The Limits of Magic

Tirisa wandered the forest, using the high canopy the trees provided to shelter her from the endless rain. She had been traveling for weeks now. She couldn’t tell where she was, she just remembered which way took her further into the forest, and which way took her back to the ruins of her village. 

The Durthai had stopped pursuing her only a week in, leaving her to eventually die in the forest, alone. But if the stories that the people in the village told were to be true, then she wasn’t truly alone in this forest. In fact, she couldn’t be any safer if there really was a witch. 

That’s why Tirisa didn’t turn back. Deep in the infinite green of the forest, there lived a witch, and good or evil, she could teach the girl magic. Magic that can be used to revive the people of her village. Magic to bring her back to what was once her normal. 

So she kept trudging through wet sticks and leaves, climbing atop rocks and trees to see any sign of residence in the forest. But every time, she just saw the forest growing deeper within itself. No witch. No hut made from stone and straw, no wooden gate fashioned too perfectly by an old woman living alone, and no wolf so large it couldn’t walk through the forest without alerting the trees of its presence. 

Despite the sun being hidden beneath the torrent of thunderstorms, Tirisa knew that if she could see the sunlight, it would be fading for another day had come to an end. She saw a place where the trunk of a tree opened up at the bottom, and though it wasn’t big, it was big enough for her to spend the night in. So she grabbed a couple leaves and cleared the darkness out of any insects and vermin that had decided to make it their home, and then promptly laid in the dark indention in which she fell asleep. 

Tirisia was used to the sound of the rain. It rarely stopped, so when it did, it immediately sent her body up straight, causing the top of the tree to meet the top of her head in a clash of space. Tirisa rubbed the section of her head that now pounded while looking outside to see if the rain had stopped. 

What she saw, however, was not what she expected.

Directly in front of the tree, now stood two legs. They wore black shoes with golden buckles and a large heel, and white stockings that seemed to rise all the way up their legs. And the rain no longer fell where they stood. 

The girl was hesitant in climbing out of the tree, but a voice soon came from where those legs stood. In a soft voice that surely belonged to the person standing in front of her, Tirisa heard, “This is really not the place I would have expected to find a young girl such as yourself.” A hand then came down towards the hole with its palm outstretched towards the sky, seemingly offering Tirisa protection. “Come,” She continued, “Let us bring you to a place where you really belong.”

Tirisa hesitantly took her hand and brought her into the gray light of the day. The young girl looked up and squinted, the sudden light causing her to temporarily go blind. Once her vision was restored, however, she saw her new companion.

It was a woman with silver hair who was holding a crimson umbrella to go with the purple dress with patterns embroidered in black thread on its edges that matched the color of her shoes. 

And she was young. No older than the new wives from her village. Skin still smooth and blue eyes the color that the sky supposedly was, she was obviously not an old witch. And this disappointed Tirisa.

“You’re not old,” Tirisa said, staring up at the woman.

She raised an eyebrow in response and then said, “Sorry to disappoint.” And with a snap of her fingers, her face changed to that of a cranky old woman, one who would have surely scolded Tirisa for any action taken. 

Tirisa gasped and pointed at the newly formed face. “You’re the witch!” She shouted, and then proceeded to raise her arms and jump up to try and touch the witches face to see if it felt like magic.

The witch knelt down and let the girl grab her cheeks, in an almost reverse way of how her relationship was with the real old people back in her village. Tirisa giggled as she stretched the witch's face, and then took her hands back when she had tested the strength of magic herself. 

The witch snapped again and her face went back to the young and pristine way it was before, and Tirisa giggled again. The witch smiled in return and said, “Now let us move. Not even the rain can be defeated with magic.”

A low rumble came from behind Tirisa and she turned to see two beady eyes staring directly at her, which then pulled away to reveal the massive form of the silver and gray wolf that the witch called her own. 

Tirisa jumped back and let out a little squeal, but she covered her mouth as to make sure the wolf did not grow to be alarmed. 

The witch laughed at Tirisa’s display and said, “Fear not young one, for this is my loyal wolf Syanna, and she will not harm even a leaf.” She then outstretched her hand and into the rain to reach the towering animal, in which it knelt its head to meet her gloved hand. “Now you try,” She said, motioning for Tirisa to follow her movements. 

Hesitantly, Tirisa also stretched out her hand and once again felt the rain, but this time that rain met with the soft gray fur of Syanna, who now nestled her head into Tirisa’s palm.

“She likes you,” the witch said, softly giggling to herself. Tirisa couldn’t help but smile as the wolf leaned into her own hand. This was all so surreal, it made her forget the ruins of her village that were only a week's walk away, now drowning beneath the rain, no fires to warm it, and no people to save it.

Except for her.

Tirisa removed her hand from Syanna’s cheek and looked towards the witch. “Ms. Witch?” She asked, scrunching the sides of her clothes into her fists, trying to work up the courage to continue the question. 

The witch looked at her inquisitively and said “Yes, young one?”

“Can you teach me magic?”

The witch looked at Tirisa, seemingly studying her, then looked towards her pet and shrugged her shoulders. “Well, I don’t see why not. It won’t be easy, though.” She said, bringing her gaze back towards Tirisa. “I have taken on a lot of apprentices, and most have left me in search of something easier.”

“That’s okay!” Tirisa replied eagerly. “I need magic, so I’ll do whatever it takes.” 

“Alright then,” the witch said, picking Tirisa up and placing her on the back of Syanna. “Let us get started then. No time like the present.” She then followed up and sat behind Tirisa, placing an arm around her waist to steady her body and one hand still holding the crimson umbrella. 

Syanna began walking and the witch waved her arm, causing the view in front of them to shimmer like skipping a rock over a pond. Syanna turned her body so the witch was within arms reach of the wavering forest, and with a tap of her middle finger, the view shattered like a brick hitting glass and revealed the tall wooden sign that signaled there was a person who lived there. 

The wolf carried them through the gate and into the home of the witch. It was a simple place. There was a hut in the middle, and it was made out of stone and straw, with a chimney leaking smoke out. To the left of the house was a simple garden seeming to grow a variety of fruits and vegetables, and to the right, there was a pile of leaves that Syanna went to lay in shortly after letting the witch and Tirisa down back onto the forest floor. 

Surrounding the area was a simple wooden fence that was no taller than Tirisa was, growing from the main gate and encapsulating the witch's home. Tirisa looked around in awe at the fact that such a thing could be hidden so well in the forest. She may have never found it on her own. 

The witch noticed her impressed state and moved to open the wooden door of the hut. “Come, apprentice,” She said, officially marking Tirisa as her next student, “You haven’t seen anything yet.” 

Leaving those words behind, the witch stepped through the doorway to her home, and Tirisa followed. She walked in and immediately was taken aback. The hut on the outside was once again an illusion. As when Tirisa looked up, it was obvious to anyone with eyes that this was more than a hut.

Far above the young girl tiled many floors, all spiraling up. Each floor seemed to be roughly the size of the area the wooden fence on the outside encapsulated. Tirisa couldn’t wrap her head around the size of this place. And if this was possible, surely her goals with magic were too.

The witch summoned a staircase to stretch down to the room they were in, and the pair followed its steps upward into a smaller room, but still fairly sized. In it, there was a bed, a table, some candles, a desk, and an assortment of bookshelves. On the desk sat a massive book as tall as a flower, and the witch walked over to it.

“This,” She began, patting the book, causing dust to fly off of it, “will be your first lesson. It is the basics of magic and fundamental to your journey. Read it carefully and thoroughly.” 

Tirisa wasted no time in walking over and beginning to read. The witch smiled at this and left her to her studies, telling her dinner would be ready in a few hours. 

And thus began Tirisa’s journey to witchhood. It would take years and many, many hours of intense focus and practice. But it would all be worth it when she’s finally strong enough to bring her village back to life.

Tirisa began to spend days reading. Luckily the witch was usually close enough to help Tirisa with any difficult ideas or words that she couldn’t nail down. Anyone can become a mage if they wanted to. Humans are all born with dormant magical power that, if trained, can grow over time, almost like a muscle. But each person is different, so the way they hone and find their magic will be different as well. 

One day, as Tirisa was trying to focus on her soul and where her magic lies, the witch watched her from a nearby chair, waiting for any chance to offer advice or pointers to the young girl. But sitting there, the witch had a question of her own she wanted to ask.

Tirisa flopped down in a chair, breathing heavily after a long time spent drawing upon the deepest parts of herself. The witch poured her a glass of water and brought it over to the chair where Tirisa sat. “You’re doing good,” she said, “The deeper you go into the soul, the higher the chance of finding that source of magic.”

“Thank you, master,” She replied through repeated breaths. She took the glass of water and gulped it down like a drain. “I’ll get it eventually.”

“That you will,” she said. The witch was surprised at the girl's dedication. It’s been two years since she came and has still not even casted a single flame. That’s normal for learning magic, but most aspiring magicians expect to be burning forests within the first year. But it wasn’t that easy. And this thought process led to the witch’s question, “Why do you try?” She asked.

“Pardon, master?”

The witch pulled up a chair to sit directly across from her student. “Most people quit before ever reaching the point you have, so why?”

“Oh, well,” Tirisa started, “For what I want to do, it surely cannot be possible without magic.”

The witch nodded and said, “Then that goal must be something truly great.” She knew everyone had their reasons for studying magic. Whether that’s to be a great warrior or to be a dependable healer, the reasons for embarking on this journey were varied. But the witch believed that the reasons were personal matters, and it was not her business to know. A good teacher will ensure that her students use their knowledge for good, and that magic can help people see the beauty of the world. 

Tirisa stood back up with the same determination she’s held these past two years and moved to her spot once again, trying to draw on her mana deep within the soul.

Her teacher stood with her and moved right next to her, so her student could have a reference image and try what her teacher was trying. Though it may not actually do a lot as this part is completely up to the mage themself, there is always the chance it might help in unseen ways.

Tirisa closed her eyes and began to focus. She looked within all parts of herself. The part that loved the constant rain falling from the sky, the part that hated the Durthai for what they did, the part that missed the people in her village, and the part of her that really did love magic. Though her eyelids were closed, she began to see something.

In the darkness of herself, she saw different colored lights. There were dark blue rings pulsating around a warm green glow, almost like it was protecting them. She visualized herself walking up to them and placing her hand against them, tapping her middle finger like her master did so long ago.

The blue rings shattered, revealing the green glow to be a simple flower growing in a field. She walked towards the flower, it had white petals and a yellow center. She didn’t pick it up, instead, she sat down in front of it and cupped her hands around it. She wasn’t covering it, but almost hugging it in a way.

Tirisa had no idea what this was or what she was seeing, but it was farther than she had ever gotten before, so she kept going despite not knowing where to go. She just let her heart take her to the next place. 

With her hands cupped around the flower, she then wrapped her whole body around it, taking the flower within her heart. She felt it begin to grow inside of her and then she opened her eyes. With a burst of wind, Tirisa’s now returned sight revealed to her a field of flowers that had somehow grown in the wooden room. No, not somehow. Magic.

Tirisa was in shock at this sight, but she was brought out of it by her teacher running and picking her up in a massive hug, screaming with delight. “You did it, you did it!” She repeated over and over again. “You brought life to this room, Tirisa!”

A wide smile broke through her lips and Tirisa screamed with joy as well. They both ran through the flowers and stepped lightly so as to not crush any. “I made life, master!” She said, “I can finally do what I’ve always wanted.”

The witch stopped dancing with Tirisa and stood in place, clearly worried. “What do you mean?” She nervously asked.

“My village!” Tirisa happily replied, “I can bring my village back to life!”

With clenched fists, the witch approached her student wearing a pained expression. Tirisa noticed this, and the flowers slowly began to fade. 

“Oh, Tirisa, with magic you can create life. But you cannot return it. I am sorry.”

Tirisa, wide-eyed, asked her teacher, “So… I can’t revive them? They’re really never coming back?”

The witch nodded hesitantly, and Tirisa burst from the room and down the stairs, her master calling after her as all the flowers in the room faded.

Tirisa ran through the home and out the door into the woods, startling Syanna. She fell to her knees at the wooden gate and let the rain pour down her face as she stared into the endless wood. 

She began to cry, her tears seeming heavier than the rain ever did. Her master soon followed and knelt by Tirisa in the rain. No umbrella, no magic, just the two letting the rain join them together. 

“They’re gone!” Tirisa cried, “My friends, my family. I can’t save them, I can’t help them, I can’t even see them!”

The witch laid a tender hand on her back. “I am sorry, Tirisa. I did not mean to lead you on with false hope. Magic is powerful, dangerously so, but there are some things even magic cannot do.” She was crying now too. “And though magic cannot save what was,” She said, tears breaking her voice, “It can save what will be. And that is our job, to make sure this world never has to go through what we did.”

Tirisa sobbed into the arms of her master, and together they cried in the rain. Not even magic being able to stop the tears life gives you. 

Eventually, Tirisa began her pursuit of magic once again. Though bearing a crushed dream, she now held a new one. And eventually, she would set out on her own journey, one that would end in the extinction of the Durthai, and hopefully bring peace to that green soul of hers.