MONSTER SIX - CHANT

For the first time ever, I went outside.

I kinda doubted it was actually the first time ever. I’d probably been outside plenty, but I couldn’t remember any of it, so really, I figured it counted as a cause for celebration.

Celebrations were best done indoors, of course. When I pointed this out to Luciana, she just stared at me expressionless.

I paused by the doors. Luciana had decided, halfway into our walk, to turn and bring us to a courtyard. She walked right past the doors and out into the open air while I hesitated by the threshold and looked out.

It wasn’t so bad. There were walls all around, and... and the sky was very high up.

“Are you coming, child? You won’t learn any magic just by trembling like a rabbit that has seen a hawk.”

“Right!” I said. It wasn’t a squeak.

With a bounce I ran over to Luciana, eyes focused on her and nothing else. That made it easier.

“Good. Sit.”

I hesitated, then looked back.

The courtyard had a small garden in it. A rock garden, with areas filled with raked pebbled and delicate stones stacked atop one another. Some shaped rocks served as benches which were across from each other. It was almost strange seeing the Dark Goddess sitting down on something that wasn’t a throne.

“We will start with the more academic side of things. I want you to understand before you try to use the art.”

I nodded. When I’d asked Milpiés for a notebook, the big old softie had scuttled around for a while until he found an empty notebook for me. They didn’t have pens though, just long, narrow sticks of charcoal in metal tubes with a screw in the side to hold it in place. It worked well enough.

“Ready,” I said as I set my notebook on my lap. If I pretended that the wind came from an open window, then it was easy to forget that the light beating down on me came from the sun sitting in the open sky.

I probably didn’t need to worry. Luciana was with me.

“Hmph. Very well. I won’t bore you with the philosophical questions and implications. You can read into those on your own. Magic is, at its base, the application of your soul towards a specific action. In layman’s terms, it means feeling so strongly about something that you turn that raw emotion into something tangible.”

I wrote that down as quickly as I could. It was hard, because she used a few words with ‘i’ in them and it was hard to draw little hearts for each dot. “Okay,” I said before re-reading what I’d written. That helped me grasp it a lot more. Fortunately, Luciana was really patient with me. “Does that mean that you just need to want something to happen for it to happen?” I asked.

One of her eyebrows rose. “There are two answers here. Essentially, yes, you only need to feel some way for you to be able to use magic. Want, the desire for something, is a good example to start with. The emotion associated with it would be anticipation. You’re familiar with that feeling?”

I nodded. I really wanted to go back to the library, so that was anticipation.

“Good. Anticipation, if you allow it to build in your core, can be used to fuel some magics. Particularly magics associated with earth and stone and the shaping thereof.”

“So cool,” I said. “Can you use that kind of magic?”

Luciana looked at me, then raised a hand before her. With a flick of her wrist a small bump appeared in the ground and tossed up a rock which she caught out of the air. “Most who focus on learning about magic itself will know how to tap into every emotion, using each one in the way best suited for it. That kind of person is rare though.”

“Why?” I asked.

“Because in humans the use of a particular kind of emotion reinforces that emotion. They become more adept at using it, and at feeling it. Those who use fire magics fed by anger and rage will often become little more than beasts. Mages who thrive with the healing arts need to fuel their work with sadness and grief. Often it overwhelms them, and they fade away or take their own lives.”

“That’s... that’s awful,” I said.

“Magic isn’t awful child, it has a price. Few are unaware of it, or the consequences of using magic. Do you understand?”

I nodded, then looked at my notes. “Um. Sadness is healing, anger is fire, right?”

Luciana made that little laughing noise she made. “Not quite. Sadness is used to fuel nature magic. Often called wood magic. Anger and rage feed fire. Joy brings about great winds and trust creates light. Fear is as deep as the deepest waters, and surprise is a spark that can turn to lightning. Anticipation is of the earth, as I have said. And disgust is the dark element.”

I scribbled that down, then paused over the last. “Wait, dark, and you’re the Dark Goddess?”

She nodded. “Yes. Disgust is part of my domain. Though, unlike any other part of my domain, there is a god that infringes upon my control there. The God of Magics. Its domain overlaps with my own, though only narrowly.”

“Oh, okay. What’s dark magic good for?” I asked.

“It's magic powered by disgust and loathing. What do you think those emotions would do, if given power?” she asked instead of answering directly.

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I kind of liked these moments. Luciana was really nice, and super cool, but she seemed a bit lonely, but when she got to teaching like this it made her look happier. “Hmm, I don’t know. I guess it would help hurt the thing that disgusts you?”

“That’s part of it. Dark magic excels at hurting a single opponent. Unfortunately, Dark magic isn’t an offensive magic, insofar as any magic can be placed into one of two boxes.”

“Oh?” I asked. “In that case... does being disgusted by something protect you from it?”

“The disgust itself does not, but the magic does. Dark magic allows you to avoid the attention of others onto whom it’s applied. It allows you to better resist attacks from things which disgust you, and it allows you to shield your mind from the impacts of other magics.”

“That sounds important,” I said.

She nodded. “It is. All magics have more extreme forms as well. Spark magic becomes lightning, fearful water becomes terrifying ice. When the disgust you feel turns to loathing, you obtain void magic. Powerful, and dangerous, though of limited utility.”

I nodded and made more notes. I’d need to reorganize everything. This was a lot to take in all at once, and I was pretty sure I’d forget most of it soon enough. Oh well, I was sure using magic would help me remember all the bits and bobs of it. “So, should someone only learn one kind of magic? I feel a bunch of things all the time, I think it would suck to only feel one thing.”

“I suppose,” Luciana said. “A balanced approach isn’t terrible. It allows those who take it to live a more comfortable life. Temper your disgust with trust, your joy with sadness, your anger with the rationality of fear, and your surprise with anticipation.”

“Cool,” I said, noting that down. I definitely wanted to try dark magic. Luciana had to be the best at it, so I would learn a whole bunch. But the other sorts sounded cool too! Angry fireballs and scary water stuff! “So, do I just need to feel really hard at things now?”

“Hardly,” Luciana said. She stood, then idly wiped her hands against each other to wash them off. “Stand.”

I fumbled my notebook down, then jumped to my feet before coming closer to Luciana. Looking up to her, framed by the sky and castle walls, made it very obvious that she was a whole bunch taller than me.

I realized that I’d kinda forgotten to be scared of the sky for a bit. Neat!

“Every person can open their soul to its full breadth of emotions. It requires work and diligent study. Hours of meditation and years of contemplating your own feelings. There’s little doubt that those who open themselves to their feelings naturally have an advantage.”

“What’s the advantage?” I asked.

“A better, untainted understanding of your own emotions,” Luciana said. “Perhaps not the full spectrum of emotions though. Some people naturally gravitate strongly towards one or another. Some are destined to be sad, others have anger in their blood, still others are joyful without cause.”

“Oh,” I said.

Was I like that? I didn’t think so. I was a perfectly balanced and reasonable sort of girl.

“There is one advantage to having your soul opened by another,” Luciana said. “The time saved notwithstanding. You gain, in a small way, a part of their own understanding. When two souls touch, it is only natural that something of each will remain in the other.” She looked down at me, her face almost blank.

Almost. There was something there. I thought it was her being afraid, but that was silly.

“Would you allow me to open your soul, Valeria? To allow you to unlock your full potential? Know that refusing is fine. The act carries some small risk, and it would forever mark you as someone touched by the God of Darkness.”

I smiled up at her.

Maybe someone else wouldn’t have trusted her. She was a lady that lived all on her own, with only monsters for company, in a big scary castle. She didn’t shy away from admitting that she wasn’t always the nicest person... but she had never been anything but helpful and nice to me.

“I would love that,” I said.

Luciana stared, then her eyes looked away. For a moment, I imagined that her cheeks darkened, but it must have been the light, a passing cloud or something.

“Very well,” she said.

She placed a hand onto my head, pressing back my hair until her thumb came to rest on my forehead. Her other hand lowered and she knelt. Two fingers touched my chest, right on my sternum where my heart beat loudest.

I looked into her eyes, which suddenly seemed so very deep.

I stared, mouth falling open. My heart thump-thumps, louder and louder, until there’s only the rushing of blood in my ears and the drum-beat of my heart. The dark of Luciana’s eyes swallows me.

My heart stops.

“We are the will of the world. Disgusted by travesty and lies, we stride forth towards a future darker, but of our own making. By our will we shape the world. Infinite in potential and unbound by fleeting humanity, I liberate your soul, and by my hand, I give you freedom.”

***