SPEED DRAWING: Wendell Learns Magic

Music: “Outside the Box” - by MS (© GnomeTone Records)

“Säko,” I whispered.

Blue light spread across my palms, thin threads weaving through the air like glowing silk. The sensation tickled. The hair on my arms stood at attention. I caught a faint scent: metal…like old batteries or the air after lightning.

“Good,” Chuck said, beaming. “Now, to move it outward, say the word…”

“Virtä.”

The sound of it rolled off my tongue like I’d been born knowing it.

In my palms, threads of electricity flickered to life. Soft blue arcs danced and crackled. No pain. Just a low, steady hum vibrating through my arms. It felt like I was holding lightning that…I know this sounds strange, but…as if it liked me.

I laughed under my breath.

You’re doing it, Wendell. You’re actually becoming a mägo.

“Perfect!” Chuck cheered, eyes glowing as bright as the magic between my fingers. “Now, once it feels like the energy’s a part of you, you can amplify it.”

“Using Teho, right?”

The moment the word left my mouth—CRACK—the bolt jumped. A fat arc of energy lunged toward my chin, and I flinched back, yelping.

“Whoa!”

Chuck raised an eyebrow. “Careful now. Elements have instincts. Electricity wants to be embraced. Fire is hungry. Wind? It wants to run. One slip in focus, and you’ll light yourself…or someone else…on fire.”

“Right, right—sorry.” I cleared my throat, cheeks burning. “Läkätä.”

The light faded. My hands pulsed with lingering energy, like the last ripple in a pond. I could still feel it on my skin, itching to escape.

“So how would you focus electrical energy?” I asked. “Same way as light?”

Chuck shook his head. “No. Mäjäkä pulls light to a center, but electricity—lightning—it doesn’t like to be contained. It needs direction, not control. You give it a destination and set it free.”

“So… not mäjäkä.”

“No. You use sälämä.”

I rubbed my palms together, still buzzing from the last spell. My inner geek was having a field day. Magic + electricity = awesome.

“Sälämä,” I whispered.

Mistake.

Sparks exploded between my fingers like bottle rockets. Two bolts shot off in opposite directions—one igniting a stack of books, the other knocking Chuck’s hat clean off his head.

But the main bolt?

It zig-zagged straight across the room and smacked into Höbin’s metal cot.

SHRAK!

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