Era wanted to do magic.
He was sure of it, more sure of that than he was of anything right then. He knew very little of how this strange world and all its many, many people worked, and to be able to make that world more his own was a desire he hungered for, he longed for.
I can’t ask Gabriel for help. He’s done far too much for me already, and I can’t bother him with such a selfish whim. Era recalled Gabriel’s downcast face when he had been talking about losing his talent for spellcraft. And it doesn’t seem like a subject he much wants to talk about.
So Era daydreamed often, seeing himself in his mind’s eye as a powerful sorcerer with the world at his fingertips. He imagined how he thought he would react upon casting his first spell, and, when that got boring, Gabriel’s reaction. He would be mad, in a shocked way, he thought, at least at first. He daydreamt of soaring through the sky on invisible wings, of rearranging clouds to make them perform for people below, and of producing a delicious cake out of nowhere to give to a beggar in the town. And this only made the longing worse.
Envy is such a miserable emotion, he decided.
“Gabriel, would you mind if I went for a walk?”
Gabriel glanced over his book at Era. “Don’t see why not. Just try not to get lost, alright?”
Era grinned. “Don’t worry, I won’t. I’ll follow the path.”
“Good.” He looked back down and turned a page. “And get back before dark. You don’t want to run into any bad company.”
“Alright.”
He looked back over as Era opened the door. “What brought this on, by the way?”
Era shrugged. “I went walking every day when I was still in Death’s realm. I suppose I miss it a little.”
“I know what you mean. Be careful out there.”
With a smile and a nod, he trotted out the door, shutting it gently behind him. A refreshing wind tugged at his robes as it swirled autumn leaves around his ankles. I wonder what they’ll look like in spring? he thought. Gabriel said the leaves change color. I can’t wait to see that.
He followed the path down the field, smiling as the gust teased his hair and lifted his spirits. He listened to the sounds of the world: the brushing of leaves against each other, the caws of birds in flight, the last of the summer insects crying their last. “Maybe this is my world,” he thought aloud. “I already feel like a part of it.”
He took the path that branched through the woods so that he might soak in the beauty he felt around him. The wind made everything around him feel breathtakingly alive. He found it a refreshing change from the dark halls of Death’s palace, where the only things that ever moved were the flickers of the flames; even then, they had to be coaxed into movement.
I’d still like to go back, he thought, but not if I can’t see things like this anymore.
An hour later, the sun was starting to set. Unaware of the shortening of days that autumn brought with it, Era was surprised to find the sky darkening and the setting sun highlighting the edges of dark clouds. Time to go back, I suppose. He took one final look down the tree-lined path he was on before pivoting around and heading back the way he came.
The wind was still high, and Era was pleasantly surprised to see the clouds moving above him; so entranced was he by the sight of them that he didn’t see a particularly sharp rock in his path, nor his foot coming down upon it.
He yelped as he felt a sudden stinging in the side of his right foot. Crouching instinctively, he grabbed his boot and squeezed, riding out the terrible pain he felt with gritted teeth and shortened breaths. After many moments, he slowly opened his eyes to survey the damage.
There was a long gash through his boot; however, the damage done to his foot was relatively light – there was a long cut along his foot, but it hurt worse than it looked. Era hobbled over to a large rock nearby and sat upon it, bracing his leg so he could remove his boot.
I hope Gabriel doesn’t get mad at me for tearing this, he thought, grabbing the end of his robe and ripping a long piece off of the end. He wound it securely around the middle of his foot, staunching the flow of blood. The wound still ached slightly, but it faded quickly as he rested.
Era looked back up to the sky, finding himself lost in the currents of clouds above. Occasionally a leaf would flutter by above, or a flock of birds; the hush of the wind in the trees was deafening. He shut his eyes, reliving his flying fantasy in his mind. He felt the wind beneath him, saw himself soaring in the sky, brushing the wings of a nearby bird…
He noted, in a far-off corner of his mind, that he was instinctively reaching out for something with an invisible hand. On a different level, he grasped at something he couldn’t quite reach, something that would tease him with a small taste of its nature and promptly make him forget the memory. Come back, he pleaded, please.
He sensed a shifting in his perception, and he felt as though his entire body was buzzing. The top of his head felt as though it had burst open and that magnificent energy poured forth from it. Some long-forgotten habit reminded him to sit up straight and let the energy run its course; he felt as though a river ran down his spine. His eyes, though still closed, perceived colors he had never imagined existed, even after falling into the world of color he had left Death for. Spiraling patterns twisted across his vision, patterns so complex he found himself hopelessly lost within them.
This is… magic.
Excitement flooded him, mingling with the strange outside power and lighting his soul ablaze. Era felt as if he were about to burst, about to rip apart from the inside, and the thought invigorated him further. He believed he could do anything right there and then, that he could move the sun or dance on the moon. Amidst the turmoil and overpowering joy that saturated his mind, he again pictured himself flying, felt the wind carrying him upwards. For a moment, he felt lighter than air.
And then he realized he could no longer feel the rock beneath him.
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