For today’s snippet, I thought I’d share a little bit about Krysilla’s magic.
She’s just finished speaking with Lejer, her “new” employer, and has gone, for the first time in a long time, to light the ovens for the day’s baking.
(Disclaimer: This is part of a rough draft. There will be errors, there will be typos, there is the possibility this scene won’t even make it into the final draft. At the very least, there might be major changes. Just so you know. Thank you for reading.)
Each step toward them echoed in the freshly cleaned room. Standing in front of it’s gaping mouth, she did nothing, memories swarming too thick, exhaustion already creeping up on her.
It’s no different from other casting, she told herself. She checked to make certain wood was laid within. It was. She raised her hands, and remembered what she had recently learned.
The fire was alive. And she was merely asking it to come to life for her.
She waved her hand, drawing not only on Lejer’s teachings, but what she’d learned during her time with Zhiv.
The fire blazed with a roaring whoosh. She jumped back from the heat of it, staring at the flames as they danced in the oven.
The color wasn’t right. That was the first thing she noticed. It should be a combination of orange and yellow. But flickers of brilliant white danced along the edge.
It was also too hot. She reached out her hand and calmed the flames, damping them down until she had a steady fire. The flickers of white disappeared.
She lowered her hands and watched the steadiness of the flame.
Terror niggled her heart. Had she really changed so much?
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