Chapter 53: Her Magic

Elara:

For nearly an hour, I had been staring at my palm as though sheer determination could force magic to crawl out of it. Apparently, it couldn’t.

I tried the spell again, carefully pronouncing every word Kairo had taught me, and waited. Obviously, nothing happened. Not a spark, not a ripple, not even a pathetic little puff of smoke appeared. The only thing I felt was that familiar flutter of warmth spreading beneath my skin before fading away.

I exhaled through my nose and tried again. Still nothing. "This is ridiculous," I muttered, staring at my empty palm. "I have been doing this for almost an hour."

From the other side of the living room came an exaggerated sigh. "Yes, and somehow you have managed to remain completely useless for all sixty minutes."

My head snapped toward Crazy so quickly that I genuinely considered grabbing the nearest cushion and throwing it at him.

"One more comment," I warned, narrowing my eyes at the cat lounging on the armchair, "and I’m throwing you off the balcony."

Crazy merely blinked at me before lazily licking one paw. "Violence against your only magical adviser. How very Princess-like of you."

I clenched my teeth. "Then advise me instead of sitting there judging me."

For once, he didn’t immediately throw another sarcastic remark at me. Honestly, he was much much better when he couldn’t speak. He studied me for nearly a minute, his tail slowly swishing behind him. Then he finally jumped down from the chair and padded toward me, his expression unusually thoughtful.

"Your magic doesn’t seem to respond to ordinary attempts," he said. "It reacts when you are experiencing strong emotional turmoil."

I frowned. "Does it?"

He stopped a few feet away and looked up at me. "Think about it. The first time you felt anything was the night your family was killed. You were terrified, broken, and desperate. You were drowning in emotions when that warmth appeared inside you."

My fingers curled slightly as the images of that night flashed through my mind.

"And the second time..." I whispered, remembering the hallway outside my dorm. The flying objects. The panic. The people staring at me. The chaos that had nearly turned dangerous before Lorien arrived. "I was emotional then too."

Crazy nodded. "Exactly. You weren’t consciously trying to use magic either time. It simply happened."

I stared at my palm again. It made an uncomfortable amount of sense. "So what am I supposed to do? Get myself emotionally devastated every time I want to cast a spell?"

"Preferably not," Crazy said dryly. "Especially since I would like to keep you from developing additional psychological damage."

I shot him a look, but he continued before I could answer. "You need to find your emotional triggers. Something powerful enough to break through the seal, even if only for a moment."

My mind immediately returned to the night my family died, and my chest tightened.

Crazy seemed to notice because his ears flattened. "Don’t." His voice was unusually firm. "Do not use your family or that night as your trigger. You are already suffering enough from those memories."

I swallowed hard and nodded. He was right. I didn’t want to deliberately drag myself back into that nightmare just to make a drop of water appear in my hand.

"But if not that..." I glanced around my dorm. "What else do I have?"

For a moment, neither of us spoke. Happiness? I hadn’t experienced enough of it since arriving here to know whether it would work. Fear? I had plenty of that, but I didn’t want to summon it deliberately. Sadness? There was more than enough of that too, but again, I wasn’t willing to tear open wounds just to test a theory.

"It doesn’t have to be pain," Crazy finally said. "Emotions aren’t limited to sadness and fear. Anger works. Happiness might work. Excitement. Frustration. Even affection." He paused, then his eyes suddenly narrowed with what I immediately recognized as mischief. "Actually, I have an excellent suggestion."

I already disliked the sound of that. Still, I asked, "What?"

"Reign Valemont."

I stared at him before announcing, "Absolutely not."

"Why not?"

"Because I don’t want to spend my evening thinking about that arrogant, insufferable-" I stopped.

Crazy’s tail flicked as he spoke, "You are proving my point."

I glared at him before sighing. "I hate that you are right."

Reign Valemont had somehow become the most reliable source of irritation in my new life. Every time I thought about him, my blood pressure probably increased by ten points. He had insulted me, threatened me, mocked me, cornered me, and repeatedly reminded me that I supposedly couldn’t survive without him. If anger was what my magic needed, there was perhaps no better trigger available to me.

So I closed my eyes.

I thought about the first night I met him. The way he had looked at me as though I were some ignorant girl who had wandered into a world far beyond her understanding.

I recalled him calling me a groundling, his smug expression when he told me I needed him, the way he had looked at my clothes as though my upbringing had somehow made me inferior, the staircase and his arms around me when I nearly fell, followed immediately by another insult. I recalled every smug smile, every condescending word, every threat.

My breathing gradually changed, and then I felt the warmth inside me stir.

I thought about him telling me I would regret crossing him. I thought about the way he had looked at me after I refused his help. I thought about his friends laughing while I was humiliated in class. I thought about how alone I had felt in those moments, surrounded by people who apparently thought I was nothing more than a princess who needed to be taught her place.

My fingers curled into fists.

"Now," Crazy said quietly. "Don’t fight the anger. Use it."

I opened my eyes and lifted my hand, focusing on the warmth beneath my skin. It was stronger now. Much stronger. It spread from my palm toward my wrist, then up my arm like liquid heat.

My heart hammered against my ribs as I repeated the spell again, but this time I wasn’t trying to force magic into existence. I was giving it somewhere to go.

Something shimmered above my palm. My breath caught as a tiny sphere of translucent blue appeared in the air.

For one impossible second, I simply stared at the water droplet. It wasn’t perfect. It trembled violently, its shape barely holding together, but it was there. Actual magic. My magic.

"Elara!" Crazy exclaimed.

The droplet vanished.

I blinked and stared at my empty palm. Then a laugh escaped me before I could stop it. "I did it," I whispered.

Crazy’s eyes gleamed with satisfaction. "You did."

I tried again. But again nothing happened. I tried once more. Still nothing.

The warmth flickered but refused to become anything tangible. Apparently, one successful attempt was all my magic was willing to give me today.

And strangely enough, I wasn’t disappointed.

For the first time since arriving at Moonveil Academy, I had undeniable proof that there was something inside me waiting to be awakened.

I had magic.

It was weak. Unstable. Sealed. But it was mine. And that tiny droplet had been enough to prove that one day, I would break through that seal.

I just needed to figure out how.