He looks away, clearing his throat. “Now, poke a hole to the depth of your first knuckle, place a seed in the center, and cover it lightly.”
I do as instructed, burying the tiny seed beneath the enriched soil.
“Next, water.” He passes me the small jar. “Water flows, adapts, nurtures. It’s the element of emotion and intuition.”
I sprinkle water over the soil as he guides me through focusing my intention, imagining life flowing from the water into the seed. To my surprise, the water glistens slightly as it absorbs into the soil.
“Did I just?—?”
“A small success,” he confirms. “Now, air.”
He extends his hand, palm up, and a gentle breeze swirls around us, lifting strands of my hair. “Air carries potential—pollen, seeds, ideas. It’s the element of intellect and communication.”
I mimic his gesture, concentrating on feeling the air against my skin. For a second, I feel something respond. It’s the faintest stirring of a breeze, and it definitely didn’t come from outside our enclosed space.
“Good,” Wylder says.
I feel ridiculously proud, even knowing this is probably the magical skill level for a ten-year-old.
“Finally, fire.” He cups his hands together, and a tiny flame appears between his palms. “The transformative power of the sun, of passion and change.”
The flame dances, reflecting in his green eyes, before he extinguishes it with the closing of his hands.
“Your turn.”
I cup my hands as he did, focusing on heat and light. Nothing happens.
“Visualize it,” he coaches. “Feel the warmth building between your palms.”
I close my eyes, concentrating harder. A tingling sensation spreads through my fingers, and when I peek, there’s the faintest reddish glow between my palms.
“I did it!” The glow immediately vanishes with my excitement.
“Controlled focus,” Wylder reminds me, but there’s approval in his voice.
“Wait, what about spirit?” I ask. “Isn’t spirit the fifth point of the pentacle?”
His expression grows serious. “Yes, but we’re not working with that yet. Spirit is your natural affinity, and it’s in flux at the moment. I want you to have some understanding of control before we delve into spirit work.”
“Is that why my vision is weird, and I feel all jittery?”
“Partly.” He gestures to my iPad. “Let’s move on. Pull that out.”
I place the tablet on the table between us.
“One of the most dangerous things you’ll face is losing control as your powers awaken,” he explains, taking the stylus. “This is a simple sigil taught to young witches for centering.”
He draws a fluid symbol on the screen. Circles and lines flow into each other in a pattern that somehow feels calming simply to look at.
“It’s an intricate symbol and takes practice. Drawing it will help focus your intention and ground excess energy.” He hands me the stylus. “Now you try.”
I trace the pattern carefully, and as I complete the last line, I feel a subtle shift. It’s like my thoughts are organizing themselves. “That’s weird. A good kind of weird.”
“Now try to draw it without the template.”
I draw the sigil again, focusing on the meaning behind each stroke. When I finish, the calming effect is stronger.
“Well done,” Wylder says. “Let’s try one more.” He demonstrates another symbol, explaining that it helps with emotional balance.
