Chapter 2
A crucial art to master, that’s what wandless magic is. One should not rely on a wand. A wand is a conduit, it is not the magic itself. All you need is focus. Just focus… I have to put aside my issues. I have to put aside the violations of my body that I, for some reason, consented to. I didn’t like it, but it made them happy.
Don’t think about that, think about the feel of the grass, the smell of the flora, the sound of the music encompassing me. Think about the sensation of the magic in my veins, in my soul, in my very being. Concentrate. My wand is back in the castle, I’m in the forest, I can’t falter now.
With each breath, with each beat of my heart, with every sound from my earbuds, I become more aware. Aware of the feeling of the blood in my veins, aware of the way the leaves flutter in the wind, aware of myself and my surroundings. I open my eyes and roll up my sleeve, looking at where I had previously inflicted upon myself.
“Vulnera sanentur,” I say slowly, tracing my fingertips over the cuts.
The cuts healed as I repeated the spell. I do my best to remain neutral. The mardest part of wandless magic is keeping your emotions under control. If you let anger or sadness, or even happiness, disrupt your concentration, you could end up making a significant error. If you’re trying to heal a wound but you let anger disrupt your thought process you could end up making the wound worse. I did that once, when I was first practicing it. I let my mind wander, and I let myself grow angry, angry at my father and angry at myself. That day I ended up singeing myself. I was lucky that Madam Pomfrey didn’t press me on how I ended up with burns on my hands. I suppose it’s not uncommon to be injured by a spell gone wrong, but it’s still a pain in the ass to burn your palms so much that it hurts to hold your wand.
I see something from the corner of my eye and I stand up in an instant, looking around for a moment, trying to stay calm. I take out my earbuds and my gaze finally lands on a young centaur stallion.
“Firenze!” I call, “Get your ass over here!” My tone carries a very obvious joy.
At first, Firenze was startled by the sudden sound, drawing his bow before realising it’s me. He then trots over.
“Kyrvin, you startled me.”
“Sorry. Are you on edge or something? You’re not usually this jumpy.”
“A member of my colony was killed. It wasn’t foreseen by any of us, not even bane. It is a tragic loss, but we must be careful. It’s not safe here righ now, not even for centaurs. A human like you sould not be here. You should get back to the castle. Come, I will walk with you,” Firenze says.
“Oh. OH. Yeah, if it’s got you startled then I definitely shoudln’t be here. I don’t have my wand on me either. If I may ask, what killed the member of your colony?” I say as I begin to walk with him towards the castle.
This isn’t the first time I’ve been in the forest, and not the first time I’ve seen Firenze. Firenze has been helpful when it comes to understanding my dreams and differentiating the nightmares from prophetic dreams.
“We don’t know. We found his body maimed in the deeper parts of the forest. Whatever it was didn’t consume him, though, meaning it killed for sport. Hunting for survival is one thing, but killing just to kill is a despicable act. It burdens the soul.”
“Some creatures are truly evil. It pains me that most of those evil creatures are humans. I wouldn’t be surprised if it were a witch or wizard that killed the poor guy. Most people fear centaurs and some spells… they can do some serious harm.”
“It is possible, but unlikely. Wizard kind don’t typically attack centaurs like that.”
“I wouldn’t put that past my family. Father, grandfather, and cousin are all lunatics that take pleasure from causing harm to anything they dislike.”
“What a shame. I don’t see any of that violent nature in you. It’s a wonder how someone as compassionate as you could sprout from people like that.”
“Goes to show that genetics aren’t everything.”