Page 26 of Cerulean Truth
“What kind of position?” I asked, intrigued, secretly relieved the subject had shifted onto him.
Again, as if he could read my mind, he asked narrowing his eyes, “Are you deflecting again?”
I widened my eyes while shaking my head innocently and he snorted.
“As I was saying, don’t worry about your age, you’ll have enough time to further your education. Trust me, the age you’re found in the Human World doesn’t mean shit.”
A significant gap in my understanding remained, so I ventured another question. "I apologize for my ignorance, but how do you 'find’ magi? Is there some sort of tracking device or method involved?" The notion sent a chill down my spine.
“Kind of,” he replied, “Whenever we translate, it leaves a trace, sort of like humans leaving DNA at a crime scene. We use a magical object, called the LiaPrism, a crystal that identifies and locates a person through their translation but only in the Human World. In our world the translation simply blends in with the energy, so it’s never traceable there. Out here it’s visible because the energy you project is not native to this world. So yes, here we can track you and identify you. It usually comes out at the first sight of any emotion and because the little brats are known to have tantrums, we usually spot them when they’re still very young.”
I considered this. “So how come you didn’t find me until now?” I asked a little confused. “I’ve had my share of tantrums.”
He shot me half a smile. “Of that, I have no doubt.”
I stuck out my tongue at him in response, thus proving him right.
“So why then?” I pressed.
He hesitated.
“Because Emma, for reasons unknown, your translation doesn’t leave any trace in the Human World. It’s visible though,so I don’t really know what that means. I have gone over this a trillion times since Stephen told me about you and I have no clue how that’s possible. If it hadn’t been Stephen himself who’d seen you project, I wouldn’t even believe you had any powers at all.”
“But,” he continued, “Stephen did see your haze when you jumped over the car so there’s no doubt. Your translation in the Human World is visible, luckily only by magi, but untraceable. It’s like you’re bleeding without leaving DNA. And tonight confirmed what you already thought: you translate your fears of dying or at least when you feel very threatened, and for some reason our world is incapable of tracking it.”
“A haze?” I asked.
He nodded.
“Yeah, it’s a color which emerges from your energy. Yours is apparently dark red, which indicates a great deal of very old and raw power. But as I said, we can only see it here in the Human World, we can’t see the haze in our world except for educational purposes, though I’m starting to wonder if yours might be the exception to that too.”
I contemplated this for a moment, recollecting the first time I had met Stephen and the bright white haze I thought I’d seen. So, he was "translating" or "projecting"—I still wasn't clear on the correct terminology—when we first met each other.
“What color is yours?” I asked, curious to learn more about him.
James stared at me for a moment before replying, “Cerulean.”
I raised an eyebrow. “Blue?”
His eyes narrowed. “Cerulean.”
All right, fancy blue.“Isn’t that just an overcomplicated way of saying blue?” I pressed, only half-kidding.
His jaw tightened, and I could practically feel the restraint it took him not to roll his eyes.
I cleared my throat. “Does that color, I don’t know, have some grand significance?”
“Yes,” he answered curtly. I waited, but no elaboration followed.
“Ah. Well, thank you for that thrilling insight,” I said, not even trying to hide my sarcasm.
Again, no reply. Just the quiet satisfaction of a man who clearly enjoyed keeping his secrets.
“Why do I only translate when I feel threatened?” I changed the subject. “Why not any other emotion?”
“I don’t know,” he responded truthfully. “I’m not even sure you don’t. As we can’t trace it here, there’s no definitive way of knowing. Maybe you have translated other emotions without realizing it. I’m not sure Emma, but these questions are why you have to come in now.”
I came to a halt and turned to him slowly. He regarded me with raised eyebrows, conveying a questioning expression.
