It was a conundrum, all right. Triana's stomach wanted breakfast, but her bed was so warm and cozy...
She snuggled under the covers, trying to wriggle back into the grasp of the sandman's fingers, but another insistent pang of hunger reminded her that she hadn't eaten since ... well, since that midnight snack, but still, that had been hours ago!
But maybe there was a way she could satisfy her hunger without getting out of bed. Hmm. I wonder if I can manage it from all the way up here?, she thought. Only one way to find out.
Questing fingers of thaumic power oozed their way down the staircase, under the door, and into the kitchen. Grasping, she opened the cupboard -- removed the box of Fruity Mummy -- opened the fridge -- removed the milk -- closed the door --
It was a delicate series of operations, especially because she had to do the whole thing using only her arcane sight. By the time she had the milk and the box of cereal resting next to her bed, she was exhausted.
What a workout ... oh, damn! I forgot the bowl! Well, she wasn't getting out of bed now, not after all that. She emptied her mind, let it "cool off" for a few moments, then heaved the milk and cereal back into the air, lifting them directly over her face. She tried not to think about what would happen if she lost her grip -- if she thought about it too much, she almost certainly would.
She tipped the box, filling her open mouth with cereal, then tipped the half-empty gallon jug of and sloshed milk over it. She overestimated slightly, and ended up almost spattering it across her face, but she got plenty of it in her mouth as well. Cheeks bulging, she chewed the enormous mouthful.
How about that? I got myself breakfast in bed.
It tasted a little weird because she'd picked up the chocolate milk -- all milk looked the same on the astral plane! -- but still, she was pleased with herself. She kept practicing, and had the pour down perfectly by the time she ran out of cereal.
"Triana, honey!" her stepfather called up the stairs. "Are you ready to go?"
Go? Oh, right! She was supposed to be visiting Dad this weekend. Well, time for another challenge -- could she get dressed using only her magic?
Giving herself plenty of room, she stood in the middle of the floor and lifted her arms. With a whisk of mental power, her nightie slipped over her head and flew across the room. From there, it was almost too easy; bra, shirt, stockings, they all went on easily. Only the skirt gave her a little bit of trouble; she had to force the clasp together by hand. Apparently, that was a little too complicated for her magic as of yet -- But a few more mornings like this, and I'm sure I won't have to worry about it anymore, she reassured herself.
One look back at her pillow -- which was soaked with milk and covered in loose Fruity Mummy pieces -- was enough to convince her that she should probably do her makeup the old-fashioned way, at least for now.
-------
A swirling vortex opened the in the sky above the mountain highway, and out of it stormed a pale horse with two riders. The ethereal stallion landed on the asphalt, leaving hoofprints of purple flame.
"Here we are; the Venture compound!" the Outrider said.
Triana slid off the horse's back and looked over the steel safety railing. "What gives? We're like two miles from the front gates."
"Oops," the Outrider said sheepishly. "I must have steered us back onto the material plane a little prematurely. Well, it's a lovely day; why don't we walk?"
He eyed his stepdaughter. His "miscalculation" had actually been entirely intentional; Tatyana had suggested it. Frankly, Triana could use the exercise. She'd barely moved a muscle all week, and it was starting to show. The "Neophyte 15", they called it. It was easy to put on a few pounds if you started relying on magic for everything, and just as the girl was an exceptional student of the arcane, it had taken her an exceptionally short time to get soft and sloppy, especially around the middle. That skirt had always been a muffin top waiting to happen -- and now the prophecy was coming to pass.
Still, you just didn't come right out and tell a teenager that she was getting fat, particularly not when she'd just learned to set someone's soul on fire two days ago. Hopefully, a little walk would stir her out of her rut.
"S'okay, I know the way," Triana said. "Thanks for the lift. I can get there on my own from here."
"Well, if you're sure -- you've got your phone if there's any trouble!"
"I'll be fine. See you on Sunday evening!"
Triana waited until the vortex had winked shut, then walked over to the railing. It was a long way down. She lifted herself into the air, just a couple of inches, but enough to be sure that she could keep from plummeting. When she was satisfied, she stepped over the railing and began gliding towards the Venture compound far below, descending on a cushion of air.
Who needed walking?
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