Page 33 of A Touch of Madness

The next roomRavenna leads us to feels entirely different from the grand, ceremonial chamber we just left. This one is smaller, warmer, with the faint scent of lavender and cinnamon filling the air. Soft golden light spills from sconces on the walls, illuminating shelves lined with jars of herbs, ancient books, and vials of shimmering liquids.

“This is where we can practice the incantation and continue building up your strength in a safe environment,” Ravenna explains as she gestures for us to enter. “It’s a sacred space, designed to focus and amplify magical energy. You’ll need every advantage you can get.”

The air in here feels heavier, electric, as though it thrums with an invisible current. I step inside cautiously, my fingers brushing against the edge of the long wooden table that dominates the center of the room. At its heart is an intricate carving of a sigil—a symbol I don’t recognize but can’t seem to look away from.

Ravenna moves to the far side of the room, where another woman stands waiting. She’s tall and willowy, her auburn hair pulled into a long loose braid that falls over her shoulder. Her olive skin glows faintly in the warm light, and her amber eyes seem to pierce straight through me.

“Sylvie, this is Cassandra,” Ravenna says, her tone respectful. “She’s an old friend and one of the Guild’s foremost practitioners of restorative magic.” Ravenna places a hand on Cassandra’s shoulder and gives her a warm smile, which the woman returns.

Cassandra turns the same smile on me, though there’s a weight to her expression that suggests she knows just how impossible this task feels to me right now.

“So you’re the Everdawn heir,” Cassandra says, her voice smooth and rich. “I’ve been told you’re a quick learner. That will be necessary here.”

I swallow past my ever-growing anxiousness, feeling the weight of her gaze as though it’s pinning me in place. “I’ll do my best.”

Cassandra’s lips twitch into something like a smile, but it doesn’t quite reach her eyes. “That’s what we all hope for, isn’t it?”

Ravenna gestures to the sigil on the table. “This is the spell’s foundation. Before you can attempt the ritual itself, you’ll need to understand the incantation’s mechanics and how to harness your own energy to sustain it.”

Nicole and Rebecca stand off to the side, their presence a silent reassurance; that’s all I’ve asked of them—just to be here for me. I glance at them, drawing strength from their quiet confidence before turning my attention back to Cassandra and Ravenna.

Cassandra begins tracing the sigil with her finger, her movements deliberate and precise. “This incantation requires more than just words. It’s a weaving of power, intent, and connection. Your focus must be absolute, or the magic will unravel.”

She looks at me, her expression grave. “And if it unravels, it could take you with it. Surely our elders informed you this is not for the weak.”

The weight of her words settles over me like a lead cloak, but I force myself to nod. “What do I need to do?”

Ravenna steps forward, her voice gentle but firm. “First, you need to build your strength. This isn’t just about magic—it’s about endurance. The ritual will demand everything you have, physically and mentally.”

“What does that mean?” I ask, my stomach twisting with unease.

“It means you need to prepare your body as much as your mind,” Cassandra says. “Meditation, physical training, proper nutrition. Magic draws from your life force, and if you don’t have the reserves to sustain it, the spell could drain you completely.”

I nod slowly, the enormity of the task settling in. “And the incantation itself?”

Cassandra gestures for me to step closer. “Let’s start with the basics.”

She begins to recite the spell, her voice steady and resonant. The words are unfamiliar, a mix of harsh consonants and flowing vowels that seem to hum with energy as she speaks them. I repeat after her, stumbling over the unfamiliar syllables at first but gradually finding a rhythm after a few minutes of repetitive practice.

“Good,” Cassandra says. “Now, try again, but this time, focus on channeling your intent into the words. Speak them as though you’re shaping reality itself. As if you can move mountains with your palms.”

I take a deep breath and close my eyes, letting the words flow from my lips. As I speak, I focus on delivering the intent, and I feel a faint stirring in the air around me, as though the room itself is responding to the magic I’m trying to summon.

“Better,” Cassandra says, nodding. “But you’ll need to do more than stir the air. This spell requires precision and strength in equal measure.”

Ravenna steps forward, placing a hand on my shoulder. “Sylvie, you’re doing well, but this is just the beginning. You’ll need to practice until the incantation becomes second nature—until it feels as natural as breathing. Like your body could do it on its own.”

I nod, though the enormity of what lies ahead feels like a mountain I’m not sure I can climb.

“Let’s try again,” Cassandra says, her tone encouraging.

And we do.

For the next hour, we work through the incantation, breaking it down into smaller sections and practicing each one until the words begin to feel less foreign on my tongue. By the end of the session, my head aches, and my muscles feel as though I’ve run a marathon, even though I haven’t moved from my spot.

“You’re making progress,” Cassandra says, her expression softening slightly. “But this is only the beginning. The real challenge will be sustaining the spell during the ritual.”

“How do I do that?” I ask, my voice hoarse from repeating the incantation over and over.

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