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"Close your eyes and take a deep breath, Mr. Volkarin. Just like we practiced."
“I— I can’t do it,” Emmrich panicked, letting the volatile green flames dissipate from his sweaty palms. At 13 years of age, Emmrich Volkarin was one of the oldest apprentices in his cohort. The Mourn Watch began headhunting students at a young age with great potential in the study of necromancy, forensic anthropology, psychagogy, and other advanced fields of study. It was his Housemistress that had recommended him for consideration—though, Emmrich had no idea why. The most prominent magical talent he had demonstrated thus far was accidentally lighting his bedsheets on fire thanks to a particularly distressing nightmare. He wondered if it was his friendship with Housemistress Kelemen’s daughter, Myrna, that garnered him sympathy.
“You can, and you must,” Professor Stravelton’s voice snapped him back into reality. “Resume your somatic components, Mr. Volkarin, lest you lose control.” Feeling his arms tremble and his breathing quicken, Emmrich rolled his wrists and tried to concentrate once more. If he could not handle a simple spirit transposition, he is simply unfit to join the ranks of the Watchers. Perhaps they would send him to the Circle; if he still proves too much of a danger to others, would they make him Tranquil?
Emmrich’s fingers moved too quickly as he tried to form his seals. “Professor, I don’t know what I’m—”
His thoughts raced faster and his focus waned further. He could almost hear what sounded like anguish as the summoned spirit yo-yoed across the veil. “This is too cruel,” Emmrich cried. The sudden lapse in his magic bounced the spirit back into the Fade and knocked him flat on his backside.
Professor Stravelton sighed and extended his hand to help Emmrich to his feet. “Up, up, Mr. Volkarin. We shall try again tomorrow.”
“I’m sorry,” Emmrich sniffled, feeling the tears already beginning to puddle in his eyes. He considered staying in the dirt; the other children would tease him relentlessly if they saw him crying yet again. “I thought I could do it this time.”
“I know that you can do it. We shall try as many times as it takes until you believe it yourself,” Professor Stravelton reassured him as he pulled Emmrich to his feet. He handed his student a handkerchief. “You are dismissed, Mr. Volkarin.”
Emmrich wiped his running nose with the handkerchief and hurried to collect his belongings. As he gathered his books and his writing implements, he felt around for his pocket watch. Time was not easy to tell in the Necropolis, and his father’s timepiece was the only thing that helped ground him. He shuffled through his book bag, turning it over and shaking its contents onto the ground. Panic set in as he rummaged through his loosened papers.
“Where is it?!” He cried, head whipping around to search the immediate area. The watch was one of the few keepsakes he has left of his late parents; it was his solace in a world upturned by tragedy and uncertainty. Perhaps someone took it? He shuddered to think that his tormentors would go that far.
Out of the corner of his eye, Emmrich noticed a flash of light. Trying to follow it with his eyes, the light moved just faster than his sight could keep up.
“Hello?”
The light reappeared in front of his face, nearly blinding him. As his vision focused, he could see that a wisp was circling him. The visitor drifted down his body and curled around his feet like a cat. Emmrich had seen plenty of wisps around the Necropolis, but few approached him so readily. It seemed to be trying to get his attention as it hovered expectantly. The tightness in his chest loosened as he focused on the wisp’s steady pulse of light. He began to breathe in time, feeling his diaphragm rise and fall beneath his lungs. Emmrich was surprised to feel the anxiety subsiding in both his body and his mind. He had no idea that wisps were capable of such things.
The wisp, seemingly content with Emmrich’s condition, flickered more urgently as it flew towards the nearby flowerbed. Dumbfounded and enticed by his own curiosity, Emmrich followed quickly behind his new friend. He stepped around the variegated weeping widowers and carefully navigated the rose bushes as he tailed the wisp.
“I can’t believe it… my timepiece!” Emmrich dove to the ground to pick up the watch nestled in the wood chips. He brushed debris off of the tarnished watch, revealing the faded initials ‘R.E.V’. “How did you know this was here?”
He half-expected an answer from the precocious wisp, but it just continued to idle in the air. How long had it been watching him? What drew Curiosity to a milquetoast child such as himself?
The wisp bounced up and down in the air before seemingly disappearing back into the ether. Emmrich could only stare in awe at this profound gesture of kindness from one of the Maker’s simplest creations. He felt tears forming in his eyes once more, this time in tender reverence.
“Thank you, my friend.”