Page 100 of Anomalies

I exhale a heavy breath. “Noted.”

“Now, when you steal light,” he turns, spotting a lantern on one of the fence posts, “you’ll grab on to it as if it’s a tangible thing to hold. Release enough magic to take it, but keep that circle permeable. You’ll have a split second before it hits you.”

I turn to face the lantern, my eyes narrowing on the soft amber orb floating within it. I stare until my vision goes blurry and lights flash across my eyes.

“You aren’t doing anything,” he mutters.

“Shut up.” A few more painful seconds pass, and sweat beads along my hairline.

“Lucina, take it like you would take⁠—”

Magic cracks and the light bursts through the glass lantern. I don’t even have time to inhale before pain erupts and a million needles stab through my open palm. I curse as I stumble backwards, gritting my teeth against the sharp burn.

“I told you it would fucking hurt.”

I grunt, blowing on the red and blotchy skin.

“You have to keep that circle saturated, Cin, the light needs magic to pass through it.”

He has me try again. And again. And again.

By the time we get to the last lantern, my legs are shaky, and the skin across both of my palms is thoroughly burnt and throbbing. Thanks to me and all my failed attempts, we are almost entirely submerged in darkness, the dead of night like a thick blanket around us.

“Come on,” Pax beckons to me with his hands. “I feel good about this one.”

“I don’t,” I mutter to myself.

“What was that?”

“Nothing.”

Magic blooms across my ruined palms, the heat multiplying the heavy pulse there, and pain flares hot and new. If this is how it feels to get hit by tiny, insignificant balls of amber, how the fuck would fire feel? Or lightning—dear gods.

The last lantern flickers, mocking me as all the other lanterns before it have. And I’m sick of it. Power cracks, hard enough that my shoulder jerks, and I anticipate the pain…the burn⁠—

But something new strikes my blood. Something foreign. “Pax…”

“You’re fine, don’t freak out.” He takes a cautious step towards me, the shadows of his face illuminated only by the stars overhead. “You did it, Cin. Do you feel the way it moves?”

“Yes,” I manage to get out. “Like a string being pulled up my arm.”

“Good. That’s good. If you wanted to store it, you could. You could keep it at the base of your spine along with the rest of your power, so it’s there to use whenever you need it. But for now, pull it back to your hand.”

“Okay,” I breathe, tugging gently on that string. “Done.”

“Now is when you’d change its form. You’d think of it as an illusion, and if you want fire, you’ll need to imagine a flame and everything about it. How hot it is, how it moves, what shade of red you want it to be.” He jerks his head to the empty lantern. “But since it’s your first time, just keep the form it’s in, and put it back. Everything else will take practice.”

It sounds an awful lot like a challenge, and he must see that on my face.

“Lucina,” he warns.

“I know what fire looks like, Pax, just let me try.” My brows furrow, and sweat beads along my upper lip as I slip deep in concentration. “There’s no harm in trying.”

He scoffs, crossing his arms over his chest. “Fine, but I’m not putting you out when you catch on⁠—”

I push it back through my open palm, heat flaring across my skin, bright and burning and red. I imagine the tip of the lighter and the crank of the spark wheel. I imagine the strike of a match and the catch of a flame. Then I exhale, giving it oxygen. Giving it life.

“Fire,” he breathes, face paling.