Chapter 7: A Touch of Magic

“Wakey wakey, Mister Hero!”

Jack opened his eyes to find Eleanor staring directly into his. She kneeled beside his bedroll, leaning over his, her face only a few inches away. She was close enough that he could feel the heat radiating off her. It was like being near a space heater. He jerked fully awake and scrambled back involuntarily, and it took several heartbeats for his brain to process where he was. Seeing his reaction, Eleanor giggled. She covered her mouth as she did, her laughter light and tinkling, like a bell.

“I wasn’t expecting that. Did I scare you?” She asked.

Jack rolled his eyes and sat up.

“You startled me. I wasn’t expecting to wake up to… that. You couldn’t just wake me up normally?” He said, rubbing his eye.

She grinned, straightening up and putting her hands behind her back. Her tail swished playfully back and forth behind her.

“I would normally apologize, but in this case, I’m not sorry. It’s your own fault for sleeping until midday and making me come get you. Next time, I might just throw a pail of water on you instead.” She said, her grin turning wicked.

“...Please don’t.”

Eleanor stood, straightening and standing lightly on her tiptoes.

“You’ve already missed breakfast, but lunch should be ready soon. Get dressed and come down. I’ve already finished my chores for the day, so as soon as you finish eating, we can start your magic training.” She said. She turned to go, but stopped at the ladder and turned back to him.

“Oh, and eat a lot. You’re gonna need all the energy you can get.”

Jack nodded, then yawned.

“You got it.”

Once the girl was out of the barn, Jack slid out the bedroll and pulled his pants and boots on. Sensing he might need it, he also grabbed his newly-acquired gambeson. He wasn’t about to put it on, but having it around, considering the possibility of him accidentally making something explode during training, seemed prudent.

Outside the barn, the day was clear and warm, with a gentle breeze and a few small clouds dotting the sky. Rose stood at a line strung between two wooden posts, hanging wet laundry on it with wooden clips. Her hair, which had previously framed her face, was pulled up and behind her ears with clips. Seeing him approaching, she gave him a nod.

“Sleep well?” She asked, wiping away a bit of sweat from her forehead with the sleeve of the tunic she was wearing. It was off-white, loose in the sleeves, slimmer in the stomach, and snug beneath and around her bustline. It reminded him a bit of the loose shirts he’d seen fencers or medieval peasants wear, only those hadn’t been as snug around the chest, or as low cut. While the shirt was not immodest by any means, Jack still found himself having to avoid giving attention to the way it flattered her figure.

“What gave it away?” He asked, walking over to the basket and picking up a shirt and a couple pins to help.

“You seem a little better than you did yesterday.” Rose said, smiling. “Happier. Or, at least, less sad.”

“Sleep helped, I think. Talking to Ellie also helped.” He said, hanging the shirt on the line.

“She’s good at that sort of thing. She always tends to look on the bright side and help other people see it too.” Rose said, straightening the set of trousers she’s just hung on the line. Faint bits of steam rose from where her fingers pinched the fabric as she did so.

“Looking on the bright side of things has never been my strong suit.” Jack admitted, grabbing another shirt from the basket. “I wish it was.”

“It’s not easy… especially when you’re faced with unexpected loss.” Rose seemed to lose herself in thought for a moment, before seeming to return to her senses and giving him a warm smile. “All we can do is keep moving forward and do our best, right?”

Jack nodded, clipping the shirt on the clothesline.

“I suppose you’re right.” He said.

Rose glanced down into the laundry basket.

“Looks like that’s the last of it.” She said, picking it up. “Maddy’s probably finished with preparing lunch. Let’s go eat.”

Inside the house, they were greeted with the smell of something savory, and what smelled a bit like bread. Madeleine sat in front of the fireplace, looking intently at a large metal pan resting on the open coals of a fire.

“It’s just about finished. Just waiting for the crust to finish browning.” She said, not shifting her eyes from whatever she was making.

“Mutton or chicken?” Rose asked, dropping the basket by the door and taking a seat at the table.

“Chicken, with carrots and potatoes. There’s also some hazha root in there too, I think.” Ellie said, carrying a pitcher of something from the kitchen counter to the table. Beads of condensation were already starting to form on the outside of the container, despite the temperature inside the house. Curious, Jack peered inside as she set it down. It was dark, almost wine-like, and there, floating right in the middle were several large chunks of ice. Oh, right. Magic is a thing here. I keep forgetting that.

“Hazha root and bloodweed.” Madeleine said idly.

Jack had no idea what either of those things were. He also had no idea if they were things that had existed in the life he used to have, though he doubted it. There was something very… not real about the names. It was hard to put a finger on what exactly he meant when he had the thought, but it made enough sense for now that he wasn’t about to try and make it make sense any further.

After a few more moments, Madeleine reached in and picked up the pan with her bare hands, and walked it to the table. Seeing it up close, it reminded Jack a bit of a pot pie. It smelled amazing. Inside, there were large chunks of meat and vegetables. The hazha root ended up being thin and narrow, like a spindly carrot, and tasted a bit like squash. The bloodweed leaves were harder to detect at first. They weren’t much larger than his pinky nail, and a deep reddish rust color. They had a strong flavor when he tasted one of the little leaves by themselves, almost like a mixture of cinnamon and cilantro. It wasn’t unpleasant, but it was strange.

As they ate, Jack realized for the first time that Simon wasn’t with them. When he asked about it, Rose told him that Simon had taken a trek to a village a few days away to sell goods and trade for supplies. This was apparently a regular occurrence, and while he was away, the three of them would watch the farm in his absence.

Once lunch was eaten and the dishes cleared away, Ellie excitedly tied a familiar pouch to the belt around her waist and scooped up her carved staff, which rested by the door.

“C’mon, Mister Hero! Let’s go play!” She said, nearly skipping out the door.

Jack cocked an eyebrow at Madeleine, who sat beside him. The girl rolled her eyes, but said nothing. He stood, and followed her out. Eleanor led him around the back of the house, and past the barn and animal pens into the open field beyond. Once they were perhaps fifty paces out, she turned to him, clutching her staff in both hands and grinning widely.

“Alright, so, you don’t have any spell components at the moment, and I don’t think you have a soulbond, since you don’t have a familiar or a spellfocus. That’ll make things a little harder, and limit what you can do for now, but don’t worry, you’ll still pick it up in no time, I promise!” She said.

She looked him up and down, then looked a bit confused.

“Did you not bring your spellbook with you?” She asked.

Jack shook his head, realizing there was a bit of a misunderstanding.

“I don’t have one. I’m not a wizard. I… well, I don’t actually know what I am, but I think I might be a Sorcerer.” He said, scratching his chin.

“Aww.” Ellie said, seeming momentarily deflated.

“Spontaneous casting is a lot trickier, and unless you do it yourself, it’s apparently a little difficult to grasp the nuances of.”

It was Jack’s turn to feel deflated.

“Oh…”

Ellie waved the emotion away.

“Don’t worry. I do know something about that too, although it does mean I won’t be able to help you nearly as much.” She said. “All students at the Academy are required to take courses that teach about each of the major types of Gifting. It makes it easier to know how to identify them and respond to them.”

She looked at him, resting her staff gently against her shoulder.

“While all different kinds of Giftings each have their own unique quirks, there are really still only two different kinds of magic that we know of. The first is magic you yourself perform, and the second is magic someone or something else performs on your behalf or grants you the ability to perform.” She said.

“Arcane magic versus divine magic.”

“Exactly.” Eleanor said, nodding.

“So it works similar to some of the ideas I’m familiar with. That’s good, at least.” He said.

“Well, if you’re a spontaneous caster, then I suppose we need to figure out how it manifests. Even with Sorcery, there are many different types, and each one of them behaves a little differently. If we’re going to help you learn how to use it, that’s going to be step number one.”

She shifted her stance a little bit, resting the end of her staff on the ground and let go. The staff remained in place, standing perfectly upright after she let go. She made a small gesture with her hands, and a faint jet of blue fire appeared at the end of her index finger.

“Using what you already know, I want you to do this.” She said, motioning to the tiny dancing flame on her fingertip.

Jack looked at it for a moment, then nodded. He closed his eyes and held out his hand, pointer finger extended. He took a deep breath, and willed a candle flame to appear on the end of his finger. As he did so, a collection of words poured into his head, as if he’d turned on a tap and his mind was a cup filled with them. The flow was not overwhelming like it had been before, and while he didn’t necessarily feel fully in control, it also didn't feel like his head was about to explode.

Jack grit his teeth. Maintaining focus was hard. He found the more distracted he became, the greater the flood in his mind became, the familiar overwhelming pressure beginning to build inside his head. Noticing this, it seemed clear to him that his mental precision was going to be a key part of using his Gifting. If he let his attention drift even slightly, he could lose the spell he was attempting to cast. Realizing this, he tried to focus, crystallizing his intent and conceptualizing it in clearer and clearer detail. Eleanor was saying something else now, but as he drew further into trying to clear everything else out of the picture, he found he could no longer understand her. The flood of words in his mind gradually slowed, first back to where it had started, then eventually to a trickle, then it seemed to cease, leaving him with a head full of gibberish to sort through. He concentrated further, reiterating in his mind what it was that he wanted. He focused on every attribute in turn, first heat, then light, then small size, then location, and on and on. As he did so, he felt words fade from his mind, slowly emptying out one by one. A few moments he felt his focus begin to drift, and every time it did, new ones would appear. He had to work not to get frustrated at these small setbacks, because that frustration would only add even more. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, everything was clear. Four small word fragments remained floating in his mind’s eye. As he reiterated his desire on final time, the four pieces clicked into place, and the final resulting word began to shine ever so slightly in his head. He spoke the word aloud.

“Rachnomastra.”

As he did so, he felt a slight draining sensation from somewhere deep inside of him. He opened his eyes to see a small jet of red-orange flame dancing playfully at the end of his finger.

“Oh hey, it worked.” He said, feeling a strange combination of pride, surprise, and relief.

Eleanor clapped her hands, grinning.

“Well done! Now, how did you do it? Talk me through your process. The more details you can give me, the more I will probably be able to help.” She said.

He described the sensation to her, from the flood of words and the pressure to everything finally clicking into place.

“There’s only one type of Sorcery that works like that. You’re a Nameweaver.” She replied after a moment’s silence. She sounded oddly reverent as she said it.

Jack frowned slightly.

“What does that mean? Is that bad?” He asked.

“Oh no, it’s not bad. It’s just… rare. I’ve only read about them in books. I’ve never actually gotten to meet one in person before.” She said.

She cocked her head and looked at him.

“How do you feel? You look a little pale.”

Jack blinked, then shook his head to clear it.

“I dunno. I don’t feel tired. At least, my body doesn’t. But I feel like my mind is exhausted. And I also feel… drained, somehow.” He said. It was hard to describe it. It reminded him a bit of the times his blood sugar had gotten out of whack as a child. Weak, light-headed, shaky, drowsy, and unable to maintain focus. But even that wasn’t quite right. It felt like the energy had literally been sucked right out of him.

Eleanor nodded sagely at his description.

“That’s normal for new spellcasters. I had the same thing when I first started. Your Spirit and Psyche aren’t used to being worked out, and as a result even a little effort can feel exhausting. It gets easier the more you do it. All we have to do is- oh.”

Jack’s legs buckled underneath him, and he crumpled onto the grassy ground, staring up at the sky. The world was spinning, and he was feeling more tired by the second. Eleanor crossed the ground between them in a few steps.

“Dismiss the spell, silly. Otherwise you’re gonna end up knocking yourself out.” She said.

Jack looked up at her. She was a fuzzy outline. She was saying something, but for the life of him he couldn’t make heads or tails of what it was. Diss Mister Bell? Who in the hell was Mister Bell? And why did he need to be dissed?

Seeing that Jack wasn’t seeming to understand her, Eleanor sighed and squatted down next to him, gently laying her bare hand against his. There was a faint sizzle, and Jack shot up, howling and clutching his hand. The little fire on the end of his fingertip fizzled out. There was a small charred spot in the grass where it had been resting.

“What was that for?” Jack asked through gritted teeth as he clutched his singed hand in the other.

“Feel better?” She asked.

“You know, I… yeah.” He said, surprised. He still felt drained and a bit out of sorts, but already he could feel himself starting to improve. “What did you do?”

Eleanor stood up and brushed the front of her dress off.

“I caused a large enough shock to cause you to fumble your spell. If I hadn’t, you’d have put yourself into a very long sleep and I’d have had to throw you over my shoulder and carry you back to the house.” The idea seemed to amuse her.

“You mean just having that little fire was enough to completely wear me out?” Jack asked, grimacing as he worked his way to his feet.

“‘Fraid so.” Eleanor said, hands behind her back as she stepped lightly back to her still-standing staff and picked it back up. She turned back to him, giving it an artful twirl as she did so.

“If it makes you feel any better, most people don’t even manage to get a spell off the first time before they black out.”

She walked back to where he stood, and motioned with her head towards the house.

“Let’s go get you some food. You’ve probably completely burned through lunch already.” She said. As if on cue, Jack’s stomach rumbled loudly. He felt like he hadn’t eaten in days. The two of them walked back to the house. Madeleine sat in the grass in front of it again, this time whetting a small knife with a stone. She glanced up at their approach.

“How’d he do?” She asked.

“Terrible.” Jack said.

“Great.” Ellie said.

They both spoke at the exact same moment, then looked at each other. Madeleine cocked an eyebrow and returned to whetting the stone.

“There’s food on the table, if that’s what you’re here for.” She said.

The two of them walked in to find a small spread of leftovers from their last couple of meals on the table. Without hesitation, Jack rushed over and dove in, barely finding a seat as he started shoveling food into his mouth. Eleanor laughed, dropping onto the seat beside him.

“Take it easy! You’re gonna choke yourself!”

Jack gave her a sideward glance. He suddenly had an evil idea. He shoveled more food into his mouth, then, stopping suddenly, he set about clenching the muscles in his torso and neck until his face turned purple. He dropped what was in his hands and put his hands around his throat. That’s what people do when they’re choking, right?

He looked over at Eleanor, adopting a look of fear. Her expression shifted from amusement to concern to panic in a rush. She shot up from her chair and hurriedly drew a flurry of glyphs in the air with her fingers. They vanished, and to his absolute shock, she reached out and took his face in her hands. They were still very warm, but pleasant. Less of a bonfire and more of a heated blanket. Then, without a single shred of warning, she leaned forward and pressed her lips against his. They were the same warmth as her hands, and soft, and before he knew it his head was swimming. He’d been kissed before, but this… this was something else entirely. It was as if contact with her itself was something more than just normal touch. He struggled to keep a grip on himself as he felt every single fiber of his body relax, every single nerve alight with tingling excitement. Then suddenly, he felt an intense sucking sensation, like someone had stuck a vacuum hose in his mouth. She’s trying to suck whatever’s stuck free, he realized. His chest collapsed as all of the air was sucked out of it in one single gasp. Eleanor pulled away, giving him a look of confusion as he started coughing. Jack, coming out of his stupor, couldn’t suppress a smirk as he stifled a laugh. Eleanor’s eyes widened as the realization she’d been duped set in, and shifted to indignation.

“You… you… piece of….” She sputtered, struggling to find the right insult.

“Sorry.” Jack said, grinning. “I couldn’t resist.”

“And I even…” She said, pressing her fingers to her lips in realization. She was blushing furiously.

Jack scratched the back of his head sheepishly.

“Yeah, I didn’t know that was going to happen. We… don’t deal with choking that way where I come from.” He said. To his surprise he found himself flushing as well.

Ellie pressed her hands together in her lap, looking away awkwardly. She cleared her throat.

“Yes, well. Now you know.” She said. Her tail, normally swaying gently behind her, was now instead wrapped around her torso, almost like she was hugging herself with it.

She looked up at him, her honey-colored eyes awkward and shy.

“Please… just don’t scare me like that again, okay?”

Jack nodded, feeling his heart pounding in his chest. God, has she always been this cute?

“I won’t.” He said. “I promise.”

She stood, her tail gently unwrapping itself from around her. She turned to leave, then stopped, seeming to struggle with something. She shook her head, and without another word walked out of the room.