"Laila!" a voice thundered up into the room. "I hope you're not lying on your back. Otherwise, you'll be the shame of our house forever!"
The voice snapped Laila out of her thoughts. She blinked dreamily out of the window before her gaze wandered back to the desk and stopped on the blank paper.
With her head in both hands, only her tingling fingertips remained. The prickling under her fingernails resembled countless unpleasant pinpricks and left her no peace. She hadn't managed it again. Why couldn't she do it?
Laila had to make it, but the stone remained silently resting on the dark wood. Her cold, damp hands gripped it. How could anyone possibly levitate such a heavy stone with magic? She wanted to throw it out of the window. However, she suppressed the urge. What if her parents found out?
She glanced at the door, which could have opened at any moment, but no footsteps approached from the hallway or stairs. Her heart was beating fast.
'I want to draw,' Laila thought, dipping the pen into the ink before using her arm to hold the notebook open. The strokes were very uneven. Not at all as fluid as her grandfather had written them down.
And yet, each subsequent stroke became clearer and more precise. The ink flowed across the parchment, following her every wish across the rough paper like a harmony. Her hand felt weightless, free of any worries. The sun was setting toward evening. For a moment, Laila thought the ink was sparkling. But after blinking, it all disappeared again.
The ink glistened slightly, and Laila placed the open notebook on the windowsill in the last faint rays of evening sunlight before they disappeared behind the trees. Darkness fell over the house. The hallway light flickered from under the crack in the door.
She had no idea how long she stood at the window, but something fascinated her about this circle. Meanwhile, night had fallen. Laila had never seen anything like it before. But her drawing didn't seem as magical as the pictures in the book.
'How can Grandpa's rune glitter without sunlight?' she asked herself. A dark veil completely covered the room.
She carefully took the paper and pressed both thumbs on the fine lines. Something prickled under her skin and moved inside her body. A faint suction pulled something out of her. Startled, she dropped the notebook and hid behind her chair.
A green light shimmered like a smallish sun coloring her walls. Laila's heart pounded, not with fear but excitement, as she looked over the chair's back cautiously. Did she create that? A spark jumped up to the ceiling and cracked like a small firework. The glitter remained in the air and turned into a sea of stars, reflecting in Laila's eyes.
"So beautiful..."
With a soft snowfall, the lights trickled to the floor until darkness veiled the room once again. Laila crawled out from behind the chair, grabbed the notebook, and held it out in front of her with outstretched arms. She could still feel the glint in her eyes as if the spectacle remained in the air. She had made it; it was her sea of stars.
Without hesitation, Laila stormed off. She had to show someone. She had finally done it. Real magic!
She was already standing on the first step with one foot. "Mom! Where are you?" Laila reached the end and jumped from the fifth step straight through the door frame into the hallway. No one was in the kitchen.
"Quiet! I'm concentrating!"
Laila sprinted on and skidded straight into the living room. Her mother was sitting on the armchair with a bottle. Her head was leaning back, almost touching the wall, while she stared blankly at the ceiling. Behind her, a fire crackled softly in the fireplace.
"Look at that. Look, I've done it!" Laila stretched the notebook forward with both hands to present it better.
Slowly, her mother lifted the head of the backrest. Her gaze sank to the wooden floor like a cold spotlight. Her eyes blurred slightly. Her senses wandered around the room until they finally caught on to Laila before she blinked with her right eye.
"Mhh? Scribbling all over the paper again? Don't waste my time; I need to think."
"But," Laila protested quietly.
"Do you have socks in your ears or hearing loss?" she yelled. "You're supposed to be learning Magecraft, not having fun doodling. I've had to master much harder techniques at your age."
Then she shook her head. "Useless... You have time to doodle, but you can't make an effort. Tomorrow, you'll show me your progress."
Laila's head stared at the floor. Her thumbs pressed heavily against the notebook, which crumpled as her chest vibrated; Laila didn't dare to look up. She just wanted to show her work; was that too much to ask?
'If I activate the spell, she will surely praise me like grandfather! Suddenly, warm air filled her lungs, and she lifted her chin. Her mother had already put her head back on the backrest and closed her eyes. The bottle still hung loosely between three fingers.
"Mom..."
"Are you hard of hearing? Do I have to lock you in the room so you can practice Magecraft?"
Laila shuddered but pressed the rune anyway. The circle lit up in a starry green light, and for a moment, Laila felt as if the imaginary construct was rising. A spark gathered inside and leaped into the air.
"By God!" shrieked a high-pitched voice. The bottle slipped and splintered. "You ungrateful brat! You sully my bloodline!"
Only now did Laila realize that she was no longer holding her notebook.
"How many times do I have to break it to you?" Her eyes glowed red, and flames bubbled up from within. She couldn't even recognize her mother's face. Laila jumped back. Her mouth felt sewn shut while her knees wouldn't stop trembling.
"Little party tricks, so that's how you pass your precious time!" Darkness veiled her face. Laila wanted to run away, but something held her in place.
"I have to put up with the Clock Tower's blunders every day. Those disgusting big houses annoy me to death. I want to put my feet up once, but even that's too much to ask. Why can't I just enjoy my time? Instead, I need to help you with trivial studies. If only you weren't so useless..."
Then she took a step towards the fireplace and opened the door.
"Mom, please. Grandpa gave me this as a present!" Laila shrieked desperately and ran against her mother's hip. Her fingers reached up. The notebook! She could see it. The glowing heat from the fire rose to her face and burned her skin.
"Enough!"
As if in slow motion, the blazing flames gripped the notebook and pulled it deeper and deeper into the fireplace. The door closed before her eyes. Through the blackened glass, Laila could only dimly see the first pages beginning to wither and the smoke pressing helplessly against the panes.
The green spark of snowfall solidified. The color faded, and an ash-like rain trickled from the ceiling. It stabbed Laila in the chest like a knife. But she didn't dare hold out her hands and catch it.
"Dear god! What will your grandmother think of you?! Are you going to tell her that you'd rather tinker with little party tricks than practice Magecraft?"
Laila shook her head but didn't dare take her head away from the sea of flames.
"Shame on you. Show me your progress tomorrow," Laila nodded. "At least you don't seem to have completely fallen on your head, so at least we can still marry you off to a rich family," her mother muttered and left the living room.
The light bulb above the round table went out, and in the distance, Laila heard the last faint words behind the closing door.
"Hopefully, the next one has more innate talent..."
Silence returned. No light was burning. The ashes touched the floor and disappeared. Laila opened the fireplace. The heat was unbearable. She carefully reached out her hand into the biting flames but shrieked back.
The notebook was still smoking. Her grandfather's little note had already disappeared. Blackness took the remaining pages. For a moment, she could hear him laughing as if he were writing the pages. The book would disappear...
Laila's hand leaped into the flames. The heat bit her skin. Her fingers wrapped around the notebook. It crumbled; ash engulfed her skin, and she pulled out only a charred corner. It lit up one last time and then died completely in her trembling hands. Her body felt numb as if it had not yet registered what had happened.
"One day..." Laila whispered, and a cold shudder made her teeth chatter.
"One, one, one night..."
Then she threw the remains against the armchair and fell sideways onto the floor. Her fists hit the carpet several times before she pressed her hands over her eyes. Tears welled up and ran down the side of her arm. Her grandfather had made such an effort. Everything hurt unbearably. What was she supposed to do?
"I can't do this, I can't do this, I can't do this!" Her throat threatened to tear, and she gasped for air. Everything spun. Something black crisped before her eyes as her vision flickered.
"Please don't scream at me again," Laila whispered as the last words barely left her lips. Silence fell again, but Laila's head was still racing. Her thoughts were buzzing, piercing her skull like cold stitches, and she didn't even notice the pain in her hand.
Laila tried to think of something else, but the raging fire wouldn't vanish. Tomorrow, her mother will check up on her. But when? At noon, in the evening? Suddenly, a thought froze Laila's whole body. 'Mom could test me after she gets up...' Her heart pounded. She finally had to master wind magecraft! Even if she stayed up all night!
Laila stood up and grabbed the remains of the notebook. Her knees wobbled. Then she felt something nearby. Was it a shadow watching her? Did her mother return? Then the room shook. Something reverberating vibrated through the room like an echo. One, two, no, it was much more of a recurring rhythm.
"Mom?" Laila asked cautiously, stumbling back a little.
'Is it morning again? I have to feed my little sparrow.' She frowned and blinked several times. "What did I say? What am I doing here anyway? How come I'm at home?"
An uneasy feeling gripped Laila. She had only ever experienced something like this in stories. She didn't like the realization. With a shudder, everything tingled as if something had forced her into a stranger's body.
Her back was soaking wet, and a frosty chill settled on her skin. The shivers quickened but were smothered in a white mist. She looked out the window. Closed and dark. Panic slowly spread through her. The tape was peeling off the walls, and countless objects seemed to be watching. A red laser dot on her chest came from the remote control. Then the TV started up and switched wildly between channels.
"Okay, okay. Calm down. What are you supposed to do again? Ahh, what do I remember... I was lying in bed and fell asleep. A dream, it must be a dream. A simple dream. Exactly..."
She licked the burn scars on her hand. The ash stuck to her tongue, but the taste felt too real. Laila hesitated; it had to be an illusion. Or perhaps a manipulated dream? Why couldn't she feel anything?
"Ahh, what on earth is going on here?"
Laila whirled her head around. All the furniture seemed much bigger now. Wasn't the wardrobe just against the wall? She carefully grabbed her hip and searched for her fan. The Mystic Code felt heavier than she remembered. It seemed huge in her small hands. She quickly opened it and studied the individual engravings that gave this object its magical power.
"It's wrong..."
Something creaked behind Laila. The armchair had shifted. Something was inside. The walls were moving, coming towards her. Laila swung the fan, and a breeze shot through the living room, pulling furniture with it and causing the windows to bulge.
"It wasn't supposed to work." Suddenly, terror spread throughout her body.
Laila was sure of it. She wasn't in the real world, but she wasn't in a dream either. She was in a mental prison, and that could only mean one thing. She quickly drew a symbol with her trembling fingers in the ash. The cracking behind her grew louder.
"Damn it, damn it... Why did I fall asleep?"
With the last stroke, she pressed her hand inside the circle.
"Illusionkehr!"
Instantaneously, the room shattered like glass. It shook as reality disintegrated before Laila's eyes. Behind it, she could only see absolute blackness. But the terror did not disappear. Maybe it was lingering? Whatever had captured her could wait—veiled by the absolute blackness without her knowing!
Even in the practical lessons, the illusion was more like the blur of a tube TV. Laila turned around. With the fan firmly enclosed, her perception seemed blurred. She tried to memorize the whole process. Maybe she could figure out what was happening.
Time seemed to stand still as the blackness fell and the ground lost its color. Red eyes peered menacingly from behind the transparent shards. They turned haphazardly and remained without a fixed target before landing on her.
Suddenly, Laila found herself in free fall. Everything was spinning. Red dots disappeared before they reappeared. A white hand reached out, and a voice called out to her. Without thinking, she grasped the delicate fingers.
With a deep breath, Laila pushed herself off the mattress, drenched in sweat. Her body couldn't even scream. The blanket slid sideways off the bed. Panicked, she tried to find her bearings in her room. Her fan lay on the desk, surrounded by something white.
'What is that?' Laila asked herself, narrowing her eyes. Only now did she notice that something damp was sticking to her clothes. Something white and stringy was clinging to her sleeve as it stretched across the room and disappeared under the door. The strands tied tightly over the blanket and pressed Laila deep into the bed.
Once again, something banged against the window but disappeared after a faint screech. Was it already morning, or why was the bird knocking? Laila immediately shook her head.
Something must have gotten into the house. But how? Jones wanted to set up a bounded field. Laila's stomach twisted; she didn't even want to think about what would even be able to slip through unnoticed. Or had he never managed it in the first place?