(Ch.16) Meredith And The Vase [Training]

Chapter 16

Meredith And The Vase

Meredith leaned against the counter, bored. Her usual work attire was replaced with a yellow summer dress, her belt and holster hanging off her hip, and sandals. Her hair was splayed across her shoulders as she rested her head in one hand, and held her wand aloft with the other.

Meredith conjured a red dot to appear wherever she pointed her wand, and Cici chased it across the empty shop, zooming and zipping under and over tables and shelves. They played like that for a while before Thomas appeared in a purple haze atop the counter.

“It’s time for your lesson,” he croaked.

“Ok.” Meredith sighed as she ended her spell and holstered her wand.

“Hey!” Cici howled from under a table. “I almost had it that time!”

Meredith smiled at him and then turned her attention to Thomas.

“What am I learning today?”

“Meet me by the garden,” Thomas replied, vanishing in another purple haze.

Meredith left Cici in the shop, as it was too hot and sunny outside for the black cat. She summoned her straw hat atop her head and met Thomas in the small patch of grass just outside the fenced garden.

“We’re going to put into practice the spells you memorized yesterday.” Thomas blinked, and a knee-high clay vase appeared on the ground between the pair. “You will transfigure this vase without speaking the spells. Afterward, we will have our history and focus lesson.”

New nonverbal spells were difficult for Meredith, but she was determined. She loved learning new magic, and her earlier boredom was replaced with jittery excitement.

“Ice!” Thomas barked.

At his command, Meredith pictured the vase made of ice in her mind, focused on it, swished her wand, and loosed her magic. The vase instantly turned from clay to ice. Giddy excitement erupted within Meredith.

The pair continued, Thomas declaring various transfigurations, which Meredith quickly and easily performed. They repeated the process for a while.

“Wood!”

“Bubbles!”

“Stone!”

“Iron!”

The young witch completed the magical drill without speaking a word, and confidence surged within her. Wordless magic was a lot easier than she thought; it was just as easy as telling the dishes to wash themselves.

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Then Thomas had her change the vase into various shapes and materials. Meredith quickly found it to be much more…imaginative. At his command, Meredith transfigured the vase into bizarre things such as a mud tree, an ice cat, a wooden ball, and a paper sword. She did it without much difficulty.

However, Meredith was stuck on shaping water. It was a challenge for her; she couldn’t get it to maintain a strict shape. Meredith vigorously and diligently focused her intent, wrangling the water and forcing it to stay within her magical intention. Her brow furrowed in concentration, and her body tightened as sweat dripped from her forehead from the strain of the magic and summer heat. She fought to keep the water from slipping from her mental grasp. Eventually, she slowly shaped intertwining bodies of water to create a helix, per Thomas’ directions.

Satisfied, Thomas said, “Very good. Transfigure it back into a normal vase.”

Meredith did so, the clay vase rolling gently on its side, then braced her hands against her knees as she caught her breath. She was so focused she hadn’t realized how hard she had pushed herself.

“It wasn’t blue.” Thomas corrected.

Meredith rolled her eyes and changed it back to its original clay, earthy color.

“It is time for our history and focus lesson.”

“I haven’t had to focus enough already?” Meredith asked exasperatedly.

Some semblance of a smile formed across Thomas’ toady lips.

Thomas instructed Meredith to launch the vase high into the air.

“Don’t let it smash into the ground!” Thomas bellowed after Meredith flicked her wand and sent the vase skyward.

‘Oh shit!’ Meredith thought as she searched the empty sky for the vase. A speck appeared in the vast blue sky. The vase came crashing down, and Meredith deftly whipped her wand and stopped it inches away from the ground.

“Again!”

Meredith did so and made sure to keep her eye on it.

“Which coven caused the drought of 1316?” Thomas quizzed her.

“Uh…” Meredith’s mind raced for the answer as she kept watch for the vase. “The Sun-Blood Sisters!”

“Correct!”

The vase came speeding down, and Meredith caught it again, a bit higher off the ground than the first time.

“Again!”

Meredith launched the vase.

“What root powder is used in an ulcer potion?”

The pair spent the rest of the lesson like that. Launch, answer, catch, repeat.

Then, Thomas decided to incorporate a bonus lesson. Meredith didn’t mind, but fatigue had set in. Thomas had her levitate multiple items—her broom, the vase, a large beetle, a massive maple leaf, a rake, and the potted quackberry bush from the garden—and manipulate them into waving, wafting flying patterns as he continued to quiz her. It wasn’t particularly straining; it was more mentally taxing than anything. But her wand arm began to tire after a while, and her shoulder ached.

By the time Thomas ended the lesson, the sky had turned orange from the setting sun. Nary a customer had visited that day, so the exhausted, thirsty, and hungry young witch’s lessons had gone uninterrupted for hours. With a swish of her wand, Meredith replaced all her training tools except the vase. She didn’t know where Thomas had retrieved it.

“You did well today,” Thomas croaked. “I know you’re tired, but pushing the limits of your physical and magical abilities leads to more growth. You’ll find over time that your magic will become more sustainable and stronger with practice.”

“Thank you for teaching me,” Meredith said sincerely as she holstered her wand.

“My pleasure,” Thomas replied. “I’ll see you inside. Don’t forget to memorize your healing spells and store some magic into your power gems before bed.”

“Ha!” Meredith laughed. “It’ll be just a trickle tonight!”

Another smile snaked across Thomas’ lips, then he and the vase vanished in a flash of purple haze.

Meredith walked around the house to the front of the shop and began her routine of locking up when she glanced at the sign hanging on the door. The exhausted and exasperated witch smacked her forehead and groaned. She had forgotten to flip the sign to “open.”