The following week flew by in a whirlwind of events for Vyrion. He was finally taken from the room he’d grown to consider his cell, out of the familiar halls he walked every day, and through the double doors that had been guarded and kept off limits to him. Being escorted through the new hall, he and the two Ghosts took an elevator down to another floor. An awkward silence filled the small area, making the short trip feel longer than it was. As Vyrion’s mind filled with more questions about where he was being kept, he followed the two men clad in white to a new room. He was led past a few odd looking machines covered in an array of black screens and colorful buttons and dials and into the room he quickly came to learn was referred to as the training room.

The room was the same dull white color, just like everything else in this place. The only difference for this one room was the pattern; every few inches were solid black lines on the walls, ceiling, and floor that overlapped one another, creating a perfect repeating design of squares throughout the entire room. In the very center of every small square was a single small black dot.

 His first day there they locked the door behind him, and told him to try and manifest the magic he called forth on the unforgettable night that continued to haunt him. Unsure what to do exactly, the best he could manage was to remember the texts he had read in the past relating to some of the greatest Casters. Julian Rein, a master of the water element and inscription of bullets, he was always able to execute his incantations even at a young age. It said in the texts that he was always able to remain calm, meditated daily, and never let anything budge his dedication to spellcraft. From everything Vyrion had read, it seemed no one had ever seen him break away from his tranquil state of being. Following this memory, Vyrion closed his eyes and knelt down, focusing on calming his mind and steadying his breaths. Even a novice would be able to summon some degree of the inherent magic within them after its first emergence. It was proof you were capable of being a Caster and Vyrion knew he could do it. He had already summoned his magic one time, and he would not allow today to be any different.

Bloodthirsty fangs jumped out at him and Vyrion stumbled back, falling to the training floor as he looked around in a panic. Breathing heavy, heart pounding, a cold sweat came over him as his eyes darted around the room frantically to find the source of the snarling maw that had just attacked him. Nothing. He was still alone in the room, being watched by the Ghosts through the large window. Julian’s method of staying calm and focused didn’t seem to be an option for Vyrion.

Taking a minute to catch his breath, he placed a hand against his chest and felt his heart still straining to jump out of his body. Closing his eyes again, the vicious jaws appeared once more. He could feel his hand twitch in reaction to the image as he felt the heat of the breath on his face, but this time he didn’t budge. Tightening his hands into fists, he allowed his anger at the beast to take him over. The beast in his mind was a perfect replica of the one that took his mother and his father from him. He would never forget that beast, or what it and all like it were capable of. He would stop as many of them as he could. He would protect as many as possible to make up for his inability to save his parents. 

Power suddenly surged through him. It started in his chest eager to burst out, straining to be free and he had to concentrate, sending it coursing down his right arm and into his clenched fist. Opening his eyes, Vyrion zeroed in on one of the small dots on the wall opposite to him and thrust his arm out, palm facing the small spot that he had designated as his target. Yet no matter how much he strained, how much he demanded the magic shoot forth, nothing happened. He could still feel the energy pulsing through him, but it was trapped inside of him. As sudden as the energy formed within him, the energy faded from him and left him feeling empty as he looked down at his hand in confusion.

“What? No! It should have worked! I felt it! It worked against the IMP, so why won’t it work now?” With a groan he dropped to his knees and punched the floor under him. “I can do it! Just tell me what I need to do and I’ll do it and prove to you I should be a Caster!”

The echoing of his voice was interrupted by a sudden click inside the training room and the familiar gruff voice of one of the Ghosts. “I’m afraid we can’t do that Mr. Gale. Every Caster is a unique case. Some come by their magic through emotions, some come by it through training, and some come by it through traumatic experiences such as you. Very rarely are two cases of awakening identical. Due to this, the process of one learning to control their magical abilities also differs.”

“But you know I can do it! Chelsea told me the tests confirmed I had awakened to my abilities, so just give me a Wand! Everyone knows Wands are how Casters control their magic!”

After a short silence the voice of the Ghost entered the room again through the hidden speakers, this time a notable agitation added to their tone. “Casters must be able to conjure their inherent magical abilities on their own, or else Wands are useless to them. Now try again!”

With another groan Vyrion got back to his feet and began to try and channel the energy through his body. Time and time again he tried and failed. Every time there was a surge of pain, a spark of energy shooting through his body, and then nothing.

For hours on end he continued to try, but to no avail. After losing count of his attempts, he sat back on the floor, resting with his arms  supporting his weight behind him as he stared at the same dot he’d been aiming at all this time. A thin sheen of sweat covered him as he tried to calm his breathing. For having accomplished nothing all day, he felt completely drained. Closing his eyes, he strained to fight the image of the beast that continued to attack his mind. This time, through exhaustion of both body and mind, he lost the battle and fell back as everything went black.

Next Chapter: The Arctic Wolf