Fickle Whimsy

After having a few days off from my lessons and a few nights mercifully clear of any spectral encounters or sickness, I finally feel refreshed.

I sit up slowly from my bed, and the woollen blanket pools around my waist.

The door to my room creaks open and Orville’s head appears, his expression a mixture of concern and curiosity. "Good morning, Shikara. Feeling ready for another lesson with Clovis?"

"Yeah I think so." I reply, it’s amusing how comfortable I feel here in such little time.

"Good, breakfast is ready when you are. Don't feel like you have to rush." He disappears as quickly as he arrived, leaving me to the quiet solitude of my room.

I change into the fresh pair of clothes Elara gave me. The fabric is coarse but comforting. It feels like a tangible link to the kindness everyone has shown me here.

I emerge into the main room where a simple spread of bread, butter and some of the fruit I picked out the other day. Orville is already seated, sipping from his mug. He gestures to the chair opposite him. "Help yourself, take what you want." he says, in between bites.

I turn down the offer of a seat. "I think I'll just have some water and a slice of fruit, if that's alright."

A worried frown creases Orville's forehead, but he doesn't press the issue. He simply pushes the pitcher of water towards me while I grab a slice of fruit.

As I pour myself a cup, the memory of Clovis's manic energy and infectious passion for magic stirs a strange mix of apprehension and excitement within me.

It compels me to head out the door quickly with a brief goodbye to Orville. Without a wince of pain or anxiety the walk to Clovis’s takes me less than a few minutes.

There's a short, five-second wait before Clovis’s door opens. Clovis stands there, her expression a curious blend of emotions. "Shikara, you came back." Her voice remains flat despite her slight surprise.

"Of course!" I reply, with a smile. "I wouldn't miss it!" I try to disregard her ever changing nature; my focus is solely on learning.

Clovis steps aside, allowing me to enter. She gestures me to her study room, "Please take a seat in there."

Clovis gets straight to the point, bypassing any pleasantries. "Our lesson the other day was cut short, so we’ll pick up where we left off with Incantations."

She seems bothered, did me leaving early piss her off? I’d hate for her to think I wasn’t interested.

She paces back and forth in front of me, her slender form reminds me of a cat taking its first stretches after a nap.

"Incantation magic," she begins, her voice slowly gaining momentum, "is not bound by the rigid syntax of written magic, nor does it require the intense mental focus of visualization magic."

"Whilst Visualisation and Written magic can use your soul as their source of vitality, Incantations rely solely on the caster’s emotional state." she adds as a small smile plays on her lips.

Clovis points directly at her eyes. "Repeat after me, let my sight be your comfort. Your repose is known only to me. Find peace in my embrace."

I copy the words, my voice a pale imitation of hers. I didn’t expect to be casting magic so soon.

As I speak the final syllable I feel a slight tug at the skin on my face.

Before I can process the feeling, Clovis’s eyes begin to glow with a faint, red light. It's soft, like the embers of a dying fire.

Clovis directs me to look at a mirror on her wall. And my eyes are glowing too but a dimmer dingy yellow and orange. The glow fades within seconds of me observing it.

I look back at Clovis and her eyes are still enveloped with light.

"Why are yours still glowing?" I ask, my voice filled with a genuine, unforced interest.

"It’s because I know what the words mean, what they do, my conviction in the spell is greater than yours. I’m able to pour more emotion, more mannerisms into the incantation, making it more effective. If you use a specific rhythm or cadence it can give the spell more depth or power. But the words themselves are just a vessel; it is the feeling behind them that gives them life." she explains, her gaze fixed on the fading light in my eyes.

A thrill runs through me. The idea that my own emotions, my own performance could make me half decent at magic. It sounds too good to be true.

Clovis continues to watch me. It feels like she can see the spark of my understanding. "Unfortunately incantations can’t make something from nothing, they can only alter what is already there." She flicks her hand out towards me pulling focus to her nails which are now once again unadorned.

"Is that why it took 2 days to heal me? Are healing spells especially costly or difficult?" I ask the question even though I think I know the answer already.

"Good question, and the answer is that they’re both. The incantations for healing spells are long and specific, as well as being emotionally taxing.” She pauses in what looks like contemplation before continuing.

“I apologize if I was short with you when we first met. I had already used much of my emotional bandwidth that day." Clovis looks towards the ground as if she is ashamed that she let herself be so overworked.

"No need to apologize, you were just doing your job, I’m sorry I interrupted your evening!" I let out a small chuckle in hopes it eases her shame.

Clovis responds with a meek laugh herself "You didn’t, I’m used to it. Most people aren’t willing to make the sacrifices that incantation magic requires. Fortunately I’ve had a lifetime of practice.” She lets out a sigh before carrying on.

“Just know that even if I don’t show it, I am always happy to help someone who needs me.” She shakes her body in what appears to be an attempt to shake the weight off of her shoulders.

“Anyways, now that you have heard about all 3 core expressions, which one would you like to focus on first?" Her voice finally takes on her familiar, manic energy.

“Oh uh, let me think.” I catch myself trying to remember the pros and cons of the other 2 expressions.

The old me, the actress within would have chosen incantation magic in a heart beat. It's tailor-made to my skillset.

But as I look at Clovis, at the faint shadows under her eyes, I feel a deep, instinctual fear.

I don’t want to lose my ability to feel again. I've only just started to fill the hollow spaces inside myself. I just need some time to allow myself to be happy and present in this world without being dragged down with magical mood swings.

I can't bear that kind of emptiness anymore.

Clovis might be able to handle it, but I’ve seen first hand the toll it takes on her. I know that strain all too well. And I know it can’t be withstood forever.

Written magic seems too rigid, as well as being a discipline of memorization. Although I am pretty good at memorising scripts, I don’t think the skill will directly translate.

Which leaves me with only one real option. One based on control, focus, and quiet discipline. One that could help me push past my trauma if I let it.

“Hmm, ok I think I’ve made up my mind”