If I had magic, I was determined to figure out how to use it. The sensation had been fiery, so I focused on that. I imagined a ball of fire in the palm of my hand. I pictured it in my mind.

As I did, it felt as if my blood all rushed to my hand, pooling there. But that wasn’t quite right, either. Not my blood. My energy, or something. I didn’t have the vocabulary to describe it. I wanted someone to explain this all to me, but that wasn't a luxury I had.

The energy collected there, and I felt the warmth in my hand, but nothing happened. I focused harder. Beads of sweat fell once more off my brow. My body shook as my arm tensed. It felt like I would pop a blood vessel. I could feel the fire there, I could feel warmth just under my skin, I could almost see it there, a reddening of the skin in my palm, a rippling underneath. It was so close.

But nothing happened.

I collapsed as I let out the tension, let the energy flow back into the rest of my body. Though unsuccessful, the attempt was exhausting.

“Something feels different,” I said. “Either I’ve finally lost it, or there’s something there. There’s got to be a trick to it. What do you think, Tom?”

I turned towards where Tom sat against the tree. He was eating a strange fruit like an apple, though I couldn’t imagine where he had gotten it from. He smiled at me.

“I think you’re right,” he said. “I think you’re just doing something wrong, something simple. Maybe… maybe you’re too tense? Maybe you need to let it flow with more grace, y’know? I’ve never seen a wizard in a videogame or a movie look like he’s constipated whenever he casts a spell.”

I laughed. So simple. As always, Tom had the answers. What would I do without him?

I tried to move the “energy” that I had felt earlier, but slowly. I didn’t force it through, I guided it. The feeling before had felt like sucking a milkshake through a straw that was too small for it. This felt like running your hands through water. The energy collected in my hand again.

But no fire. Maybe I have to will it away from me, or something, I thought.

I stood up, feet spread wide, my right hand held out before me. I willed the energy out of my hand.

Nothing.

I tried again. “Fireball!” I yelled, thinking for some reason that was the missing piece. “Fireball!” I yelled again. “Fireball!” I felt like an idiot.

I knew the fire was there, just under the skin. I felt it just as clearly as I had felt the revolver in my hands. The revolver.

I drew my weapon again, and aimed at the ground a few yards ahead. I tried to flow the energy into the weapon, thinking maybe I could use it as some sort of conduit or something, shoot magical fire bullets, I don’t know. There was a lot of desperate thinking going on at the time. But I could feel as the energy rejected the gun. Or the gun rejected the energy. Whatever the case, it was evident in a primal, gut-instinct way that this wasn’t going to work.

I holstered the gun, and tried my bat. A flaming bat would be pretty sick. But I could feel the rejection there, too.

“Hey Tom, what do you think-“ I stopped. Tom wasn’t there. Of course Tom wasn’t there. I was alone.

-

Eventually, I had to give up and get moving. I couldn’t spend all day shouting made-up spell names and hoping for the best. Tom was out there somewhere, and I had to find him. Although, I thought, knowing Tom, he’s probably doing extremely well out here. He’s probably sitting in some medieval castle right now, feasting on mutton and mead with the king. By the end of the month he’ll be marrying the princess.

Stolen story; please report.

I started to actually get mad at Tom, because of that image in my head.

“I bet Tom figured out how to use magic,” I said, through gritted teeth.

Even more pressing than that, the clock was ticking on my debt. I had to pay $10k by the end of the month. Currently, I had made significant progress - in the opposite direction.

I hiked up and down those rolling hills for another day. Now they were mostly covered in tufts of grass, which were dry, but approaching green in color. There were small bushes and shrubs scattered everywhere, and small trees, all of which I couldn’t identify, but which were, in fact, green. The taller ones scratched at my arms as I passed them, but it was still much too warm to break out the jacket. The ground around these plants was hard dirt, hard enough to break your nails if you tried to dig into it with your hands. I had to be careful not to trip on the rocks, which in some places were as large as human heads.

The mountains in the distance were a blue silhouette, and occasionally clouds would give some relief from the sun. From the top of a hill, the view was, admittedly, quite beautiful.

And I felt less alone. The coyodillo wasn’t an anomaly. Now there were birds and lizards and bugs, skittering and flying. They weren’t always around, but I found them frequently enough. I knew at some point I would want to stop and examine them, but my mind was somewhere else at the time. Thinking about magic. What was I missing?

I spent another night in the tent, praying that the things which walked by didn’t stumble upon me. Everything sounded so much larger at night, so much more menacing. I heard howling that night, and assumed it was the coyodillos. I’d killed one, but a pack of them would probably do me in. Especially if they got the jump on me and lit my tent on fire. But there was nothing I could do except sleep with my gun nearby. I’d practiced more, and would need more ammo soon, but I had some left. I slept as best as I could.

I woke up to the uncomfortable feeling of my nails scratching against my socks, again. Didn’t I just trim them yesterday? How did they grow back so fast? When I checked, I saw that my fingernails had regrown as well. Don’t certain foods cause your nails to grow faster? Are cheesesteaks one of them?

I got out my nail clippers, and started trimming. I really didn’t want this to turn into a daily thing.

While I was doing that, I called RENA, and asked for another sandwich, as well another box of ammo, and a pair of scissors. My hair was getting long, and it was annoying me.

I waited to start the day until RENA had sent that stuff over. It was apparently easier to send if I stayed in one place. Less chance of lossage. So I did some more target practice, shooting at the bleached skull of some poor animal that had died nearby, long before.

That didn’t last long, because I ran out of ammunition. So I tried to use magic again.

I had thought, while waiting to fall asleep, that maybe my hands weren’t the right place to use my magic. Maybe I channeled it better through my feet, or something. There was a rejection when I tried to send the energy into the gun, but there was a resistance when I tried to send it out of my palm, as well. Maybe it flowed better elsewhere.

I kicked off my shoes and socks, and flowed the magic down into the bottom of one foot, and tried kicking it out. Embarrassingly, I even yelled out “Flame kick!” a few times, just in case. This had no effect besides making me feel foolish.

Where else might work? Although I really hoped I wouldn’t have to shoot fire from my elbows or something, I tried every other body part I could think of. I tried channeling the warm energy into my knees, my chest, my groin; I even tried to shoot it out of my forehead. Nothing.

I collapsed onto the unyielding ground. “What am I missing?” I said to myself. I had started to doubt the possibility of the idea altogether. I could feel the warmth under my skin, but it seemed more and more likely that I was just insane. “Or maybe I have some sort of magical disability. Wouldn’t that be fitting.”

RENA still hadn’t sent the supplies. This happened sometimes, and I imagined that the intern was dragging his feet.

If I hadn’t come here, I may have ended up being the one grabbing supplies. They already had me grabbing coffee.

Another idea, since I had time to spare. Maybe I had been right the first time, trying to use my hands, but maybe the palm wasn’t it. Maybe the fingertips?

I didn’t even bother to stand up. I pointed my index finger into the distance, making a finger-gun with my hand. I started the flow. I didn’t expect much. “Bang.”

“OW!” I yelped. I stuck my finger into my mouth, sucking on it. The feeling had been like touching a hot stove. The tip of my finger felt like it was on fire. It felt like it was on fire.

I took my finger out of my mouth, wincing, but not without some excitement. It wasn’t quite right, but it seemed I had done it, done something. My heart raced at the possibility. I do have magic. Maybe in this world, I can be someone special after all, at least in some small way.

I looked. The tip of my finger looked unharmed, except for the tip of the fingernail. A small sliver of the nail was missing, black burn marks around it, where the finger felt burnt. I could see - and feel - the tender skin beneath. It looked as if part of the nail had been burnt away to nothing. It hurt like you wouldn't believe, but too many endorphins were being released for me to pay it much attention.

“I did it!” I yelled, jumping up off my feet. “Yes! Take that, world. You’re all screwed now, I’ve got magic, baby. Yes!”

Now to learn how to use it without burning myself. I held out my hand again, pointing my middle finger out. I sent the energy shooting to my finger, watching carefully this time so I didn’t miss it.

“Fuck!” I yelled, as I burned myself again. But I saw it. From the edge of the fingernail of my middle finger, a little flame appear for a moment, then blew out. It lasted all of a second. But it was magic.

I tried again, three more times, continuing to use my right hand. By the end I had made three more small flames, lost the tips of three more fingernails, and was wincing at the feeling of having burnt the tip of every finger on my right hand. It was like spilling hot bacon grease on yourself and getting your finger slammed in a door, at the same time, times two. Only adrenaline was keeping my from breaking down and curling up into a little ball of pain in the dirt.

“Why do I keep burning up the nail?” I asked. No one answered.

I tried focusing the energy very carefully, pressing it down into one single point, on the palm-side of the fingertip. But when I did that, nothing happened.

“Please don’t tell me that…” I didn’t finish. I dreaded what I would have to test next.

This time pointing with my left index finger, I sent another burst of energy. This time, I sent it straight to the nail.

It hurt, worse than the last five times. The flame was bigger, which might have made me happy, except that when it evaporated, so did the entire fingernail, leaving no nail on that finger.

Feeling despair start to overtake me, I took off one shoe, and tried sending the energy into the bottom of my left little toe. Nothing happened. I sent it to the nail.

A little flame, stinging pain, and then no toenail. Gone. Burnt away.

“Are you kidding me?”