He chuffs. “It’s not like that. You’ll see.”
“Is this how you figured out your magic?” I ask.
He grows somber for a beat, then nods. “Somewhat. Me and…my siblings were all blessed with very similar magics. Manifestation of our desires.”
“Siblings? How many?” I ask.
I realize we’re treading that ground he’s so scared to walk, but I hope he doesn’t cloister up and refuse me again. Even if he does, I’ll wait for answers. His history, revealed to me bit by bit, is the most interesting thing I’ve ever experienced. The best story I’ve ever been told.
“Many,” he says. “Now, focus on your chest.”
So, it’s the waiting game. All right, then.
“On my chest? My heart or my ribs?”
“On the thing inside your chest that is you. Your essence.”
I scrunch my nose. “Like, my soul?”
I’m vaguely religious having grown up in a Christian home. I believe in the eternal soul, but I’ve never reallyfeltit.
“Soul is a good word for it,” he says. “If considering it as your soul helps you visualize its location, do that.”
“Okay,” I mumble as I close my eyes.
I fill my mind’s-eye with myself in a seated position. I note my hair and my clothes, making sure the details are right. Then, I peel back the layers of my body, looking through myself like an x-ray, until I can see a glowing thing in my chest.
It’s orange, and that surprises me. I thought souls were white.
“I see it,” I say.
“Your power of imagination is exceptional,” he says.
“Lots of reading,” I reply, watching the orange flicker and spiral, like smoke and fire.
“Breathe into your soul now, letting it fill your lungs.”
I take a long inhale and watch as the orange in my chest spreads into my ribs, my lungs.
“When you have it in your lungs, cup your hands to your mouth, and breathe out.”
I hold my hands over my face like I’m going to splash water over me, then purse my lips as I exhale slowly. I visualize the orange traveling up my throat and I…feel it. It’s warm and fluttery, like bubbles in champagne. It spills out into my hands and Bastian sighs with wonder.
“Open your eyes,” he whispers.
I crack my left eye to see orange mist swirling in the cup of my hands. I gasp, sucking it back into me.
Bastian laughs. “Again.”
I close my eyes and breathe into my lungs, capturing the magic and blowing it out into my hands again. This time, I don’t suck it back up.
“Now, we wait,” he says.
“For what?”
“For it to reveal itself.”
“How long will that take?”
