Page 6 of Stolen Magic

CHAPTER 3

The cat’s contented purrs lured me from sleep like a gentle lullaby, the most peaceful way I’d woken since the nightmares began plaguing me. The animal I had rescued lay curled against my chest, having remained by my side throughout the entire night, watching over me the way Mother once had. I didn’t immediately open my eyes, afraid of shattering this pocket of contentment, more rare than the elusive magic that had nearly gone extinct within our kingdom.

The sight of my new companion was the first to greet me. The cat’s coat shimmered beneath the thin, pale rays of dawn, as silvery and mystical as morning mist…and almost as fleeting, as if it would disappear at any moment. In my desperation to hold onto it before it slipped away, I instinctively burrowed my fingers in the cat’s soft fur, relishing both the presence of another living being and the subtle pulse of magic against my palm, evidence that the cat possessed an enchantment all her own.

A distant memory stirred. I’d been ten years old when Mother passed, so my magical education had been minimal. What little knowledge I’d gleaned from those early years wasslowly fading through the passage of time, becoming as scarce and precious as the magic that once saturated the land. Among her fragmented teachings still clinging to my memory was her lesson on names—the power they held, both for living and nonliving entities, as well as the profound bonds they forged when given.

Mother had often told me, “To name something is to claim a piece of its essence, to hold a portion of its fate within your hands.” This deeply ingrained tenet surfaced now as I gazed at the mystical creature before me, urging me to whisper the name I felt suited her in order to forge an unbreakable bond.

“Myst,” I murmured.

The name seemed to hang between us, shimmering with unseen energy, as if the world itself recognized its significance. The air around us glistened, bathing me in a power reminiscent of the day my own magic had first awakened—a day of light and shadows, of immense potential unleashed. I felt the skin around my scar tighten in recognition.

A vivid tapestry of images and emotions that transcended language unfurled in my mind, sweeping me into a realm of shared consciousness. Within this mystical communion, Myst offered a gift: the use of her heightenedsenses and magical intuition. Whether it was simply a sense of debt for my rescuing her or she had some deeper purpose, I wasn’t sure, but I felt the weight of her offering. This was more than a simple agreement—it was a bond, a living thread between witch and familiar, a covenant that wove our fates together as tightly as any spell could bind.

Part of my magical studies had included learning about the familiars—enchanted loyal companions who lent their power to the witches they served. This once imagined potential future had been one of the many casualties when my power had been stolen.

I had dim memories of Mother’s familiar, Noctuna—a petite, snowy white owl that loved to perch on her shoulder and aided her with its night vision whenever she hunted for particular herbs that needed to be harvested by moonlight. The bird had died not long before the attack, and she hadn’t been interested in seeking out a new companion, telling me that I was all the familiar she needed.

As a child I’d dreamed of what animal might have its path bound with mine, a dream that had been cut off with my magic. But now the restoration brought by this newfound connection offered a sliver of hope in an otherwise colorless world—a chance to not only reclaim a piece of what I’d lost, but to draw the necessary strength to forge ahead, fueled by the hatred that burned as the lone flame in my ever-present darkness.

Myst roused, her sleek fur shimmering as if dusted with starlight as she stretched languidly, arching her back in an elegant curve before leaping gracefully to the floor. Her movements were silent, ethereal, seeming to glide just above the ground, almost as if she transcended our world.

She glanced back at me, her wide, grey eyes gleaming with a luminescence that glowed in the faint morning light.Follow me. The command wasn’t spoken aloud, yet somehow I still understood it, a clear message mysteriously transmitted through a magical telepathy said to exist between a witch and her familiar, a bond I’d thought was forever out of my reach.

Myst’s tail flicked in a beckoning motion before she began to lead the way with a confident, almost regal gait. I followed her outside and into the forest, its awaiting secrets cloaked in the dim light of dusk. The underbrush rustled beneath my feet with every step, the ancient woods echoing with the sounds of a world fading into twilight. Myst’s silhouette flitted between the trees, often pausing to sniff the air or stare intently at spaces where Isaw nothing but shadows, her ears twitching at sounds I couldn’t hear.

Our journey took us deeper into the forest than I had ever dared to venture alone. The trees here were older, their trunks wide and gnarled, their branches knitting a dense canopy overhead. Myst’s eyes glowed softly in the darkness, reflecting back the faint light of the few stars that managed to pierce the leafy veil above. Despite being far out of my usual territory with no guide other than a magical animal I’d met only the day before, I felt no fear, trusting the cat as she confidently wove her way through the undergrowth.

As the cat moved purposefully towards some unknown destination, I felt a familiar tingle. I wasn’t sure whether it was just awareness of the magical being in front of me or a trace of nearby magic, but the feeling grew stronger until Myst suddenly paused near a cluster of ferns growing beneath an ancient oak. I sensed her silent urging me to investigate them and knelt down. There, hidden beneath the fronds, lay a small cache of glistening magic, pulsing gently in the settling night. I tentatively brushed the surface, a touch that sent a shiver of recognition. This was raw magic, unrefined and wild.

Heart pounding, I carefully gathered the shimmery essence, pulling my lead-lined necklace from beneath my dress and using a small vial from one of my bottled remedies to carefully scoop it up and trickle every precious drop into my pouch. I tied the pouch firmly shut, sealing the magic within as I felt a surge of gratitude. Its increased weight testified of the amount now in my possession, a promise of potential spells waiting to be cast.

I savored the heft of my new stores for a wondrous moment before casting my cat a curious look. “How is it that you know where to find magic? I thought it was all but extinct; it’s so rare that I find even a slight trace.”

Myst didn’t answer, and with her silence I felt my first hints of reservation towards my new companion. This flicker of suspicion wormed its way into my thought as my familiar navigated the forest’s shadowed underbrush. Her timely arrival seemed almost too fortuitous, her powers too aptly suited to my desperate need for companionship and the magical connection I desperately sought, too orchestrated to be mere coincidence.

Oblivious or simply indifferent to my momentary reservation, Myst watched me with keen interest, her tail flicking back and forth without any sign of malice. For all her feline grace and loyalty, Myst was still an enigmatic creature steeped in enchantment in a land where such forces had become nothing more than a fading whisper. Was something more at play than the supposed mere chance that brought us together?

My desire for the power Myst had led me to eclipsed my need for caution, yet these questions continued to haunt me as we moved silently through the dense foliage. I observed her with a keener eye for any hint of deception, a necessary precaution to safeguard the fragile remnants of trust I clung to after years of isolation and betrayal. Yet her elusive nature made her undisclosed motives impossible to detect.

The deeper we ventured into the forest, the more oppressive the silence I’d once found solace in became. The grief and resentment long buried rose like a tide to the surface, festering in my heart like a wound that refused to heal…until my desperation to trust my new companion overwhelmed the walls I’d so carefully built.

“Magic once used to fill this land.” My hesitant voice echoed against the dense canopy of trees; Myst flicked a silver ear back towards me as she continued padding on her velvety feet. “But years ago it was stolen by the kingdom of Eldoria.” The name was poison on my tongue, each syllable stoking the anger and heartache that burned relentlessly within my heart.

Myst gave me a curious look that seemed to question my assessment. Though I hadn’t witnessed my mother’s death firsthand, the flag bearing the royal insignia of Eldoria that had fluttered proudly over our world rendered to ashes was confirmation enough; each line of that emblem had been etched into my mind, a permanent scar impossible to forget…and I hadn’t.

“Eldoria was undoubtedly responsible,” I said. “Thus I will ensure that they pay. Deep down, I know that revenge won’t bring my mother back, nor will it fill the void she left behind.” My voice broke slightly with this truth I hadn’t allowed myself to acknowledge, yet it changed nothing. “I don’t care that my pursuit is futile—there’s nothing I’ve ever wanted more.”

Myst continued to gaze at me with an unreadable expression while I clenched my jaw in anger. Since no amount of power could restore Mother to me, seeking retribution against those who had torn her from me seemed the next best option.

“I know the path of vengeance is treacherous,” I murmured, more to myself than to her. “And yet it calls to me, unyielding and seductive.” Even with this burning desire, I was painfully aware of my limitations—lacking both the means and the specific knowledge of whom to target with my revenge.

Myst seemed be listening keenly as I spoke, peering up at me with her wide, lamp-like eyes, her gaze intense and knowing, reflecting an understanding that went beyond mere animal instinct. In that moment, with the forest around us holding its breath, she offered an empathy I hadn’t realized I’d been seeking, as if she understood the complexities of my grief, rage, helplessness, and offered her companionship as solace. To my surprise, her presencewascomforting, and I felt a sense of relief at being able to share my struggle with someone, even if it was an animal.

We paused to take a lunch and rest our feet, sharing a meager meal that I supplemented with some greens and berries I’d foraged. Myst groomed herself silently as I continued my story, voicing aloud for the first time my pain and desire to restore justice.

I sensed a shift in her purpose when we resumed walking, venturing farther into the trees in a direction different to the one we’d traversed before. After nearly an hour Myst suddenly stopped, her body tensed and alert, her eyes gleaming with a mix of excitement and caution. The tang of magic hung palpably in the air, and following her gaze, I saw it—a faint glow emanating from a hollow in an old tree. As I approached, the air grew thick with the scent of moss and earth, the glow intensifying until it bathed the hollow in a soft, ethereal light.

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