Monday. A scalding hot shower, the bathroom full of steam. The shampoo bottle turned out to be empty.
A small portal opened by itself into the compartment in the next room. He put his hand through, felt around, got a new bottle.
He smiled.
Wednesday, he practised forming a sphere out of his own energy. It was the first thing young mages learned. A spatial sphere had no offensive capability at all. But honestly, it was pretty cool.
Friday, he held the purple sphere up in his hand and explained it to himself. Telekinesis was the domain of force mages. It was not his. He showed himself the difference: yellow energy meant telekinesis; with purple energy it was gravikinesis, and he made the object weightless instead. He levitated small stones in his palm.
It was not the usual method. But without formal education, this was enough.
He launched the stones and the energy together at the side of a nearby tree.
Sunday morning, Callum sat outdoors in meditation. Eyes closed, breathing deep, trying to feel the air.
Suddenly he realised that despite his eyes being closed, he could see things.
The curtains inside the house were being visualised in front of him, and he could push and see through objects. The range was limited. But then, suddenly, he saw Jessica coming out from inside the house.
His eyes flew open.
"Mr. Hall."
Callum waved. She came over and explained, smiling, that the local kids were going back to school and some of them might cut across his yard.
Callum laughed. "It doesn't matter. The overgrown part hasn't been cleared yet anyway. Don't worry about it."
Jessica said something about the bus area and then stopped herself. On the way out she gave him a friendly warning. "Don't disappear again."
Callum gave an awkward wave.
And as soon as she was gone he fell into a panic. Did she see anything?
He ran around the yard looking. There were visible purple marks in the grass. The result of magic practice. He would have to learn to suppress residual magic.
He kept running, sweating nervously. If anybody with magic sense stood in that yard, the disguise was finished.
In a large room somewhere else, a woman in a lab coat was describing something to an agent and showing him a clipboard.
The standard exam confirmed that the subject had never used a magical touch before. But some anomalies had been detected.
The agent flipped through the report. "Continue."
She explained. When she had considered the supply replacement for testing, that was when the issue was noticed. A blocker was issued with a hundred units of mana. But in the substitute there were only three units left. On examining the blocker, she found that ninety-seven units of mana had been absorbed.
The agent asked what it meant.
She replied, "This is too much for a common novice. Far too much. If he had never used magic, then his Vis pool should have been completely full."
The agent said, "I don't know what it means. But I think it's connected to the fact that a thirty-year-old wizard somehow managed not to notice his own magic."
Looking at the clipboard, he thought aloud. "Who is Callum Wells, finally?"
Callum closed his eyes. Maintaining his concentration, he took a soft breath.
He observed the energy in the environment carefully and came to a conclusion. That much Vis should be enough.
He positioned a circle on the table and started it spinning. It began to release a massive amount of purple lightning. The object spun faster and faster.
Callum was satisfied. Perfect.
He knew the use of the vortex patterns he had found online. By doing this to ball bearings, he could erase every trace of magical residue. He looked at the circle spinning in his palm. This much progress in a few weeks — it should be enough to stay off the Guild's radar.
But there was something that did not feel right.
He should have been happy. Instead there was an emptiness inside him.
He remembered his mother's funeral, and he realised that from that day onward he had been running. Moving so fast that he never once stopped to think about everything he had lost. He remembered his parents. He remembered his wife. He remembered an old bouquet laid against a gravestone, and the family photograph, and he realised that his hometown was on the list of losses too.
A long list, and one more ceiling to look at.
He said in a low voice, "Would you have liked it here, Selene?"
Then he shook his head immediately. No. Focus.
The Guild wants to capture me and make me its pack horse, he said to himself. His fist tightened. I was forced to run. I am not going to give it up.