But she knew Astrid wouldn’t let her go rest until she’d answered the question: were her powers still fully intact?
What will happen to me if they aren’t? Will I get sent back to the townhouse in the city?
Astrid stood off to the side, flanked by a pair of illusionist trainees who had constructed an elaborate rainbowed layering of magic: Nuisi, a stout but tall young lord, and Grein, a willowy and unusually-tall young lady, both clad in the silvered robes of apprentices.
Spheres of greens and blues rotated and spun past reds and yellows, each on its own separate trajectory.
The training grounds were in a tall, expansive square structure located a short walk from the manor house. Iron webbing lined the interior of the walls, windows, and roof, preventing all magic from either escaping or entering the building. This provided a safe training space where students of all ages and levels could experiment safe from any magic run wild. Large, black rings painted on the plain flooring demarcated separate training spaces, and today there were students and guilded illusionists in each space, filling the room.
Because I want an audience to witness my potential failure? Argh! No pressure!
Becka wasn’t certain of the exact number of Rowan residing in the territory, but there were rankings on the wall for the current roster of students, showing recent trial scores for all those who were not yet guilded. The list had 175 names under the heading: Illusionists. Becka’s name was on the list, but in a separate column: Nulls.
Again, no pressure, Becka! Not like everyone could see her standing. Except they can.
“Remember,” Astrid spoke, her voice a mere whisper, “you are aiming to deconstruct each layer individually.”
The illusionists’ construction training dovetailed with Becka’s Null deconstruction drills. The students would spend all day, or the day before, weaving powerful and elaborate, layered illusions.
Becka had destroyed each in less than three seconds. Could she still?
“Got it,” Becka replied. “Let’s get on with it.”
A snicker came from the far side of the room. She glanced over and recognized Alvilda and Yaeli, a near-inseparable pair of guilded illusionists. Despite their formal training being years behind them, she’d often noticed them practicing regularly together. The pair always wore coordinating dresses, and today their colors were in hues of lavender and deep purple.
Astrid shook her head at Becka’s impatience. “Remember, gaining control of your gift is your only path forward. Power unmarried to will lies the way to madness.”
Destroying magic had come easier than breathing to Becka. Breaking just the things she wanted to, however, continued to challenge her. Now, Astrid’s warning caused her to redouble her focus. Becka didn’t want to be one of the unfortunate fae-touched who couldn’t control their power and were destined for a life removed from fae society. She didn’t want to be doomed to live out her days in a hermitage so others would remain safe from her. Nor did she want to live with a weak power, yet still fae and guilded and therefore forced to stay within the territories.
All or nothing would be preferable.
“Today, we need to see if your gifts are in any way diminished. Come along now, continue,” Astrid urged.
Becka growled under her breath, stepping near the spinning orb, and then raised her left hand within millimeters of the outermost ring. She had to work extra hard to steady her arm, which already shook visibly with exhaustion and fatigue. Becka’s head ached in response to her proximity to the magic. Her reaction to the magic was less than when she first returned to House Rowan, but nonetheless, she’d been hitting the hot sauce hard.
Since she’d been working with Astrid, Becka had come to a place where she could sense a mild physical resistance of magic to her touch, at least when she was looking for magic. At this moment, Becka energetically sensed the crimson orb as it undulated mere millimeters away from her hand. A spontaneous smile cracked across her face; the sign of progress was small yet tangible.
“I’m still able to sense the magic without unraveling it.”
Astrid nodded, a tense smile upon her face. “That’s reassuring. Now, without moving, imagine moving closer to the crimson orb.”
Becka took a deep breath, and then let it out in a long, slow stream. She imagined moving close enough to touch the magical red layer.
The red orb shivered as if hit by a hammer and then shattered apart, dusting into the surrounding air.
Relief flooded through her. Her magic was as potent as ever and her control hadn’t slipped, despite the poisoning and her present state of exhaustion. “Uh huh, that’s what I’m talking about,” Becka muttered, drawing her hand back and rubbing her hands together.
Becka glanced over at Astrid and the others. At this point, everyone’s attention was on her. Others had gathered to watch, their expectant gazes urging her on as they whispered amongst themselves. Becka knew many in her house weren’t fond of her and she’d overheard their questions as to the relevancy of her Null gift.
Were they taking bets, wondering if the poisoning had broken her? Or were they simply curious bystanders, unable to look away from the show playing out before them? Either way, Becka didn’t appreciate the distraction.
Frowning, Becka brought her attention back to the sphere, focusing on the now revealed green layer. It rotated slowly, appearing to shiver with increasing waves. Curious about what had changed, Becka tilted her head and noticed small particulates of red dust falling against the green sphere.
Moments later, the green sphere shattered. Becka took a step back, the sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach an all-too-familiar sensation this past month. Why couldn’t she master this step?
“Well,” Astrid said, talking over the noise of the orange and lavender layers shattering apart. “It’s not progress, but your ability to manage your power hasn’t suffered, nor has the scope of your gift. Maura will be reassured.”
Becka watched as the innermost silver layer turned into dust. She should be happy for not having lost skill due to the poisoning, versus wishing for improvement each time. She’d been Astrid’s student long enough to read a lack of forward progress as failure.
Astrid’s illusionist students’ shoulders slumped, their expressions looking like they’d eaten overly sour food. Surely after spending all day creating this spectacle, having it destroyed in mere seconds didn’t help their moods.
“The inner layers seemed to take longer to dissolve this time,” Becka said.
Astrid raised a brow at her. “Perhaps.”
Across the room, Yaeli and Alvilda shook their heads, animatedly whispering to each other. Then Yaeli grabbed Alvilda’s hand and pulled her training partner along, heading out the door. Others followed them, the crowd moving on. The show was over for today.
Becka frowned. It wasn’t like either Yaeli or Alvilda displayed rare or potent talents. Illusions came in many forms, not all of them large spinning orbs filled with colors. She’d seen Yaeli’s doppelganger skill a few dozen times now, and although it was amusing, it appeared to be the breadth of her illusionary art. In contrast, she’d learned Alvilda’s gift wasn’t even creating illusions directly, but in spinning tales that mentally transported those around her into another world or changing subtle elements within her surroundings.