WARLOCK?!

Trust

Chapter 9—Trust

I walked into the training room wearing my sack-like outfit. I approached Echo who had his back turned to me.

“Hey, why didn’t you wake me up this morning?” I wondered.

Echo scoffed. “Do I look like an alarm clock to you?” he asked, bitterly.

“Um, did I do something wrong?” I asked. “Or maybe you need caffeine. Do you want some coffee or something before we start?”

“Just start,” he commanded.

“Okay. What are we doing today?”

“Begin level two: form-shifting. We will start with that glass of water on the table in the middle of the room. Your objective is to freeze it into a block of ice.”

“Okay,” I replied, trying to focus on the water.

I stared at it intently and imagined it freezing. As if this were my first day of training, my mind wandered off. The water ended up becoming a slushy.

“That’s not ice,” Echo said.

“But it’s frozen. I almost—”

“Pathetic,” he spat.

“It’s close enough. I’ll just try again.”

“Close enough is not good enough!” he snapped.

“What is wrong with you? During our last lesson, you were so encouraging, and although you sort of lied to me, the way that you convinced me that I was levitating myself really helped my confidence. Why are you so angry this morning?”

“I need you to get things right the first time.”

“Nobody gets things right the first time,” I countered. “If they do, it’s simply luck.”

“Don’t tell me that you believe in luck. Now, I know you’re naïve.”

“Stop calling me naïve. I’m not an innocent child. My mind just—”

“Your mind goes in different directions, and it has affected your focus on your magic,” he said. “You don’t know whether to trust or to not trust. You don’t know if what you’re doing is risky or dangerous. You don’t know if you should give in to your emotions when witches and warlocks shouldn’t do such a thing.”

I watched as he clenched his fists and stared at the floor.

“Echo, are we still talking about me, or is there something you want to say?”

“I…” he trailed off and just looked at me.

“Echo, what’s wrong?” I asked, approaching him.

“Don’t step any closer,” he warned.

“Why?” I asked.

“Just—just continue your lesson. Please, try harder this time.”

“Alright,” I complied and headed back to the water glass.

The second try was still like a slushy, but I finally got it to freeze the third time. I tried my best to focus on everything that Echo threw at me. The next thing I was able to do was shrink the actual glass. The first time, though, the water came spilling out. Only the glass shrunk. Around the fifth try, I successfully minimized the amount of the water as well. The last thing I learned for the day was how to make a rubber ball turn into a rubber cube.

“You are finished for the day,” Echo told me. “You’ve done an adequate job.”

“Adequate? Fair enough,” I replied, heading out the door.