Jackson shakes his head. “I’m okay, I just want to get this right.”
“Stitch and Sew, Mend the Break”
He traces a circle in front of the cracked mirror once, twice, thrice.
“Restora.”
The cracks meld back together, for the third time this evening, much to Jackson’s annoyance.
“Even professionals have trial and error when trying new spells. You don’t need to strain yourself,” says Hakeem, brows furrowed.
“I promise I know my limits, I have the mana to spare.” He offers a sly wink towards the kitchen and a self assured grin.
Eddie and Hakeem exchange nervous glances. They aren’t worried about his mana, but decided to let him be for now.
“One more time,” says Jackson. with a roll of his shoulders.
“Mirror, Mirror”.
Jackson attempts the spell again. Once again the image in the mirror isreplaced by green mist. “Well, hello there.”
Crack,the spell fails again. “Fuckin- I’m okay, I’m good.” Jackson holds his tongue and takes deep breaths, he will not lose control over a simple obsolete scrying spell.
He repairs a mirror and tries for a fifth time. “Bonjour, Mr. Jack-”
Crack,the mirror breaks again. Jackson’s eye twitches in frustration, he lets loose a sigh as he massages between his brows.
He pulls out his phone to text Wendy, counting to ten in his head in an attempt to remain calm. “My darling, dearest, Wendy. Please don’t talk till I finish the spell.” Wendy replies with a simple GIF of a cartoon cat zipping its mouth shut.
Eddie calls from the kitchen where he and Hakeem are just finishing the dishes. “You okay, Jackson?”
Jackson’s voice cracks as he snaps his head to shout over his shoulder, “Fine, eh hem. Just fine, just taking a second to compose myself.”
Jackson will not let this get him down.
Mirror, mirror,Crack.
He will not lose his cool over a practice spell with no consequences.
On the wall,Crack.
He will regain the control he had that day he hunted down the cultist.
Show me those,Crack.
He will not lose control and hurt the people he lo-
“Whose path we—”
Crack.
“Why. Won’t. You. Just, WORK!?” Shadows quiver in the corners as Jackson’s voice booms across the apartment, before all the lights shut off.
“Oh shit! Is everyone okay?” Hakeem yelps, bumping into Eddie, “Oh sorry, Eddie.”
“I’m alright. Jackson?” Both men turn to look at Jackson, his shoulders heaving and breathing hard. The faint glow of crimson can be seen seeping from the profile of his face.
Hakeem makes his way over, a careful hand extended, “Jackson? Are you hurt?”
