Des Le Premier Jour- a snowbaz fic

2

Baz

Phillipa Stainton is a hermit, which is probably my fault. I don't blame her. Any mage who couldn't use their voice would probably want to be alone.

I feel so much regret for what I did to her. There's really no excuse- I wanted to hurt Simon. The way I felt about him was killing me, and even though I could never kill him (I figured he would kill me first), I wanted him to be hurting as badly as I was. If I had known then that Simon and I would be where we are now, it's safe to say I would have acted differently.

The path to Phillipa's home is an overgrown trail through a beautiful forest. It's spring, and the wildflowers that grow over the trail are at their most vibrant. The grass is long and dewy, and brushes my hands as we walk the narrow path. Butterflies, birds, and squirrels race among the tall trees. The late-afternoon sun glares off of the raindrops on the flora and Simon's lovely hair.

Then it all stops.

One second, Simon and I are walking, hand in hand, taking in the scenery. The next-well, the next second, everything is the same, but it's not.

We're standing in a dirt clearing, where the ground is dry and cracked. There are no insects and animals darting about. It's silent, except for a ringing in my ears, like fireworks just went off. Everything seems to be vibrating. I try to use magic, but even for a simple spell, I can't. My magic feel like it's melting into the ground before I can even reach it. I can't see. I can't hear anything over the ringing. I can't move, I feel like I'm sinking into quicksand. I think Simon's got his wings around me, but my body is too numb to feel them. My consciousness is slipping, melting away. Every nerve in my body is screaming. I can't feel my heart beating. Just before I let myself slip away, something slams into me, and I fall onto the moist soil outside of the clearing.

"Tripped on a tree root," Simon says, coughing and gasping.

I can barely speak, my throat is burning so bad. "What the bloody hell was that?"

Simon shrugs. "Dead spot?"

"Yeah I guess. Shall we carry on, then?"

Simon

I can't feel dead spots. But whatever Baz and I walked into, I felt it.

I felt magic.

I felt it, white-hot, steamy magic, filling my body and saturating me like paper in water. I felt like if I stayed for too long, I would dissolve, or combust, like the way I used to explode when I had magic of my own.

I didn't tell Baz what I felt. I'm not even sure that it really happened. I'll tell him and Penny later. Right now, we have to give Phillipa Stainton her voice back.

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