Carmine shut the cabin door behind her, excitement soared in her heart as she ran from the house. Finally, she’d finished copying the Yarish script Nicholos had left for her. Now she could actually practice. Under her arm she clutched mother’s spell tome, holding it close as she ventured into the woods beyond her house. What spell would she master today?
Tree frogs buzzed amidst the trees while Carmine moved from shadow to shadow under the trees. She adjusted her scarf under her nose and rolled up her left sleeve to at least be a little cooler. The early summer warmth already had her sweating in her coat, but she’d endure it to keep the bugs off. She wouldn’t complain too much about warm weather. She and Nicholos both learned during their first winter here that their cabin had trouble keeping the wind out. A blessing in the summer, and a curse in the winter. They fixed it up during their second year in Rolderston, and the issue hadn’t returned in the third.
It wasn’t as big, or as nice as her old house, but having a place to call home brought some comfort back to Carmine’s life, something Vale gloated to Nicholos at every opportunity. Vale really liked proving him wrong. Carmine didn’t really understand, but she found them funny anyway.
After walking for the better part of an hour, Carmine finally reached her favorite spot. She sat under a knotted old maple tree. Its leaves provided the perfect amount of shade from the afternoon sun and the air always smelled sweet around it. On calm days like today she could hear the rustling leaves and the songbirds together in a woodland chorus. Nicholos didn’t really hear it when she tried to show him, but Vale did. When Vale taught her lessons they’d come here if the weather allowed. Vale couldn’t make it today though, apparently someone in town broke their leg yesterday and needed her help. Nicholos had work too, at his own little shop, selling baubles and magic trinkets he’d make. He never talked much about work and always looked relieved to get home.
Today, though, was an all Carmine day. No more lessons, no more chores, and no more supervision. A mischievous grin played across her face as she opened up the spellbook. Nicholos had her spend most of her lessons reading and writing. He’d only let her cast spells after months of practice and research. The more complex something was, the more research he’d have her do. Once she had to read a whole book on botany before she could help a flower grow.
Some days, Carmine felt like she’d get further by figuring it out as she went. Nicholos had taught her most basics; levitating objects, small illusions, and protective wards, but more of the interesting stuff he hadn’t even hinted at yet. Today would be a day of advanced classes.
Carmine shut her eyes, holding onto the spine of the tome with one hand as the other unfastened the binding straps by feeling alone. Whatever the book opened to was what she’d learn today, and today's order was:
“Spider calling,” Carmine read the Yarish symbols at the top of the page to herself. She sucked in her lips, shook her head, and slowly grabbed the corner of the next page and turned. “Spider walking,” She grumbled at the next page. “Aw beans, why are there so many spider related spells?” She let out a sigh and groaned, maybe it would be useful, but did Mother have to name them like this? Did Mother like spiders!? Why?
Carmine shook her head and focused on the page in front of her. What did she need first? Some spells required materials to work, and from the directions Mother left behind, this was one of them. For this one she needed spider silk. Carmine’s face curled inward as a creeping shiver crawled up her back. At least it wasn't actual spiders. She stood up and looked in the nearby bushes for any webs.
If she couldn't find one she'd be forced to move on. What a shame, she thought after a cursory glance. She turned back towards the tome, eager to move on...just in time to find a spider web face first.
She cried out in shock and disgust, clawing the webbing from her face and hair. Her skin crawled as she jumped away, patting her clothes to make sure no crawlies stayed on her. Carmine jogged back to her spot, looking carefully where she stepped. Spider silk still stuck to her gloved hands and all over her coat.
"I did it," She grumbled in hollow victory. She really should have chosen a different page. Oh well, if the mess is already made…
She dropped back down cross-legged with the book sprawled out in front of her. The incantation directed the silk to bond with an object, her boots namely, in order to take on a new, joined purpose. After, she reviewed the hand gestures used to direct her energy. This spell was easy, she just had to trace the webbing along the boots. Lastly, she read the Mother’s guide to what feelings to channel for the intent. Climbing, clinging, crawling, sticking, all things Carmine associated with spiders. Great. Hopefully this wouldn't all backfire and turn her into one.
With that fear in mind, Carmine took the webbing in her hands and coated the soles of her boots with it. All the while she uttered the incantation, commanding the change between the two materials. She focused on saying each word correctly while holding her intent in her mind at the same time. Any distraction, any stutter would mean starting all over again.
Doing both at once proved hard for Carmine when she had first started learning. She used to focus too much on the words she’d be saying and not her own intent behind them. Breaking that habit turned out quicker than Nicholos expected of her. He said she’d surprised him with her focus, but Carmine knew she’d figure it out. She preferred her thoughts occupied.
She finished the web placement by her fourth repetition, and finished the spell with a confidant shout. The webbing along her boots flared silver for an instant before dulling to a shimmering web pattern imprinted on her boots.
This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.
"Time for the real test," Carmine told herself, pulling her boots back on. She held her arms out for balance as she lifted one leg onto the truck of her favorite tree. Her foot stuck to the bark without slipping off. A good start. Confident, she lifted the other foot to the trunk. Immediately, Carmines muscles gave out and she fell back onto the forest floor.
"Ow," She grumbled on her back. She looked up at the tree and saw both her empty boots still stuck to it. She smirked, taking a small victory. "It did work." She noted to herself. "I didn't. Gotta do the hands next time too…"
She picked herself up, brushing the dust of her clothes before prying her boots from the tree, and it took some pulling. With a word of release, Carmine cut the spell. The webbed pattern fell from her boots like dust in the wind.
That's still a success, Carmine decided, once she cleaned herself up. Time for the next one.
Her excitement bubbled once again as she gave the book a short toss. It landed in her hands, opening to a new page; one with depictions of storms. Of lightning.
Carmine felt a lump in her throat, her mind briefly showing Mother, lighting crackling between her finger tips.
No.
She pushed the memory down. Locked it away with the rest of that night. It was just a spell, just a collection of old words. Nothing more.
Carmine forced herself to read. Unlike the other spell, it needed no material, just a strong intent. A violent intent. The spell’s incantation read like a plea to the air, promising ruin. The thoughts mother noted down to fuel the spell’s intent burned a pit in Carmine’s stomach. Erasure, destruction, loathing. Whatever she chose as a target was meant to be a smoking pile when she was done, and Carmine had to want for it.
Like Mother did.
The unbidden thought wormed into her mind, along with charred bodies in the rain.
“Stop it.” Carmine snapped, smacking her own face enough to sting, forcing her mind somewhere else, anywhere else.
It’s just a spell. If Mother could do it, I can too.
Carmine stood, her eyes landing on a moss covered stone jutting out of the forest floor. She raised her hand towards it, making the correct gesture outlined in the book as she tried to start the incantation. Several false starts stuttered out while she tried to summon the right feeling for her intent. After a few attempts, she spoke every word of the incantation fluently, repeated every hand movement perfectly, but nothing happened. She tried to visualize herself striking the stone with lightning as she’d seen Mother do first hand, but nothing happened. She tried to feel loathing towards her target, to want for its destruction, but nothing happened.
Her frustration grew, her hands shook. She should be able to do this!
Carmine glared back at her target, but it was only a stone. She wanted its destruction no more than a pebble on the road. It wasn't the problem. She was.
Carmine lifted her hand to try one more time. This time, whispering the incantation, she thought of things she detested. For a short while she stood there, thinking of spiders, boring lessons, cold winters, and yet nothing changed. Her mind started to wander. She dared to peek into her memory just a little, just enough to see that wretched storm above her house. Just enough to see those people again. Lightning arced between her fingers as she continued the incantation, just as the storm continued in her mind.
The mob, the headman, her uncle, their faces came into her mind, carved in stone. Lightning leapt between her fingers, aching to be released, yearning to fulfil her wish. As she held the people from her hometown in mind the spell sparked to life with frightening ease. At that moment, the forest disappeared, and her home took its place. She saw her mother, heading for the back door...
“Stop!” she screamed, howling to a time long passed. Her ears rang with a thunderous crash, snapping her out of her delusion. The spell flared in her hands, sending a painful jolt shot up her arm, stinging from her fingertips to neck as the lightning left her grip. Carmine pulled her hand back, gripping her wrist until her muscles spasms ceased. She heaved every breath, wiping sweat off her brow. She shouldn’t have done that.
Carmine turned to her handiwork. The back half of the stone shattered out into the trees behind it, cutting through saplings and bushes as the shards rain onto the ground. Of the moss that covered the stone, only foul smelling ash remained. She did it. She successfully commanded lightning.
She looked down at her own twitching, bandages burned off to give view at the scared flesh beneath. Carmine’s legs crumpled beneath her, overcome by fear, of the spell, of her memory, and, just for a moment, of herself. The feeling she called on right before the spell went wild churned her stomach. The anger, the desire to harm, all things Mother’s notes warned of. Carmine never thought they’d feel so intense, so raw, almost...hungry. When that spell left her hands, it wasn’t the stone she wanted to strike, but her home. Her first home. She sat by her tree, staring at the ground in a trance, wrestling with the urge that just possessed her. It felt wrong, poisonous...and yet part of her enjoyed it, even for the briefest of moments.
“Never again,” Carmine whispered, her voice shaking. She closed the front of Mother’s spell book as though it were made of glass, and tucked it under her arm. That was enough for one day. She trudged through the underbrush to the nearest dirt path, starting her walk home earlier than usual. Nicholos wouldn’t be back until later. She’d be alone with her thoughts a while yet. She looked down at the path with her mind elsewhere. Her eyes teared up a moment, but she wiped them clear. Just put it out of mind, don't think about it.
WIth her eyes downcast, Carmine noticed footsteps going towards her house. First she saw hoofprints in the mud, oddly spaced for an animal, but not a faun. It was probably Vale; Rolderston didn’t have many fauns. Carmine smiled, at least she wouldn’t be alone when she got home. Carmine hoped Vale wouldn’t ask her about her day, but she’d probably notice. Vale had good eyes for when people were hurt.
Something else weighed on Carmine's mind as she saw the tracks; Vale visited a few days every week for Carmine’s lessons, but today wasn’t the right day for that. Or the right time either. Normally Vake would still be at the clinic.
Carmine shifted her focus to the other sets of footprints following after: two sets, side by side, one bigger than the other, and not hooves but boots.
Strangers.