“Good,” he said. “Now, I want you to make them disappear and do it again, but this time, pay attention to how fast your command manifests.”
Nodding, I dismissed the embers and snapped my fingers again, this time paying attention as requested.
“You can dismiss your magic.” I did as he asked before he continued. “Now, watch very carefully for the speed at which the fire I’m about to conjure manifests.”
I leaned in a little closer, focusing intently just above his hand where I knew the flame would appear. Artton flicked his wrist so his palm was facing up, and my heart began to race.
Eyes darting to his, I said, “There’s a… delay. It was only by a heartbeat, maybe two. But it’s not instantaneous like mine.”
He smiled down at me, the fire now gone. “Yes. Andthatknowledge is everything.”
“Wait. What?”
“Who created the embers just now?” he asked.
“Umm… I did,” I said, the statement more of a question.
“Correct. And who created the flame?”
Brows pulling together, I said, “You.”
He shook his head. “No. Iconjuredthe fire. Youcreatedthe embers.That’sthe difference. You’re the embodiment of arcane magic, which is raw power and the source of all things, which means youcancreate. This is why you are so rare, Nyleeria. Fae do not create; we conjure by pulling forth what already exists, which is why we are at the mercy of the Mother for our powers. Believing that we create the four elements is the greatest fallacy of our kind. That ignorance is what led the seasonal courts to lose access to their arcane magic and ultimately wage war against the Celestial Court. And it’s why you—the spark—were protected from those that believed they deserved the power to create.”
My brain absorbed the deluge of information like the moss soaks in the rain, and for the first time in a long time, answers outpaced questions, not that it meant I didn’t have any, because I had a lot. Focusing on the piece that now made the most sense, I said, “That’s why I can create sparks, but not fire like you.”
He nodded. “It’s also why you got so sick the first time you used it as a human, because you technically created the wind instead of conjuring it, throwing nature out of balance—with you paying the price.”
“All right,” I said, energized by this new understanding, “so, to conjure water, I what… essentially ask the river over there to valen itself over here?”
Artton chuckled and rubbed his hand across the faint bristle of facial hair. “Actually, I’d never,ever,explain it that way, but… yes. It’s almost exactly like that.”
“But what about fire? It’s not like there’s fire around for you to ask to join the party,” I questioned, turning to look in each direction for something I’d missed.
“You’re right, there isn’t. Now here’s where it gets interesting, and why my education was paramount. There’s a placard above the main atrium of the boarding school that’s written in an ancient dialect, which roughly translates to:Nothing stirs—no beast, no root, no soul, no magic—without the four that bind us all.At the heart of it, itmeans there’s nothing that exists on Lumnara that doesn’t possess all four elements.”
Crossing my arms, I cocked a brow. “Artton, correct me if I’m wrong, but are you really trying to convince me that there’s fire in water—or in a rock, for that matter—because Ihighlydoubt that’s true.”
“Ah, now this is where it gets fun,” he said, his contained excitement giving him an almost youthful look about him, and I had to admit, it was contagious. “Tell me, how do you create fire?”
“Small pieces of dry wood. Paper, if I’m lucky. And a flint,” I said without hesitation.
“And do you just throw the small pieces of wood in a pile?”
“Of course not.”
“Why?” he challenged.
“Because it—” I paused, starting to understand what he was trying to explain. “Because it needs oxygen.”
“Exactly. Now, we’ve established that fire needs the following elements to exist;earthin the form of wood,firein the form of heat from a flint, andairin the form of oxygen. Now, what you probably don’t know is that oxygen is formed by two components. Carbon, which is derived from earth, and the base structure of water—which means fire would not exist if any one of the elements were missing, water included.”
“Whoa. That’s actually really cool.”
“Agreed.”
Taking a moment, I looked around us through this new lens, cataloging everything into the four elemental categories. Water, air, and earth were plentiful… but fire was still the more difficult one to understand. Reaching down, I picked up a rock, its sun-kissed warmth evident. Eyes widening, my focus quickly darted about, scanning for anything that held onto heat; then, by the river, I saw large slabs of onyx, which I knew would be hot to the touch, even with the clouds floating overhead.
“The heat from the rocks,” I said. “That’s yourflint.”
