Echo, p.3
Echo, page 3
"And the sacrifice?"
"We don’t know what that means yet," Vanna said.
"And the army?"
"All we know is that Jivar will wage a war on this world,” Vanna said. “We have no idea when, but it’s soon. This is why it’s time for you to start your training." She was about to say something else, but Kirby gestured for her to stop.
"We understand this is a lot to take in, Echo," he said.
"Yes. Yes, it is." I inhaled a heavy breath. "None of this makes any sense."
"But you've seen the beasts yourself," he argued.
"Even so. Assuming everything you said is true, I still think you have the wrong person. I’m not cut out to be a superhero or to fight evil. I barely function as a normal human. I’m rigid and stubborn and awkward and—"
"It has to be you, Echo," he cut in. "Remember yesterday? I needed to close the portal and send the Katarus away before they hurt more people, but I’m not a witch. So I had Vanna draw the sigil on your hand, and I used your blood to fuel the spell. This wouldn’t have worked if you hadn’t been a witch."
"That thing you did almost killed me." I felt my jaws quivering.
"I know it was painful for you, but I had no other choice." The sincerity in Kirby’s voice soothed me. I glanced at my wounded hand. If I hadn’t seen it all with my eyes, I would’ve never believed them.
Ever since I was a little girl, Mother looked at me like an abomination. One glance from her, and I’d know there was something wrong with me. She must’ve known I’m cursed.
"This," I uttered. "All this witchy thing you’re talking about. Is it a gift or a curse?"
"It’s a prophecy," Vanna answered. "A mission you have to accomplish."
"What if I say no?" I lifted my eyes to meet hers. " What if I don’t believe you? What if I don’t want to be a part of this? Are there other witches?"
"Hundreds of them." Vanna shrugged. "All around the world. There’s an entire community of witches led by the Magic Board."
"That’s a group of witches who manage everything related to magic," Kirby added. "They protect literature, and they make sure magic stays a secret. That’s why your family doesn’t remember yesterday. The Magic Board altered their memories."
"Ok, the Magic Board people sound powerful," I said. "Why don’t you ask them for help?
"First, they won’t help us," Vanna said. "Blackwoods are not welcomed on the board." It seemed like she didn’t want to share more details. "Second, they can’t help us. As my brother told you, Echo, you’re the only one that can stop this. It’s your prophecy."
"There’s more than this too." Kirby raised his hand. "Katarus usually attack people in small, alienated towns. They would never show up in the middle of the city. Yesterday was a one-of-a-kind event, and when we thought about it, we realized—"
"That they came for me?" The thought filled me with guilt.
"There’s no way to be sure, but if this is true, then you’re in this whether we like it or not."
We? It sounded like he didn’t want me to be a part of this either.
"You must learn to protect yourself and your family," he added.
War, prophecies, witches, and spirits—I would’ve never imagined being a part of such conversation, let alone the anticipated non-hero, trying to avoid a panic attack. Nothing they said made sense, yet it somehow explained the events of the day before. Whether I believed them or not didn’t matter. I watched a person die.
***
I lay down on Vanna’s yellow couch. The golden retriever, which Kirby called Oscar, stood by my side and stroked my head to comfort me.
"You’re so sweet." I gently scratched the base of his ears.
Kirby approached, so I sat up to free some space on the couch. The dog trotted away. "Feeling better?" Kirby asked.
"I don’t know who I am anymore." I whined. "There is magic and beasts and prophecies, and I’m chosen for a mission. Me? Echo? The geeky law school student, now a witch?"
"I get this is a lot to process. Believe me, I didn’t want you to be a part of this. Neither did Vanna." He paused, engaged in thought.
"You keep saying this, but I don’t understand why. Isn’t it your job to train me?"
"That’s right," Vanna interrupted. She was sitting at the dining table, listening to our conversation. "You what’s funny, Echo? You say that you don’t know who you are anymore when you’re finally discovering yourself."
"What?"
"Whether you were aware of it or not, magic has always been a part of you. Whoever you thought you were can’t be your true self. Magic is your truth."
"My truth will get me killed by Katarus."
"That’s possible." She stared through the corner of her eyes. "But it’ll also make you whole. It’s time to let go of who you thought you are, Echo. Let your truth shape your life."
"How about this, Echo?" Kirby broke in. "Start your training and see how things go, and whenever you want to stop, we’ll back away. And you won’t be fighting anything. No Katarus. No Jivar. Nothing to lose."
I turned my head to evade his gaze. While I didn’t care for what Vanna said, Kirby’s proposal sounded reasonable. The stakes were low, and the only way to tell if they were delusional was to go with the flow. Magic is real? Great... Show me.
"You guys, you said you were, uh, spirits of light?" I asked. "What kind of powers do spirits have? Magic? Mind-reading? Combat skills?"
"Vanna does Aikido," Kirby said in a cheery tone. "She’s pretty good, but we have no superpowers whatsoever."
"No powers?" That didn’t sound right.
"We do have a lot to teach you," Vanna said. "For the next few months, you’ll be doing a lot of studying."
"Good thing I’m a straight-A student." I gave her my silly grin. If they are right about the Katarus coming for me, then I’m “in” whether I like it or not. I’d better be prepared.
***
"Latin and Sumerian?" I examined the stack of books Vanna put on the table, coughing when their dust blew in my face.
"You’ll also need to learn the basics of Hungarian," she said. "But this can wait."
I pouted. "I thought magic was about pointing my wand at stuff and making things invisible?"
"You have a lot to learn before you can do that. Starting tomorrow, we need you to come over at dawn for training."
"Dawn?" I repeated, taken aback.
"That’s if you want to finish before your college classes start." Her words were nonnegotiable.
"Good grief," I grumbled.
"It’ll get better one day," Kirby said, patting me on the head like a child.
I shrugged and offered Vanna a grin. "Do I at least get a flying broom?"
"No," she said.
"A flying vacuum cleaner?"
"No."
"Magic sucks." I wrinkled my nose.
Pressing his hand to his belly, Kirby guffawed. I, too, got caught in the laughter fit. Vanna gave us a scolding look.
That was how our story started—the three of us in the colorful living room, Kirby and I being goofy and Vanna acting all mature. I didn’t know better back then. I didn’t know that in a world far away with two suns in the sky, hundreds of Katarus prepared for war.
***
The sword-clawed beasts lined up in the spacious yard of a medieval castle. A young man stood among them, with a sword tucked against his hip. He was dressed in black, the color of his hair, and he had ocean-blue eyes that revealed unwanted vulnerability. "Humans may not be as strong as you are, but they have no mercy," he shouted.
When he raised his head, the young man spotted someone at the window. His clenched jaw line exposed his tension. "If you want to survive, you must be faster, strike harder, and work together as one. Unless you’re prepared, you’ll be killed... Any of you willing to die?"
The beasts roared, shaking the walls of the castle.
Up at the window, Jivar watched, his arms tucked behind his back and his chin lifted. He was dressed in a princely maroon tunic, and his hair covered the sides of his olive-colored face. The years had failed to leave their mark on his wrinkle-free skin, but despite that, he had the aura of a long-dead corpse. Lifeless. Cold. Bitter.
Abandoning the window, Jivar strutted towards a table behind him. He took a seat next to a woman in a red dress, who had a wreath of flowers on her head. With hair as dark as a hopeless night, skin as white as a cloud, and lips as red as blood, she was, indeed, the fairest of her world. But her eyes, those huge, anime-like eyes—they gleamed with insanity.
On the table, she had a large map of the human world and pins she used to mark locations. "One portal, two portals, three portals." she counted.
"I have something to tell you, Viessa," Jivar spoke in a deep, commanding voice. "It’s about Doyle."
"Doyle?" She gave him a blank stare.
"I need you to keep an eye on him."
A mischievous smile appeared on Viessa’s face. "My eyes are always on him, my lord."
Jivar gave no reaction to her words and went on with his. "His bond with the Katarus clouds his judgment. He might be fighting on my side, but his loyalty belongs to them."
"You’ll always have my loyalty, my lord." Viessa rose to standing and bowed down to Jivar, who just nodded.
She crossed one arm to grip the other and sashayed towards the window, every step graceful yet sly. She climbed up the sill and removed her black glove to reveal the ancient writings on her arm. Glancing at them, she whispered a few inaudible words then launched herself out of the window.
Chapter 3: By the Book
It had been a month since my magic training started, but there was nothing magical about it. I spent my time reading and memorizing funny-sounding spells. Vanna helped me exercise to build physical stamina, and Kirby taught me how to meditate, which, with my overthinking, obsessive personality, wasn’t easy at all.
One morning, Vanna and Kirby announced I was ready for my first test. They had me seated at their round table and started to question me. "What’s the difference between a common witch and a noble witch?" Kirby asked.
"A common witch can brew a potion or cast a basic spell by appealing to higher beings, such as spirits. "Noble witches, on the other hand, can create their own spells. They don’t need external powers as they have the magic inside them. The power of a noble witch depends on her training and her element."
"Can you explain?"
"There are five main elements noble witches use for their magic—fire, water, air, earth, and vision. Each one allows the witches to create and use different spells, all of which are superior to common magic. For example, a common witch can create a fireball, but they can’t compete with the blaze of a noble with the fire element."
"Good job, Echo. You get an A," he said.
"Yes!" I threw my fists in the air.
"Now, it’s time for the practical exam."
"P-practical? You said I get an A."
"Yeah, you read the books, but reading about magic doesn’t make you a witch. Using magic does."
"B-b-but..."
"Echo, you’re ready for this." He gave me a reassuring smile.
Surrendering, I let out a long sigh. "What do you want me to do?"
That was Vanna’s turn to speak. She approached the table and lugged one of its chairs to the corner of the room. "Move it back to where it belongs," she ordered.
"You mean with magic?" I hoped she’d be joking. She wasn’t. Her expression was as glassy as ever.
My stomach knotted. Oh, how I wanted to impress her. Standing up, I opened my palm towards the chair. My voice quivered as I recalled the object control spell I had memorized, "Per vires lucis, hoc objectum mihi pareat."
The chair didn’t budge.
I swallowed dry before I repeated. "Per vires lucis, hoc objectum mihi pareat."
I tried again and again, my stress heightening. It’s a beginner’s spell. I should have gotten it the first time. As a straight-A student, I couldn’t accept anything less than perfect. The thought of failure was humiliating. I had a lot to learn.
Beads of sweat coated my forehead, and I pressed my hand to my pounding chest. "I can’t do this. I’m not ready."
"Relax, Echo. Of course, you are," Kirby said. "You’re just looking at this the wrong way."
"What do you mean?" I yelled. "I did everything as the book said."
"Come here." Kirby reached for my hand. "Echo, why do you think we ask you to meditate every day?"
"To be calmer?"
He shook his head. "To learn to connect. Only when you quieten your mind will you see things for what they really are. If you’re looking at this chair and only seeing the wood and the nails, you’re missing the point of your training."
I narrowed my eyes in confusion.
"Look at it," he said. "Even though this chair doesn’t breathe, it’s alive. Every molecule in it is vibrating with energy that your magic can tap into. But to be able to do this, you must first communicate with the chair. Talk to it. Get to know it. The results may surprise you."
"Take your time with the test," Vanna said. "But don’t whine and say that you’re not ready. Meditate and do the work. You’re not going to make it from the first time. No one does." She turned on her heel and moseyed away, letting me dwell on my embarrassment.
What Kirby said didn’t make any sense to my rational, attorney self. But I did what he asked me to do. Every day, I spent a few hours in the morning staring at the chair, fully concentrated, asking it to talk to me. Until one day, it did. Not with words, though, but images that came into my head. The chair began to tell me its story, and I learned it was once a part of a mahogany tree in India. Before Kirby and Vanna bought it, it belonged to an old lady, who used to read Red Riding Hood to her granddaughter. I found myself wondering what happened to that lady, amazed by how connected everyone and everything was. Be that as it may, I still wasn’t able to work the spell. I know now that learning was bound to take its time.
***
"A violation of this section requires the defendant intentionally accessing a property without authorization or—" My fingers traced the word as I recited.
"Can you please keep it down?" The stranger across the table pointed at the sign: Keep quiet.
I enjoyed hanging out in the school library. It smelled of books, and it was often quiet. Given all the time I spent on my witchcraft training, I had to work twice as hard to maintain my grades. I could use the quietness.
The door squeaked open, and a petite, clumsy girl with an awkward grin entered. She bounced on her feet and roamed the room.
I pressed my hands to my temples when an abrupt headache hit, forcing me to shut my eyes.
Then I saw her.
That clumsy girl—I saw her in my mind. A bookcase fell and broke her leg.
I opened my eyes. She was standing in the middle of the room with a clueless face. After Tara’s wedding, I knew better than to underestimate a vision. So I kept an eye out for her. Not long after, she walked into the history section and began to browse. To reach a book, she stepped on the lower shelf and climbed up the bookcase, which started to fall.
I jumped to my feet, throwing my hand out. "Per vires lucis, hoc objectum mihi pareat," I chanted, although I wasn’t planning on it. Suddenly, everything around me disappeared, and I became fully aware of the bookcase. I saw energy strings enclosing it like rings around a planet. As I moved my hand, the rings spun. The bookcase hung in the air, slanted.
The girl stifled a scream when the bookcase began to move against gravity and return to its normal position.
It took me a moment to process what happened.
Did my spell really work? Did I move that bookcase? Hadn’t it been for the horror in the girl’s eyes, I would’ve thought I imagined it all.
"You okay?" I hurried to help her get down the shelf.
"Was I-I flying?" She gulped for air.
"You’re fine now," I said with a smile. "Never climb up a bookcase again."
"Never again." She nodded. "Thank you."
Everyone stared at the girl as she sat down to catch her breath. A flush crept across her cheeks. Once again, she had grabbed unwanted attention.
I thought of how I could help her. Glancing up at the book she needed, I exhaled a deep breath. "Per vires lucis, hoc objectum mihi pareat."
The book descended to my hand. It wasn’t a one-time thing. My jaws dropped. The spell worked. My heart was singing. Finally, I was ready to move the mahogany chair and pass my first test.
"Hey, is this what you wanted?" I asked, waving at the girl with the book in my hand.
"Yes. Thank you. Thank you very much." She put her hands together in gratitude.
***
Back at the apartment, Kirby and Vanna celebrated my success with a vanilla cake and a balloon. That was the start of a new tradition. Whenever I reached a milestone in my training, I earned myself a piece of cake. "Guys, this is so thoughtful."
"Congratulations, Echo," Kirby cheered. "We’re very proud of you."
"You did a good job," Vanna added.
"Yes, but it took a long time. I was worried I wouldn’t be able to do it."
"Self-doubt is inevitable," Vanna said. "Every once in a while, it’ll come up and haunt you, but if you want to accomplish anything, you’re going to have to push, push through the self-doubt, Echo."
I remained silent, stunned to sense the kindness behind Vanna’s cold features. Bitter as she was, she still cared about me.
Vanna’s advice became my life motto. I relied on it every time I learned a new spell, every time I tested my limits. Whenever self-doubt hit and quitting appealed to me, I pushed.
Two months later, when it was time for my second test, I came prepared. Kirby told me to brew a sleeping potion, which I perfected. Vanna wanted me to move a pile of pens, and I made them dance in the air.
***
"Please, tell me you’re kidding," I said. It was a cloudy autumn day when Vanna and Kirby dragged me to the wishing well at Oracles Park, my least favorite place. "I’m willing to believe in tooth fairies, but not in this."
"Just try it." Vanna handed me a silver coin.
