or not?”
I held up the marble and smiled at her. I’m not sure if it’s because I made it, but I can feel the power in it. I can’t really feel the charms she made, although I can feel when they trigger. This one? It’s like feeling a spell set on ten. An amp turned all the way up. A supercar engine rumbling at a red light.
“I think it might have.”
Pointing it towards the wall, I thought about what I wanted, and activated it with a mumbled word that I knew she wouldn’t be able to hear. You don’t always have to use a word to activate a charm, that’s just the default. I have it set up to work mentally as well.
A brilliant light cast out and hit the wall. She stood up again, “What in the name of all that is holy…?”
“Uhh, it worked?”
She squinted at me, “It worked? It shouldn’t be that bright! I’ve never seen a flashlight spell that bright before!”
“Umm, sorry?” This time I used mental commands to dim it, then I changed the width of the light and then the color. Made it blink. Then I started making it narrower and narrower, until a thin beam shot out. It cut off when I saw smoke.
At which point she drifted up to the wall and touched it, “You fucking burned the paint. With a flashlight. How is that possible?”
“Uhh…I don’t know? I don’t know why that worked. Or why it worked so well. I had no idea I was working on it that long. None. I put a ton of power into it in that time, though.”
She sat again, “You’re something else. Seriously. I’ve never gotten glass to work. It’s rare for anyone to get it to work, so of course you’d get it to work and it works beyond anything I can picture.” Her eyes were riveted on the burned paint. “That’s freaking insane.”
“Sorry? I don’t mean to be weird.” My inner debate about giving her the marble went back and forth before I pushed my way up and held onto it. “Now I have to see if I can come up with a way for a charm to help me with the spells.”
“Yeah, you do. Everyone is getting antsy.”
“I’ll see what I can do. Like we said, I won’t risk my life for this, but I’m willing to help if I can.”
“Which I appreciate.” She stood again, “Okay, I gotta open the store. I’m supposed to have a few folks come through today.”
“Thank you for meeting with me. I’m gonna head out and get some food. Did you get the information I sent on the massages?”
Her smile was huge, “Yeah. I’ll give it to everyone there tomorrow. Thank you for that. I know they’ll love them.”
“Cool.” I gave her another hug. I bought two massages for each of the stricken they’re helping. I hoped it would help them at least a little. “I’ll head out. I wanted to check for some other gifts for people.”
She frowned, “I thought you were kinda holding out on your own?”
“Somewhat. Mostly. Just not fully. I wanted to get some things for people. I’m thinking about getting something for everyone, I just don’t want to mess with that if I can. I have a feeling people will think I’m setting them up for something.”
“Yeah, no, don’t do that.”
“I’m leaning that way, but I’m not saying no yet.”
“Good luck either way. Thank you for stopping in. I’m glad I could help.”
“Thank you. I’ll let you know if I’m successful with something that I think can help.”
“Only you.” One more hug done, I headed out, leaving her to open the store as I walked through the thick snow. I still don’t have a jacket or gloves or a hat on, but most people will see the hair and eyes and assume I either have a spell running or I’m a weird dragon since I have white hair and eyes, and the temperature doesn’t really bother me.
Just like the cop car that slowed, and the poor woman stared at me in shock. I gave her a happy wave, so at least she knew I wasn’t freezing to death and was somehow hiding it. Sure, she was shocked as hell, but at least I wasn’t being tackled and dragged into her car wrapped in a thousand blankets.
I swear that I remember being cold. At least somewhat. Skiing as a kid? We didn’t do it a ton, but I do remember more than a few trips for it. I remember having the same arguments I heard other kids having about not being cold, while the parents want them to get wrapped up. I just don’t remember really feeling as cold as it seems others feel it. I never noticed it when I was little, that’s for sure. Not at all. I like being snuggly and warm, but I’m out here in Montana in December and I’m not against getting naked and lying in the snow just for the experience. Hell, flying here was probably enough to put a norm in the hospital. The wind on top of everything else?
I know other dragons don’t react to the cold like a norm would, I’m just not sure if I feel it less than they do or not. I’d have to think that most of what I feel is about the same. We can all fly high and things like that, so that has to mean that much of this is more being a dragon than my strange ability to work with every affinity.
First stop? How about some food? Funny, but working on something for hour upon hour really makes the hunger grow. It’s funny like that. I’m not quite at the point of wanting to kill and eat the next person I come across, yet…maybe a dog? I could see possibly doing that. Or a cat? Then maybe finding something larger to eat?
Instead of resorting to pet-icide, I headed for some food. Not the little diner I ate in last year. Not this time. I loved the place; I just don’t want to invite trouble to their door if I can help it. What with more students being out and about right now.
Crap, I had really hoped to avoid dealing with other students. I really, really did. I have a bad feeling that if I went to that little diner, trouble would follow me. I seriously hoped to sidestep any possibilities of running into people. No part of me expected that bit of experimentation to take as long as it did. Or char my hand, for that matter.
Scents are weird in the cold, so I didn’t smell the restaurant until I was very nearly to the front door. I’m even downwind of it, so you’d think that something would carry to me. Or, more than what I’m vaguely smelling. Apparently not?
; The place isn’t a diner, but it’s close. The one I stayed away from is like a locals-only kind of place. Small. Quiet. Out of the way. This one is on the main road here, which means it gets people passing through. And students. And since people only pass through this area of Montana for the school? You know it’s populated with kids from school. Well, along with other kids from the local areas that aren’t mages or dragons.
I can’t forget that those kids exist. Hell, I was one pretty much for nine years. Not that I could have fit in with them. Lord knows having inch thick black metal plates bolted into your eye sockets doesn’t let you mix and mingle with normal kids all that much.
Although now that I think about it? I’m an adult. Freaky, right? I keep forgetting that. I think of us as kids because we’re in school, yet we’re all old enough to vote. Buy a house. All of that.
Yet I’ll stick with my kid references.
How many people turn to stare at me when I step into the restaurant?
Trick question, only two people look up. Mainly because the area where people are sitting doesn’t have easy visibility to the front doors. The woman behind the counter nods slowly at seeing me and looks me up and down. The younger girl next to her dropping off a ton of menus does the same.
“How many?” The woman’s voice doesn’t sound judgmental, which is kinda shocking. I’m so used to people giving me crap that when they don’t, I start to wonder about them.
“Just one.”
She nodded, “Put her at 17?”
The younger girl nods and gabs a menu, “Okay, follow me?”
Now there’s the ripple of heads turning I expected. Not that I’m gonna count them. I’m seeing at least eight tables that I believe have kids from school in them. Based on the looks, four are from third year. Two from my year. Two from year one. Unless the locals like to dye their hair like they did in LA? That’s a possibility, I’m just not seeing it, though. Given the nature of our students, most people wouldn’t want to get caught up in the kind of crap that would happen if they ran into us.
My table is right in the middle of all of the tables, which isn’t shocking. I’m pretty sure they’re seating everyone together for a reason. Now, what that reason is is a mystery to me. I’d want to keep them all as far apart as possible. Possibly even in separate buildings. Not here, though.