Nature Mage (23 page)

“What I propose we do is remove your block before you meditate, rather than in the middle of the process.” Gaspi nodded, keen to get on with it. “This way, you can approach your power from a distance, get as close as you want to it, and then withdraw. If we released your block when you’re already deep into meditation, it might be a bit overwhelming,” Hephistole explained. “How does that sound?”

“Sounds fine to me,” Gaspi said.

“As you approach your power,” Hephistole continued, “try to engage it very lightly. Don’t grab it, and don’t go too fast.” He waited for Gaspi to show he understood. “Once you’re in touch with it, try to relax and keep letting it go and retreating. Once I know you can control it I will be happy to remove the block for good. Okay...are you ready?”

Gaspi had a fleeting moment of uncertainty, awoken by an image of Jakko and Brock covered in specks of blood, fleeing for their lives. Hephistole must have sensed his hesitancy. “Don’t worry, Gaspi,” he said. “If it gets out of control I’ll put the block right back in, okay?”

Reassured, Gaspi’s enthusiasm came rushing back. “Okay...I’m ready,” he said.

“Good lad,” said Hephistole. He pushed himself out of chair and came over to Gaspi’s chair. Placing his hand gently on Gaspi’s head, Hephistole closed his eyes. Gaspi closed his eyes too, trying to sense what Hephistole was doing. He was still ranging inwards, when Hephistole began to hum. It was a curious little tune, strangely jumpy and counter-intuitive, and then it stopped. Hephistole took his hand away and stepped back. “It’s done,” he said.

“I don’t feel any different,” Gaspi said.

“No, you wouldn’t,” Hephistole responded. “The difference will be obvious when you touch your power.”

“Why were you humming, Hephistole?” Gaspi asked curiously.

“That’s how I chose to create your block,” he answered. “I infused a musical signature with magic, and simply hummed it backwards to release the block.”

“Oh!” Gaspi said, remembering what Professor Worrick had said about ways of releasing magic, intrigued by the possibilities this opened.

“Some people use the same methods for releasing magic every time, whereas I like a bit of variety,” Hephistole enthused. “But enough of that – it’s time for you to experience your power.” Without waiting for a response, Hephistole waved his hand in a clockwise motion, and sound filled the air. The music was similar to that conjured by Emelda, but deeper somehow, more complex and compelling. The effect of the tea seemed to intensify, gentle waves of warmth drawing Gaspi down into an increasingly relaxed state. “I’m not going to lead your meditation,” Hephistole said. “It’s best if you do this for yourself. Just practice what Miss Emelda has taught you, until you become aware of your spirit.”

“Okay,” Gaspi said.

“You don’t have to let me do this,” Hephistole continued, “but it would be easier for me to help you if I can observe what’s happening. Do you mind if I send a probe into your consciousness?”

“That’s fine,” Gaspi said, comfortable that Hephistole was someone he could trust.

“Thank you Gaspi,” Hephistole said, sincerely gratified. “Then let’s begin.”

Gaspi closed his eyes and began the exercises Emelda had taught him, breathing evenly and deeply and allowing his worries to evaporate as he tried to enter an altered state of consciousness. It didn’t surprise him that it came very easily to him, and, aided by the tea and the hypnotic sonorities of Hephistole’s music, he attained a deep state of peace more quickly than he’d yet managed. He allowed his imagination to form his secret place around him, and soon he was appreciating the glistening water and lush foliage of his inner sanctum. Gaspi became aware of a presence with him, and was momentarily confused until he recognised it for what it was; Hephistole was with him, an invisible, silent presence at his side. Putting his concern aside, Gaspi turned his attention back to the scene, drinking in the details, allowing his meditative state to deepen further as the sights and sounds around him became crystalline in clarity. He felt the desire to lie down on the grassy banks of the lake and let the movement of the clouds mesmerise him, to take off his shoes and rest his feet in the cool water of the lake; but today he had a greater mission, and didn’t allow himself to linger.

As soon as he felt able, he ranged further in, searching for the swirling white core of his spirit. It took a while, but finally sound and sight began to dissolve into greater stillness, where all quieted itself in reverence of the soul’s true essence. Gaspi drew near to the simple glowing light of his own spirit, spinning gently in its own space. Endless creativity and love beamed from his spirit, and it felt so immense to Gaspi that he had to remind himself that this was actually part of him. He wondered for a moment how something so endless and pure could exist within him. It felt so much greater than him, timeless as the mountains. Not wishing to be distracted when he was so close to his goal, he put the thought aside, determining to ask Hephistole about it later.

Gaspi drifted into the light of his own spirit, letting it surround him as he had done in Emelda’s class, and turned his thoughts to magic. He would have perhaps felt anxious if not in so relaxed a state, but as deeply focussed as he was, no fearful thoughts entered Gaspi’s mind as he began to tune his awareness in to power.

At first nothing happened, but then the slightest strands of green appeared in the white. The rich colour expanded slowly, of varying hues, permeating the globe-light of his spirit until all around him was a deep flow of green. It was as if his magic cried out to him: “Own me! Embrace me! I am your birthright.” For one last moment he hesitated, deliberately reminding himself of Hephistole’s caution. He was to engage it lightly and release it again; something that sounded easy but felt very difficult in the moment when all he wanted was to grab it with both arms and contain as much of it as possible.

Gaspi carefully extended a hand, calling the green light to his control. Tendrils of colour flowed towards his hand, circling it, twining through his fingers, settling in his palm. The last time Gaspi had tried to reach out to his power the block had been in place; an impenetrable, invisible barrier between himself and his magic. This time he felt magic’s touch: the vibrant sensation of something very much alive, coiled within him. It felt completely natural, an extension of his will, though it contained an energy of its own - something strong and eager. It wanted an outlet, somewhere to go, something to do. It was raw potential, a primordial soup of energy waiting to be drawn on. The desire to embrace it became stronger. He wanted to breath in as deeply as possible, filling himself up with life until he couldn’t contain another drop. But he remembered Hephistole’s caution once more, and released his hold. He let his hand drop to his side, consciously letting go of the magic that moments earlier had curled lovingly round his fingers.

He wasn’t sure what would happen, then. Would the magic leave him as he intended? Or would he be unable to let go? The response was instantaneous, tendrils of green retreating from his touch as if recoiled by a gentle elasticity, flowing back into the general mass of colour. Gaspi felt a sense of approval from Hephistole, whose presence he had forgotten about. Gaspi smiled, satisfied at his first successful control of magic. For the next few minutes he repeated the exercise, drawing power to him and releasing it, holding it a little longer each time. It was never easy to let go, getting harder each time he did it. He managed it several times, and on the last attempt was only just able to let go of the magic before he felt Hephistole nudging him, asking him to release his trance completely. Obediently, Gaspi went through the exercises Healer Emelda had shown him to come gently out of an altered state. When he opened his eyes a few minutes later, he was swamped by a wave of fatigue. Grunting, he slumped down in the chair, surprised at his body’s reaction to the magical exercise he’d been performing. Hephistole was at the desk, brewing another pot of tea, this time with leaves taken from a bright green jar.

He fixed Gaspi with a beady eye. “Tired, are we?” he asked.

“Yeah...very!” Gaspi said. “Why do I feel like this? Did I do something wrong?”

“Wrong?” Hephistole responded, sounding surprised. “Oh no - everything went very well.” He brought a steaming cup of tea to Gaspi. The liquid was a light green colour and smelled of spring rain and fresh, growing things.

Gaspi started to speak: “But why…?”

He didn’t get the chance to finish his sentence. “Drink up, Gaspi,” Hephistole interrupted. “Question time can wait a few minutes,” he said, with a smile. “You’ll feel better once you’ve finished this.” Gaspi took a sip of the steaming brew, then another. He wasn’t surprised when he quickly began to feel revived. He was still tired, but manageably so, his body resting comfortably and his mind sharp. Hephistole waited while he drank the whole cup down.

“Okay,” the Chancellor began. “Let me explain a few things, and if I miss anything else out you can ask me afterwards, okay?” Gaspi nodded.

“Using magic is just like using any other part of your mind or body,” he continued. “Imagine that the part of you that uses arcane power is like a muscle. At the moment yours is unused, and therefore very weak. Follow me so far?”

“Yep,” Gaspi said.

“When you first touched you power today you were able to let it go relatively easily, am I right?”

“Yeah, sort of,” Gaspi answered. “It was still hard to let go, but it was easier than the other times.”

“Exactly,” Hephistole said. “If you lift a big rock over your head it will be easiest the first time, then it will get harder and harder, until you can’t lift it at all. It’s just fatigue, and the more you practice the stronger those muscles will get. Even the most powerful Mages get tired, Gaspi. Many a duel between equally-matched spell-casters has been decided by who has the most endurance. They can both throw powerful spells at each other and defend against the other’s attacks, but if you run out of energy, the simplest spell can kill you if you can’t defend against it. This is particularly dangerous with magic, Gaspi, as it takes a certain kind of effort to release it, too. If you’re in a weakened state it can not only be difficult to use magic, but also to release it at the end. If you’re really weak, you may not be able to sever the connection, and then you end up being drained by the magic until all your life force is gone. Does that explain why it became harder and harder for you to release the magic?”

“Yeah, that makes sense,” Gaspi said. “But I wasn’t even doing any actual magic! I was just holding and releasing it.”

“Quite true, young Mage,” Hephistole said. “Imagine how much harder it will be to let go when you’re actually using it to do something? I’m glad you can see that, Gaspi. The important thing for you to remember is not to rush. Your endurance will build surprisingly fast, but you must stay within your limits.”

“Okay,” Gaspi said, feeling a little discouraged at how much he had to learn, and at how little strength he had.

Hephistole must have picked up on Gaspi’s despondency. “Gaspi, you did incredibly well today. I didn’t know if you’d be able to touch and release your magic even once. I was ready to put the block back in at any moment. But you managed a lot more than that. I’m proud of you,” he said, looking steadily into Gaspi’s eyes. Gaspi flushed with pleasure and self-consciousness. Hephistole’s praise meant a lot to him.

“So the question remains,” Hephistole said more lightly, “as to whether we leave your block off or not.” He fixed Gaspi with a searching look. “What do you think, Gaspi?”

“Well, I managed the exercise okay,” Gaspi answered thoughtfully. “I mean, shouldn’t it be safe to leave it off now?”

“Maybe so,” Hephistole answered. “To be honest with you, Gaspi, what I’m concerned about is what would happen if you try to do something too stretching, and can’t let go again.. If I leave the block off, will you promise me to be extremely cautious, and if you’re even slightly uncertain about trying something, to come and ask me or Miss Emelda?”

“Definitely!” Gaspi answered emphatically. “I don’t ever want to experience that again. I’ll be careful.”

Hephistole smiled. “Okay then, Gaspi, we’ll leave it off for now. But I’ll give you a tool to use in case things go wrong and I’m not there to help you. As I said earlier, your block was put in place using a musical spell. I’m going to teach you the tune so that if things get out of hand you can replace the block yourself. How does that sound?”

“That sounds fine,” Gaspi said, curious about how to make a spell work with music. Hephistole spent the next half an hour teaching him the tune for replacing his block, until he was sure Gaspi knew it.

“The spell obviously doesn’t work just by humming the tune, or you’d be blocked again by now, wouldn’t you?” Hephistole asked rhetorically. Gaspi had worked that much out, and said so. “That is why you won’t be able to remove the block once you’ve sung it back in place,” Hephistole continued. “If you can’t touch your power, the spell-song won’t work even if the tune is right. It’s quite simple though, Gaspi; you just channel your power into the tune as you sing it. Do you think you can do that?”

“Can’t see why not,” Gaspi answered.

“Good,” Hephistole responded. “You can head off now, then.”

Gaspi was about to leave, but then he remembered the profound contact with his own spirit that had caused him so much wonder during the meditation. “Actually can I ask you something before I go?” he asked. Something about Hephistole made it easy to ask questions.

“Absolutely,” the Chancellor answered, beaming. “I shall endeavour to answer it for you to the best of my ability.”

“Well, it‘s about what happens when I meditate,” Gaspi began. It’s like my spirit is incredibly deep...bottomless, maybe. And it’s so…loving. I know it’s meant to be a part of me, but somehow it feels…bigger.” Gaspi couldn’t find any words to express what he was feeling more clearly, and fell silent, hoping Hephistole understood what he was trying to say.

“Ah, yes,” Hephistole said quietly. “You’ve stumbled across one of the great questions. I have to let you know that my answer will disappoint you, as I don’t know any better than you do! But I can share a few thoughts with you.” He looked out of the window at the distant mountains.