Page 76 of Self Studies
A single tear fell out of my eye as he turned and almost ran from me. I scrubbed my cheek. I wouldn’t let this happen, and I wouldn’t give up on Beryl. He needed to see the mage I saw every day.
I looked at my damp fingers.
Maybe I’d not woken up as different as I thought.
Opening my door with more force than necessary, I stumbled into my empty room. My lipstick-stained mattress met my gaze, and anger chased away my sadness.
Starting today, no one would walk on me. Not anymore. This little assigned space would be my haven. My bed, my stuff, my home wouldn’t be messed with again.
I found a piece of chalk amongst Roisin’s stuff and drew an oval around my bed. Along the outside of the oval, I started carefully drawing runes. The bright white of the chalk almost glowed on the dark stone.
Distantly I heard the deep bell mark time passing, but it didn’t interrupt my work.
Hours later, my back protested as I stood from my completed drawing. Turning on my phone, I panicked. I had fifteen minutes to get to my appointment with Doctor Roy. I needed to charge the runes before the Dealership could mess with them. Maybe, just maybe, my newfound confidence came from my new ability to use my magic.
I sank onto my bed.
When I’d been in the Sphérique, instead of reaching for my magic, I’d called out. Power pushed away from me instead of pulling in like the textbooks described. Magus Terra said magic consisted of will, need, and imagination. Sinking into my mage-trance, I pictured the floor around my bed growing. Tendrils, made of stone, snaked out to enclose my space in a dome of vines.
With a deep breath, I pushed out my will and asked my magic for what I needed. Heat kindled in my core, and moisture pooled in my undergarments. Power rushed through me and out into the room in a wave of dizzying lust.
I cracked open my eyes, honestly surprised to find the chalk runes completely untouched. Not even a crackling of power made them glow. I bit my lower lip. My inner walls clenched, and my nipples strained against my bra. I’d done something. But I didn’t know what.
After splashing cold water on my face to calm my pulsing libido, I took a final look at my failed experiment and rushed off to see my psychiatrist.
* * *
The same browns and blues of Doctor Roy’s office surrounded me. I sat on his more-comfortable-then-it-looked couch while he perched behind his half desk, his laptop under his fingers.
Despite the familiarity of the space and the situation, my pulse raced. I clung to the coffee table in front of me and shook.
“Relax,” Doctor Roy said, his voice soothing. “This is your safe space. This is why the Institute exists.”
I pushed off the table and laced my fingers together. I’d not attacked my fellow students, worse. I’d done the only thing I knew how. Transferred every bit of magic I had toward anything that had a pulse.
“Who did I transfer into exactly?” I asked.
“Only you can figure that out,” Doctor Roy said. “Unless, of course, you trust people to be honest.”
I shook my head and ran my fingers over the buzzed part. Instead of comforting me, it reminded me of everything I’d done wrong since waking up. “No, I don’t trust people.”
Roy sighed. “I wish that wasn’t the truth of life. In some ways, watching you learn about the real world is painfully dark.”
I barked out a laugh. “I spent the first nineteen years of my life being raped and used as a battery pack for someone else’s ambitions. Me realizing that people lie is painfully dark?”
Roy narrowed his eyes. “That’s the first time you’ve admitted you were raped, Aphrodite.”
I swallowed. “It didn’t feel like rape at the time...and honestly, it still doesn’t feel like it now.”
“And it doesn’t need to,” Doctor Roy said, turning back to his typing. “The human mind is incredible. It remembers things with the filters it needs to stay sane. But you must separate your master’s actions from yours. The first step is to stop blaming yourself for everything. Especially what Damon did to you.”
I focused on the wood of the coffee table in front of me.
Doctor Roy frowned but moved the conversation on. “Are you ready to watch the video?”
I took a deep breath, and my heart thudded in my chest. “I don’t have a choice.”
We’d spent the last forty-five minutes making sure I would understand what I watched.