Dance with the flames.
Macey's mind became hazy, wandering in the thick mist of shrouded nightmares. Her lips quivered with tension, she could feel her eyes sinking into the back of her skull. She tried to speak, her mouth was open enough to say something yet all that tumbled out was silence.
Her heart began to accelerate, beating against Macey's chest like lightning against a tree. Her skin and ears could sense the uneasy tensity of fire magic. It was all too much for her and she felt too petrified to even breathe.
No not now, c'mon Macey it's only fire.
Macey desperately tried to coax herself to normality, she even tried breathing in and holding it for a few seconds. But the blasts of fire huddled her back to reality, the realisation of the dreams that haunted her so very long ago.
When all she heard was white noise, an irritating chuckle cut through to her. It was one that was filled with disgust, one that was directed straight at her and for some reason, it snapped her out of her anxiety.
She tilted her head up, brushing a strand of her hair away from her face with her lips pressed together in anger. He had a smirk across his face, one that made Macey wanna shin kick it right off.
"Wow, the great moon mage can't cast fire." His voice was thick with sarcasm as an orange flame sputtered and crackled in the palm of his hand, drawing in heat that surrounded them. "Guess you ain't that great as everyone made you out to be."
Macey sneered through her teeth. "Sorry I've lowered your expectations of me. Maybe I'll try again next year." She screwed her entire face, adverting her eyes elsewhere. She thought about conjuring up one small flame just to shut him up. But she knew deep down she would get upset.
"Marvellous Connor," roared Breslin, stretching his arms out wide. "You have an impeccable control of your flames, job well done."
Catching eyes with Breslin, Macey knew he was about to question her non-casting ass. She hoped he would ignore her, think she was apart of the furniture. But to no avail. Breslin knew when a student wasn't co-operating.
He wasn't stern, nor was he mad. All he did was sigh in disappointment, folding his arms and shaking his head. "I know this must be hard for you, after everything that's happened in your life. But I know you're capable of doing this. Please give it a go."
With pressed lips and crossed arms, Macey suppressed an exaggerated sigh. Her hands brushed the stray hair that lingered in her face. She really didn't want to practise any fire arts at the moment.
Breslin hadn't stopped staring at her, his brow now lifted in a gesture of impatience she ached to ignore. Her eyes drifted around the room to distract her mind from his unforgiving gaze. Perhaps, she was melodramatic.
She had done this before, after all. It wouldn't be so troublesome, right?
Nodding her head, she agreed with his words. She could do this, and she shouldn't let past occurrences keep her down so much. A smile appeared across her face, but her ambitions were smothered pretty fast by the lingering sneer of the Heslington. This guy wasn't winning any brownie points with her, and it was beginning to pissing her off.
"Don't hurt yourself now. Wasn't it you who pointed out that difficult magic tears at muscles?" His flame glided along his knuckles, leaving in its wake a few embers to sizzle at his skin. It didn't seem to bother him, not flinching one bit. All he managed to show in facial expressions was a smirk "Why come here and not cast fire. We're in spells, what were you expecting to cast, nothing?"
YOU ARE READING
Grendilton: Rise of the Shadows (Re-Writing)Fantasy
Nobody is born evil. They're only seen as a hero in a different perspective. Macey Russells is a trainee Summoner with the rare ability to manipulate the lunar energy that surrounds her. However, due to her anxiety, she has a hard time controlling...