Emilia woke with a man’s voice in her ear. The sound of the masculine tones brought her out of her bed in a total panic. She shared a room with Betsy, who spoke with a high soprano voice. There was nothing masculine about Betsy or her vocal chords. Sweeping the room for the source of the words, Emilia found nothing but the magical remnant of a cloud that clung about her head. “Who’s there?”
Betsy wasn’t in her bed, most likely, she had academics to take care of in the early morning, whereas Emilia had been allowed to sleep in after her rough night.
“Ms Olren, this is Boris. Your instructor?” the Ogre-magi’s tone rose at the end of his announcement as if he were asking a question. “It is time for your first lesson. Are you prepared?”
Emilia’s heart raced as if she’d been pursued by bandits in her dreams. “You scared the crap out of me!”
This time Boris burbled as if he had no response to that, or he had a dozen but didn’t know which one to deliver. “Ahem. Sorry about that, Ms Orlen. Ms Olren. Ahem.”
The magical cloud of energy lingered and Emilia shook her finger at it. “Well, you should have warned me you might wake me up with a voice in my head. That was freaky.”
“Indeed. I apologize again. When you are ready, I will send one of my assistants to help you find today’s training grounds. Is that all right with you?”
Emilia had covered her body instinctively, with a sigh, she nodded at the cloud and let her sheet drop. “Yes, but have him knock.”
“Ahem, her. She will be a fairy and I will wait to send her until you give me your leave.”
“Okay, fine. Leave me alone now?” Emilia hesitated over her suitcases. She hadn’t yet unpacked, skipping the task after she spent the whole night either chatting with Betsy or defending herself from Esme. The image of the Temptress trying to insinuate her power into Emilia’s mind stopped her in her tracks and made Emilia cover her bra with both arms. As she did so, the cloud of magic which conveyed Boris’s words departed from her room.
Without knowing what “training grounds” entailed, Emilia dressed for the weather. That meant a light woven shirt under a long-sleeved thin knit sweater and jeans. If she got too cold, she might be able to return to her room for a coat. If she grew too warm, she would remove her sweater and either fold it up or tie it around her waist.
After a light dusting of makeup and some deodorant, Emilia felt minimally prepared to leave her room. “Okay, Boris, I’m ready for your assistant or whatever!”
The moment she spoke, someone knocked on her door. Emilia jumped at the sound and she nervously approached the door as if it were haunted. “Hello?”
“Hello mortal girl!” The voice outside the door was much higher than Betsy’s voice and held a bouncing exuberance that brought an involuntary smile to Emilia’s face.
“Hello?”
“Hello! I am speaking to a door!”
“Hello?”
“Hello! Am I just speaking to a door?
Emilia giggled into her palm. “Hello?”
“Hello again! This is me behind the door! It’s time to go mortal girl!”
“Hello?”
“Oh, this is a thing we’re doing. I see! Hello!”
Emilia covered her mouth at that reply, and slid the door open a crack. As she peered outside, a tiny figure with butterfly wings that hardly moved as she flew into Emilia’s view appeared. With a grin, Emilia said, “Hello?”
The fairy girl stuck her tongue out at Emilia and pulled the skin of her face down. The expression muffled her voice as she said, “hello! Is your brain stuck with only one word, like the giant guy on that ridiculously unrealistic TV show?”
Emilia pulled the door open and resisted the urge to repeat herself. “Nope. But I wanted to see how far I could take it before you commented on it.”
The fairy spun around and giggled at Emilia’s answer. Now that she had a good look at her, Emilia grinned at the fairy’s appearance. She wore a plastic thimble on her head as a kind of helmet and a leather glove with the finger tips cut off with a space for her wings as her dress. A twist tie cinched the glove to the fairy’s waist and held a long curved blade which hung naked at the fairy’s side. It was the only thing clearly purpose made for the fairy and from the tiny jewels and runes which adorned the hilt and blade respectively, Emilia suspected it possessed magic of its own.
“Okay, are we done messing around?” The fairy’s loose-tailored glove bobbed as she put her hands on her hips and tilted her head at Emilia.
“Probably not, if I’m being honest.”
Tittering, the fairy rolled her eyes at Emilia. “Well, honesty is good, I guess!” she spun in place. “But it we stay here playing greeting games all day, Boris is gonna yell at me at that’s super mega boring. Like even more boring than listening to his lectures!”
“I’m ready whenever you are.”
At that the fairy turned and face Emilia with her finger pointed at her. “Oh yeah? Well, I’m ready whenever you are!”
Emilia was going to enjoy her time with this weird fairy.
“So where are you from?” The fairy spun about Emilia’s head as they walked over the lawn. “Like, Earth, right?”
“Uh, yeah. Texas to be specific.”
“That doesn’t sound like Earth, that sounds like some sort of alien world.”
“I suppose… I mean yeah. Texas is weird as places go. But I’m not from Armenia.”
“That’s GREAT! I can show you around sometime when we don’t have classes or boring homework to do. Or other boring chores. Or just boring stuff in general!” The fairy hovered off to the side, toward the edge of the clearing, leading Emilia about in a rambling pattern. “I like Armenia, they know how to respect their elders and the…” the fairy wiggled her fingers at Emilia, “…little people! Oooh, spooky!”
“I don’t really know anything about the little people, actually.”
“Oh! That’s good! That means I can pontificate all I need at any random time.” The fairy ducked under a branch, spun back to look at the branch, over at Emilia’s head and back at the branch. She put her hand on her chin and nodded. With a motion so quick Emilia couldn’t follow, she chopped the branch off, caught it, and tossed the loose end off the side of the path. “That was going to smack you in the head and nothing I said would convince it otherwise.” The fairy flew up to the trunk and patted the tree while Emilia watched. “Sorry buddy, but I have a duty!”
“Thanks for that…” Emilia wasn’t going to mention that she could have ducked or moved the branch herself, the odd little fairy was awfully proud of herself. “Where are we going?” The terrain had shifted to match the dense foliage where Boris had led her the previous day for her altar test.
“Into the woods, duh!” The fairy shot forward along the path, sheathed her sword and waved her hands at Emilia. “It’s not like I’m planning to chop you into pieces and hide your body out here, that would get my sword messy. Besides, with all of those… bits and stuff, you’d be a pain to hide.”
“I don’t really feel reassured by that.” As ominous as the fairy’s words were, Emilia had a hard time fearing her.
“Oh, I wasn’t trying to reassure you. I was just mentioning one thing I don’t plan on doing. Which, I mean, I guess there is WAY more stuff that I don’t want to do than I want to. Huh!”
The fairy flitted back toward Emilia, who said, “What do want to do then?”
“Ooh! I would kill a slightly impolite squirrel for a sandwich. I mean not to make him into one, but to take his sandwich because he was mocking me for my lunchlessness. Oooh, that would make me mad!”
“Okay. I got nothing for that.”
“I know, if you’d had lunch food, I would have smelled it on you. Unless you’re hiding it an a SECRET pocket. Are you? I mean did you just say you got nothing for that because you didn’t want to share? That would be cool, except for the refusing to share with me part.”
“Nope. Nothing to eat here. How would I get a secret pocket?”
The fairy zoomed away again, this time further down the path. “Beats me, but we’re here!” Come on over here!”
Emilia refused to hustle for this strange fairy. But curiosity moved her feet forward a little quicker anyway. “What is it… oh!”
A clearing opened up before them. Off to the left a waterfall twice Emilia’s height sprayed a rainbow into the air as it poured its contents into a small stream that flowed across the far edge of the clearing. At the right edge, a table with four chairs had been set up next to a wooden writing desk. A tent unlike the other tents of the camp rested right on the border of the clearing. Rather than solid walls, this tent rested on four long posts with the sides open to the air. Boris puttered about underneath the canopy, adjusting the position of a small portable shelf full of books and muttering to himself.
The fairy squealed and clapped her hands on her cheeks and shot into the water with a tiny splash. Boris hopped at the sound and squinted over the rim of his glasses at the fairy’s antics. He frowned and shook his head, returning to his book sorting. After a few seconds, he shook his head s as clearing it and stood up like a gopher and scanned the far edge of the clearing. When he spotted Emilia he blinked and waved to her. “Ms Olren! I’m glad you came. It looks like my assistant found you after all.”
“Oh yes, she’s been indispensable.”
At those words, the fairy hovered out of the water holding some kind of water bug, maybe a crayfish or something like it. “Did you hear, Boris? I hereby excuse myself from my duties today! I’ve been indispensable! Woo!”
“Ahem,” Boris cleared his throat and resumed his over-the-glasses glare. “That means we need you! So you can’t run off Mirabel.”
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“Aww!” The fairy — Mirabel — sulked toward them. “You ruined it, Boris! I was going to make the mortal girl guess my name.”
“I could still guess if you want. Is your name Shanon?”
Mirabel cocked her head to the side, put her finger on her lips and shrugged. “No! Wrong! Try again.”
“How about Sharon?”
“Nope!
“Shelly?”
“No! It doesn’t start with an Sh, an S, or an H.”
“Nebuchadnezzar?”
“Um, no. But now I’m thinking you might be insane. Or a genius.” Mirabel floated over to Boris. “Hey! If I wanted to change my name to Nebuchad… what she said, what kind of problems would I have?”
Boris frowned as if the fairy’s presence disturbed him. “Well, aside from the fact you’re having trouble saying it, how would you get your mail if people tried to send it to Mirabel?”
“Oh holy shit! You’re right! I can miss out on my Magical Unicorn Princess swag!” Mirabel flew to Emilia. “I like where your crazy head is at, but I’m keeping my current name. Don’t want to have to miss any packages.”
“So Mirabel?”
“OH MY GODS SHE’S A MINDREADER!” Mirabel clapped her hands on her temple and started chanting, “Sunshine Murder is the best horsey, Sunshine Murder is the best horsey.” Emilia opened her mouth to comment, but Mirabel pointed at her. “Stay out of my head, witch!” She retreated behind Boris, who only shook his head.
Emilia couldn’t wipe the grin off of her face now. Whether Mirabel was serious or just acting, she found she really liked the little fairy woman.”
“If you two are done goofing around…”
“Hey old man, you were the first to goof!” Mirabel pointed to the books on the portable shelf. “You sent for us before you were even done organizing the books. Books you’re gonna just pack up tonight and lug back to the camp like a big dumb… lug!”
Rather than scold her, a tiny ghost of a smile graced Boris’s lip. Then he furrowed his brow and scolded Mirabel. “I never goof. Especially during lesson time. I am goofless.” The Fairy opened her mouth, but Boris cut her off. “Now enough silliness. It is actually time to learn.”
He waved Emilia over and pointed to a chair. She pulled it out and flashed him a questioning look. He nodded at her and motioned her to sit.
“Now, Ms Olren. What do you know about Prajna?” As he asked his question, he turned back to his stake of books and pulled a thin tome from the top of the stack.
“Um… I think it’s a Sanskrit term for energy or something?”
“That is correct. Mostly.” He handed her the book, which bore a double-thumbed handprint on the surface and a series of sigils Emilia had no way of deciphering. “A better definition might be that ‘Prajna is just one term for the magical energy that flows through all things.’ Not just breath, and not just Vriksha. But something more.”
“It’s like the cloud that made your voice sound in my room this morning?”
Boris’s ears waggled as he pointed at Emilia and nodded. “That is exactly right!” After a moment, he seemed to realize what she actually said as he shook his head and blinked at her. “You could see that?”
“Yes?”
“Marvelous!” Boris clapped his hands. “After you… well never mind. I feared you possessed some kind of magical block or deficiency. But if you can see the power without a spell, then teaching you should be a pleasure!”
“Thanks?”
“Don’t mention it! What did the cloud look like, exactly?”
Emilia bit her lip and struggled to recall details from being awoken by surprise. “I guess it’s like a thought bubble, one of the little cartoon ones that follows you around with words and stuff in it?” Boris tilted his head at her explanation, which made Emilia’s cheeks flare. “I mean… maybe I’m not saying it right…”
“Oh no, that’s fine. Everyone perceives Prajna a little differently. It’s partly based on aptitude and partly on our personal experiences and history.” Boris opened the book in Emilia’s hand and pointed to an illustration. “There. That is an image of Prajna from the author’s imagination and perspective.”
A lion made from little curlicues and curled lines of gold crossed the page and meandered over the overleaf. This book was animated, Emilia gripped it a little more tightly at the discovery. “Pretty.”
“Ah yes, well, I suppose it is. But this is just an illustration.” Boris sighed as Mirabel burst into choking laughter behind him. “I mean this is only intended as an example.”
Emilia grinned and nodded at her teacher, doing her best job not to mock him with her expression as he blathered momentarily.
“Setting that aside for now, it is not sufficient to see Prajna. You need to be able to feel it, trace its contours, to even taste it like oil on your tongue.”
“Why?” Emilia blurted out the question without thinking.
Boris blinked at her and shook his head. “Well, because you need to be able to…” he adjusted his glasses, “that is…” Shaking his whole body, Boris waved away his own indecision. “Because magic is a sensory experience, but one born of alternate senses. People believe they only have five senses, yes?”
“Sure, sight, sound, touch, taste, and smell.”
“Balderdash.” Boris sniffed the air. “Tell me, Ms Olren, where is your foot right now?”
“Under my knee?”
“But how do you know without looking?”
“I feel it?”
“Indeed, you sense it. We have many more than five senses. Balance, proprioception, thermal, direction, and several more beside. To use magic well, we must steep ourselves in the full sensory experience of the power. From the flavor of Prajna to its color is but one layer of the experience. You can see magic, which is a good first step. But as you learn to feel it with every part of your body and soul, magic will open its possibilities to you.”
“I guess I still don’t understand.”
Boris gave a simple shrug. “Of course not. If you already understood this, it would not be necessary to teach it to you.”
“Huh.”
“Huh indeed!” Boris motioned for Emilia to stand. “I suppose the theory isn’t particularly helpful. Let’s remedy that.” Boris took the book from Emilia’s hand and set it back on the table. Then he walked to the little brook that passed through the glade and pointed to the edge. “Take off your shoes, please.” Emilia hesitated and Boris huffed at her. “Quickly please. Time flies, Ms Olren, and this practical demonstration is a digression.”
Emilia pulled her shoes off. “Socks too?”
“Indeed. We are going to get your feet wet.” He held up his hand and pointed to Mirabel. “And yes, I am aware of the metaphor.”
Once Emilia’s feet were bare, Boris indicated the water. “Dip your toes into the stream. Tell me what you feel.”
Emilia stuck her toes into the top of running water, careful to only get the tips wet. “They’re chilly. And the water is slick between my toes when I move them.”
“Good. Can you feel the pressure of the water, how it runs by?”
“Yes!”
“What about your balance. How hard is it to keep from falling in?”
Mirabel stalked toward Emilia with her arms raised and a comically wicked laugh. “Muahaha…”
Emilia stepped back and dangled her toes in from the bank. “It was hard. Especially with a distraction.”
“Yes, well, I can imagine.” Boris gave a light hearted swat at Mirabel, who dodged his furry hand and stuck her tongue out at him. “Magic works best when you can visualize it fully. That word is not adequate. You do not want to merely visualize your intended effect, you want to embody it. You should aim to make it as real in your mind as the mud floating between your toes.”
“Huh.”
Boris ignored her interjection. “Now put your whole foot in the water. How is that different?”
“I can feel twigs and stuff from the shore. Maybe they’re roots.”
“Are they hard or soft, do they yield to the pressure from your foot or do they resist?”
Emilia hesitated to answer and Boris sprang forward toward her. Rather than toss her into the stream, Emilia’s initial fear, she felt him plunge a sliver of power into her. It rolled through her body like a boulder rolling uphill. Like a snowball in reverse, the boulder cast off its weight and Emilia’s body began to shift and change. For a moment, she resisted the effect, tried to force it away from her. But Boris’s magic would not be denied. As inevitable as Sisyphus failing to keep his stone at the top of his rise, Boris’s magic followed its course.
In moments, Emilia sank down to no more than a few inches tall. She wasn’t a frog, thank the Gods, but she was something slimy and four-legged. In any other circumstance, Emilia would have panicked and tried to flee. But a portion of Boris’s passing magic left her with a calm, even mind.
Around her, the world expanded to empyrean heights, the trees became giant redwoods the likes of which Emilia had only ever seen in nature documentaries. The stream changed from a gently bubbling brook to a massive river. Even the grass morphed into something out of legends. After a moment, Boris joined her, but not as a… whatever she was, but as a short version of himself.
His voice was squeaky and high pitched. Mirabel stood taller than him as she alighted onto the ground next to the wee Ogre-magi. “What do you sense, Ms Olren?”
“I sense you stole this from a cartoon.”
Boris rolled his eyes and scoffed. “That cartoon stole this from my very own teaching methods. But we will not be jumping bodily into the stream today. Nor am I so reckless as to allow a hawk or trout to gobble you up.”
Mirabel leaned in and cupped her hands to whisper. “Don’t believe him, Boris has consulted with Squisney on the side.”
Emilia giggled, which came out as a soft croak. “Am I a frog?”
Boris cleared his throat. “Yes, well. It’s best to start with something that breathes air, or you might panic no matter how much I calm you. Besides, the frog is traditional.” As if he’d scented something offputting, Boris screwed his nose up and waved his hands in the air. “Enough distractions! I want you to contemplate your new form. How does it feel, Ms Olren? This is more important than dreaming of being free as a bird or frolicking with squirrels. This is magic.”
With the strange insight of a frog’s eyes, Emilia saw the way Boris’s skin flushed and his nostrils flared when he said the word. For Emilia, magic had been a burden, something she never quite managed to measure up to. It was nothing more than a tool that she wielded with all of the agility of a toddler. But Boris loved magic. Loved it as though it were his soulmate. From the scent of him, musty and book bound, Emilia could tell he slept alone. Or rather, he slept surrounded by the tomes and other accoutrement of the magical arts. He’d married himself to his art at a young age and the years had only refined that love to something rich and well tended.
“What do you feel?”
Emilia couldn’t share her revelation with the man. It would embarrass him and she didn’t want that. “My skin sags off my body.”
Mirabel burst into great guffaws at that, and Boris’s ears wilted. “Is that really all?”
In truth, no. Emilia could feel the sun drying her loose covered flesh. She could feel the tiny grains of soil and earth between her legs, shifting as she breathed. Breath was a marvel of confused sensations, she didn’t really inhale with her throat as such, but sucked air in through gills mounted on her back. Her throat and nose told a different story. As much as she’d read into the old man’s body from the senses of a frog, they painted a wide world of bright odors. Things that should have disgusted her as a human, bird droppings and decaying crickets, carried with them banquets of multi-layered scents. A part of her was tempted to hop over to the source of those reeks and let them roll over her palette in order to take their full measure. But Boris stared at her with disappointment heavy in his eyes. “This is marvelous.”
His ears perked up a fraction, but she could tell from the dull shade of his gaze that he didn’t believe her. “Well, that is enough direct experience for the day.” There was no wand, no addition of magic words. Boris just snapped his fingers and Emilia and he expanded to their original size.
After that, Boris’s lecture lost a bit of his enthusiasm. Emilia didn’t know what to say to him to try and help, so she took notes and committed herself to recording his words and advice. Class ended in time for dinner, with Boris ushering her off and Miracbel leading the way back to the camp.
“I didn’t mean to hurt his feelings.”
Mirabel waggled her head side to side. “Eh, he’s a sensitive old weirdo.”
“But I mean, the frog thing was pretty neat, really.”
Spinning to face Emilia, Mirabel said, “Really? You’re not just saying that?”
“No! I mean… well it was like the frog’s strange senses gave me insight into Boris and the way he looked at the world.”
“Tell me.” Mirabel held her chin in her hands and floated backwards through the forest.
After a moment’s hesitation, Emilia began to describe the way she saw the world from the perspective of the frog. She packed her words with he feeling of the grit in her toes and the sun on her back.
At the end of Emilia’s description, Mirabel’s eyes glittered. “That old fool doesn’t see how lucky he got with you.”
“What do you mean?”
Shrugging, Mirabel said, “it’s too bad you didn’t tell him all of this the first time. Now he’s gonna think you’re just humoring him to protect his fee-fees.”
“I still don’t get it.”
Mirabel pointed to Emilia with a hand on her hip and the other poking Emilia’s nose. “What is magic to you?”
“Danger.” The word popped out of Emilia’s mouth as if Mirabel had frightened the little frog word out of her throat.
At that, Mirabel’s wings sagged and her face took on a morose cast. “That is so sad!” She slapped her cheeks, but the frown remained. “You should definitely not tell Boris that. He might die from shock.”
“What do I do?”
Mirabel’s face melted back to her usual, near-laughter state. “Just keep studying and practicing. At this point, the best you can do is keep from making the old ogre sad. And I also suggest eating, sleeping, and drinking lots of water.”
“What are you talking about?”
“I mean breathing and stuff is important too. So keep doing that.”
“Oh, I get it…”
“Hey!” Mirabel’s face changed back into an excited mask. It was like her expressions were as flighty as she. “You should also let me eat with you. I TOTALLY don’t eat people meat. I mean, you guys are filled with calories and cholesterol. Gross.”
Ignoring the implied threat, Emilia said, “you want to come with me to dinner meet my friends?’
“Sure!”
“Okay, but no meating my friends, understand?”
“Wha?”
“M-e-a-ting…”
Mirabel groaned. “You might be better as a meal.”