I sat in silence, resting my eyes. With nothing to do the natural order of emotions in my head slowly progressed from anxiousness to boredom, back to a nervous feeling of uncertainty.

I wasn’t sure if the tower was broken, or if I just wasn’t afraid of anything. Of course, I would have liked to think that it was the latter, but the cynic in me thought that would be too good to be true.

‘If I wasn’t afraid of anything then I wouldn’t have been so worried about being left alone…’

I grabbed a handful of my hair scratching my head out of habit. The way I shouted for my father to not leave me behind bothered me. It made me feel like a fool.

Sweeping my hair back I forced myself to stop before I hurt myself. ‘Who would have known this habit would have stayed with me even after almost 15 years…’

It was something I always used to do when I felt lost or regretful, wishing I could take something back.

I leaned back, slowly hitting my head against the wall behind me over and over. I was angry at him, but even more so at myself for breaking down in front of him.

I let out a long sigh. ‘He probably put me in the center of the room for a reason right? I guess I might as well go back. If nothing happens I’ll just have to hope he comes back eventually so I don't starve to death.

I stood up, taking a moment to make sure I had my feet under me before I tried moving too much.

“Darkness…” a shadowy voice echoed through my head. Its wispy breath sounded both near and far away. It was like a war echo resonating from an old storyteller sitting next to a fireplace.

‘Could this be my fear? I’m not afraid though… And the voice isn’t intimidating either…’ “What are you?”

“Now little girl, why would I tell you that?”

I rolled my eyes. “Because I'm so charming and cute,” I said sarcastically. I didn't know who, or what I was talking to, but if it was my fear I was ready to throw down, and if it wasn’t all the better. Maybe it could help.

The shadowy voice laughed. “Very well then, I am Khazack.”

‘I can't believe that actually worked. Wait, Khazack, as in the builder of the tower?’ “So you're a ghost.”

“More like a memory.”

The magic light began to gather like fairy dust being sucked together by a magnet. All of it took human shape. I couldn’t make out anything distinct, but somehow his presence was more calming than my father's.

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“I’m… not afraid of old men with cool beards am I?”

He raised an eyebrow, stroking said beard, making his image of a wizard even more concrete in my mind. Of course, anyone could use magic, but as far as the expectations of wise wizards, he didn’t disappoint.

“Well, you don’t seem to be shaking in your boots right now, so I suppose not.” He said softly with a warm smile.

I grinned back. “Who knows, maybe I would be if I was wearing any?”

“Ha.” He waved his dusty hands, the form bending like sand waves as he moved before taking shape again as he came to rest.

Light enveloped my feet and soft leather began to gently wrap around them, tightening snugly, gently hugging my ankles.

“Hm… Are you still not shaking? Ah, I know what the problem is. My beard is cool, yes, so I must just not be an old man.”

I covered my mouth trying not to laugh, but it was no use. Not that he was even that funny, but I hadn’t had a lighthearted conversation in I didn’t know how long. Even when I was with Agis I felt tense or competitive most of the time.

Looking down at my feet I felt the leather boots with my hands. “Now that’s magic.” I took one off, looking at the inside. It was perfectly woven without seams or creases, and lined with fur. “This is amazing.”

He folded his arms, raising a finger to his chin. “I never would have guessed you would have been so into shoes.”

I paused for a moment, looking up at him, before embarrassedly putting it back on. “Yeah well, you would be too if you were never allowed to wear any.” I couldn’t explain why but his comment annoyed me.

It didn’t feel right. Me? Are you into shoes? It just sounded wrong. I certainly wasn’t the type of girl to have 15 pairs of shoes and still buy another because I saw some more that were cute while I was out shopping.

All I ever needed was my old boots that my sister bought me as a joke. Ironically, they were really nice.

“There's nothing wrong with appreciating a good pair of shoes…” I grumbled.

He raised his hands. “I never said there was. And I’m glad you appreciate them.”

I took a deep breath. ‘None of this is even important.’ “Are you hear to show me my fear then?”

leaning forward, he raised a fist to his mouth. “Well… normally that would be the case, but none of your fears are strong enough to produce the necessary result. You are far too levelheaded and reasonable. It’s really quite annoying.”

He sighed. “Even if I made you fight for your life you would do so logically, thinking your moves through carefully rather than acting on instinct…”

I tried to hide how much his words were boosting my ego, but I could tell from his expression that he didn’t appreciate my grin.

He stroked his beard again. “You're quite young to be having this problem too… You might be a weirder kid than I was.”

“Gee, thanks…”

Stretching his shoulders as if he were flesh and blood he straightened his back and cracked his neck. “Well that’s not important I suppose. Let me see here. To put it into words that make sense. The only reason you can't use magic is because you don't think that you can.”

‘Well… If I’m getting another lecture better from him than my father I guess.’ I sighed “Ah, yes… of course. Believe in myself, why didn’t I think of that.”

He furrowed his brow. “Well, your attitude certainly isn’t helping.”

I let out another sigh. “Sorry, sorry, I’m not having a great day so far. I’m sure if anyone can help me it's you. So… How exactly am I supposed to believe in myself more?”

He opened his hand, moving it to the side, “Figure out why you don't think that you can, that's the first step.”

“Well, isn’t all my manna drained right now anyway? Even if I wasn’t broken somehow wouldn’t I need manna?”

He laughed. “Dear girl, you have to stop being so caught up in facts when magic is about changing what is and what is not to begin with. Create your own reality, THAT is what magic is for.”

“Ok… Well, Even if I do manage to use magic, every time I do I get horrible nosebleeds and pass out. Shouldn’t we–”

“Siya!”

I flinched. “Sory… I’ll let you finish…” ‘How does he even know my name?’

He cleared his throat. “You're not going to run out of mana, you're already topped off, and you're well over your maximum capacity. This is a mana well. The only reason using manna hurt you is because you would run out too quickly. Again, problem solved.” He stepped to the side, waving jazz hands in front of the mote at the center of the room. “Manna well.”

‘So… The only thing holding me back really is me right now…’