8 min read
A Feather’s Weight
April 28, 2017
Fridays were Ryder’s favorite. They were always busy days for Reuben at the shop, which meant Ryder had the house to himself for longer stretches of time than usual. It was a chance to practice his magic in the living room, where he had far more space to experiment than in his cramped bedroom.
Reuben had asked him to stay inside while he was working; Ryder was still new to this world, and the last thing Reuben wanted was for him to wander off and get lost. But the curiosity Ryder felt every time he looked outside was difficult to ignore. He longed for the freedom that seemed to come so easily to everyone else. He watched through the windows as people passed by on their way into the forest down the road, wishing he could follow. For now, though, Fridays were his second-best escape — a chance to have the entire house to himself, to explore his magic without interruption.
That day, Ryder had spent hours trying to figure out how to control his powers, trying to will his skins potency to weaken, yet without direct contact, how was he to know if it was truly working? The unpredictability of his touch weighed heavily on his mind. He remembered the different reactions people had whenever his skin brushed against theirs: his aunt Calista had acted almost drunk when she hugged him, Etheriel — a blind raevan — had seen intense visions in her mind’s eye, and poor Reuben had been left nauseous for hours. He needed to figure out why this kept happening and how to stop it.
As the day wore on and the clock neared five, Ryder knew he still had at least an hour or two before Reuben returned. Just as he was about to plan his next attempt, a knock echoed through the house, followed by two more in quick succession. Ryder’s eyes widened. Who could that be? Reuben had always warned him not to open the door to strangers.
He floated cautiously to the window and peeked outside. Calista was standing on the porch, a smile on her face. Ryder felt a wave of relief. It was someone he knew, someone he trusted. He heaved the door open, curiosity in his eyes.
“Calista…hello! Are you looking for Reuben?” Ryder asked, puzzled, as he floated back into the living room, leaving the door wide open for her.
“Hey there, no, I’m actually here for you,” Calista replied warmly, closing the door behind her. She carried a large gift bag decorated with swirling patterns and colors, the top brimming with white tissue paper over to the coffee table and set it down.
“For me?” Ryder’s confusion deepened as he stared at the bag. “What’s in the bag?”
“This,” she said, gesturing to the gift bag. “Is for you. Go ahead, open it.”
Ryder floated over to the bag, carefully pulling out the tissue paper one piece at a time until the edge of a book’s spine peeked through. He hesitated, eyes widening in surprise. “A…book?” he exclaimed, his curiosity quickly giving way to excitement.
“Yes, a book! Go on, take it out,” Calista encouraged with a grin.
Ryder pulled the book from its wrapping and held it in his hands, his breath catching. It was a large, beautifully crafted, leather-bound book. It was magnificent.
Reuben had asked him to stay inside while he was working; Ryder was still new to this world, and the last thing Reuben wanted was for him to wander off and get lost. But the curiosity Ryder felt every time he looked outside was difficult to ignore. He longed for the freedom that seemed to come so easily to everyone else. He watched through the windows as people passed by on their way into the forest down the road, wishing he could follow. For now, though, Fridays were his second-best escape — a chance to have the entire house to himself, to explore his magic without interruption.
That day, Ryder had spent hours trying to figure out how to control his powers, trying to will his skins potency to weaken, yet without direct contact, how was he to know if it was truly working? The unpredictability of his touch weighed heavily on his mind. He remembered the different reactions people had whenever his skin brushed against theirs: his aunt Calista had acted almost drunk when she hugged him, Etheriel — a blind raevan — had seen intense visions in her mind’s eye, and poor Reuben had been left nauseous for hours. He needed to figure out why this kept happening and how to stop it.
As the day wore on and the clock neared five, Ryder knew he still had at least an hour or two before Reuben returned. Just as he was about to plan his next attempt, a knock echoed through the house, followed by two more in quick succession. Ryder’s eyes widened. Who could that be? Reuben had always warned him not to open the door to strangers.
He floated cautiously to the window and peeked outside. Calista was standing on the porch, a smile on her face. Ryder felt a wave of relief. It was someone he knew, someone he trusted. He heaved the door open, curiosity in his eyes.
“Calista…hello! Are you looking for Reuben?” Ryder asked, puzzled, as he floated back into the living room, leaving the door wide open for her.
“Hey there, no, I’m actually here for you,” Calista replied warmly, closing the door behind her. She carried a large gift bag decorated with swirling patterns and colors, the top brimming with white tissue paper over to the coffee table and set it down.
“For me?” Ryder’s confusion deepened as he stared at the bag. “What’s in the bag?”
“This,” she said, gesturing to the gift bag. “Is for you. Go ahead, open it.”
Ryder floated over to the bag, carefully pulling out the tissue paper one piece at a time until the edge of a book’s spine peeked through. He hesitated, eyes widening in surprise. “A…book?” he exclaimed, his curiosity quickly giving way to excitement.
“Yes, a book! Go on, take it out,” Calista encouraged with a grin.
Ryder pulled the book from its wrapping and held it in his hands, his breath catching. It was a large, beautifully crafted, leather-bound book. It was magnificent.
A wide smile spread across Ryder’s face as he eagerly flipped it open to the center. But his excitement quickly turned to confusion when he saw the pages were blank. There were no pictures, no words — nothing. “Where’s the story?” he asked, frowning slightly.
Calista laughed. “Story? No, silly. This is a spell book. It’s blank so you can fill it up with your own spells, ideas, and notes.”
Ryder’s eyes lit up with understanding as he thumbed through the empty pages, already wondering what he might fill it with. But another question gnawed at him. “Why are you giving this to me?” he asked softly.
Calista’s expression softened. “There are three reasons, actually. First, I know you’ve been feeling down about your powers lately, especially your skin. This is my way of letting you know I believe in you. Second, I wanted to tell you that I’m here for you if you ever have questions about magic. You see…I don’t think I mentioned this when we first met, but I’m a witch.”
Ryder’s jaw dropped. “A witch!? Really?” he exclaimed, excitement overshadowing his previous thoughts.
“Yes, really,” Calista chuckled, amused by his enthusiasm. She snapped her fingers, and suddenly, crystals appeared out of thin air and began to float above and around her hand, spinning and refracting the light. As they turned, sections of Calista’s hand seemed to disappear, revealing an invisibility spell at work. “See?”
Calista laughed. “Story? No, silly. This is a spell book. It’s blank so you can fill it up with your own spells, ideas, and notes.”
Ryder’s eyes lit up with understanding as he thumbed through the empty pages, already wondering what he might fill it with. But another question gnawed at him. “Why are you giving this to me?” he asked softly.
Calista’s expression softened. “There are three reasons, actually. First, I know you’ve been feeling down about your powers lately, especially your skin. This is my way of letting you know I believe in you. Second, I wanted to tell you that I’m here for you if you ever have questions about magic. You see…I don’t think I mentioned this when we first met, but I’m a witch.”
Ryder’s jaw dropped. “A witch!? Really?” he exclaimed, excitement overshadowing his previous thoughts.
“Yes, really,” Calista chuckled, amused by his enthusiasm. She snapped her fingers, and suddenly, crystals appeared out of thin air and began to float above and around her hand, spinning and refracting the light. As they turned, sections of Calista’s hand seemed to disappear, revealing an invisibility spell at work. “See?”
Ryder’s eyes widened in awe. “That’s incredible! Can you teach me?”
Calista smiled at his eagerness. “This spell takes years to master,” she explained, flicking the crystals out of existence. “But if you turn to the first few pages of that book, you’ll find the third reason I came here today. I’ve already written your first spell — one I think will be very useful for you. It was the first spell I taught myself, and now I want you to have it.”
Ryder quickly flipped to the front of the book. The first page was beautifully handwritten, stating that the book belonged to Ryder Rowan Rothmore. He turned to the next page, and there it was, in elegant script: “The Art of Levitation.” It was a detailed guide on the basics of levitation, complete with notes that only an experienced witch would know. Ryder’s eyes lit up as he read the intricate instructions. “This is amazing,” he whispered. “Thank you so much.”
“Would you like to see it in action?” Calista asked, a smirk playing on her lips.
Ryder nodded eagerly. Calista waved him back to give her space. She took a deep breath, closing her eyes for a moment. When she opened them, they seemed to glow with a faint, golden light. Slowly, the objects in the room began to lift — the coffee table, the vase, even the chairs and sofa. Everything hovered in the air, perfectly still, like the room had been suspended in time.
Ryder watched in awe, barely breathing. This was power unlike anything he’d seen before. Then, with a gentle wave of her hand, Calista returned everything to its place, and the room was just as it had been.
“With practice, you’ll be able to do all of this and more,” she said. “But start with something small. Look in the bag again.”
Ryder floated back to the gift bag and found a single white feather still lying among the tissue paper. He pulled it out, feeling a bit deflated. He wanted to lift the coffee table, not just a feather. But he knew he needed to start somewhere.
“Begin with the basics,” Calista encouraged. “The lighter the object, the easier it is to learn control.”
Ryder sighed but nodded. He laid the feather on the table and reread the instructions, carefully following the steps. Taking a deep breath, he closed his eyes and envisioned the feather lifting. When he opened his eyes and reached out his hand, the quill wobbled slightly before settling back down.
He exhaled in frustration. “It’s not working.”
Calista laughed. “You got the feather to move on your first try! That’s amazing.”
“But it barely moved,” Ryder said, trying to mask his disappointment.
“Magic takes practice,” Calista said gently. “When I first started, it took me a week to do what you just did. Your magic is powerful, Ryder. You just need to believe in yourself.”
Ryder forced a crooked smile, feeling grateful but still battling the frustration within. Was he really powerful? He couldn’t control his skin poison, and now he could barely lift a feather. But with Calista’s encouragement, he resolved to keep trying.
“Thank you, Aunt Cali,” he said softly. “This gift means a lot to me.”
Calista smiled warmly. “Keep practicing, and soon you’ll be doing incredible things. I promise.”
Ryder nodded, holding the spell book close to his chest, the hope of what could be slowly kindling inside him. For now, the feather was enough.
Calista smiled at his eagerness. “This spell takes years to master,” she explained, flicking the crystals out of existence. “But if you turn to the first few pages of that book, you’ll find the third reason I came here today. I’ve already written your first spell — one I think will be very useful for you. It was the first spell I taught myself, and now I want you to have it.”
Ryder quickly flipped to the front of the book. The first page was beautifully handwritten, stating that the book belonged to Ryder Rowan Rothmore. He turned to the next page, and there it was, in elegant script: “The Art of Levitation.” It was a detailed guide on the basics of levitation, complete with notes that only an experienced witch would know. Ryder’s eyes lit up as he read the intricate instructions. “This is amazing,” he whispered. “Thank you so much.”
“Would you like to see it in action?” Calista asked, a smirk playing on her lips.
Ryder nodded eagerly. Calista waved him back to give her space. She took a deep breath, closing her eyes for a moment. When she opened them, they seemed to glow with a faint, golden light. Slowly, the objects in the room began to lift — the coffee table, the vase, even the chairs and sofa. Everything hovered in the air, perfectly still, like the room had been suspended in time.
Ryder watched in awe, barely breathing. This was power unlike anything he’d seen before. Then, with a gentle wave of her hand, Calista returned everything to its place, and the room was just as it had been.
“With practice, you’ll be able to do all of this and more,” she said. “But start with something small. Look in the bag again.”
Ryder floated back to the gift bag and found a single white feather still lying among the tissue paper. He pulled it out, feeling a bit deflated. He wanted to lift the coffee table, not just a feather. But he knew he needed to start somewhere.
“Begin with the basics,” Calista encouraged. “The lighter the object, the easier it is to learn control.”
Ryder sighed but nodded. He laid the feather on the table and reread the instructions, carefully following the steps. Taking a deep breath, he closed his eyes and envisioned the feather lifting. When he opened his eyes and reached out his hand, the quill wobbled slightly before settling back down.
He exhaled in frustration. “It’s not working.”
Calista laughed. “You got the feather to move on your first try! That’s amazing.”
“But it barely moved,” Ryder said, trying to mask his disappointment.
“Magic takes practice,” Calista said gently. “When I first started, it took me a week to do what you just did. Your magic is powerful, Ryder. You just need to believe in yourself.”
Ryder forced a crooked smile, feeling grateful but still battling the frustration within. Was he really powerful? He couldn’t control his skin poison, and now he could barely lift a feather. But with Calista’s encouragement, he resolved to keep trying.
“Thank you, Aunt Cali,” he said softly. “This gift means a lot to me.”
Calista smiled warmly. “Keep practicing, and soon you’ll be doing incredible things. I promise.”
Ryder nodded, holding the spell book close to his chest, the hope of what could be slowly kindling inside him. For now, the feather was enough.