Magical Arts Academy 13: Powers Unleashed Read online

  Copyright 2019 Lucía Ashta.

  All rights reserved.

  Published by Awaken to Peace Press.

  This book is a work of fiction.

  Cover design by Mirela Barbu.

  Edited by Elsa Crites.

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  About Powers Unleashed

  The Dark Sorcerer intends to use me as bait to lure my friends out of hiding. So that he can defeat us all.

  Yeah, that plan’s not going to work. I’m finished allowing him to wield power he doesn’t respect and he hasn’t earned.

  Besides, a great magic brews inside me… enough to finally win this fight and prevent his plans to deliver chaos and bloodshed to the world.

  The Sorcerer is about to rue the day he decided to mess with me. His reign of terror ends now.

  For my readers,

  thank you for taking this magical journey with me.

  You’re the best!

  We are only as powerful as we believe is possible.

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Epilogue

  Magic Awakens - Book 1

  Make a difference

  Acknowledgments

  Read more by Lucía Ashta

  About the author

  Chapter 1

  Perhaps it was finally a good thing that my magical studies had been interrupted so many times that they’d barely begun, at least in a classroom setting, anyway. I’d learned plenty since joining the Academy, and nearly nothing I’d expected to learn.

  I hadn’t sat through a class where one of our instructors would tell us that, to do proper magic, I should expect to study for at least four years, and even then I’d likely only be able to do the more basic spells. Advanced magic might take decades, a lifetime even.

  I hadn’t heard any of those cautions, nor had I had much opportunity to ponder why Mordecai’s runes had selected Nando and not me, making me initially seem like a bit of an afterthought.

  What I’d most absorbed were Arianne’s teachings. The lady of the Acquaine Estate was mesmerizing, mostly because of her grace and underlying power. I’d registered it when she told me that magic only takes place if we believe it will. I’d accepted the fact when she’d told me that the imagination is powerful and as much a center of magic as anything else.

  Belief was essentially a shortcut to years of learning. And profound faith was the source of power greater even than magic. The reverse was also true, and one was weak when one accepted it.

  My abilities had begun to manifest before I’d had the opportunity to properly question them.

  Right then, I believed I was strong. And I already knew my brother was.

  I was so confident that I could take down Maurisse that there was little chance of failure. In the reality I was creating, men like Maurisse didn’t exist, and they certainly didn’t have the power to subject humanity to their lunacy.

  I kept my eyes firmly shut. Although it was dark, and I couldn’t make out anything around us, my eyes strained to see.

  Nothing about this process was to involve strain. It turns out that magic is actually about ease. Who would’ve figured?

  I focused on my breathing, slowing my breaths down, calming myself so that when I was fully ready, everything about my body would line up with the energy brewing in my center.

  “What are you going to do, Isa?” Nando asked, sounding nervous. “I know you told me not to interrupt, but I need to understand before you do... whatever you’re going to do.”

  I forced myself not to react that he’d interrupted me when I’d asked him not to. He was only trying to help. I said, “I’m going to gather enough magic to blast Maurisse when he next comes down here.”

  “Hmm. I see.”

  “You see?” I raised my eyebrows at him.

  “Yes, I see that once you’ve gathered your... magic, I need to find a way to get him down here. We can’t just wait him out. You heard when he said he didn’t expect the others to come rescue us until tomorrow. What if he stays up there till then? It’s not like we’re his preferred company, or like he’ll be worried about whether we have water and food.”

  “I didn’t think of that.”

  “Your power might peter out before he gets down here.”

  “You’re right.” I huffed. When he didn’t say anything, I added, “What, no ‘of course I’m right?’ No, ‘I’m always right?’”

  “Sorry, Isa. I guess I’m just not in the mood to play.”

  “No, I guess you wouldn’t be. How’s your head?”

  “My head will be just fine once you take care of the sorcerer who won’t leave us alone.”

  “Right. So how do we get Maurisse here when I’m ready for him?”

  “Leave that to me. All you have to do is give me some kind of sign that it’s time, and I’ll figure something out.”

  I nodded into the darkness, mostly to bolster myself. Because, despite my best efforts not to do it, I’d just thought of something. If Nando managed to get Maurisse down here and my magic failed somehow, then not only would he be stuffed in here with us again, but he’d be aware that I had unusual magic. My attempts would likely enrage him and cause him to react. And I couldn’t forget Sinter, the sniveling sorcerer who’d do anything to please his superiors.

  So, I couldn’t fail. I wouldn’t. And before I continued down that most unhelpful path, I told Nando, “We’ve got this. You get them down here, and I’ll take care of the rest.” Talking the talk was half the battle, right? Or maybe it was just a foolish saying.... But there was no better option. We couldn’t very well wait until our friends walked straight into the madman’s trap, could we?

  “Good plan,” Nando said, and bless him, whether he believed it or not, he trusted me, and he was going to give this his all.

  I went to start, then stopped. “Nando?” I whispered.

  “Yeah?”

  “Te amo. You know that, right?”

  “Of course I know you love me, what’s not to love?” But his jest was for my benefit only. When he spoke next, his words were heavy with foreboding. “Yo también te amo. You’re the best sister I could have ever hoped for.”

  “Right back at you. You’re the best.”

  “Well, don’t go talking like this is the end, Isa. It can’t be. It’s not. It’s just the beginning.”

  Again I nodded into the darkness, working to hold on to the courage I’d gathered. He was right. We shouldn’t say our goodbyes. Still.... “Sir Lancelot, I love you too,” I said, not realizing that’s how I felt about the owl until I said the words. Somewhere along the long string of tragic events, sprinkled with some joys, Sir Lancelot had fully endeared himself to me.

  “Oh, my, uh, Lady Isadora.” The owl was flustered, and he rarely lost his composure. “I’m so incredibly grateful to you for the sentiment. No one has told me they love me since my mother died many centuries ago. I was the light of her life, and once she was gone, well, there was no one to take her place. I, uh”—he cleared his throat—“love you too.” His statement trailed off in a weak squeak, and he began coughing immediately after.

  Saying the words had been difficult for him, and I hoped I was right, and that Nando was too, and that we’d have the opportunity to show the owl th
at love is real, and that he deserved it.

  “What’s your signal to me going to be?” Nando asked, pulling me back to the urgency of our situation.

  “I have no idea what I’ll be capable of doing when the time comes. I’m going in deep. I think you’ll recognize it for what it is when you see it.”

  “All right.” But Nando didn’t sound reassured. Heck, neither was I, but that wasn’t the point anymore.

  “Here I go,” I said, mostly to pep myself up again.

  I can do this. I for sure can do this. I will do this. With a string of encouragements cycling through my mind, I closed my eyes for the last time before it was all over.

  I pulled in deep breaths capable of fueling the dormant parts of me. I synched the rhythm of my breath to that of my heart. I silenced the worried thoughts that kept trying to spark to life in my mind, and let go of the images of our enemy walking the floor above us, or the brother and owl I wished to protect.

  I pushed away what might happen if my magic were to fail, or if I never really found it at all. I shoved thoughts of our friends arriving when I was in the middle of... whatever I was going to do, and my magic turning on them.

  I resolved everything into simple parts: Breathe in, then out. In and out. Trust in myself, in that part of me that understood what to do beyond the distraction of thought. Believe that magic is real and that I can wield it.

  Believe that when your intentions are pure, the world lines up to support you.

  I can do this. I’m doing this.

  I am ready.

  Chapter 2

  So quickly that I hardly registered what was happening, the magic sprang to life inside me.

  I all but forgot where and who I was, and what I was supposed to be doing. But I didn’t forget, not entirely. I held onto my mission and the righteousness that fueled it.

  My body no longer felt divided into parts. I wasn’t a body with appendages, with organs pumping furiously to sustain life, with thoughts, aspirations, and emotions.

  I was one boiling mass of magic. My power burned inside me, in my center. Like smelted iron, it glowed an ember orange. Red, yellow, and every color in between the spectrum, sparked within. I could see it within my vision, the one that looked only inside.

  As I imagined a lava pit might be, the magic bubbled, popped, and ignited. It was both the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen, and the most frightening.

  This had been inside me all along. Every time I’d believed myself ordinary, this fire had raged, waiting for me to find it. Every time I’d believed myself incapable of accomplishing something, the power within had simmered, proof that whether we believed we could or couldn’t, we were always right.

  All I’d had to do was dip into it, knowing fully it was there, and it had responded as rapidly as an eager puppy seeking attention, tail wagging and sloppy puppy grins.

  All along I’d been a witch. Based on what I was sensing now, an extraordinary witch, one fully capable of bringing the duke’s reign of terror to an end all on her own.

  Maurisse had no idea what I was capable of. As I took my first glimpses of all that I contained, I was certain I must be in shock, because I wasn’t experiencing the obvious emotions. There was no confusion or enthusiasm. There was certainly no disbelief.

  There was the fire of the purest magic, burning hot. It was a light so bright that I was certain it wasn’t meant for the eyes to see. No, I looked at it with my mind’s eye, the only one capable of processing such power.

  I already felt ready to take on Maurisse. Heck, like this, I was ready to take on the world!

  But I wasn’t sure how to get the magic from inside me... outside me. The magic seemed to be a part of me, not of anyone else. It didn’t feel as if it wanted to leave me. So how was I to direct it at Maurisse? And how did I make sure that I wasn’t sharing my power with him, but using it as a weapon?

  Perhaps these were things I should have asked Sir Lancelot, who seemed to know most things. It was unlikely that he’d encountered a witch like me before, but he might have ideas.

  Sir Lancelot! I hurried to move the owl from my hands to the floor behind me, where I hoped he’d be safe. I lowered him gingerly, but didn’t open my eyes to check on him. It was too late for that.

  There was no stopping now. I didn’t want to stop. I wanted to spend all my time here, with my power, which rose to greet me. It enveloped me like the warmest blanket in the coldest storm.

  I was home with my magic.

  But I had to find the way to direct it.

  Tentatively, I pulled on my mind’s eye and stretched tentacles from its ends. Like taffy, I pulled and molded until I had invisible fingers to do the work my physical body wasn’t able to.

  Good. I flexed my taffy fingers and discovered that I could direct them just as I would my actual hands. This is going to work.

  Ordinarily, I might have hesitated or stopped to think things through. But not now. Here, in this space, everything was moving fast, so fast that my mind couldn’t really keep up. So quickly that I stayed ahead of the doubt and the nagging thoughts, which would suggest all the ways I could fail.

  I stretched my tentacles until they reached my core, that hot center deep within the well of my abdomen, which roared like I imagined a dragon or firedrake’s fire did. My etheric fingers dove into the lava pit. Once there, I wanted them to remain in this swell of reassurance, the one that guaranteed comfort and well-being.

  I raked my fingers through the fire, and it was akin to running my physical fingers through warm sand on a beach.

  My heart was happy, soothed. All impressions of a sneering, wicked sorcerer, vanished.

  But my power wasn’t entirely content just to be. It wanted more. It’d waited for me for so long, it was ready to rise to the challenge of defeating the darkness that inhabited Maurisse.

  The fire began to bubble, edging upward, impatient, and I felt I had no choice but to respond. I was one with the power. It burned inside me at all times, even when I didn’t realize it. It was an intrinsic part of me.

  The fire level swelled, rising, wanting out.

  So I merged my tentacle fingers into scoops, and gathered the fire in each palm.

  I am ready.

  Fear sprang to life so quickly that I didn’t have the chance to stop it before it rushed across my being in a frenzied wave. But I didn’t pause to listen to its slithering intimidation. I didn’t allow it to scream, No, you aren’t ready! You can’t be. This is all happening too fast. You aren’t prepared for this.

  If anything, it hadn’t happened quickly enough. After a lifetime of neglect, nothing it did was too rapid.

  The fire pooled in my invisible palms when I allowed myself to move on instinct alone.

  I pushed the fire from my etheric palms, through my chest, down my arms, and into my actual hands.

  Through closed eyes, I could see the fire sparking and spitting and bubbling in my now outstretched palms, but my power didn’t singe my flesh. As if I were covered in dragon scales, I was comfortable with the fire that was a part of me.

  I siphoned more of my power from my core, through the walls of my body, and down my arms. It waited for me to use what I held in my hands. Once I did, it’d replenish in a steady stream until I stopped it.

  Whether or not Nando or Sir Lancelot could actually see my magic as the visible force I did, I wasn’t sure. I was supposed to give my brother the signal.

  But when I went to shape my mouth to form words, I couldn’t. I was in a place beyond words, where things didn’t operate in obeisance of normal rules.

  So I did the only thing that felt natural in that moment. I opened my mind and allowed a single sentence to pulse through it. “I’m ready.”

  I released the words while I held the image of Nando in my mind’s eye. Hear my words, I projected in that place beyond thought.

  And then I waited, enjoying the time I had to share with my fire. For soon, the wait would be over... and my magic would get to play.<
br />
  Chapter 3

  I was certain Nando received my message before I heard him rise from the floor next to me. From this space I occupied, deep within myself, and through that deep connection better able to feel the workings of the world and of magic, I knew that my intentions accomplished what they set out to achieve.

  Things were so... easy. Had I only realized sooner that magic was as simple as believing and picturing it done, this war with the Sorcerers for Magical Supremacy might have turned out very differently.

  As it was, the war was about to descend upon us in this dark dungeon space. However Nando had figured to get Maurisse down here, he was surely about to put his plan into action.

  I looked to myself as if I were about to pop. Though I trusted my magic and knew it would never hurt me, Nando might not realize that.

  Everything outside of me slowed into a series of images, of impressions, as if my mind were distilling the happenings around me into their most important parts.

  Nando raced up the stairs and pounded against the metal-reinforced door with both fists. He shouted words I couldn’t distinguish. Then two sets of footsteps ran across the floor above us. More shouts, more loud pounding.

  A flash of magic shone, bright enough to filter through the crack beneath the door, and Nando retreated down the steps at a run. A second later, the door was flung open, and Maurisse, with Sinter on his heels, took the steps carefully, one at a time, until they reached the floor and Maurisse began yelling.