“Magic is a force of the ultimate chaos,” Our instructor, Lord Sorzin, paced as he raised his right hand and… willed forth a purple globule to appear above his open palm. I could only take a wild guess that it was some form of magic. He raised his hand for all to see, but not every Neophyte was listening or watching. Not that Lord Sorzin seemed to care about the attention of his students, only that they were there.

He then snapped his free hand and a block of white stone appeared in the air, blinking into existence with not even the barest of flourishes. It lingered in the open, hovering as though it was held aloft by invisible strings. It was about as big as a person’s head, I figured, but with a more uniform, egg-like shape.

Huh, I saw Baba Yaga do the same with… literally everything in her house, animating inanimate things, even willing her broom to start sweeping with only a single snap of her fingers.

“It is destructive and it is random,” Lord Sorzin held out his right hand, palm and purple globule held out towards the floating stone. Burning, coal-like eyes narrowed, our instructor unleashed a plume of purple flames that soon engulfed the white stone. That took the attention of the other Neophytes, who shrank away in fear, but otherwise stayed in place as they were too afraid of getting beaten again. I watched as the white stone buckled and thrummed in the embrace of the purple flames.

And then, it changed.

Bulbous growths would rise and fall across its surface, followed by the stone seemingly freezing or its surface taking on watery ripples. There was a brief moment when a portion of the white stone outright turned into silver, before it then changed to gold and cascaded into some type of wood. Roots and branches, leaves and flowers, would periodically appear all over the surface of the white stone, before disappearing just as quickly, burned away or simply blinking out of existence. It would then take on a variety of forms that I could no longer understand or hope to describe.

When Lord Sorzin was done, the white stone had become… something else entirely – a grotesque mass of… something that seemed to pulsate and screech, like an actual living creature. And then, from underneath it, a bulbous yellow eye opened and looked at me with such pain and confusion that I felt my breath hitch.

It was alive… somehow.

“Take a long and thorough look,” Lord Sorzin vaguely gestured at the thing that floated near the ceiling of the classroom. “That is what happens when magic is unleashed without shackles, without a goal, without reason or rhyme; that is magic in its truest form.”

With a snap of his fingers, the floating creature thing blinked out of existence and I felt the collective sighs of everyone in the classroom. Lord Sorzin chuckled darkly as he walked back to the center of the teacher’s platform. “Dark Mages and Light Mages alike have learned to enforce control and discipline upon this chaos to create what is commonly known as Spell-Craft. It is the art of refining, controlling, shaping, and unleashing magic so that its effects are predictable and uniform.”

"You will not be learning the art of Spell-Craft," Lord Sorzin added. "At least, not from me - not in this class. None of you are ready for that - not yet, anyway. Instead, you will learn the basics of magic from me."

His burning, crimson eyes scanned all of us. “Not only will you all learn to harness the magic within you, you must learn to break its will and enforce your own. Magic is fickle and alive and possesses a rudimentary form of will; break it. Torture it. Ensnare it chains. Ensure that it answers to you and you alone.”

“To be Dark Mage is to be a master of magic,” Lord Sorzin said. “To be a Dark Mage is to embrace pain and suffering, to use both of those things as catalysts of power.”

“For now, Neophytes, you will learn to bring out the magic within yourselves in its truest and rawest form,” He raised his right hand and the purple globule returned, which I figured must’ve been the true and unrefined form of his magic. “Look deep into yourselves and force it out if you have to – meditate, exercise, scream and shout. I care not for what method you all choose, for magic is fickle and bringing it out is different for all of us; I only care that your method works.”

Well, his instructions didn’t sound terribly helpful if I was being honest, but – then again – it was kind of the same with Baba Yaga and, really, every other Neophyte should’ve already, at least, brushed with how their magic was supposed to feel. They wouldn’t have survived the second trial, otherwise, without it. But, I must admit, Olga and I were lucky to have been found by Baba Yaga, who took us in, fed us, and taught us how to harness the energies within ourselves.

A single glance at the very confused and very afraid Neophytes told me that Olga and I would have to, once again, raise morale and teach them as best as we can if they haven’t already figured it out for themselves. Baba Yaga taught us enough of the basics to probably teach others to do the same – close eyes, reach inwards, and hope something reaches back.

But, still, I was hoping they’d figure it out on their own; I could barely even control my own magic. It was… resistant at best, having a will of its own as Lord Sorzin said. It was like a wild animal in that regard; sure, it worked with me when it felt like it, but I did not want to be at the chaotic whims of my own magical energy. But, like any animal, I should be able to tame it somewhat, right?

My eyes narrowed as I thought occurred to me. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t get my magic to fully cooperate. Sure, I could move it around my body, just as I could move water around inside a bottle, but that wasn’t control; I merely moved the vessel and the magic simply followed. But it was not anything close to what Olga was capable of. She could wield her magic as though it was nothing more than another limb. Torture it into submission… how do I do that?

I glanced at Lord Sorzin and shrugged.

Hey, he was the instructor, right? I might as well ask, since he’s still there, doing nothing in particular.

Olga seemed deep in thought; so, I didn’t bother her.

I raised a hand, a gesture I’ve seen plenty of students do when their teachers asked questions in class or when they themselves had questions to ask; I was always looking at them from a window, across the street, while scavenging for food in trashcans.

Lord Sorzin raised an eyebrow my way, “Yes, Neophyte?”

“How do I beat my magic into submission?” I asked him plainly, “It doesn’t listen to me on the worst of days and only begrudgingly follows on the best of days.”

“Are you already capable of manipulating your magic?” Lord Sorzin asked.

I nodded. “Yes.”

“Show me,” Came his curt demand.

I nodded and focused as hard as I could, almost begging my magic to listen to me for once. Fortunately, it seemed to be in the mood to do so. With just the barest of tugs, I willed my magic forth from its resting place in my stomach and had it swirl over and around my right arm, appearing as a crimson streak of energies that looked almost like blood. It lingered for a moment, before I cut off my will and the magic flickered away.

Lord Sorzin raised an eyebrow, but otherwise nodded. “Very well; I am… satisfied with your demonstration.”

He didn’t bother asking me how I learned or who taught me. Instead, he nodded calmly and snapped his fingers. A thin piece of gnarled and charred wood appeared in his hand; it was about a foot long and about as thin as a pinky, though it got considerably thinner as it tapered on one end. Lord Sorzin tossed it towards me and I caught it in my hand. It was light, almost weightless, really. But, what really caught my attention was the sudden tug I felt from it, reaching for my magic and forming a strange link. Somehow, the stick had formed a sort of bridge between itself and my magic.

It was… weird.

Before I could process what just happened, Lord Sorzin spoke, “It’s called a wand; it’s a useful tool for Neophytes who still can’t properly control their magic. Start with this and figure out the rest for yourself.”

I nodded and closed my eyes, focusing inwards as Baba Yaga taught me. With the wand in hand, the magic responded far quicker than usual, coiling and stretching at my whims as I sent it streaming all over my body, circling my arms and my legs. No longer did it feel like controlling water with a bottle; now, I controlled the water itself with nothing but my will alone. But, my magic also felt… different. Before, despite its odd and animalistic behavior, I could never truly say for sure that it was distinctly separate entity from me; it was a part of me and it was there to stay. Now, however, with the wand in my hand, my magic felt… different, something more and yet something less all the same. It felt like it wasn’t a part of me; instead, it felt like something that’d latched onto me and taken hold. Unlike one my organs or limbs, losing it wouldn’t kill me, because it was not and never was a part of my physical form.

And yet it was a part of me now. That was the most important bit that also made everything confusing.

Whatever the case, Lord Sorzin told me to figure it out on my own and that’s exactly what I was going to do – mostly because I was afraid he might kill me if I asked another question.

Curious, I willed my magic to swirl around my arms, before I suddenly dropped the wand on the table in front of me, just to see what would happen if I did. The tether broke. The bridge disappeared. And my vision spun. I felt like throwing up as my magic suddenly rebounded from my hand and surged back to my center, where it began hissing and howling like a very angry animal. Shudders ran across my body, accompanied by tingling sensations that made me squirm and writhe in discomfort. It all lasted a grand total of five seconds; when the sixth second came, I felt… somewhat normal again. At the very least, I was no longer on the verge of puking out my empty stomach.

I stared hard at the wand, wondering if I should grab it again, before shaking my head. With a slight wince, I reached in as I did before, to the very center of my being where my piece of shit magic lingered. It was uncooperative before, like a cat; now, it was outright hostile. When I tried to nudge it forth as I’ve always done before, my magic, instead, recoiled, sending bolts of pain running across my form; I fell to the floor and screamed. I felt myself writhe and cry as phantom pins, needles, and daggers stab into me again and again and again.

Olga stood up from her chair, but, before she could do anything, Lord Sorzin’s baleful glare stopped her. “Sit back down, Neophyte; you are not allowed to help each other. Is that clear? Succeed on your own or die; that is the only way to move forward. Focus on yourself first.”

She turned to me and gave me a concerned look. She was afraid, very afraid, but she also wanted to help me. And I had no idea what Lord Sorzin would do to her if she did, which meant I couldn’t let her get involved. I couldn’t let her get hurt for my sake.

So, gritting my teeth, I pushed back all the pain to the back of my head and forced myself up. It was… torture, but I could honestly say that I’ve been through a lot worse. I turned to Olga, huffing and panting, still assaulted by unseen pins and needles and daggers as I forced myself to stay on my feet. I wanted to scream; instead, I forced out a smile, “I’m okay, Olga; don’t worry about me.”

She was definitely not convinced, but she nodded all the same and sat back down. I sighed and did the same.

Instead of dwelling on the pain, I focused on its cause: my magic that I was now no longer sure was actually mine. Whatever the case, it was in me and it would obey. First, it was definitely angry at me and was lashing out, very much like an animal in that regard; and, like an animal, I realized that I could’ve chosen to befriend or even tame it, given a huge investment of time and attention. Cats were generally standoffish creatures, but I’ve seen them be affectionate with people they trusted. I realized that I could’ve chosen to reach out to my magic and gained its trust, forming a true bond.

But, doing that was going to take a long time, a resource that I did not have – not unless I wanted to survive this place.

I grabbed the wand and heard my magic howl and scream in response; it screeched and roared like an angry, wounded animal, before it was suddenly silenced by the link that formed between myself and the black stick. Its screams echoed at the back of my mind, before it was replaced by a calm and serene silence. My magic was still there, but it was subdued and quiet, no longer possessing the annoying personality of an angry and temperamental cat. The wand was a leash, I realized; it was a chain to wrap around one’s magic, forcing the chaotic energies to obey.

But, as useful as it was, I did not want to be reliant on something that could easily be taken away or broken. It was a stick; someone could literally just reach out and break it. I wasn’t about to be dependent on it; therefore, I had two choices. First, I could figure out how it was able to subdue my magic and somehow replicate it; I wasn’t sure how to do that, but I figured every problem had to have a solution. My second option was to use the wand to break my magic into submission, essentially beat it to hell until it grew to fear me and the consequences of daring to go against my wishes. It would be a slow process, but it would be the easiest.

But, of course, a combination of both would be the optimal option.

Still, I couldn’t do either of those today; so, I had to start small.

For now, I could try to figure out how the wand worked. Thus far, I had worked out the fact that it acted like a very tight leash that forced my magic into submission. No, not just a leash; it was also a gag and a blindfold. I looked deeper inwards, into the very core of my magic; I focused on the link between it and the wand. If it was a leash, was it possible to loosen it up slightly? It would be useful for conveying a very simple message: obey or be silenced again and again. It behaved like a living creature; it felt fear and anger, which meant it could also feel pain.

As it turns out, the link itself could be manipulated.

And so, I reached out to the link and willed it to loosen up just a smidge, just enough so that a tiny bit of my magic’s animalistic side to come out. Almost immediately, it obeyed and I felt at least some of my magic burst forth, like a tidal wave. But, the link was still there; though a bunch of its personality bled through the bridge, it still could not truly fight back against my control. It could rage all it wanted, but my magic belonged to me; I had no use for a tool that had a will of its own.

And if a tool couldn't be replaced, it would be remade. Little by little, I would break my magic apart; it may scream and it may beg me to stop. But, until it became the perfect tool, I would not allow it respite.

Within my innermost center, I glowered over the quivering, crimson form of my magic. How did people train their pets to be obedient? I had no idea. So, this was going to be a learning experience for me. Whatever worked, worked. So, I tried the first thing that came to my head. I tugged at the link and yanked hard. My magic recoiled in pain. I shuddered at that; it was connected to me and whatever pain it felt resonated in the depths of my mind. I don’t think I experienced quite the same level of anguish, but it was close.

And yet, I didn’t care; pain was an old friend. I've been through far worse.

I would not break.

I WILL NOT BREAK.

YOU WILL OBEY!