Tangled in Moonlight: Unshifted novel Chapter 229

229 Ava: Fire 

Bureaucracy in the Fae Ward moves with the pace of a paralyzed sloth, leaving me with an itchy feeling between my shoulder blades, as if staying here is the worst decision I’ve ever made. 

Selene spends most of her time slinking around the Fae Ward, finding pockets of space with less wards to sneeze over. Vanessa and Marcus stick with me, with Vanessa sharing my bedroom. Our first lesson doesn’t happen for three days. Why? 

Application for Unlicensed Magus to Practice Dangerous Magic Within Residential Areas. 

It’s an actual title of a piece of paperwork Magister Orion had to file. Apparently, new wizards (though the official Fae–paperwork term is magus, unknown origin) are deemed a deadly force. 

Whoever runs this place has a serious stick up their butt about me learning magic. 

“I don’t like it,” Vanessa says, staring out the window. “They’ll have your name on official paperwork. We have no idea how deep Renard’s influence lies.” 

“It’s only within the Fae Ward,” I point out, like I have the other thirty times she’s mentioned it. “If they’re going to find me here, the paperwork won’t be the only reason.” 

Marcus, of course, is quiet. We already know how he feels. He hates it and doesn’t trust the paperwork, either. 

Not that I disagree with either of them–it’s just that, like them, I feel stuck. 

17:05 

that I’ve been unable to reach Lucas for three days. 

ty 

Knowing that they’re fighting over there, not knowing the full 

us on edge. 

Have you made any progress” Vanessa changes the subject to sit 

bed beside me, where I’m surrounded by five papers with 

ent rapes written on them. Unlike the magic book I’m still kicking myself over for leaving in my room at the lodge, these 

nes don’t disappear, and Vanessa and Marcus are able to see 

“No. Nothing” Frustrated, I grab the different papers, looking them over again and again. There’s nothing that happens when I touch them: no tingle or buzz within my fingertips. I can’t feel anything. 

It’s just a paper. 

Magister Orion, grumbling about red tape, gave me these five papers and told me to find the elements within me that 

correspond to them. With such vague instructions, it’s no surprise I’ve had no success. 

No matter how I try to commune with a single element within me, nothing happens. 

“Try meditation,” Marcus advises, grimacing at the papers before me. “It helps with fighting. Learning to center, to focus only on what matters. Maybe you’re too in tune with the world around 

you 

Giving him a dubious look–it’s not like I haven’t tried that before–l grab the one that means fire, close my eyes, and focus deep within. 

SVR XS. FIR 

I let out a slow breath as I center myself. The sounds and scents of the world fade away, leaving only the sensation of my own body, its thudding heartbeat vibrating through my chest, and the pulsing core of magic within me. It’s there, bright and tantalizing, just out 

of reach. 

Focusing on that core, that energy that warms me from within, I imagine myself reaching out to touch it. Nothing happens. I try to visualize tugging at it, like pulling on a string, but it remains stubbornly distant. Knocking on it in my mind yields no response 

either. 

Frustration bubbles up inside me. How am I supposed to access this power if nothing works? Taking another deep breath, I force myself to relax. Maybe I’m trying too hard. 

In the silence of my meditation, my thoughts drift to the rune for fire sitting on the paper in front of me. Fire, Destructive, 

passionate, life–giving. I think about its properties–how it consumes, how it transforms, how it burns. 

Burning. 

A memory surfaces, unbidden. Not a memory of this life, but of another. A dream? A vision? Whatever it was, it feels as real as 

anything I’ve experienced. 

Pain. Searing, scorching pain that raged through every fiber of my being. I couldn’t move, couldn’t scream, couldn’t see. There was nothing but the all–consuming agony of flesh melting from bone. 

My breath catches in my throat as the phantom sensations wash over me. I want to pull away from the memory, to escape the torment, but something holds me there. This is important. This 

17.50 

220 Ava. Fire 

matters. 

In that other life, that other death, I was nothing. Only pain. No name, no self, just pure sensation. And in that moment of complete dissolution, something else emerged. Something primal and powerful. 

I focus on that feeling, on the memory of being unmade by fire. The bright core of magic within me pulses in response, as if recognizing a kindred spirit. For the first time, I feel a connection to that 

power. 

It’s not about reaching or grasping or forcing. It’s about becoming. About letting go of who I think I am and embracing something deeper, more elemental. 

My mind opens to fire and the magic surges forward, no longer held back by my attempts to control it. It flows through me, around me, filling every part of my being with warmth and light.