Restriction

by CM Raymond

  Hours seemed to pass as she lost herself to the peace of this world. Those few instances where the thoughts tried to intrude again, it was but a small task to release them and sink back into the calm she had before.

  When she finally opened her eyes, all Hannah noticed was the flower.

  Instead of trying to command something to happen, she imagined a beautiful blossom bursting open where the bud sat in her palm.

  As she did, her eyes glowed red, and a flower unfurled into existence. She smiled, then plucked it gently and held it up to her nose, breathing in the sweet fragrance.

  It was like smelling flowers for the first time.

  She looked around, reveling in the peace and calm of the river before standing up, grabbing Sal and making her way down the path the magician had gone. It took only thirty steps before the birds heard her gripe. “Ow! Fine! But don’t be asking for a ride, you can walk the whole way on those spindly little legs.”

  “Nicely done, Hannah,” the magician said when she had returned to the tower. “I had half expected you to be out there all night.” He nodded to her hand. “Evidenced by that flower and your reptile companion, your connection with nature must be very strong. Most likely stronger than my own. Now, you must meditate every day out here. You will only get stronger and the bond will be reciprocated. Nature will do your bidding, but it might also require something of you.”

  Hannah stooped and picked up Sal, letting Zeke’s semi-ominous words rush over her. “If it will help me get back at those bastards, then I’m ready to pay it, whatever the cost.”

  She looked up at the old man. There was a strange look in his eyes, something akin to sadness. He opened his mouth, then shut it again. Like he was trying to stifle a lecture.

  Finally, he said, “Your passion is good, Hannah. But for now, why don’t you get some food and rest. We will continue tomorrow.”

  “Are you sure?”

  He nodded. “I’m sure. Avenging the wronged can’t be a full-time occupation after all. Besides, I wouldn’t be much of a teacher if I didn’t give my students a break occasionally. Now, come inside and tell me more about the cons you and Parker used to pull. I have no desire to get pickpocketed by some kid from the Boulevard next time I’m in the city.”

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  “Tell me, what do you know about mental magic?”

  Ezekiel looked down at Hannah as he opened another room. Her training had been going well. Each day she had spent time meditating by the river. Her progress there convinced Ezekiel that she would surpass him in nature magic one day.

  Her work with physical magic was equally impressive, although she lacked any sort of finesse. For Hannah, it was all rage. But rage was as good a starting place as any.

  Now, after weeks of training, Ezekiel had finally reached the decision to begin work on the third form.

  “Not much. Only that it’s what the mystics study,” Hannah said confidently as they walked into the training room. This one was like the others, empty—mostly. Around the edges were a series of mirrors, all pointed toward the middle.

  Hannah instinctively pushed her hair back as she saw her own image staring back at her. She knew that others thought she was pretty. Enough of the boys had said so since she was a kid. But just the few days that she had been at the tower studying magic had done something to her. She could recognize a change in herself. She looked different, more mature, but she couldn’t quite place it.

  She was turning from a girl into a woman. Tapping into the power within was somehow changing her on the outside as well.

  “Very good. And what do you know about the mystics?” he asked.

  “Well, unlike druids, they actually come to Arcadia,” Hannah said. “Though they don’t stay long. No matter where I am within the city walls, I can usually find one of those freaks walking around. My mother always told me to stay away from them, or they would make me do things for them, like rob the bank or something.”

  The old man stared at her a moment, and then laughed, wiping at his eye. “They probably could, but they wouldn’t. They are, at heart, a gentle group. And yes, their chosen path has made them an odd bunch. Or maybe it was their quirkiness that lead them to the study. Regardless, despite the fear that Arcadians feel toward the mystics, they rarely use their power for violence.” Ezekiel paused. “But it can be quite violent if you have the need.”

  Hannah nodded. A strange image came to her mind. “Your little demon trick in the alley…”

  “Indeed. Mental magic. How did it work?”

  She put a hand on her hip the other raised up in the air, twisted. “Hell if I know. I’m the student, remember?”

  “Sure, but no less, you are a student with a brain. So…”

  Hannah brought her hand down as she nibbled on her lip and thought about the question.

  Over the days in the tower, she had become more comfortable with Ezekiel, and she was glad for it. It was also obvious that he was impressed with her abilities.

  Her powers were real and excelled beyond many others—or else she wouldn’t still be learning from him. But when he asked these questions, her body tightened up. She didn’t want to be wrong, and she wanted to make him proud.

  Finally, she said, “With physical magic, we manipulate the world outside of us. Nature magic communes and influences the natural world—living matter and other things. I can only assume that in mental magic we alter the way other people think. So, in the alley that day, I had thought that you were actually some sort of deranged monster. Once I learned it was you, I thought that you could somehow transform, make yourself become a monster. But if it was mental magic…” she paused a moment, considering her next words carefully.

  “Yes?” Occasionally, patience wasn’t Ezekiel’s most prevalent attribute.

  She looked at him. “You never changed at all. It was me and those douchers that changed. You actually altered the way we thought… changed what we perceived.”

  He winked at her. “Excellent. And this is really the key to this form of magic. It is like nature magic, but a little more, well, questionable.”

  “’Cause you’re screwing with people’s minds.”

  “Yes, you could say that. And as you can see, it is the form of magic with the greatest potential for evil. Thankfully, those mad for power tend to prefer the easy work of physical magic. Mental magic requires a patience that tends to weed out evil deeds, making mental magic the rarest of the magical arts.”

  “Can’t imagine what those bastards in Arcadia would do if they had that kind of power,” Hannah said. “They could really mess people up.”

  Ezekiel nodded. “Indeed. It is why I brought it to the mystics. Who else would I trust more than a group of people who were, by nature, recluses? Not to mention, their philosophy of life is bent toward detachment from our world for the sake of transcendence. They believe in a heaven that is right up here.”

  He tapped his temple. “If it were up to them, they would stay in their mountain temple in the Heights, but they make their pilgrimages into Arcadia and other cities as a way to stay connected with other men and women. A way to keep their minds connected to non-mystics. It is, of course, also why they all drink so much. Traveling into the minds of other humans can be a very disturbing thing. But getting into a human’s mind is far harder than calling on a bird to land on your finger or moving a rock. The power of suggestion is potent, but you need to burrow through any walls that might be in place. I trained the mystics on how to also manipulate their own minds to keep others out.”

  “OK,” Hannah said. “So, they can make me see monsters. What else?”

  “Like all the other arts, the sky’s the limit. The best of them can do all kinds of things.” Ezekiel started walking around the room, the mirrors reflecting him over to the mirrors on the other side, it became an almost overpowering amount of Ezekiel’s for Hannah.

  He started making expressions with his hands as he talked.

  “They are illusionists, able
to create worlds with their words. But they can also use their power to subvert the will of others. Force the minds of others into their service. They can convince the best spies to spill sworn secrets and the bravest men to quake in fear. But most mystics are pacifists and use their gifts for these things in only the direst of times. They prefer to enjoy their lives, telling stories and brightening the world around them. They also can communicate telepathically and even project their consciousnesses to see far parts of the universe.”

  Hannah, who had closed her eyes to stop the issues with the mirrors opened them, “Whoa. Mind travel? That’s pretty bad ass,” she said with wide eyes. “So, now what? Am I going to mess with your head?”

  He stopped his pacing and looked at her. “Not a chance that I’m letting you inside my brain.” He tapped his skull. “It’s far too dangerous a place.” He winked at Hannah. She smiled but wondered how much of the comment was a joke. “You’re going to work on yourself.”

  Her face scrunched together, not understanding. “What good will that do? I don’t want to brainwash myself.”

  Ezekiel smiled. “To know thyself is an honorable thing. You might just be surprised what a little self-brainwashing can do for you.”

  Ezekiel gave her basic instructions on how to focus and direct the powers toward her own mind. She was to stand in front of the mirror and persuade herself that her skin was completely blue—head to toe. He told her that the mystics were the only magicians that actually utilized words, like most people think of spells, to focus the energy within.

  “For this spell,” he said, “you will repeat the words ego sum hyacintho.”

  The girl tried the words out over and over. “What does it mean?” she asked once she had the words down.

  “Doesn’t matter,” Ezekiel said. “Remember, magic doesn’t work like most think. Like the hand motions, the words are only a tool to focus you. They could be gibberish. In fact, they are, until I tell you their meaning. But if I never told you, they would still work.”

  She looked at him. “You can be an Arcadia-sized ass sometimes, Z.”

  Ezekiel laughed. “Must come naturally because I make no attempt at assery. And all that phrase means is, ‘I am blue.’ It is in a tongue lost long before the Age of Madness. Now, enough questions. Time for work. Repeat the words, focusing on their texture and cadence. Let’s see what your mind is capable of.”

  Ezekiel closed the door behind him, leaving Hannah alone with herself. She felt more than a little absurd—and naturally so. Saying the foreign words over and over while trying to convince herself she was blue made her feel like a fool. At one point, she wondered if Ezekiel was playing her—if the mental magic trick was some sort of magician hazing. But, she tried as hard as she could to focus. The thought of scaring the hell out of Adrien’s men made it worthwhile.

  It took over two hours of practice, but finally, she opened her eyes and looked into a different world. The person staring back at her through the mirror looked exactly like herself, except for two slight differences. Her eyes had turned bright red, and her skin had taken on a light shade of blue.

  At first, she thought it was some trick of the lighting, or maybe the hours of intense concentration had broken her mind. But she moved closer to the light and examined her skin. There was no doubt that it was, in fact, blue.

  She screamed in joy, and the old man came right in as if he were waiting just outside the door.

  “So, did you do it?” he asked her.

  “See for yourself!” Hannah waved her hand in front of his face, her smile huge.

  He raised an eyebrow. “You weren’t enchanting me, Hannah. You were trying to convince yourself. Subverting the mind of others takes more than two hours of practice.”

  “Oh,” Hannah said. She thought for a second. “Then yes, it worked. I’m as blue as the sky.”

  Ezekiel smiled, then his eyes flashed red. “You are certainly a little bluer, but I’d say you look more sickly blue than sky-like blue.”

  Her eyebrows came together, “Hey, I thought you said you couldn’t see it?”

  “You aren’t the only one who was practicing their mental magic. I peered into your mind and saw that you were only giving me a half truth. And a half-assed one at that.” Despite his rebuke, his face looked more gentle than ever. “Nice work.”

  Hannah beamed. “Turning myself blue is one thing. Reading minds, now that’s a pretty cool trick.”

  Ezekiel held up his hand. “It’s magic, Hannah. Tricks are what you and your friend Parker used to do for money. This is something entirely different; we,” he pointed between the two of them, “create magic.”

  “Yeah, whatever. But… if I got really good at this, how far could I take it? Could I disguise myself as another person? Could I just make myself look like your boy Adrien and walk through the front gates of the Academy?”

  “Disguising yourself is one thing. Making yourself look exactly like another being is damn near impossible. Too many details. Too many people to influence. Remember, the entire ruse is a suggestion. You’d have to pull one over on a helluva lot of people. I’ve tried and failed many times before. The demon in the alley—that’s about the extent of my image magic. But there was one magician…”

  This time, she rolled her eyes. “Let me guess, your pupil?”

  He shrugged. “Of course. And this pupil surpassed the master in the mystic arts. And maybe you will do so as well one day, but we better take a break for now. It’s dangerous to continue on until you regain some of your energy.”

  It wasn’t until he mentioned resting that Hannah realized just how tired she was. The hours of repetitive practice took her strength, the focus sapped her will. They left the room and she reclined in the great hall, with Sal curled up into her lap. Ezekiel brought out plates of meat and vegetables. He placed a goblet of strong wine in her hand.

  “Tonight we celebrate. You have taken a step in all three of the primary magical arts.” He winked. “The Founder himself would say this is a great occasion.”

  The man was downright gleeful, and he took a large sip of his wine as if to prove the point. As Hannah picked up her glass, she looked into the deep red of the wine and an idea struck her.

  “Zeke,” she asked as he sat across from her, “the magic users in Arcadia, their eyes turn coal black when they do magic. But your eyes turn crimson. Today, when I convinced myself I had blue skin, my eyes were red as well. Why is that?”

  Ezekiel took another large sip of his drink, but the smile never faded from his face. “You really are perceptive. Tell me, how many magic users in Irth can practice all three forms of magic? I told you before that it was rare, but I didn’t tell you how rare. Can you guess?”

  Hannah only shook her head. Instead of answering, she stuffed her mouth full with a piece of cooked meat.

  “I’ll tell you. Now, let me see,” Ezekiel said, raising his fingers as if he was doing some sort of advanced calculation, pointing to one hand, and counting on the other as he looked up to the ceiling. “As best as I can tell, there are only two who practice all the forms. Me,” he looked at her as he lifted his glass and pointed it to her, “and now you.”

  Hannah nearly choked on her food. She knew that Ezekiel would push her to do great things, but to be in a category with none other than her teacher, that was something beyond her wildest dreams.

  Ezekiel laughed when he saw her reaction. “Don’t get a big head over it. You know virtually nothing in all three of them. A master of any would certainly wipe the floor with your inexperienced ass.”

  Hannah laughed at his vulgar tongue. It was something she seldom heard from the old man. “Why don’t more do it?” she finally asked, cutting into her meat for another bite.