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The next couple of weeks pass in an inspired daze of learning. Diligently. Zealously. Ceaselessly. I can't think of anything else. Never in my life have I believed I could do magic with my bare hand, and somehow, it feels like a dream coming true.

I read every shaman textbook I see, write down every spell rune I find, and memorize every way how aura behaves with different natural elements. Still, the more I figure out, the more it seems to be left to figure out, which is both intriguing and disappointing for magic, to me, always seemed to be something that requires nothing but...magic?

And soon, comes a new problem I face. My inspiration slowly dims as I meet no quick result. I now know what a locking rune looks like, but apparently, if you draw one line of it--and it has about two dozen--wrong, it won't lock anything and maybe even break something. I already broke the bathroom door at the apartments, so that's the reason why we now practice outside and without the runes. Also, I've discovered that before aura performs a trick at your will without a shaman charm, it first converts itself into the energy of your body--makes you that very charm, the vessel--but if you channel more aura than your human body can hold, it can be lethal. All that's even half of the problem, because every time I try, I fail to channel aura myself, and without aura, all the knowledge I have now is meaningless theory.

"You're not concentrating," Loretto says, a hint of reproach in faer voice.

Picking at my mentee bracelet I'm wearing again, I glare at my mentor, then at the cocoa tree leaf swirling in the cool morning air between us, carried on the shady winds of Loretto's aura surrounding it. The park at the edge of Tik'al where we've been practicing is deserted and peaceful, except for rare shamans wandering here and there sometimes, but even peace is annoying after two hours of sitting still under a tree.

Besides, Loretto was right about another thing--Maricela was definitely suspecting something. Nobody outright confronts me with questions of whether I'm a liar or not, but those rare people who unobtrusively wander the park look our way for a little too long. Since the day Loretto returned from the meeting with the empress, these obnoxious spies cast me glances every time I go to eat, walk the Great Temple's halls and Tik'al's streets, or just sit still in public, like now. They're everywhere. One of them even stalked me at the library's toilet, listening as I peed. Royal pervert.

"Maybe you're a shitty tutor." I look down at another leaf, in my hand. Loretto said the air was the easier element to master, but unlike Loretto's leaf, all mine does is jerk like it is having epileptic convulsions--and I'm not sure how I do even that. There's no aura visible around it.

"Or maybe you want me to be a shitty tutor so you don't have to try harder," Loretto replies, not offended. Making another flip through the air, the swirling leaf lands in Loretto's palm so smoothly as though for faer, it's as simple as breathing. "You asked me to teach you, why second thoughts now, Eli?"

"Because it doesn't work!" I throw my leaf to the ground near my crossed legs. The bleak rising sun filters in through the trees, illuminating the pattern of veins over the green leaf skin. "Because all I'm doing for the last two hours is feeling more and more worthless as I watch you do things I can't." And growing nervous, awaiting another spy in the bushes. What are they even looking for?

Seated in the grass opposite me, Loretto looks at the leaf I discarded, then up at me. Genuine confusion gathers between faer brows. "Well, I can give you another book. About how to--"

"No, I'm tired of your papers. I've read a pile last week. I've never read that much that fast. It's not working."

"It didn't work for me from the first attempt, either, Eli."

"You were born, knowing you'd be a shaman. I was born...troubled."

"Actually, my parents never called me a shaman when I was small. The very word means wise, the elders of the society were originally called shamans, the people who wisdom belonged to. And magic once belonged to...everyone. Like air or water or sunlight."

"And how old were you when you learned this soaring leaf trick?"

A pause.

"Five."

A clipped laugh escapes my chest. So I'm not just worse than a loser student, I'm worse than a five-year-old loser student. Fantastic. Maybe indeed everyone can channel aura--but I'm an exception, maybe that's what makes me special. Or maybe I'm too old to learn?

It felt so, so easy when I ripped the ribbon around my wrists back at that tower, so good, so strong...that sensation of magic coursing through my body like a wave of adrenaline, minty and boundless. And now, all I feel is discouragement. Lack of adrenaline. I feel as though wading through water every time I attempt to grasp that sensation again, and even though I can now fearlessly sink my hand in an aura fountain and not get burned, it won't obey my command, either. I do believe in myself, so what's wrong?

I sag back against the tree we're sitting under. "Let's have a break?"

"No." The word falls from Loretto's lips swiftly and unyieldingly, like a real teacher's order, not a friendly chat we've been having since morning. Loretto's expression hardens, just a tiny little around faer eyes as lazy breeze ruffles the tips of Loretto's long hair behind faer back, yet neither the breeze nor the soft, sunlit shadows warming faer gaze make Loretto look less unyielding. "We had a break ten minutes ago. Stop complaining and relax."

"You said try harder."

"Try to focus. Don't push yourself toward it against your will." As if sensing I'm about to argue again and ask what's the difference, Loretto leans forward and puts faer hand over my knee. The motion is startling, because Loretto has never done that before. We haven't even sat side by side for days, let alone touch each other without a practical purpose since my bruised neck was healed. And although Loretto doesn't tend to be strict about the shamans' obsession of cherishing their personal space like a medieval lady's virginity, fae seems to be the least tactile type even among shamans, never reaching for anything that can be avoided.

But I guess startling is what Loretto aimed for. "Close your eyes, Eli," fae says without acknowledging my surprise.

Rather mechanically, my eyes dart around the park, but there's no one spying on us at the moment. But if they do, who knows what those spies can tell? Valto made quite dirty conclusions even after I was simply seen at Loretto's doorstep. And nowadays, everyone knows I've been sharing the apartments with Loretto. I loathe gossip. Every gossip about you can be turned against you.

Loretto doesn't realize the danger--or, as always, doesn't care.

"Eli," Loretto presses, giving a small, reassuring nod as I don't react. "Close your eyes. Calm." And it actually feels reassuring, though I'm not sure why--because there's another magic I don't know about is involved? Or because don't see any reason for Loretto to lie to me?

Yet it's still useless. I don't need calming. I'm calm! Useless and calm. "Meditation doesn't help."

"Yes, it does. We take a step back to take two more forward."

"I hate it, Loretto."

"Then we'll keep doing it until you love it."

"Okay, I love it."

Loretto raises a brow at me.

I grumble in reply, both agreeing and disagreeing at once. But after a few useless attempts, I'll at least have the satisfaction of telling Loretto I was right it didn't work, and you owe me a break. "Fine."

I close my eyes. I take a deep breath. And--nothing happens, of course. I've read thousands of words on shaman meditations last week, about aura being the concentrated essence of the world, that's why it is black as a black hole--because it's nothing and everything at once, it's more than a human eye can behold. No blood of spirits from the underworld then? Pity. About opening up to the world to summon it and letting the energies flow through you, talking to the universe through your emotions...it all sounded like bullshit written for a sect, but I still tried it.

I tried and tried and tried, promising myself it'd eventually work, lying sleepless at night, and all I felt was the blanket turning stifling and heavy over my relaxed body. Once, though, I managed to call upon a wind of some sort--or was it a gust that by coincidence entered through the window?--when I was angry from trying in vain some endless hour before dawn. But when I excitedly told Loretto about it, fae once again reminded me that anger was unreliable fuel. What's another fuel, then? If not emotions? Don't emotions impel us throughout our entire lives?

I'm tired of searching without even knowing what I'm searching for.

"I don't feel a thing," I say as a minute ticks away and nothing changes. Even Loretto's hand doesn't move, as though made of wood.

"You know what they say?" Loretto begins after a moment of pensive silence. "About listening not hearing? That's what you're doing, Eli, you're not hearing." Fae fingertips begin rubbing my knee, slowly, rhythmically, startling me again, but I will myself to ignore it. Loretto is clearly doing it on purpose, right? Unbalancing me. No emotions, my ass. Cheater. "Meditation is not about sitting still and doing nothing and wasting time. It's about hearing. Living in the moment. Exploring the world around you with your senses."

"But that books you gave me said to summon--"

"Screw the books. Everyone needs a special approach, remember? We're looking for yours." A pause again, an uncertain one. "Do you feel my hand?"

I swallow as Loretto keeps rubbing my knee over my pants. "Yeah." It tickles, but in an undemanding, soothing way. No real pressure, just...persistence? I wonder if I open my eyes now, what Loretto's expression would look like? Mocking? Serious? Irritated? Indifferent? Am I supposed to stop faer?

"Is my hand warm, Eli?"

"Yes."

"Good. Now imagine your right leg getting warmer under my hand, while your left leg staying cold. Does it work?"

You've gotta be fucking kidding me. It only makes me more nervous. Is this a lesson? "M-hm." Or is this some kind of riddle? A lesson of patience?

I can hear a smile in Loretto's next word. "Excellent. Now imagine that warmth spreading over your whole body, inch by inch. Your right leg, your right thigh, chest, shoulders, another leg, arms, hands...Do you feel it?"

A shiver runs over my body, mirroring and following Loretto's words. The warmth spreads indeed, and my heartbeat fastens; it feels bittersweet, slightly alarming even, as I still don't understand what Loretto is striving to ultimately achieve--and what does my heartbeat have to do with magic? Worse, I involuntarily associate this warmth with Loretto's hand now, and the image of Loretto's graceful fingers running over my right leg, my right thigh, chest, shoulders, another leg, arms, hands...forms in my mind. The heat floods my cheeks.

I push the image aside, reminding myself I'm still simply sitting in the park. "It doesn't change anything if you're the one doing the trick, Loretto."

Loretto laughs. "What trick? I'm doing nothing but speaking. The rest is in your head. I told you magic would believe in what you believed. Now, once you've fully felt and grasped the moment, imagine stepping outside and sensing more that your body. Can you...can you hear the leaves rustling overhead? Smell the freshness of the dewy grass? Feel the coolness of the wind caressing your jaws? If you can feel it, you're part of it, and if you're part of it, you can command it--just like your own body."

As I say nothing, Loretto moves an inch closer, the warmth shifting around me.

"I'm now gonna tell you a secret, Eli," Loretto continues, faer tone suddenly guarded. "A stupid, simple, important secret. A secret all the books you read hide behind complicated metaphors." Another pause, another inch closer. "Most magicians will convince you that you have to bend and break nature in order to make it follow your will, to take power without asking, sacrifice your emotions and turn them into aura--but it's not exactly true. Magic can bow to you as an enemy enslaved, but it also can be your ally. Pushing against your will works, sure, and anger works, and fear...but how much of it can you take before you yourself break? It makes the magician's power limited. But you know what's unlimited? Freedom. Allow yourself to be free--not against your anger and fears but with them."

"But--"

"No. Listen. Don't let your emotions stop you from getting what you really want, don't fight them--accept them, Eli, like you did up that tower. Make peace with your heart. And, once you do, once there's nothing else to distract you, hold on to the serenity that follows. Do you feel it? That's your freedom. Nature loves freedom, nature craves it. Nature knows when you follow your heart, and magic is nature. Befriend your heart, Eli, and next time you want your leaf to do a flip, don't force it but guide it. Guide your heart and your freedom toward your wish, without any conditions and expectations, and you'll be shocked at how much nature has to offer to make it come true. You'll be shocked at how much more you can feel when you don't cling to your worries. Allow yourself to be free, and your power will truly be limitless."

I roll my shoulders, my eyes still closed. Perhaps it is just Loretto's measured, lulling tone to blame, perhaps it's the wind on my neck I've been striving to concentrate on to avoid peeking at Loretto, but at some point, I begin to fall for this tale. It doesn't hurt to give it another try.

But I've never been a serene person, always had too little time to sit still, too much to run for and run from, so I don't even know where to start. Serenity...As in, don't give a shit about being a loser student? Well, alright. For the time being, I can do that. Forget that someone can spy on us right here and now and then tell the whole Tik'al we're hiding in a park's bushes at 6 a.m. like star-crossed lovers or--worse--traitors, conspiring against the empress? Fine, forgotten. Disregard the fact that I'm indeed the crown's traitor, who ended up here only because my family is masterminding a coup? Okaaaay.

For a brief second, it seems to actually help, and listing these problems one by one makes them a little less problematic. I can't solve them all right away, so why fuss right away? And the air caressing my neck feels pretty nice. If only I could be the air. If only I could soar above the trees and spies, play with the branches and leaves and the tips of Loretto's hair. If only I could not think at all, but drift and glide and flutter, up and up and up. No worries...I take a deep breath, focusing on the air filling my lungs, cool and fresh and limitless. Another gust of wind sends goosebumps across my neck, and I picture chasing it.

Curiously, a new gust of wind comes after the previous one swifter than usual. Or am I hallucinating? Answering the wind, the leaves rustle louder overhead, and for a heartbeat, this rustling seems so loud that it feels as though there's nothing else in the world. Nothing. Only the rustling. The leaves, the wind, me. Nature.

Magic.

The thought is calming. Warm. Strong. Limitless. And it feels like I can do anything as long as I am that thought. But then my mind as though stumbles, and another idea takes its place in my head before I can stop myself from thinking it: if I can truly succeed at commanding magic, I fully am a magician now. And if I fully am a magician now, I'll be my family's enemy. I'm a shaman, one of those who my siblings have sworn to destroy. I've been so motivated with the idea of taming magic, I totally neglected the consequences.

Alarm clenches my heart, my concentration failing. The wind hushes, reality sharpening, the serenity melting. I once again feel Loretto's hand over my knee, still warm, still rubbing, but I also still feel the minty blaze of aura somewhere deep down, deeper than my heart even. My family is going to hate me for learning magic, for making a friend like Loretto. For liking Loretto.

My alarm sparks like a grease fire.

The minty tingling beneath my heart rushes toward my hand with the speed of a thunderstorm. The sensation is so severe, it almost hurts. The moment my eyes snap open, the inky aura shadows flicker over my fingers and Loretto jerks away from me as though electrocuted. Faer eyes wide, Loretto makes a jarred move, beginning to rise to faer feet to leap away and defend faerself--or attack me?--I'm not sure. But as I, myself, cringe away in surprise, Loretto stops.

"Why did you do that?" Loretto asks, faer expression dismayed.

I force an apologetic smile upon my lips. "Sorry."

Looking all over me, realizing I haven't done it on purpose and nothing bad is about to follow, Loretto's dismay transforms into a scowl. 'This isn't funny. I wasn't joking when I told you that untrained shamans could get themselves killed. Magic answers to your feelings, but feelings trace your thoughts. What did you think about?"

I shrug. You? Me? Us? My family whose lives I'm about to ruin by enjoying being on their enemy's side? "Everything at once."

There's a moment of silence, but when Loretto speaks again, faer voice is composed. "Well, then don't think of everything at once when you channel." Rising to faer feet, Loretto brushes the leaves off faer robe and then offers me a hand, its fingers lacking rings today and seeming plain. "Let's go. Now we both deserve a break."

I look at Loretto's hand, its warmth still lingering on my knee. "Aren't you afraid I can now hurt you?"

"Me? Gods, no. You'll need much more than magic if you want to hurt me."

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Author's note will be short:

Lo wishes you all Happy Pride Month! Be yourself, be unique, and stay proud!

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