Magigenesis CH1The Winds of Change REV1

CH 1 Magigenesis The Winds of Change (REV Dec. 08)


I felt my magic stretch awake like a lion awaking from slumber. It dug kneading claws into my gut just to see if I was home and holding the leash. I was home, but leash?  What’s life without a few risks?  I held Beatrice’s hand, letting my magic flow along her skin, paying out the power at a measured pace. Beatrice had grown frightened before when we tested the edges of our magic, and her fear shut it down, but not tonight.  Tonight the magic swirled around us as if I had opened a door and stepped into a new world, and that world was mine.  Air flowed between our fingers as I breathed a single word, a question, a plea, a demand.  “Yes?”

She nodded.  Sweat and Sand gritted against my hand, but her fingers threaded through mine, gripping.  Fear warred with excitement in her.  For me it was all excitement. I refused to believe in the fear.  At first the magic just added another dimension to the moment, a soft buzz of power, but now it wanted to play a more active part. The air crackled, alive all around us.  I felt dizzy with the unseen energy blowing over my skin. My magic called to hers.

Beatrice wasn’t the type to initiate change, but tonight, I asked, not with words, but with my power. I felt it on some primal level beyond us both.  Her hand clutched mine.  Our breaths mingled, like wet Sand flowing along a Wind-swept shore. This time she did not avoid my gaze.  She looked at me with wide doe eyes, glistening with apprehension, ever darkening with power. Every nerve tingled with energy.  Every cell bloomed alive.  The tentative fingers of her magic answered my own, and the power escalated a stinging gust of Wind and Sand.  Beatrice gasped pulling my Air to herself. My magic went from purring like a house cat, to roaring over us both like an avalanche.  Fuc--


“No!”  I spat the word like a curse, trying to keep the expletives out of my mind and words.  I was in enough trouble without calling curses while my hands were filled with ready magic.  At least I was not that much the fool.

Beatrice went limp in my arms.

I fumbled for my cell phone.  Felt the crackle and jerked my fingers away. Too late. It clattered against the coffee table before hitting the floor. I went down with it, cradling Beatrice and getting her onto her sofa before my control deserted me, leaving me in a cold sweat. Sand and grit covered my skin, mine and Beatrice’s.  Pain rose in a torrential wave. Magic twisted around my heart tripping up my understanding, clouding my judgment, snarling with tail-twitching frustration.

In fury, I thrust my own magic away from me into its mother Air, stripping myself of its power and support. Staggering, I saw the flash of a teleportation through the open window.  Teleportation?  Who could teleport? Spots danced before my eyes.  I blinked and fought to stay conscious.  Several flashes of mirror magic confirmed the arrival of other Sorceri.  How had they known where we were?

Help, such as it was, had come, called not by my cell phone, but by the release of my power.  The explosion of shared magic must have betrayed my location.

My Air returned to me on my next breath, tasting of Beatrice's Earth. It tore through my lungs with the ferocity of a sandstorm. Muscles in my chest and abdomen clenched. Spasms ran down my arms cording  into knots in my back and shoulders. My shirt was soaked as if I had been working out.  I could feel my hair blowing in the Wind of my element. Sweat beaded on my forehead. Still trying to breathe, I sat heavily on the carpet.  My vision went dark on the edges. Remnants my magic clung to me like wet wool instead of Air.  I could hear Beatrice still gasping for breath and reached for her, but was hit with another spasm.  Clutching the edge of the sofa I realized my fingers were bleeding. I could feel the rampant power throbbing uncontrolled in my veins. I couldn’t do this alone. I was so screwed.

Gloved hands steadied me, and I let go of the sofa, trying to bring my spent magic to my dominant hand.  I looked up, expecting trouble, but saw a friendly face—Verel, my mentor. 

Verel was taller than I was especially looming over me as I sat on the floor.  His weathered face was lined with concern and warmth.

“Cal?  Are you alright?”  His face swam in and out of focus as if I were drunk.  I suppose I was-- drunk with magic.

I tried to say yes, but I couldn’t manage to form the words.  Did that mean I wasn’t alright? My fingers clenched against the synthetic fibers of the carpet, an oily counterfeit of the Earth. Magic was blowing in my thoughts like a tornado, swirling white sand and clawing me open.  Sand reflecting a vast barrenness covered me.  It still blew around me and I looked for Beatrice. I needed to know that she was safe.  “Bea-”  I croaked.  The word took too much breath and I choked on it, tasting blood.

“She’s with the healers,” Verel assured me.  “She’s alright.”

But I couldn’t relax.  His face was concerned and there was too much activity for her to be alright.  Healers and Assembly personnel were everywhere.  Unfortunately, I knew some of them.  Why didn’t I see this coming?  Now I’d drawn attention to her as well. She didn’t deserve that.  Could this night get any worse?  Probably.  My life usually worked that way.

My chest ached  and with each breath, the pain increased. I looked at the world through a thickening cloak of cool power. I shook my head, gasping.  I couldn’t hear anything but the pounding of my own heart. I couldn’t see anything but the shroud of magic around me. It was my Air, but not my Air, cloying rather than freeing, blinding, burying.  There was too much of it--Too much magic for me to wield.  I was drowning in it. A sudden wave of agony rolled through me as I inhaled. I gasped with the cold fury of my magic demanding to be free of its bodily prison.

“What’s happening to him?” asked a man’s voice. 

“His Magigenesis, unless we can stop it,” said a woman I didn't know.

“Meus Dei!  Mirror Magister discrimen!”  The voice of the first man commanded.  There was a flurry of movement beside me, as people scurried to do his bidding.

“He’s not ready,” said Verel, his voice thick with worry.

“Who is ever ready?” muttered another.

The woman shook me. “Attende!”

“Cal,” said Verel.  “His name is Cal.”

The woman’s hands, even gloved were a calming life line against my bare skin as she smoothed back my sandy hair. “Cal, Attende!  Look at me.”

With effort, my sight cleared.  The woman had shocking red hair and green eyes. She was older than me, but not by much.  Her presence breathed life. I wanted to rip off her gloves and breathe against her skin.  She was pure power.  I tried to smile at her as she studied my face.  I think it came out more like a grimace. You should never meet a pretty woman with a grimace. I tried again, but my greeting came out an unintelligible croak.

“Cal, can you hear me?” she asked.  “Breathe out.  Not in, just out. Exhale.”

I did as she asked, blowing away little puffs of magic, like pieces of death, pieces of pain.

“Again, harder.” said the woman.  I stared into her green eyes and thought--she’s an angel, an angel with spiky hair and a nose ring.

The man interrupted as he wrapped a blanket around my shoulders.  Even in the Arizona heat I was shivering.  “You need to siphon off some of his magic and get him through the mirror, to help,” said the man sharply.  “We’re not secure here, Sorcera.”

“Magistra,” she corrected. Of course she was a Magistra, I thought. How could he have mistaken her for anything less?

“You can’t deal with this alone, Magistra.”

The woman shook her head.  The short spikes of her red hair didn’t move. I wanted to touch it to see if it was as stiff as it looked.  I exhaled a slow painful breath.

“I don’t even want to lay hands on him if I don’t have to. A mirror is unthinkable.  Foreign magic is always harder to dispel than your own, and he already has the Earth of the Antemagena to deal with.”

Beatrice.  I’d forgotten her…forgotten everything in the onslaught of power.

“And good thing she’s magical,” said another,  “even if she is unAwakened.  If he hurt a Mundane—“

“Satis!”  Snapped the first man and the second shut up.  “Make yourself useful and find the girl’s family.”

I struggled to speak.  I needed to ask if Beatrice was okay.

“No talking,” the redhead admonished, placing a gloved index finger against my lips.  “Talking requires that you inhale.  Breathe out only. You need to release this magic. Give it to the Air.”  I obeyed as she stroked my face.  It was strangely comforting, even with her hands gloved and her magic shielded.

I blew out my breath and my magic again and again until the world was covered in cotton gauze, but I was coming out of it.  It took a while longer, but I finally got my breath under me enough to speak.

What had just happened to me was big enough to attract unwanted attention.  I knew it, but wanted confirmation. The Assembly had been protecting possible higher powers like me, but now, that secrecy was shot.  I pulled the woman’s head down to my lips so that she could hear me.  She had emeralds in her ears—emeralds filled with magic. I could taste it.  So close to my lips, I wanted to taste her skin.  She moved and the spiky hair as expected almost crunched under my fingers. The faint buzz of her magic drove all thought from my mind.  What was it I wanted to ask her?  Something?  “People are going to know where I am now, aren’t they?”

“They already do.”

“But then—“ I strangled on the words, sucking in a breath.  Pain slashed through my lungs like a sword.  My vision flashed to white and I was again immersed in magic.

“Exhale.”  She whispered with calm assurance.  “Cal, if you let me, I can help you. I can take some of your magic. It will be easier to control.”

“No!” Someone pulled her away.  “He’s too powerful. It’s already beyond control.”

“His power doesn’t scare me.”

“Magistra!”

“I said, I’m not leaving him while I have power to hand.”  Her green eyes flashed, angry. “If you’re afraid, you leave.”

“He’s dangerous,”  the man said, laying a hand on her shoulder.

“Then you shouldn’t interrupt me,” she snapped.

“You need to get him through a mirror,” insisted the man’s voice.  “He’s not safe here.”  I recognized the arrogance now.  He was Assembly. 

The redhead answered her voice sharp and commanding.  “The greatest danger right now is his premature Magigenesis.  I am trying to defer that Awakening. It would be helpful if you would cease disturbing me.”  I blinked, trying to look at her.  Her face swam in and out of focus.  It wasn’t her face I wanted to remember. It was her magic. I could smell it, pure and unadorned.  The comfort of her gloved hand was still on my cheek.  I wished I could touch skin to remember her. Without touching her, that would be impossible.  I closed my hand over one of hers, claiming it, even with the gloves.

She looked at me sharply and sucked in her breath, bringing her eyes boldly to mine, and for a moment something sparked there…some recognition of my power if not of my form. Color rose to her cheeks and she forcibly breathed again, tucking the blanket more firmly around my shoulders. Color had darkened her cheeks.  She felt it too. I knew she had.

They still hesitated. 

Her voice rose, commanding those who hovered too near.  “You! Unless you want to be his first power feeds, go!  Take care of the Antemagena.”

The Antemagena?  Beatrice.  Good. They were taking care of Beatrice. 

The others scattered, obeying as if she were a Sexta, and perhaps she was.  I wasn’t in position to tell her rank. They all did as she asked except for one older man who still watched at her shoulder like a disapproving wraith.

I breathed, carefully, slowly.

Her voice softened. “That’s it, Cal.  You’re bringing it back to balance. Exhale the excess magic.”

I squeezed her hand and tried to nod, but I didn’t speak.  My magic was coming back under my control with each slow even exhale.  I didn’t want to jinx it with an inhale.

“Why didn’t the Office of Magigenesis send someone older?”  The Sorcerer muttered.

“Because I’m the best,” the redhead replied shortly.

“Eldurius?” asked Verel.  “Magnus Magister Eldurius.”

“He’s presiding at an Awakening,” someone answered, “Along with his sister…” 

“Magister Jonathan or Magister Keiron?”

“Kieran has been notified.”

The woman ignored them all.  She held her hand over my chest and then relaxed as I exhaled.  She stroked my face, but warded cotton separated me from her. Cotton gloves, I realized.  I exhaled again, letting my breath unravel the seam on the left index finger of her glove. The white thread dangled for a moment, and then grew longer as I pulled on it.  The concentration of the simple task seemed to bring back my focus.  It was a tedious job, but when at last skin touched skin through the torn glove, I felt her as a cool wetness beneath the breeze of my magic. She was so different from Beatrice’s Sand.

She startled at my touch. Her eyes were wide,  not with fear, but with wonder.  I caught her gaze and held it, seeking purposely what I had only glimpsed before.

It was a moment before I processed what I was sensing in her skin. My magic seemed sluggish, unresponsive, but perhaps it was because I was sensing something I had never sensed before.  “You’re Water.” I said, my voice a whisper.

She sucked in a quick breath.  “You knew that from only a touch?  No.  Don’t answer that. Breathe out.  Be still, and exhale.”  She glanced fearfully at the others and then whispered.  “Let me help you. Let me take your magic. Can you do that?” 

I had no idea what she was talking about, but I trusted her. I tightened my grip around her hand, brushing bare skin against bare skin, magic against magic, willing myself to remember her. I wanted her name, something to call her…not Magistra…something mine…Mea Sexta, I thought.  I didn’t think I said it out loud, but her eyes darkened with sudden passion and everything changed in that instant.

I was moving above the vastness of her Water, the skin of her finger still under mine. I felt her shiver, or was that me? I blew out my breath and felt her Water move with me, her waves growing under my magic, several broke with white caps, but her Water took my Air.  Her voice dripped comfort, “Exhale.”

She took my Wind like it was her right, and gave it back again, smooth, and shivery, bubbling through her Water.  I knew I had only touched the surface, but I could sense depths and wanted more. From somewhere far distant, her other gloved hand clutched mine. Suddenly skin was beneath the palm of my left hand, no not just skin, magic. A chakra.  Her throat chakra opened to me, as my fingers brushed her skin. Her gloved hand, rested lightly over mine quivering.  She had placed my hand against her skin.

“Exhale.”  She held her breath, waiting for me.  Her eyes willed me to silence and there was only the two of us in that moment.

I exhaled.  Air, light as a butterfly’s touch, rippled across her magic. I felt the tremors flow though her with my touch. Twice more I released my power. I tasted Water, her Water. Immediately I wanted to switch the direction of the current.  I wanted not to give, but to take, to drink deeply of her Water, and suck her dry.  I wanted to wrap that power around my self, to consume it, and call it my own. My Air was charged and combined with her Water, it wanted a storm. Her eyes had darkened.  Her nostrils flared and I knew she was tasting my Air, feeling the power.

In that moment, her magic was mine—mine for the taking.  The wild leap of her pulse and the quickening of her breath, said she felt it too, terrible, and terrifying and awe-inspiring.  Her hand tightened on mine, and she stilled waiting, the magic tense between us.  Her eyes had darkened to smoldering jade, and she held my gaze, shuddering, but the decision was mine.  She didn’t pull away.

I did, shoving myself away from her.  The loss of magic arcing between us like an electric shock, brought  the physical pain back.  I hurt with a bone numbing ache, but it was bearable now, a dull ache, not a sharp pain. Less than a minute had passed since I first touched her.  I breathed in the memory of her magic, deep and clear, moving in slow undulating waves beneath the power of my wind.  The movement suggested ocean, but there was no salt--fresh water then, a large lake. 

She stared at me, her green eyes wide, searching my blue. Her eyes were still dark with my power. I suspected mine looked as dark with remembrance, with promise. “Mea Sexta.” Never had the language felt so right on my lips.

She looked down quickly, almost as if embarrassed.  Her breath was still rapid, but slowing.  Her eyes, avoided mine now, and sought the floor on which I sat.  Cheeks flushed. She touched her throat chakra, and then forced her hands down, holding them together in her lap.  They were out of my reach, but her right hand wrapped itself around the finger I had touched as if to savor the magic I had left behind.  I had done nothing but touch her, skin to skin and magic to magic.  The power was heady.  I tried to smile at her, but I couldn’t quite manage it. 

“You didn’t –You can’t--That would mean—“  Her voice dwindled as she looked at the other Sorceri, everywhere, but at me. “You can’t even be recovered yet,” she whispered.  The color in her cheeks blossomed across her face, and she looked very young.  She sat so still.  Her breath calmed before she spoke again, but not to me.  “He’s stable.  You can take him through the mirror now.” she called to the others. 

“Yes, Magistra,” someone said. 

She still didn’t look at me. But my magic clung to her.  I could see the shine of Air around her throat chakra and her hands. She was soaking wet, her own magic barely controlled with my Air around her. Even her earrings held traces of my power. She closed her eyes momentarily, and when she opened them, they were a more normal shade of green, but her breath was still ragged and my magic hung about her like a halo. 

I wanted to catch her chin with my bare fingers and force her eyes back to mine. I wanted to see them darken again for me.  I said nothing, but that one touch had told me much--more than a touch ever had before.  Something had changed within me.  I had to wonder what exactly had happened to me.  I felt raw and incomplete without control of my full magic.  I couldn’t quite process what had happened without it.  Understanding would have to wait.
**



If you would like to continue reading this, please let me know in your review.  Further chapters are passkey protected.