Series: Willow Winters
Total pages in book: 103
Estimated words: 94417 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 472(@200wpm)___ 378(@250wpm)___ 315(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 94417 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 472(@200wpm)___ 378(@250wpm)___ 315(@300wpm)
No—I know it exists. I know it in my bones and my gown. I know it like I know the solidity of the floor beneath me. This is the cycle. This is hope and perseverance. This is refusing to let death have its way.
This is faith in the Gods, but it is also faith in myself. In me, there is possibility, and that possibility comes from magic itself. It gives itself to me freely. I take it freely. Like water droplets falling from my fingers. Like new buds pushing above the soil. They know the warmth is above them. They never doubt.
I will not doubt.
I do not doubt.
Allow it. Allow it. I do not know if what I feel is hope or my powers returning. The two may be the same thing.
I take another breath and add the words of the spell written on the parchment colored with age and crinkled. I will guide the magic with words from others who have seen protection and growth.
“The power inside me craves the light,” I begin, the spell taking on a new resonance as I speak the words. "Bring me the warmth of fire and take from the powers to my right."
I blow on the candle. The faintest ember at the wick glows to life. My breath is caught and goosebumps flow over my skin. The skies darken and I repeat the words more confidently and louder.
“The power inside me craves the light. Bring me the warmth of fire and take from the powers to my right." I blow again, and the ember disappears.
I take a deep breath and hold the feeling of the spell in my mind. It is a protection spell. It is a release. Whatever plagues me will no longer harm me. I will be protected and freed. Protected and freed. I vanquish the harm inside of me. I release it. I guide it out. I stare at the budding flame and I whisper with every need in me, fear and anger, the hope and the love I have for what I know I’m meant to be.
"The power inside me craves the light. Bring me the warmth of fire and take from the powers to my right."
This time, the flame bursts into life on top of the candle, and hope burns bright in my heart.
"The power inside me craves the light. Bring me the warmth of fire and take from the powers to my right."
Tears brim as the warmth from the flame is felt on my face.
It burns. Light in the dark, spilling a pool of warmth onto my altar. My hands over the crystals cast shadows in the dancing flame.
This is the warmth I felt all around me as I came to my chambers. This is the warmth of magic. This is the warmth that dwells within me and calls the flowers to the sun.
I was so hopeless that I was willing to dismiss Beatrice’s words before. But she was right.
The Gods are gifted, but magic is for all of us. Allow the possibility of magic working. That is all you must do. Simply allow it.
I heard Beatrice’s words, but I did not allow myself to understand. Not until now.
I force my next breath to be steady, even as tears prick my eyes. They are tears of triumph. My hand is warm over the crystals. The flame is hot in the night. My own life runs hot through my veins.
"As within, so without," I say, my voice strong and steady, "I am at peace." I blow out the candle, concluding the spell.
What I do not expect is the chill that sweeps over me. The sudden drop in my chest. I attempt to grip forward but nothing is there.
Everything plunges into darkness. A sweep of bitter cold bites through me.
It is not the darkness of moonlight through the window, shining smoothly in. It is complete darkness, as if I've lost my sight.
My vision is gone.
I blink, my heart racing and my mind whirling with fear, waiting for it to clear, but it does not. The hairs on the back of my neck stand up. I drag in one breath, then another.
I do not wish to release the panic into the air around me. I do not jump up for fear that I will be lost in my own room. But my heart beats faster, as if the power I called on is too large for my body and too large for my control.
I choke on the panic. I've done something wrong, haven't I? I've done something wrong, and I don't know what it means.
I nearly scream out for help. As if a curse has descended in the wake of my spell.
Did I make myself mortal? Did I blow the last of my powers out of me with my breath? Or have I become even more immortal? Have I become something new?