Page 92 of Eluvonia
“You’re trying too hard,” she says softly. “Magic isn’t about force. It’s about flow. Relax.”
I snort. “Relaxing isn’t exactly my strong suit.”
She smiles faintly, as though she already knew that. “Then it is something you must learn.”
I exhale sharply, closing my eyes again. This time, I focus on the sensations around me—the warmth of the sun on my skin, the coolness of the breeze, the faint rustle of leaves. Slowly, almost imperceptibly, I start to feel… something. A faint hum beneath my fingertips, like the ground is alive with an energy I can’t quite grasp.
“There,” the Ymiral says quietly. “You’re close.”
I frown, concentrating harder. The hum grows stronger, but it’s slippery, elusive, like trying to catch smoke with bare hands. Frustration bubbles up, and I grit my teeth. “It’s not working.”
“It is,” she counters. “You’re just not trusting yourself. Let go, Aeris.”
“Let go of what?” I snap, opening my eyes and glaring at her. “I don’t even know what I’m doing!”
She meets my gaze calmly, her glowing eyes unwavering. “You are overthinking. Magic is not logic. It is instinct. Trust it.”
I groan, throwing my hands up in exasperation. “Great. Trust my instincts. Because that’s never backfired before.”
Her gaze softens, and for the first time, there’s a hint of sympathy in her expression. “You are stronger than you think, Aeris. But strength is not enough. You must learn to trust—not just the magic, but yourself.”
Her words hang in the air, heavy and undeniable. I hate how they make sense.
With a resigned sigh, I close my eyes again. This time, I don’t try to force it. I let the hum come to me, let it seep into my skin like sunlight warming my bones. Slowly, the energy shifts, flowing through me like a river finding its course. It’s faint, a whisper rather than a roar, but it’s there.
“I feel it,” I say softly, the words barely audible.
The Ymiral’s smile is subtle but genuine. “Good. Now, draw it in.”
I furrow my brow, focusing on the energy. It resists, like a tide pulling away from the shore, but I dig deeper, coaxing it gently rather than demanding. Gradually, the resistance lessens, and I feel a flicker of warmth in my chest, faint but unmistakable.
“Yes,” the Ymiral murmurs. “That is the realm’s magic. You’ve found it.”
I open my eyes, a mix of relief and disbelief washing over me. “I did it?”
She nods, her expression serene but proud. “You did.”
I glance down at my hands, half-expecting to see some visible sign of the magic coursing through me. A spark, aglow—something. But there’s nothing, only the faint warmth in my chest and the lingering hum beneath my skin.
Frowning, I lift my palm and focus, reaching for that elusive thread of energy. Slowly, tendrils of light weave together, delicate and uncertain, until a single rose blooms in my hand. Its petals shimmer like morning frost, fragile yet impossibly real.
Encouraged, I will it to grow, to flourish into something greater. But the light flickers, resisting my command, and no matter how hard I try, the rose remains unchanged.
“It’s… not much,” I admit, my voice tinged with disappointment.
“It is a beginning,” she says firmly. “The first spark of a fire that will grow in time. Be patient, Aeris.”
I sigh, leaning back on my hands and staring up at the canopy above. The sunlight filters through the leaves, dappling the clearing in gold and green. It’s beautiful, in a way that feels almost sacred.
For a moment, I let myself simply exist in the stillness, the warmth of the realm’s magic, a quiet reminder of what I’ve accomplished. It’s not much, but it’s enough. For now.
Chapter 39
AERIS
The vine snaps into place between my hands, its texture coarse and alive under my fingers. I pull, feeling the taut strength of it hum like a living thing. It’s almost perfect now, the bow I’ve spent the better part of a week forming. Yesterday’s version was floppy and unpredictable, and the arrows barely flew straight. Today, they pierce targets with satisfying precision.
“Again,” the Earth Ymiral commands from behind me, her voice as even and grounded as ever.
