Page 14 of Sun and Stone (Elementally Yours #5)

14. Together on Shaky Ground

Hand in hand, Fynn and I stand in front of the testing building on a Tuesday morning. Neither of us make a move to go inside.

"Do we have to go in?" I ask, even though I know the answer.

“Unfortunately, yes.” Fynn says with a sigh. “There were things I missed about magic, but this wasn’t one of them.”

"Making a run for it is still an option," I suggest helpfully.

"No, it isn’t."

I tug on Fynn’s hand to drag him along with me, but he doesn’t budge. Alright, time for plan B.

“What if a huge boulder inexplicably barrels through the lobby of the testing office?”

"Someone could get hurt!" he protests immediately.

"No one is in the lobby right now. A freak accident means we’d have to reschedule."

"What if you use a tremendous amount of energy laying the testing center to waste and push yourself too far magically? Who will you turn to for help?"

With my luck, that would happen. I’d destroy the testing center and then be on my own when needing the experts at the center to heal me.

Of course, I wasn’t really going to send rocks crashing through the place. It’s just nice to imagine a scenario where we don’t have to go in there and learn how screwed we are.

I sigh. “You’re really raining on my parade here.”

"Sorry. I’m usually good at thinking of bright sides."

People have to walk around us while we hesitate in the middle of the sidewalk. The testing center isn’t going anywhere no matter how hard we stare at it and will it to disappear.

"Got any bright sides?" I wonder after a few seconds.

"Yes. You’re lucky you aren’t me."

I laugh, not expecting the black humor from him. “You’re sweet, I think? But I don’t want to feel good about your misfortune.”

"Go ahead. I’d rather someone get some good from my situation."

Fynn was in The Danger Zone when he stopped using magic regularly. He postponed the inevitable, though using magic again puts him right back where he started. Taking potions to prolong the end, trying to buy time so he doesn't reach the Point of No Return, when his sun token will break and it becomes do or die.

At 46-years-old, he’s technically in worse shape than me, but... I’ve seen his magic react strongly. And I’ve been feeling weaker. I'm not sure which one of us is truly worse off.

I let him try to cheer me up. We share a kiss, and he squeezes my hand. I squeeze back. Taking strength from each other, we go inside.

Testing sucks. But it's a little easier when I have someone next to me. I'm not alone. We're going through this together.

Of course, nothing is easy 20 minutes later.

"Almost done," says the man holding a stopwatch and watching me.

"Easy for you to say," I pant.

In a cold, clinical room, I’m hooked up to wires and sent running on a treadmill like a lab rat. I didn't think of myself as particularly in or out of shape, but I certainly feel like the world's unhealthiest person after running for 15 minutes at the highest speed I can handle and becoming a sweaty, panting mess.

The timer beeps, and the treadmill slows its pace. It gradually comes to a stop, and I jump off. The wires and electrodes attached to my body monitor my vitals, sending data to the machines lining the walls of this clinical testing room.

I'm drenched in sweat, my lungs burning as I gasp for air at the end of my endurance test.

Of course, this is only the first half of the test. The real challenge comes next.

The tester, a no-nonsense man with large square glasses and a thick brown mustache makes a note on his clipboard.

"Create obsidian," he tells me.

Damn. Who pissed in his coffee this morning? "Really? You go right to obsidian?"

"Can you do it or not?"

Concentrating, I feel the rock token hanging around my neck heat up. Holding my hands up, I concentrate on the space between them, trying to make the requested material from scratch. I start sweating—well, I don’t usually jog for 15 straight minutes—so I start sweating more.

Obsidian. Volcanic glass created by cooling lava.

I close my eyes, focusing inward, reaching for the earth magic that simmers beneath the surface. I visualize the molten rock, the intense heat and pressure deep within the earth. With a deep breath, I channel that energy, willing it to manifest.

Creating rock or any material from nothing but your own power is always more of a challenge than manipulating an existing material, so exercises like this let the assessors measure us better.

A small bead of black glass forms, growing larger as I pour more of my magic into it. The obsidian glistens, sharp and jagged, as I open my eyes to examine my creation.

The tester steps closer and nods, making more notes. I wonder how Fynn's fairing with his own tests.

It’s unsettling as I wait for the tester to finish writing secret observations about me. My patience runs out before he's done writing.

"Did I pass?" I wonder.

"There’s no passing or failing," he grunts. "My job isn’t to give you a shiny gold star. I’m here to keep you alive and preferably in one piece."

“Just asking.” Tough crowd. The woman I met with last time was so much nicer. We bonded over shoes.

"Let me ask the questions," he says. “Is there anything you’d like to report?”

"Uh… no?"

"Are you sure?" He stares evenly. It’s like he’s waiting for me to confess something.

"Can you give me a hint?"

"You’re aware that we only give potions to those who comply with testing and reporting?"

"What did my results show?"

His mustache twitches as he makes a note on his clipboard. I think that mustache twitch means annoyance. He doesn’t respond. But he clearly isn’t impressed with me.

He thinks I’m hiding something? And I doubt I'll be able to charm him into telling me whatever he’s picking up on. He seems totally immune to charm of any kind. That must be what happens when you have none.

Hopefully Fynn is having better luck than me.

“I’m doing fine,” I say. “I’m not even in The Danger Zone yet.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’m only 42. I was on annual testing until now.”

He consults the pages in front of him. Then he looks back up and stares some more. Still waiting with his pen hovering above his clipboard, watching me suspiciously.

"My only side effect is fatigue, no magical side effects, I swear."

He sighs. “Then I guess we’re done here."

The man starts furiously scribbling down more notes. Doubt whatever he’s writing is good.

Ugh, too bad meeting the woman from last time wasn't an option. Since I’m the nebulous area between ‘probably screwed’ and ‘definitely screwed,’ another assessor needs to confirm the same results.

I have to get on this man’s good side. No, that sounds impossible. But maybe I can convince him I’m telling the truth.

"Look, I came here with my boyfriend,” I add. “If you don’t believe me, you can ask if he’s seen any magical side effects."

"You think your boyfriend will tell me the truth?"

Fynn doesn’t strike me as a disloyal person but in this instance? "He'd sell me out in a heartbeat. My boyfriend likes me and doesn’t want me to hurt myself, so yes, he’d probably think I was an idiot if I lied, and he would protect me for my own good.”

That’s the kind of annoying thing you do for those you care about. Even if it pisses them off.

The man’s mustache twitches. No surprise there, that’s the most reaction he ever shows. But then it begins to…lift?

"…my partner would do the same thing," he admits.

He smiles. Apparently, Mr. Mustache can smile. Even though he’s not in the room, my boyfriend still helps me out. The tester believes that I’m telling the truth once I offer him a witness and warms up a bit after that.

The rest goes more smoothly. Fynn turns out to be the gift that keeps on giving.

~

After the dreariness of the testing center, it’s time for a change. Today is a beautiful day to make some magic.

"This campus is so beautiful," Fynn says. "We should come here more often."

"We should hang out where I go to school?" I ask doubtfully.

"What, is that not a very romantic date idea?"

No, but I can't say I mind. He's been here before, though he's a lot more relaxed this time.

I lean back against the rough bark of the towering oak tree, soaking in the peaceful ambiance of Primrose's sprawling campus. Students stroll along the winding paths, chattering and laughing, the warm golden sunlight filtering through the lush green leaves above us. It's a gorgeous late spring day, the kind that makes you never want to never set foot inside a stuffy classroom again.

And Fynn always looks particularly radiant out in the sun.

We're in the tree's shade now, but Fynn's big smile and his bright eyes darting around as he takes it all in make him look particularly boyish and fetching. A gentle breeze ruffles Fynn's chestnut curls, and I resist the urge to tuck an errant strand behind his ear.

Drawing my eyes away from the campus, I focus on Fynn. "Are you ready to get started?"

Fynn leans forward and gives me a peck on the lips, his eyes sparkling with excitement. "Absolutely."

I grin at his enthusiasm, feeling just as excited as him. While we performed a cleansing ritual together, this is the first time we get to just have fun and cast together. I'm eager to see what we'll create.

"Okay, then let's do this." I gesture to the small glass display case set between us, a small terrarium. "This is where we'll be working our magic, quite literally."

Fynn leans in, peering intently at the glass container. "I've never done this exercise before. What's the goal here?"

"We're going to work together to grow a miniature landscape inside this terrarium. The goal is to use two primary elements to create a desired environment. Using our respective earth and sun magics, we'll shape the terrain and create or grow all the components we need."

It’s pretty simple. We’re acting as gardeners or landscapers. Except we’re using magic as our tools.

"Wow." He looks at me with an excited grin. "What should we make?"

The possibilities feel endless.

"A lush jungle, an arid desert landscape, a rugged mountain range," I list off some of the possibilities. "Let's see, putting together rock and sun magic means that harsh, barren environments will be the best fit." I can already picture sculpting craggy cliffs and parched, cracked earth, the sun beating down mercilessly.

"That's true…" But as I glance over at Fynn, he's frowning slightly, not looking enthused by this idea. Maybe the idea of a desolate, inhospitable scene doesn't quite match his sunny, vibrant personality.

"What are you thinking?" I ask.

"I was just picturing something a little more...lush."

My hands brush against the grass at my sides as I think. Inspiration strikes. "What if we create the environment around us inside the terrarium?"

"That's a great idea! I love that we can bring a little piece of Primrose's campus into this tiny space. We'll need lush, green grass, some towering oak trees like the one we're sitting under, and maybe a winding cobblestone path?"

"Definitely. You can cultivate the plant life and I'll shape the terrain." I grin. "We'll make a good team."

With a deep breath, I focus my energy and extend my hands over the glass terrarium. I feel the familiar tug of my earth magic as I start to shape the soil. Pockets of rich, dark earth take form, creating a sturdy foundation for the scene we're about to build.

The terrarium came with a few small blocks that we can use too. I take some of the green pieces and sprinkle them inside the glass dome.

"I was wondering why we had Legos." He picks up a few of the small pieces and examines them. Unlike Legos, they're smooth little rectangles without the bumps and gaps used to build structures.

"The goal is to use two primary elements to create a desired environment. The little blocks contain other types of elemental magic we may need to help us, like earth and water. They'll respond and take shape based on how we use our magic."

I've crafted these Lego-like blocks before, charging them with rock magic for others to use in their terrariums. It's a common work-study job for perpetual student casters like myself. A university like this has a million magical tasks available from creating materials for lessons to having water magic students water the lawns to save the school money on water bills, or electric casters lighting a nighttime football game.

This was never my favorite work, but I enjoy helping new students learn spells. Branded casters typically get TA jobs, which I might have pursued for work study if I could. I’ve always liked talking to people, and unlike customer service jobs with demanding customers, any struggles are worth it when a student masters a new skill and learns something.

Beside me, Fynn cups his palms together, a warm glow emanating from between his fingers. "Here we go."

Fynn's hands join mine against the glass. I feel his sun magic blend with my own, the combined power surging through us as we work in tandem to craft our little piece of Primrose.

The small green Lego-like pieces I've scattered across the dirt start to transform. They unfurl under Fynn's warm touch, vibrant blades of grass stretching up towards the sunlight.

"It's working!" Fynn exclaims, a delighted grin on his face as he continues to feed his magic into the terrarium.

With a flick of my wrist, small pebbles begin to emerge, gathering together to form a winding cobblestone path that cuts its way through the grassy landscape.

"Nice work." Fynn takes over, using more of the green pieces to coax more life from the soil. Small bushes sprout up, lining the path I created.

It's incredible, the way our magics blend and feed off each other, creating something new and vibrant.

"Okay, let's try something a little bigger," I say, rubbing my palms together. Focusing my magic, I start to build up sturdy mounds of earth, while he adds the right pieces so we can grow trees.

Getting closer to the glass and squinting, I can see the tiny roots that start erupting from the mounds of dirt. Beside me, Fynn's hands glow with warmth as we keep directing our magic inside the glass.

Slowly, sturdy trunks begin to emerge from the roots, growing taller by the second. Leaves sprout, though less than I expect, looking pale and limp.

Something feels...off.

"Whoa, watch the rocks, Per."

The rocks on the cobblestone path suddenly begin to tremble and lift off the ground, floating up towards the glass lid of the terrarium.

"Sorry, sorry!" Instinctively, I reach out with my magic, trying to pull the rocks back down to the earth. It takes a minute to wrangle the rocks until they slowly descend, settling back onto the path.

But the disturbance has only just begun.

The bright sunlight filtering through the glass suddenly intensifies, the rays burning and scorching the lush grass. Fynn's face twists in panic as he struggles to rein in his sun magic, but the energy has taken on a wild, uncontrolled edge. The punishing light sets a few patches of the grass ablaze.

"Fynn, pull it back!"

Smothering the fires with dirt solves one problem, though what remains are scorched marks on the little lawn.

These mini ecosystems require a delicate balance. We need to nurture everything just right and ensure our magic works together. If we aren't in sync, problems like this start cropping up.

The greenery inside the glass starts to wither. The leaves are shriveling, the grass turning brown and brittle. The trees are drooping, their branches sagging under an invisible weight.

"Our magic is clashing," I say.

"How do we fix it?"

"We need to work together."

We start casting together, the sunlight gentling while I concentrate on the terrain. Even as it resists, I pour more energy into getting it under control and obeying my command. It seems to work—then the earth trembles again.

With a rumbling groan, boulders burst forth from the soil, smashing through the delicate grass.

"Dammit!"

"It's not working," Fynn says beside me. "I'm trying to reign in the magic and let nature take its course. A gentle approach."

And there's the problem. "I'm doing the opposite. Using more magic and willing everything to settle and take the shape we desire."

"Should one of us change our approach?"

"Maybe that could work." Unless there's a larger issue. "Do we see magic differently?"

We click so well in every other regard. I assumed our approach to magic was the same too.

"How do you see magic?" he asks quietly. The sudden frown on his face worries me.

I shrug helplessly, suddenly feeling like I'm in the hot seat. "I do like casting and letting the element and I work in harmony, not trying to overpower it. But when something goes wrong, I take control. I want to do everything I can to make the situation right."

"But some things are out of our control," he offers gently.

"This isn't," I laugh, gesturing to our little failed experiment. "What happens in the terrarium is entirely up to us. We can get this right, dammit."

"We have different approaches," Fynn says, staring down sadly at our ruined landscape. "Actually, you kind of remind me of myself a few years ago."

I wince. "What is it you said about yourself back then? A desperate, obsessed cater?"

"No, that's not what I mean." His eyes rise to meet mine, filled with concern. "Just be careful. This time in a caster's life can bring out the worst in a person. I’d hate for it to happen to someone as wonderful as you."

Staring down at my hands, I can't look at him anymore. "I don't understand how you can be so calm. Why wouldn't you do everything it takes? This is our last chance. I have to do everything I can while there's still time. I don't understand how you walked away."

"Perry…"

Even now, I'm doing everything I can to gain magic. Fynn isn't. He may be trying to earn his brand again, but he isn't going back to school. This time around, he's making it fit in his schedule. I understand why it's the right choice for him, he loves his work and doesn't want to give it up and go back to being a student.

But I couldn't do what he's doing. Magic is the only important thing I have going on—or it was, until I met him.

"You know what?" I say. "Maybe we better call it a day."

How did spending a lovely day casting magic with my boyfriend go so wrong? I don't want to say anything else and make it worse.

And suddenly, almost like magic, there's nothing I can say.

I suddenly choke, unable to make a sound. Panic floods my chest as I clutch at my throat, which feels tight and clogged.

Fynn notices my distress. "Perry? What's wrong?"

My face turns red as I struggle to breathe, my chest heaving from the effort.

Fynn jumps to his feet, hovering over me uncertainly. "Can you breathe? Should I call for help?"

I open my mouth, and to both our shock, dirt and small rocks pour out, clattering onto the grass between us. Did I create them? They were stuck in my throat. I take deep breaths, panting on the ground. My throat feels raw, but I can finally draw air into my lungs again.

Fynn's face pales as he realizes what's happening. "Oh shit, Perry. This is bad. We need to get you to the medical center, now."

He grabs my arm, helping me to my feet. I sway unsteadily, still coughing up a few stray pebbles that had lodged in my throat. As we take our first wobbly steps, the ground beneath us suddenly trembles. We both stumble, and Fynn quickly reaches out to grab onto the sturdy tree trunk for support, keeping us both upright.

The shaking intensifies, rattling the branches overhead and causing other students in the quad to look around in confusion and alarm.

Oh no. I'm doing this. Not on purpose, but my powers… My magic is causing the tremors. Just like it caused the pebbles stuck in my throat.

My power gained a life of its own.

I realize exactly what's happening: I'm experiencing magical side effects. I'm officially in The Danger Zone.