"What you need is discipline," Lira added calmly, brushing her palms together as if dusting away invisible dirt.
I groaned. "Discipline? I’ve been sitting here for hours trying to move a rock. A rock, Lira. Not even a leaf or a feather, a rock!"
She chuckled lightly and walked around me in slow circles. "Do you think power comes to those who rest too soon? The mind is like fire; it burns brighter the more you feed it."
I sighed and leaned back on my hands. "Well, my fire is dying. I think it needs food. Or sleep. Or both."
Lira stopped in front of me and gave me a small, knowing smile. "You’re stubborn, just like your mother was."
That caught my attention. I looked up. "You keep saying that. Did she complain this much, too?"
"Worse," Lira said, laughing softly. "She once threw a whole bowl of herbs at me because she couldn’t control her flames. But she learned."
I smiled despite myself. "I guess that runs in the family."
"It does," Lira said fondly. "Now, sit straight. Just one more time. If it doesn’t work, we’ll stop for the day."
I narrowed my eyes. "Promise?"
She raised her right hand. "I promise."
"Fine," I said, pulling myself upright again. "But if I pass out, you’ll carry me."
"Fair enough," she said with a grin.
I took a deep breath and closed my eyes again, trying to push my irritation aside. The air was still and quiet now; even the birds seemed to be holding their breath. I could hear only my heartbeat.
"Good," Lira murmured. "Now remember what I told you, don’t command it. Feel it. The stone is not your enemy. It wants to listen. But you must speak softly."
Minutes passed. My concentration broke again. I opened my eyes, sighing in frustration. "It’s not moving anymore."
Lira smiled, completely calm. "Then you’ll try again."
I frowned. "I’ve already tried twice."
"And you’ll try a hundred times more if you must," she said softly. "Magic doesn’t grow through comfort. It grows through patience."
I crossed my arms and gave Lira a tired look. "You promised I’d try once," I said with a sigh. "I already tried more than that."
Lira smirked, tilting her head. "You tried, yes. But you didn’t succeed. There’s a difference, child."
I groaned. "You’re impossible."
She chuckled softly. "That’s what your mother said, too."
I glared at her playfully, then said, "Fine. Since you’re so great at this, why don’t you do it? Let me watch. Maybe I’ll learn faster that way."
Lira raised a brow, pretending to think. "You just want an excuse to rest."
"Maybe," I said with a grin, sinking back onto the grass. "But come on, show me how it’s done, great teacher."
She rolled her eyes dramatically. "Very well, lazy wolf. Watch closely. But if you blink, you’ll miss it."
I sat up a little, curiosity replacing my tiredness. "I’m watching," I said, leaning forward.
Lira’s expression softened, a faint, knowing smile tugging at her lips. She turned to face the small stone lying a few feet away, the morning light glinting faintly off its rough surface. She didn’t even close her eyes; she just raised her hand slightly, fingers relaxed, movements so graceful it almost looked like she was caressing the air itself.
For a brief second, nothing happened. Then, as if the world itself paused to obey her, the stone shivered. My breath caught. Slowly, no, effortlessly, it rose into the air. It hovered there, still and calm, suspended by nothing but her will. Then, with the faintest flick of her wrist, it drifted down again and landed soundlessly on the dirt.
My jaw dropped. "What...how...how did you do that so fast?" I stammered, eyes wide.
Lira smiled and brushed her palms together, as though she had just dusted off her skirt, not performed something impossible. "Practice," she said simply. "And patience."
I gaped at her. "Patience? That took, like, one second!"
She chuckled softly, eyes glinting like someone holding an ancient secret. "Yes, one second for you to see," she said. "But for me, that one second took years to earn. Years of getting it wrong. Years of stones that wouldn’t move, or would fly too far, or burst apart in my face."
I blinked, still trying to process it. "You mean... even you weren’t good at it once?"
Lira laughed gently. "Child, no one is born knowing how to command the earth. The difference between failure and mastery is patience and knowing that every mistake teaches the body what the mind refuses to learn. It took me years to learn all these."
I blinked, still staring at the stone as if it would explain itself. "Years?"
She nodded, kneeling beside me. "Magic, my dear, is like growing a tree. You don’t see the roots forming beneath the soil, but they’re there, holding everything together. You only see the beauty when it’s ready."
I frowned, pretending to pout again. "So you’re saying I’m still a seed?"
Lira chuckled. "A very stubborn seed. But one with great potential." Fınd the newest release on NoveI~Fire.net
I couldn’t help but laugh, too. "You make it sound like I’m about to grow branches."
"In time," she teased, "you just might."
I rolled my eyes but smiled, shaking my head. "You make it look so easy, though. When I try, I feel like my head’s going to explode."
"That’s because you’re still thinking like a wolf," she said gently. "Wolves act first, think later. Witches must think first, act second. Balance the two, and you’ll be unstoppable."
I looked at her, still amazed.
"So, you must stop doubting yourself."
I sighed, glancing at the stone again, its dull gray surface staring back at me like it was mocking me. "Easier said than done," I muttered, brushing the dust from my palms.
"Then don’t say it," Lira replied smoothly, a playful glint in her eyes. "Do it."
I couldn’t help but smile faintly, shaking my head. "You’re a hard teacher, Lira."
She folded her arms and tilted her head. "Only to the ones who are meant for greatness," she said, half-teasing but with a weight in her tone that made my chest tighten.
I looked at her for a long moment, wondering if she truly meant that, if she really saw greatness in me. Then I turned back to the stone. Her words echoed inside me, chasing away the frustration that had clouded my mind all morning. Then I didn’t feel like giving up.
"Alright," I said, straightening my back and drawing a steady breath. "Let’s try one more time."
Lira’s lips curved into a proud, almost motherly smile. "That’s the spirit. Now, focus, not on the rock, but on yourself. The power comes from within, not from around."