Chapter: 4
It's been a month since I started "teaching" Alexander magic—if it can be called teaching. It's been relatively simple. I show him a low-level spell, explain the basic concept, and then continue training on my own. Why not actually teach him? Simple. It's not a risk I'm willing to take.
You see, he's a kid, and kids are very easy to influence, especially in this era. What I don't want is for him to learn real magic from me, then get sucked into the crowd of a typical slave owner's kid—or worse, have it go to his head. If he starts using what I taught him for selfish or harmful purposes, it could be disastrous. While I'm making him more advanced than others his age, it's still manageable.
You might call me paranoid, but I've seen smarter people fall into the same trap.
But on a less depressing note, today is my birthday. While there wasn't much of a celebration and there were no gifts, I still got something I wanted—dreads! Oh, how I missed these. My hair had finally grown long enough to be dreaded, and I asked my mother to do it.
"Look at you, Malik. You're looking more like your father every day," Adisa said as she gently twisted my hair into the familiar coils of dreadlocks.
"Thanks, Mama. I've been waiting for this," I replied, feeling a rare sense of joy. It was a small thing, but in a life like this, small things meant a lot.
As I walked back from the cane fields later that day, I heard raised voices. Curious, I moved closer, keeping to the shadows. The argument seemed to be coming from the plantation owner's house—Whitfield's voice was unmistakably loud and agitated.
I crouched behind a stack of crates near the back of the house, straining to catch what was being said, but the words were muffled. I could hear Whitfield's deep, angry tone and a woman's voice—his wife, most likely—responding in sharp, clipped sentences. They were too far away to make out the details, but the tension was clear.
'What are they fighting about?' I wondered, trying to piece together anything from the fragments of sound.
But before I could get any closer, the door to the house slammed open. I barely had time to duck as Whitfield stormed out, his face a mask of rage. He didn't notice me as he stomped off toward the fields, his wife standing in the doorway, her face pale and lips pressed into a thin line.
I stayed perfectly still until she retreated back inside, closing the door with a finality that sent a chill down my spine.
'Whatever that was, it wasn't good,' I thought, deciding it was best to move on before I got caught in the wrong place at the wrong time.
That night, I made my way to the secret spot, the one where I had been practicing and "teaching" Alexander for the past month. But when I arrived, he was already there, sitting on the ground with a distant look in his eyes. The usual excitement that he brought to our sessions was missing, replaced by something darker.
"Hey, Alexander. You're early tonight," I said, trying to sound casual as I approached.
He looked up at me, his expression clouded. "H-hey, Malik."
I frowned, noting the tremor in his voice. "What's wrong?"
Alexander hesitated, looking down at his hands as he spoke. "My father... he's sending me and my brother away to a magic school in England."
The words hung in the air between us, heavy and filled with implications. I could tell he was struggling with the news, his usual bravado replaced by uncertainty.
"England, huh?" I said, trying to keep my tone neutral. "When are you leaving?"
"In a week," he replied, his voice barely above a whisper. "I don't want to go. I like it here... I like learning with you."
I sat down beside him, unsure of what to say. Part of me felt relieved that he would be leaving—one less risk to worry about. But another part of me, the part that had started to see him as more than just the plantation owner's son, felt something close to pity.
"Alexander, sometimes... sometimes we don't get a choice in these things," I said, choosing my words carefully. "But that doesn't mean you have to stop learning. You can take what you've learned here and build on it."
"But what if they don't teach me the same way?" he asked, frustration seeping into his voice. "What if I forget everything you taught me?"
I shook my head. "You won't forget. You'll adapt. Besides, you're smart, Alexander. You'll figure it out."
He looked at me, searching my face for reassurance. "Do you think... do you think I'll ever be as good as you?"
That question caught me off guard. I hadn't thought about it in those terms, and I wasn't sure how to answer. He was a quick learner, that was true, but his environment and circumstances were worlds apart from mine.
"You've got potential," I said after a moment. "But being 'good' at magic isn't just about skill. It's about how you use it, what you choose to do with it."
Alexander nodded slowly, processing my words. "I want to use it to make things better."
I couldn't help but smile at that, though it was tinged with sadness. "Just remember that, no matter what happens."
There was a long silence after that, the two of us sitting together in the cool night air. For the first time, I saw Alexander not just as the plantation owner's son, but as a boy caught between two worlds—one of privilege and power, and another that he barely understood.
"Hey," I said, breaking the silence. "Do you want to learn one last spell before you go?"
His face brightened a little. "Yes, please."
I looked at him with a small smile. 'Maybe just one,' I thought.
"Good, this one is a little harder than the ones that I taught you, so you might not be able to finish it before you leave. You still up for it?"
"Yeah, I want to learn," he said, his determination returning.
I nodded and stood up, motioning for him to follow me to the center of our small clearing. "Alright, let's get started."
I raised my hand into the air as I began channeling pure lightning. The energy crackled and sparked as I focused it, forming five lances of bright, electric energy. The air around us seemed to buzz with power, the light from the lances casting eerie shadows across the clearing. Then, with a snap of my fingers, the lances shot off into the distance, disappearing into the night.
Alexander's eyes were wide with awe as he stared at the spot where the lances had disappeared. "That was incredible," he breathed.
"It's called the Lightning Lance spell," I said, turning to face him. "It's more advanced than anything you've learned so far, but with practice, you should be able to manage it."
He nodded, his face set with determination. "I'll do my best."
"Good. Now, let's start with the basics. First, you need to get comfortable with channeling lightning. It's different from fire—more volatile, harder to control."
I demonstrated again, this time forming a single bolt of lightning between my fingers, letting it dance across my hand before dissipating. "Focus on creating a small spark first. Don't worry about forming it into a lance yet."
Alexander held out his hand, concentrating hard. A faint spark appeared, flickering unsteadily before vanishing. He frowned, trying again, this time managing to hold the spark for a few seconds longer.
"Nice start," I said, nodding in approval. "Keep practicing that. Once you can hold the spark steady, we'll move on to the next step."
Alexander continued to practice, his brow furrowed in concentration. I watched him closely, offering tips and corrections where needed. He was a quick learner, and I could see the improvement with each attempt.
As he practiced, my mind wandered. Teaching Alexander had been an unexpected twist in my life here. I hadn't planned on becoming a mentor, especially not to the son of a plantation owner. But despite my initial reservations, I found myself invested in his progress.
It wasn't just about teaching him magic—it was about teaching him to think for himself, to question the world around him. Maybe, just maybe, he could grow up to be different from the others. Maybe he could be someone who made a difference.
'Or maybe I'm just fooling myself,' I thought, watching as Alexander finally managed to hold a spark steady for several seconds.
"Good job, Alexander," I said, breaking the silence. "That's enough for tonight. We'll pick up where we left off tomorrow."
He looked up, a mix of pride and exhaustion on his face. "Thanks, Malik. I'll practice more before I leave."
I nodded, feeling a strange sense of finality. "You do that."
As we walked back to the plantation, the reality of the situation started to sink in. In a week, he would be gone, shipped off to England to continue his education in magic. Whatever influence I had on him would be distant, fading as he adapted to his new life.
But for now, I still had a week. One more week to teach him what I could, to shape his understanding of magic—and maybe, just maybe, to plant a seed of something more in his mind.
As we parted
ways for the night, I watched him disappear into the darkness, his footsteps echoing softly on the dirt path. A part of me felt a twinge of regret, knowing that this strange, fragile connection we had formed was coming to an end.
'This world is so much bigger than either of us can imagine,' I thought as I made my way back to the slave quarters. 'But maybe, just maybe, we've both taken our first steps toward something greater.'
---
The next few days passed quickly. Alexander continued to practice the Lightning Lance spell with increasing proficiency. Each night, we met at our secret spot, going over the finer points of the spell and refining his control.
On the last night before his departure, Alexander finally managed to create and launch a single lightning lance. It wasn't as powerful as mine, but it was a start, and he was beaming with pride as he watched the lance shoot into the night.
"You did it," I said, clapping him on the back. "That's some solid work, Alexander."
He grinned, his eyes shining with excitement. "I couldn't have done it without you, Malik. Thank you."
I smiled, though there was a hint of sadness behind it. "Just remember what I taught you. Magic is a tool—it's how you use it that matters."
"I will," he said, nodding earnestly.
We stood there for a moment, the weight of the impending separation hanging in the air between us. Then, with a final nod, we parted ways, each of us retreating to our respective worlds.
As I watched him walk away for the last time, I couldn't help but wonder what the future held—for him, for me, and for the world that lay beyond the confines of this plantation.
'Whatever happens, I'll keep moving forward,' I thought as I turned and headed back to my secret spot, the night air cool against my skin. 'There's so much more to learn, so much more to discover. And I'm just getting started.'
Chapter 4: End