Illusions

The Fox

I hold the green mist in my hands. It's a writhing, buzzing thing underneath my fingertips. Every slight movement sends shocks through my veins. The magic is alive and it wants to break free. Every ounce of my being screams at me to let it go. To let it destroy as it was meant to from the very beginning. Its natural inclination. But, I hold fast. Refusing to let it go.

"Good Loki, let it flow through you. Imagine where you want to be. Where you desire to go." My mother's voice calms my thoughts. She holds her gentle hands around my own. Never actually making contact, she knows I have to do this on my own, but her presence is reassuring nonetheless.

I feel a bead of sweat making its way down the side of my face. Ever so slowly, I loosen the reigns on my magic. Letting the tension fall away bit by bit, but never enough to lose the control that I hold over it. I watch as tendrils of dark green smoke begin to travel up my fingertips and past my wrist. I let it seep up my skin, let it become a part of me, like another limb of sorts.

Where do I want to go? My mother's question clangs around in my head. So, many choices. The stables? Or maybe the throne room? Surely, that would give my father a fright. The mighty Odin would get quite a surprise if I, his "witch" of a son appeared from thin air at his feet or maybe even sitting in the throne itself. A good idea, in theory, but I can feel the distance between myself and the throne room. Too far for a beginning trial.

Instead, I lock eyes on a tree at the other end of the courtyard. Its limbs twisting and knotted, but it's the bright red flowers that catch my eye. Perfect. Nothing too difficult, just a small jump. I let the reigns on my magic slip just a bit more. This last piece of magic is all I need to reach my intended destination. The mist continues to travel up my arms now and onto my chest. I let it engulf me. My skin tingles wherever it touches. Everything around me begins to blur out. The babbling of the fountain and chattering below becomes distant, an echo. All I can focus on is the tree. Every ridge in the bark, every sweet-smelling blossom. I try to implant myself into the space next to the tree. To sense what it would feel like to be standing directly underneath its limbs. I can feel my body becoming weightless, fluid, and changing. Excitement fills my bones. I'm actually doing this.

A sharp sound cuts through my focus. Metal clanging on metal. Just as I let the last bit of my magic go. So close, but the second of distraction is enough for my magic to break away from me. The veil of mist around me disappears and the world comes reeling back into focus. I'm unable to control it as the slight tingling sensation of the magic on my skin turns to a burning heat then cools quickly. I sense the wildness of it as it flies off. Tight panic builds up in my chest and I feel everything that had built up slipping away. I attempt to send another wave of magic out to catch the stray orb. But to no avail.

It's all I can do to watch as the sphere of magic hits an ancient archway at the other end of the courtyard and erupts into a rainfall of sparks. Chunks of stone fall to the path below, showering a gardener in gray powder. I cringe as he looks my way. His stare filled with disgust. Yet another innocent bystander of my failed attempts at this spell. I quickly return my gaze to my mother and I'm horrified to find a laugh tugging at the corners of her mouth.

"I'm sorry mother," I tell her, the tiles beneath my feet now seem infinitely more interesting than her teasing gaze.

"Don't worry dear, you'll get it eventually. I can't tell you how long it took me to master this spell." I watch as she waves her slim hand, gold light flares up and the archway returns to its former glory. Ancient carvings and all.

"Really?" I try and lace the word with as much sarcasm as I can manage "I've been working on it for months now."

"Loki, you know that failure..."