Page 40 of Overwhelmed By Magic

More silence.

I’m getting tired of everyone sharing glances as if trying to soften the information before they give it to me.

I don’t expect Jade to speak though and whatever he’s doing with his voice needs to fucking stop because the collective groans that ring out this room are completely sexual. Apparently, the alcohol doesn’t just lower inhibitions. He clears his throat, affected as well, his violet eyes a deep purple, almost midnight. “They change out every so often. I’ve definitely seen them leave a time or two. They aren’t like us. They graduated from Astral. Why would they be stuck here?”

So I’m just being fed lies and for what?

I suck my bottom lip through my teeth, chewing on it as I try to work through my thoughts. Ambrose’s thumb is slowly pulling it free a second later, his expression warning me that continuing to do that will have something starting in front of the rest of them.

“Right, well this fucking sucks.”

Everyone murmurs their agreement before we somehow all agree to start a game of truth or dare. Ambrose gets the first question and I fear that I’ll be first. Thank the goddess that I’m not that lucky. He asks Harlow and the spirit chuckles nervously before saying truth.

Probably a safe bet.

“So, hot stuff, ever fuck your boyfriend while you’re invisible? Just slide right up and take him?”

I choke on my drink and pass the bottle before sitting up straight, feeling Harlow’s cock thicken against my ass cheeks. I blame whatever is happening on Jade’s inability to control his essence because Harlow isn’t the only one hard. I expect Harlow to take a swig of the nearly empty rum at this point but he doesn’t. His essence wraps around me, a nonexistent hand gripping me through my pants.

“Never tried it but now I kind of want to.” He gives me a few good strokes, pulling a strangled groan from my lips before I crawl off his lap. The distance will do nothing to stop him from touching me now that he knows he can and goddess, I hope he forgets that in the morning.

Ambrose finds himself hilarious, Harlow cutting him off as he focuses on Stellan. “Truth or dare, dragon?”

Stellan snorts. “I’m not a dragon.”

“I’ve seen smoke rising from your skin when you have too much essence. The next step would be literally breathing fire. Doesn’t matter. Truth or dare?”

He takes a moment to think, twisting and turning his fingers in his lap before meeting my eyes. I’m not sure what he wants from me but he finds it and nods. “Dare.”

Harlow grins. “Touch me. No, not like that you pervert. Jade is able to drink in your essence. It gives you both relief. Skye… I don’t know what that fucking was but you both looked like you were in bliss. I have a hypothesis that each of us—our essence can help each other in some way. So, touch.” He holds out his hand and Stellan stares at it like it’s offended him. We’re all waiting to see what will happen, Stellan’s eyes darting between the bottle sitting in Rumi’s lap and Harlow.

For a moment, I think he’ll drink and then he reaches across the circle and visibly relaxes. “Your essence… it’s cold. Sweet Jesus, how’s that possible?” His fingers curl around Harlow’s as those gray eyes of his brighten and then fade, a flash of orange aura zipping through their connection.

Harlow pulls away, playing with the essence as it seeps into his. “That’s a fucking rush.”

Ambrose answers Stellan’s lingering question as he finishes the bottle beside him. “I think it has something to do with our ‘reject’ status. Our essence is freer, less constrained. However, I also think it has to do with the fact that your essence is meant to be released and ours is to absorb or take. Put that criteria together and you’ve found Magila that can weather your essence. It’s amazing that everything we’ve learned outside this academy doesn’t compare to what we’ve picked up inside here.” Ambrose’s words are beginning to slur, his hair falling in front of his face. We’re all kind of at the end of our night and the safe bet would be to nip this game in the bud even after two questions. None of us are ready to leave this little circle, however, and I find myself more comfortable here than I ever was at Benson University.

It’s a terrifying thought.

Stellan purses his lips together and emits a low whistle as he leans back on his hands. He wobbles a little and then looks at Rumi. “Truth or dare.” Rumi thinks through it and then says truth. I’m not sure if he is scared of what Stellan will choose or if he doesn’t believe that any question asked will be too difficult to answer. “What are you? What do you think you are? I know it’s impolite to ask but I can gauge everyone else here. Not you, though. And you barely use your essence at all. All I know is that it’s gold.”

I’m curious too.

Rumi tenses, drawing in a large breath before releasing it, his eyes downcast. “That’s a bit of a loaded question, Stellan. My essence wasn’t always gold. It used to be white. They thought I was purity reborn, held me on a goddamn pedestal. And with the wings? I was basically the second coming of Jesus or some shit. At Astral, everything changed. I found that my essence was strongest when I channeled my emotions, when I fed the anger and the hurt and the disappointment. That’s when it turned gold.”

“Hold on a second,” I jump in, trying to understand. “A Magila’s essence is their very being. It can’t just change like that. Can it? I’ve never heard that before.”

The mage offers an insight that I’m sure none of us knew. “It used to. Essence is free and unbidden. It morphs and figures out what it wants to be before it settles. Way before Astral Academy became the main gathering grounds of all Magila, those with essence weren’t fit into a box until they started the academy. I had no idea it wasn’t always gold, we’ve never spoken about it but it used to be more common.”

Rumi seems relieved but his story also isn’t done. “My emotions feed my essence. As for what my abilities are, that’s a hard thing to answer. They span so many of the elements that it doesn’t make sense. I have a second form like a Versipelles but I can also wield my essence like Ambrose. I’m neither a mage nor an earth elemental, though. The power of suggestion and the ability to fuck with people’s perception is another thing. That falls more into the spirit category. I have no idea what I am and I don’t think I’ve even scratched the surface of what I can do.”

I’ve heard a term or two, thrown around in those Magila histories in my office. I’ve gone through a large chunk, realizing just how much isn’t taught in schools anymore. However, the one thing I did stumble upon was a Magila who didn’t fit into a box. They called him all sorts of things—demon, monster, abomination but it was the one word that stood out the most—demigod.

No one in this room is ready to hear that as a designation.

He’s not born of the gods but his essence gives him more power than most Magila, hence the joke that he’s of the gods. I’ll bring it up later.

Rumi’s lost a little color after sharing a piece of his story and I wonder how much between him and Ambrose there is in this place. I’m sure they could write their own histories and it would be both colorful and depressing what they’ve been through. I shift uncomfortably in my spot, trying not to bring attention to my dick. It’s pressing against the seam of my pants, my gaze falling on Jade who’s sheepishly looking into his lap.

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