Rylan’s voice is calm, steady. “That’s okay. Don’t force it. This isn’t about controlling every aspect of the magic—it’s about working with it. You’re trying too hard to make it do what you want. Let it flow, and let it respond to you naturally.”
I take a shaky breath, but the frustration doesn’t ease. “It’s just… It’s like the more I try to reach it, the more it runs away. It’s like I’m chasing something that doesn’t want to be caught.”
He steps closer, his tone gentle but firm. “How are you feeling right now? Tell me what’s going on in your head.”
I close my eyes again, trying to sort through the tangled mess of emotions. “I’m… I’m frustrated. It feels like the more I try, the more I’m losing it. And then I start to panic, thinking that if I can’t do this, I’ll never be able to control it.”
Rylan’s hand rests on my shoulder, grounding me. “That’s exactly it. You’re putting too much pressure on yourself. You’re trying to control something that doesn’t need to be controlled so tightly. You’re not failing—you’re just approaching it the wrong way.”
I open my eyes, meeting his gaze. “So, what do I do?”
“Trust yourself,” he says simply. “Trust that the magic is there, that it’s part of you. It’s not going anywhere, Eira. So don’t chase it. Invite it. Let it come to you.”
I nod slowly, his words sinking in. “Invite it. Don’t chase it.”
“Exactly,” he says, stepping back. “Let’s try again. Closeyour eyes, breathe, and this time, just let the magic flow. Don’t force it to be what you want—let it show you what it can be.”
I close my eyes again, taking a deep breath. The image of the pond returns, but this time, I don’t try to grab it or force it into my hand. I just let it flow, imagining it as a part of me, something that’s always been there, waiting for me to acknowledge it.
And slowly, I begin to feel it. The magic responds, not with the wild rush of fear or desperation, but with a gentle, steady pulse.
“It’s there. Tell me what to do.”
“Now, gently, try to conjure some water into your hand, a little small orb of water in your palm. Picture it in your mind, and then project it onto your hand, using the water as your medium.”
Taking a deep breath, I reach out, not with desperation but with trust, and I feel… something in my hand. Wet. Fluid. It slowly condenses, the feeling narrowing and thickening until a small but solid presence forms in my palm. I open my eyes, and there it is, shimmering in the morning light, a pool of water.
“Good, now shape it,” I hear Rylan’s voice, instructing me.
I slowly exhale and picture a ball and slowly, I feel the water shifting, swirling within itself, forming a perfect sphere. The surface is smooth, cool to the touch, but inside, there’s movement, a gentle, swirling dance of energy that’s both contained and free. The orb pulses with a soft light, catching the morning sun and refracting it into a thousand tiny rainbows, each one a testament to the power I hold in my hand. It’s beautiful, mesmerising, and most of all, it’s mine—born not of fear, but of control, of trust.
My heart swells with relief and pride, and I can’t help the smile that spreads across my face.
Rylan grins. “You did it,” he whispers, as if he’s scared to break the spell.
I freeze, every muscle tensed, the orb still hovering in my palm. My breath comes in ragged gasps, but I don’t let go, not yet. I’m not ready to let it go.
“You did it,” he repeats louder, and there’s a note of pride in his voice that makes my heart swell. “I told you you could.”
I nod, unable to speak, too overwhelmed by the realisation that I’ve done it. The fear that once gripped me, the sense of being out of control—it’s gone, replaced by something new, something powerful. I reclaimed my magic today, and for the first time, I feel like it’s truly mine. I let out a shaky breath, finally allowing the orb to dissolve back into the stream of magic within me. It fades away, but the sense of control, of power, remains. I meet Rylan’s gaze, and for the first time, I truly believe that I can do this.
“See?” Rylan breathes, his eyes filled with hope. “You’re stronger than you think, Eirabella. This is just the beginning.”
And finally it sounds like a promise, rather than a threat.
NINETEEN
Rylan
The eyesof each council member meet mine as I stare at them, moving down the assembly table. “My sources tell me the rebels are probably planning to move during the Solstice. It’s a time when the kingdom is vulnerable, when our guards will be spread thin from all the events, and they know it. We’ve already noticed smaller movements—scouts, preparations—but nothing overt yet. They’re careful. They don’t want to tip their hand too early.”
The room falls silent as the information sinks in. I can feel the unease spreading, each of them trying to measure the scope of what we’re up against.
“Do we have confirmation on where they plan to strike first?” Duke Ornero asks, his voice tight with concern.
I glance at Mathis, who gives a slight nod. “Nothing concrete yet. But based on our most recent reports, their strategy appears to focus on the northern and eastern villagesalong our borders with Avaron and Solthera.” I let the pause hang for a moment before adding, “We need to divert attention there, but subtly. If we act too quickly, we risk alerting them and pushing their plans forward.”
The older councilman leans forward, his frown deepening. “This seems... coordinated. More than we’ve seen from the rebellion before.”
