Day Three
The fox died. A sad necessity.
Phasmatos Tribum, Nas Ex Veras, Ante Astenia.
The spirit didn't resist. It had no reason to. Just drifted in, dim and flickering, like old coals. I reached out, tried to pull something from it. But whatever had been altered before was gone. All that remained was fear. Instinct.
Death erased my influence. The spell couldn't hold past the threshold.
"Noted."
Emotional Manipulation
This kind of magic wasn't brute force. No sharp pain. No death. Emotions move. They don't like being cornered.
But magic is intent. So, I'm trying my best not to lose focus.
Letari Cordis.
Almost silent. The rabbit in the cage twitched, nose flaring. It was afraid. Of me. Of the cage. Of the unknown.
I didn't touch it. I let the spell reach out thin, like smoke. Wrapped around its body. With a slight pressure.
The fear slipped. Eyes softened. Breath slowed. And its body relaxed.
"Just Calm."
It stayed still. Leaned against the bars. Let me touch its fur like we were familiar. I proceeded to jot down my findings.
Subject: Rabbit
Effect: Fear to Calm
Result: Immediate. Temporary.
Once I let go, the fear returned. Slower, but steady.
The spell only held with active control.
Not what I imagined, but still useful nonetheless.
Day Four
I didn't sleep. Not properly. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw what I'd done. Still, I didn't stop.
Some would call it detachment. I call it direction.
I made a note: "Scale back on unnecessary death."
Day Five
The rain came hard. Hit the cabin like it was trying to get in. Didn't faze me. My attention was on the one spell I hadn't touched.
Biological Manipulation. Healing.
Risk-heavy. If you lost control, your body paid for it. Organs, bones, nerves, twisting themselves into something unfixable.
But I knew what I was doing... somewhat.
I took the blade. Cut across my palm. Blood welled up. Pain was clean.
Sanare Corpus.
Heat spread under the skin. Slow. Sure. The flesh stitched itself back without a trace.
No scar. No sting.
I laughed. Not out of joy. Just quiet recognition.
It worked.
Back to Reality
The clock read 10:48 PM. School started in the morning.
I sat at the table. Notebook wide open. Pages scattered with diagrams, notes, and sigils. Most of it incomplete. A few breakthroughs. A lot of failure.
"One day," I said.
Closed the book. Got in bed. Let sleep take me.
"Morpheus. Don't waste my time."
Woke up to dust and sunlight. The cabin smelled of all the animals that I brought into it, along with some of the blood.
Breakfast was dry: a granola bar and water. The fridge was empty. I haven't had the time or interest to restock as I was getting used to the thrill of having magic.
I grabbed my journal and flipped through it. Spells, Personal Experiments, mistakes, and other spells/theoretical knowledge that I had taken from my mother's journals, stopping on the latest page I see it.
Subtilis Fortitudo
The spell enhanced whatever you focused on to a certain extent, such as strength, speed, or awareness. My mother documented it, but she never cast it.
She feared the side effects.
However, I'm not her.
I stepped outside while simultaneously casting the spell, trying not to fuck it up.
Subtilis Fortitudo: Velocitas.
The spell's effects were barely noticeable. No surge. No rush.
I waited.
Still nothing.
I moved to the dirt path and marked it like I used to on the field. Forty yards, just like practice.
I took a breath. Ran.
At first, I felt normal. Then it didn't.
Speed built under me like a second engine. My feet barely touched ground. Vision blurred. Breath caught. Then I stopped, ten steps past where I should've been.
Chest heaving.
"Holy shit."