Page 39 of The Deathless One
Opening her mouth, she blurted out the first thing that she could think of. “Why do you like magic so much?”
Sybil blinked. “Because it gives me power.”
“I had power as a princess. It wasn’t all that great.” She touched a hand to her neck. “It got me killed.”
“We’re women. We all need whatever power we can eke out of this universe.”
Power had gotten Jessamine nothing in her life, but the more she thought about it, the more she wondered if she’d ever really had any to begin with. “I guess I don’t know what you mean.”
“How many women have you met who are convinced they’re on the brink of madness? They’ve been told countless times to bury everything they are. Their emotions. Their hopes and dreams. Their anger. All of it shoved so deep down that they cannot even think or breathe through the pain of hiding it. But not us. Not a witch. A witch is everything they tell us not to be. We are chaos and blood. Wetness and rage. Howling at the moon that we will not be silenced or forgotten. We are everything that they fear and covet.”
With every word, Jessamine felt something unlock inside of her. She stared down at her plate, realizing there were chains wrapped around her from generations of locks that had long ago lost their keys. Just like knowing there was a particular way she was allowed to eat. Just like not knowing what she wanted to wear.
And being uncomfortable sitting at a table with someone she wanted to call a friend, because she didn’t know how to talk to someone who wasn’t of the same station.
“You’re right,” she whispered. “I just don’t know how to be what everyone wants me to be.”
“Then don’t.” Sybil pushed herself away from the island, casting a sad smile in her direction before she gathered up the kitten in her arms. “Be who you want to be, Lady Jessamine. Even if that takes a lifetime to figure out. I’ll put the little one to bed in your room. It’s been wreaking havoc on the house all day. By the way, do you have any plans to name it?”
“Nyx,” Jessamine said, something deep inside of her nearly screaming the name. “Her name is Nyx.”
“Cast the damn spell, Jessamine,” he snarled. He’d been gathering his magic to leave his realm for longer, and teaching her shouldn’t have taken so much effort. Yet here he was, trying to teach her without physically being around her. And failing.
Sybil’s teachings were getting her nowhere. She could barely cast a single spell, and he’d finally decided to take matters into his own hands. If the witch couldn’t teach her, then Jessamine needed a patron to push her over the edge.
“I can’t. It’s not working, and we both know why. I’m not a witch! I can follow the spells that are formulas, the ones that literally anyone could do. But the ones that come from actual magic? You know I can’t do them.”
“You’re not trying hard enough.”
“I’m trying plenty hard! Every time I try to do it, my mind just…” She lifted a shaking hand to run it over her mouth, before gently tipping the bowl in front of her. The liquid spilled out, certainly ruining the spell now. “You’re expecting the impossible.”
“Focus.” He paced in his realm, watching her through a mirror she’d placed on the altar. “Magic is not easy, Jessamine. It shouldn’t come to you naturally. It’s work and dedication and hours of pain.”
“I’ve been doing this for hours and I am tired.”
“Not tired enough,” he snapped.
Maybe he was pushing her too hard. She had been working on this for the better part of a day, but it was the most basic of spells! She shouldbe able to light a fire, and they’d tried every other easy spell he could think of. This one was a ridiculously simple spell meant to spin her mind in the right direction for the magic to take flight. Even the least talented of witches could cast it.
He tried to ease his voice a little, so maybe it wouldn’t sound like a whip cracking above her head. “This is a very easy spell, Jessamine. You should be able to do this.”
“I have told you time and time again, I am not a witch.”
“Youarea witch,” he ground through his teeth. “Just not a very good one.”
She stiffened, gave him a scathing glare, before snapping back, “Then find yourself a better one.”
“Jessamine—”
She didn’t stop to listen to him. If anything, she stomped out of the room faster before slamming the door so hard the mirror rocked back and slipped onto the floor.
Bracing himself on the mirror’s frame, he bared his teeth in frustration. Why did she have to be so difficult? He was teaching her magic, just as he’d promised. This was the bare minimum for any witch.
He’d trained countless witches. Hundreds of them, all of whom had grown in power every day under his guidance. He had never trained a witch who did not become a powerful creature, who then sacrificed him for even more influence. It was his place in their world. He taught them, they killed him, the cycle continued.
Why did she have to break the mold?
She questioned herself too much. She had no confidence in the magic that brewed inside her. Every ounce of her ability to create magic was squandered because some inner voice in her head said she wasn’t good enough.
