The sun had climbed and fallen halfway across the sky, painting the clearing in soft gold and shadows. Sweat glued my hair to my forehead. My breathing came in short gasps. I had been at it since morning, trying to move that one stubborn stone.
It sat there, still and unmoving, like it was laughing at me.
"Again," I whispered to myself, stretching out my hand. "Come on, move... just move."
I closed my eyes, remembering Lira’s words: Don’t focus on the rock. Focus on yourself.
I took a deep breath and let my mind go quiet. I could hear the wind moving through the trees, the distant hum of the river, and the gentle crackle of the fire near Lira’s hut. I tried to draw that calm inside me. I pictured the power she said was within me, a flame deep in my chest, waiting to be touched.
My eyes flew open. "Lira! Did you see that? It moved! It actually moved!"
Lira, who was sitting nearby grinding herbs in a bowl, looked up and smiled softly. "I saw it. That’s good, Lisa."
"Good?" I gasped, laughing. "It moved again! That’s great!"
She chuckled, wiping her hands on her skirt. "You’ve moved a pebble, not a mountain. Don’t lose focus just yet."
I pouted, folding my arms. "You’re not even a little proud of me after many trials?"
"Oh, I am," she said with a kind smile. "But if I praise you too soon, your head will grow bigger than your power."
I laughed, shaking my head. "You’re cruel."
I turned back to the rock. "Alright, let’s try again."
For the next hour, I kept at it, calling, focusing, breathing, trying. Sometimes it moved a little. Sometimes it didn’t move at all. Every success made me excited. Every failure made me grit my teeth harder.
By afternoon, my fingers trembled from exhaustion. My head pounded. I felt drained, but something in me refused to stop.
Lira stood, watching me closely. "You’ve done enough for today. Rest a little, Lisa."
"No," I said, shaking my head. "I can feel it now, Lira. I just need a bit more time."
She frowned slightly. "You’re overusing your strength. Magic is like a river; it flows best when calm, not when forced."
"I know," I said quickly. "But I’m close. I can feel it inside. Just one more try."
Lira sighed and sat back down. "You are exactly like your mother," she muttered under her breath.
I looked at her. "What do you mean?"
"She never listened either," Lira said, her tone soft, full of old memories. "Once she set her mind on something, she would chase it until she bled."
I smiled faintly. "Then I guess I’m her daughter after all."
"Yes," Lira murmured. "That’s what I’m afraid of."
I blinked, confused, but she waved her hand dismissively. "Go on. Try again, stubborn girl."
I grinned and turned back to the stone. My whole body ached, but I ignored it. I stretched my hand out again and whispered, "Move."
"Move!" I said louder, anger rising in my voice.
I screamed this time, frustration bursting through me. "Why won’t you move?!"
The air around me shifted. The ground trembled. The stone flew off the ground, not just lifted, but shot into the air and exploded into dust.
Lira jumped to her feet. "Lisa!"
I stood frozen, panting, staring at where the rock had been. The air was still humming, wild with energy. My heart raced. "I... I didn’t mean to do that."
Lira walked over, her eyes wide but calm. "You didn’t control your power. You let your emotion lead it."
I swallowed hard, guilt flooding me. "I didn’t want to destroy it. I just wanted it to move."
She touched my shoulder gently. "And that’s the lesson. You can’t let anger fuel your magic. You have to guide it, not fight it."
I nodded slowly, breathing heavily. "It’s just... hard. Every time I feel close, it slips away."
"That’s because you’re trying to win against yourself," Lira said softly. "But your gift isn’t something to win. It’s something to understand."
Her voice was calm, almost motherly, and it made my eyes sting with tears.
"I want to do better," I whispered. "I want to be strong like you. Like my mother."
"You will," she said, brushing a strand of hair from my face. "But strength takes time. Even the moon doesn’t shine at once. It grows."
The words settled deep in my heart. I took a slow breath and nodded. "Alright. Again."
Lira looked shocked. "Again? You just almost blew up a rock!"
"I know," I said, smiling weakly. "That means I’m improving."
She groaned, shaking her head. "Stubborn, stubborn child."
But she didn’t stop me.
As the day stretched on, I tried again and again. Some stones lifted, some refused to move. Sometimes the wind stirred, sometimes nothing happened at all. The sun sank lower, painting the sky orange and red. My hands trembled. My knees felt weak.
"Lisa," Lira said quietly. "That’s enough." Thɪs chapter is updated by Nove1Fire.net
"Just one more," I whispered, sweat dripping down my face.
"Your body can’t handle more," she said firmly. "You’ll hurt yourself."
Lira stepped closer, concern deep in her eyes. "Why are you pushing so hard? Who are you proving this to?"
I stopped. The question hit me like a wave. Who was I proving it to?
I swallowed. "To myself," I whispered. "To the girl who was always scared. The one who never belonged anywhere. I just... I want to believe I can do this."
For a moment, Lira said nothing. Then she smiled, soft and sad. "You already can, Lisa. You’re just too busy chasing proof to see it."
When I finally pulled back, she wiped my face with her sleeve. "Now," she said softly, "you’ll rest. Tomorrow, we’ll continue. But tonight, you’ll let your body heal."
I hesitated but nodded slowly. "Fine. But just for tonight."
She smiled faintly. "Good. Because if you faint again, I’m not carrying you this time."
That made me laugh weakly, and she laughed too.
As we walked back to the hut, the first stars appeared in the sky. The air was cool and quiet, the forest whispering around us. I glanced back once at the clearing, at the scattered stones.
For the first time, I felt proud.
Inside the hut, Lira handed me a cup of water and sat by the small fire. "You don’t have to push yourself, Lisa," she said.
I blinked. "But I want revenge!"