Great Blue Balls of Fire

Last night into the groove back I was, yesss, urrummmm.  Or something like that:  it’s always fun to Yoda-up something into complete nonsensical gibberish first thing in the morning, because that’s usually how your mind is working anyway, so go with the flow I say.  It’s easy.

Hit the floor running with nearly a thousand words again.  It probably wold have been more, but I had a couple of paragraphs where I first wrote it out, didn’t like it, rewrote it, still wasn’t happen, and wrote again.  There were a few of the passages with magic that I totally didn’t care for first time around, so they got the polish before I moved on.  I know, you’re not suppose to do that:  you can suck when you write your first draft.  Except I try to keep the suck to a minimum before it becomes my first draft, so I go back over things while I’m writing and make this less sucky.

It works for me, but I’d never tell anyone to change their way of writing.  Keep on keeping with what you do, folks.  Just keep filling pages with words.

But before the magic, Annie had to know why Kerry thought she could pull off the spell.  And . . .

 

(All excerpts, this page, from The Foundation Chronicles, Book One: A For Advanced, copyright 2013, 2014, by Cassidy Frazee)

“Because . . .” Kerry knew he couldn’t say anything without giving a reason that made sense. “You’re better than me.”

Annie wanted to chuckle, but she saw Kerry was completely serious. “How am I better?”

“You just are.” He struggled for the words to express what he wanted to say. “Not just in magic, but you’re more clear, more even tempered—look how you figured out things in class today. That’s one of the things makes you a good witch.”

There was something Kerry was leaving unsaid; Annie felt his nervousness, saw the way he fidgeted. “There’s more?”

“Um—”

“Yes?” She softened her tone, hoping to relax her soul mate. “You can always tell me anything.”

He raised his hands as if he expected something to fall into them at any moment before letting them flop to his side. “You’re, um, more . . .” He mumbled the last word. “Loving.”

Annie’s hand slowly slipped off her hip. “I’m not any more loving than you, Kerry.”

“You know how to express yourself better.” He turned away, blushing. “I’m just—”

She lifted her heart locket so he could see it clearly. “The one who thought of something nice for my birthday. The one who had it engraved with our names and ‘With Love’. The one who’d never bought a present for a girl in his life, and surprised me with this.” She lay it against her skin. “No, Kerry: you know how to be loving in your own way.” Her grin was slight but full of happiness. “Don’t ever think you’re not.”

He nodded slowly with his head slightly lowered and his gazes centered on Annie’s shoes. “Okay. I won’t.”

“Kerry—” As when they were on the mat earlier in the morning, he looked up when Annie spoke his name. “I love you. You—not an image of who I think you are. Never, ever forget that.”

 

Awww, now we know what he engraved on that locket.  He’s so adorable in his clumsiness.

Now that you’ve got the lovey-dovey stuff out of the way, best getting to magicing, Annie:

 

Annie took two deep breaths and released them completely, clearing her mind and cleansing her body. She closed her eyes and focused on the vision she was creating in her head. She saw everything clearly: the room, the shelves, the fire pit, the wood—Kerry, herself. Annie had it in her mind—

Now to add something else.

She raised her hands next to her head and began pushing energy into the air above the fire pit. Annie began crafting a sphere at about chest-high over the pit, working the energy she pulled from mystic space into the form she desired. She didn’t worry about levitating the sphere: her willpower was enough to anchor it in within physical space. The energy began to take physical shape as a small ball and quickly grew into a swirling mass of gray, brown, and red sixty centimeters across. She’d built the base—now to give her creation life.

As this was sorcery, Annie needed to feed the spell dark energy. She reached out as if to grab her magical ball and pulled deep into the space where the dark energy resided. She pulled upon this power and forced it to flow through her fingertips and into the sphere. She saw the sphere change color, taking on a dark purple shade. It’s all there; it’s ready . . .

Annie pushed her will into the sphere, forcing it to match the vision in her mind. For a moment nothing happened, then the sphere contracted slightly before flaring with an soft whoosh into a bright blue ball of writing fire.

She sighed as she slumped onto her right leg. She started shaking her hands, sighing louder this time. “There it is.”

Kerry took two steps towards the floating blue ball. “That’s cold fire?”

“Yes, it is.” She joined Kerry in admiring her work. “It’s so—”

“Perfect?”

She chuckled. “I was going to say ‘beautiful’, but I’ll take perfect, too.” She ran her hand near the sphere, centimeters over the surface. “It is perfect, isn’t it?”

“I’d expect nothing less from my Dark Witch.” Kerry placed his hand next to the fire. “It feels icy.”

“It’s suppose to. The exterior is cool to the touch, but stick your hand just a few centimeters inside—” She pulled hers away. “It’s probably one hundred fifty, two hundred centigrade there. You’d burn yourself severely.”

 

See?  Leave it in a ‘fridge disguised as a blue bottle of beer, someone reaches for it, reaches through it–two thousand degrees centigrade, you burn their hand right off.  The fun you can have with magic!  And in this world, cold fire is something you could kill a person with:  Annie’s little fire ball could easily be used against a bad guy if she knew how to throw it, and if she could hit her target.

Nice to know you have twelve year old kids running around this school who can kill people with cold fireballs.  Then again, Annie did says she’s studied something known in sorcery as Exsanguination, which is listed in my spell list lexicon as category “Sorcery (Morte)”–Morte being a death spell–and is described as, “Causing a person to bleed out for various body openings.”  Like nearly every pore in your body.  Usually fast.  Usually until you stop bleeding due to lack of blood.

Not to mention they were clubbing zombies with air enhanced wooden sticks and splitting skulls and bodies in half.  So . . . what’s the over-under on them completely losing their shit and going on a thrill-kill run through the city of Salem?  Just kidding:  they’d never do that.

Not that others wouldn’t . . .

How did I ended things last night?  Like this:

 

Kerry was next to her, playing with a lock of her hair. “You need a rest?”

“No.” She ran her fingers over his wrist. “I feel great.” She leaned into his hand. “You going to help me with this?”

“I think I know what you need—but can we work together like that?”

Annie had explained the concept of working together to craft a spell many times in the last couple of days. She knew this part would go faster—and probably turn out better—if Kerry were helping her craft the spell. “We’ll do fine, love.” She pointed to the other side of the fire pit. “You know what to do.”

He nodded then got into position. “Ready when you are.”

“All right.” She waved a hand at the bucket. “Here we go . . .”

 

More magic!  Let’s go, let’s go!

And keep those fireballs to yourselves.

It's hard enough coming up with this stuff without having to worry about magical kids trying to kill me.

It’s hard enough coming up with this stuff without having to worry about magical kids trying to kill me.