Finally, after some creative thinking and a bit of sensory investigation, I found a connection to water in the tiniest way possible. Bits of dew lingered on the grass in the early morning haze.
I gently called the individual droplets toward me using my tendrils of magic that I’d grown so comfortable using over the last few weeks. Using for tiny things, minuscule tasks, like balancing a pebble in the air. But still, there was a comfort now with my powers that hadn’t existed before. I used that magic to draw droplets of dew toward my palm and deposit them there.I gathered enough until I had a sizable little pool cupped in my hand.
Still holding the delicate water, I raised the rock into the air again using another tendril of magic. I balanced the rock, feeling a bit wobbly, like I was standing on one leg. Then I coaxed the droplets of dew together until they formed a marble-sized bead in my palm.
“I did it!” The second I spoke, I lost focus. The rock plummeted; the water slipped through my fingers.
“You failed,” Seer Goddard informed me. “Try it again.”
I sighed, but even though I was frustrated at what my instructor called a failure, I was exhilarated. I’d done something I’d thought impossible. I’d levitated a rock and formed a ball of water from dew. Seer Goddard might see that as a letdown, but I saw it as massively promising.
I reinstated my concentration, dragging the rock to its position in midair before me. I gathered more dew into my palm. This time, as I created a cluster of water, I managed to keep both it and the rock afloat in the air.
“Now wrap the water around the rock,” Seer Goddard said. “So the water completely encases the earth.”
I slowly, carefully, moved the rock and the spinning ball of water toward one another. When they were millimeters apart, I pushed the rock into the water. The stone parted the movement of the water like someone moving through a beaded curtain. Then the rock slipped fully inside, and the water resumed its rotation around it. The stone was now fully secured inside its shimmering globe.
“Now add air.”
As my eyes flew open at the next instruction, I gave Seer Goddard an incredulous look, and both elements dropped. A cool splash hit my legs as the water slid into the earth beneath me.
“Air? I don’t even understand air,” I said. “I’ve been breathing for days, but nothing has come of it.”
“If that’s all you’ve done, you’ve wasted your time.”
“You told me to sit here and breathe,” I said. “I was just following your instructions.”
“Are you ready to begin or would you prefer to keep making excuses?”
“I’ve been trying! But you have to understand, I am able to isolate earth and water. They’re solid. When it comes to air, the only thing I’ve accomplished so far is breathing which, to be honest, most people have mastered.”
“Air is no different to you than earth or water, fundamentally. You can feel it the same way, once you learn how.”
“I beg to differ. It’s not solid. When I reach for it, it’s elusive.”
“That’s because air doesn’t want to be trapped, restrained. Is that any surprise to you, based on the very nature of it? You must work for it.” Seer Goddard folded his arms. “Everything is all connected. Water evaporates into air, clouds drift. Rain pools into the earth. The elements all work together in harmony. As a Fae Queen, you must become intimately comfortable with balance, learning how to guide each element both separately and together. Be patient. Observe.”
I swallowed, nodded. I figured he was done talking, but he surprised me.
“Start with air alone if you must,” he said, and it felt like a real olive branch he was extending to me. “It is okay to take a step back before leaping forward.”
I nodded, accepting his olive branch gratefully. I closed my eyes, focusing on the taste of the salty breeze, the scent of the wildflower meadow’s sweet blooms drifting across the land. I felt the sensation of the air currents as I moved, or the Seer shifted positions, or the birds around me flapped their wings.
I lifted a hand, sending out tendrils of magic like I did with earth and water. If the elements were all so similar to me, then shouldn't it work the same way? But no matter how hard I tried, or how long I labored, the air just slipped through my grasp like sand—except there was no sand at all.
It went like this until after dark when I opened my eyes and saw that Seer Goddard was long since gone. My stomach had given up grumbling hours ago. I stood, completely exhausted, and hauled myself down the hill. I felt like a walking skeleton as I made my way straight into my bedroom, grabbing only some bread and fruit on the way. I fell asleep halfway through my makeshift meal, fully clothed.
Upon waking the next morning, I showered quickly and ate a light breakfast. The hunger throughout the day was always worse if I ate a big meal early. It was like my body knew what it was missing, the joys and sustenance from food, if I indulged. So I settled on light toast and an apple for the road, and I headed out before either Silas woke next to me or Millie had arrived at the house.
I hadn’t mastered air yesterday, but I had made progress with earth and water. I was itching to get back to my practice. It felt like I was on the precipice of something important, and I felt an urgency to continue my progress.
Once situated on my rocky perch atop the hill, I lifted the stone and water flawlessly on the first try. I did several iterations of the routine I’d practiced yesterday to ensure I had it cemented into my brain. When I was confident in my ability to balance both stone and water simultaneously, I turned to air.
I sat, as Seer Goddard had initially instructed, and breathed. In and out for hours and hours and hours. The midday sun broiled against my shoulders. Fortunately, Millie had created a little tincture I put on my skin like oil, that smelled faintly of mint and lime, and prevented my skin from burning.
She hadn’t figured out how to stop me from losing weight, though. My clothes sagged and my ribs showed, but the hunger didn’t bother me so much anymore. Lots of people fasted voluntarily. If Seer Goddard thought this was necessary for my progression, and everyone thought Seer Goddard was my one chance of mastering Fae magic, well, I’d try just about anything.
Exasperated from making little progress, I took a break around midafternoon. I opened my eyes. Ishouldbe able to do this. I knew how to breathe. I was connected to nature around me. But I could not figure out how to get ahold of air like I did water or earth. It was elusive and clever, if air could have such qualities. Anytime it felt like my magic was getting close to capturing it, it slipped away like a dream.
