Capítulo 8: Nullius Filius, Chapter 1.3
( Beau POV)
Two years had passed since Beau's awakening, and now he was three years old, growing swiftly in the embrace of this magical world. In those 2 years, Beau discovered he was a siphoner like his mother.
( flashback)
My hand accidentally collided with Grams' as we played with the dolls, and energy jolted through me. Surprise and fascination washed over my young mind as I felt the power coursing through my veins. In that instant, I realized I possessed a unique gift-a siphoner's ability to absorb magic from other sources.
I withdrew my hand, a mixture of excitement and trepidation welling up within me. I looked at Grams, who was engrossed in our playful scenario, unaware of the magic I had just tapped into.
Curiosity took hold of me, and I reached out with a newfound understanding of my capabilities, deliberately touching Grams' arm again. As our skin made contact, a surge of energy surged through me, tingling and exhilarating.
A soft red glow emanated from my hand, and I felt a profound connection to the magic within my grandmother. It was like I had become a conduit, absorbing her energy, drawing it into myself. A rush of power and knowledge flooded my senses, filling me with wonder and possibility.
With caution and gratitude, I released my hold on her energy, allowing the connection to dissipate.
As I sat there, my mind ablaze with realization, I looked at Grams with newfound awe. She possessed a wellspring of magic. At that moment, I understood the potential within me. I would have to navigate this world of magic as a siphoner, learning to control my abilities and discover the limits of my power.
Returning to the dolls, I resumed playing alongside Grams.
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May 25th, 2012, a day bathed in golden sunlight, marked a momentous occasion for him. It was his birthday, a day that held the promise of joy and celebration. As he awoke, the air buzzed with anticipation, his heart dancing with excitement.
As the first rays of morning kissed his room, he couldn't help but feel a tingling in his fingertips, a subtle reminder of the magic that flowed within him. Today, he would commemorate another year of his existence and embrace the extraordinary destiny that awaited him.
With eager steps, he made his way downstairs, where the enticing aroma of a freshly baked cake wafted through the air. The warmth of his mother's smile and the twinkle in his grandmother's eyes welcomed him into the loving embrace of his family.
"Happy birthday, my sweet Beau," his mother exclaimed, her voice infused with pride and love. "Today is a day to celebrate the remarkable young man you are becoming."
His grandmother, Grams, joined in, her voice a melodious chorus. "Indeed, my dear. May this day be filled with magic and enchantment, reflecting the extraordinary path before you."
As the morning sun painted the room with hues of gold and amber, they gathered around the table, adorned with colorful decorations and shimmering candles. The familiar "Happy Birthday" tune filled the air, and with each heartfelt note, Beau's spirit soared.
In a cozy room adorned with colorful decorations, Beau sat at a small table, his eyes sparkling excitedly. On one side of the table stood his grandmother, her gentle smile radiating warmth and love. On the other side stood his mother, her eyes filled with pride and affection.
As they finished singing the birthday song, their voices harmonizing in a chorus of happiness, Beau's face lit up with a wide grin. He clapped his tiny hands together, the sound echoing through the room, and his laughter filled the air.
"Make a wish, Beau," his grandmother encouraged, her voice soft and melodious.
Beau closed his eyes, his tiny brows furrowing as he pondered his wish. Deep inside, a curiosity tugged at his heart, a desire to unravel the mystery surrounding his father. It was a wish he hesitated to voice, for he knew it carried a hint of selfishness. But the longing in his young heart was undeniable-he wanted to know who his father was, to understand the missing piece of his identity.
With a mix of hope and uncertainty, Beau made his wish. He blew out the candles, his breath carrying his whispered desire into the air. The room fell silent momentarily as if holding its breath in anticipation.
As the last flicker of candlelight vanished, Beau opened his eyes, and his gaze met with the tender smiles of his grandmother and mother. Even without him saying it aloud, they knew the yearning within him.
His grandmother, her voice gentle and filled with understanding, spoke softly, "Beau, my dear, your wish is heard. The answers you seek may come in time, for fate has its way of unveiling truths. Trust in the journey, my sweet one, and know you are loved beyond measure."
Beau nodded, a mix of gratitude and patience settling in his heart. He knew that his grandmother's words held wisdom and reassurance. The path to discovering his father's identity may unfold before him when the time is right.
As the room erupted in applause, Beau's mother scooped him into her loving embrace, showering him with kisses and whispers of love. His grandmother joined in, surrounding him with warmth and affection. At that moment, Beau felt the power of their love, an unbreakable bond that would guide him throughout his journey.
As the birthday celebration continued, Beau felt renewed wonder and curiosity in the magical world surrounding him. The books, crystals, and wand he had received held the potential for endless exploration and self-discovery. With each passing day, he would delve deeper into the realm of spells and enchantments, honing his abilities and embracing the gifts he possessed.
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Since my accidental siphoning, Grams, and Mom took it upon themselves to guide me through the intricate world of magic. Days turned into weeks, and under their patient tutelage, I began to understand the delicate dance of siphoning.
One day, as we gathered in Grams' study, the air filled with anticipation. Mom stood beside us, her eyes shimmering with pride and determination. She possessed the unique gift of siphoning, and now she was ready to impart her knowledge to me.
In a moment of shared understanding, Mom handed me a pendant, a jewel encased in silver, pulsating with her magical essence, the one she used to use when she wasn't a heretic. It was a precious gift, a conduit for learning to harness and control my siphoning abilities.
With reverence, I held the pendant in my hands, feeling the heavy weight of the metal against my palm. Its surface shimmered with an ethereal glow, a testament to the power it contained. Grams explained its purpose and how it would serve as a focal point for channeling and directing my siphoning skills.
Under her watchful gaze, I began my training. We sought sources of magic, delicate threads of energy that intertwined with the fabric of the world. It was an exercise in precision and finesse-to touch the source, to feel the ebb and flow of its energy, and to draw from it without overwhelming or depleting it entirely.
With each attempt, I reached out with trembling fingertips, my senses attuned to the subtle vibrations of the magical currents. The pendant nestled against my chest, resonating with every connection I made. It became a compass guiding me toward the wellspring of power, a tool through which I channeled my essence.
At first, the process was arduous, my attempts clumsy and erratic. I would graze the surface of a source, feeling a jolt of energy surge through me but struggling to retain it. It was like trying to capture a fleeting breeze, slipping through my fingers before I could grasp its full potential.
But with Grams's and Mom's patient guidance, my skills gradually improved. I learned to find a delicate balance between myself and the magic I sought. It became a dance, a harmonious exchange of energies. With focused intent, I would touch the source, my fingertips tingling as I delicately siphoned energy from it, drawing upon its power to strengthen and empower myself.
The pendant served as a conduit, amplifying and refining my connection, allowing me to siphon with greater precision and control. It acted as a bridge between the source and myself, helping me channel the energy without overwhelming it like a delicate thread weaving through the tapestry of magic.
Through countless hours of practice, I honed my siphoning abilities.
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As I immersed myself further into the realm of witchcraft, Grams and Mom recognized the significance of mastering ancient incantations. They dedicated themselves to guiding me through the intricate language of Latin, known as the language of magic. The journey was arduous, filled with the complexities of pronunciation and understanding the nuances of each word.
At first, I struggled to grasp the phonetics and intricacies of Latin. The unfamiliar sounds rolled off my tongue hesitantly, and the grammatical structures posed a constant challenge. But I persevered, fueled by my determination and an unexpected knack for languages that seemed to transcend my current existence.
Drawing upon my past life's experiences, I recalled the echoes of languages I once knew: Arabic, Mandarin, Korean, Spanish, and even the melodic blend of French and Creole. Though these languages varied vastly, they became a wellspring of inspiration and familiarity as I delved into the intricacies of Latin.
Grams and Mom patiently guided me through the twists and turns of Latin grammar, unraveling its mysteries one lesson at a time. The study sessions became enchanting moments, with candles casting dancing shadows on ancient tomes and the air filled with the scent of aged parchment.
As the weeks turned into months, I gradually found my rhythm. The foreign sounds transformed into melodic vibrations, flowing effortlessly from my lips. Latin became not just a language but a portal to ancient wisdom, unlocking the hidden power within the carefully crafted spells.
With each chant I mastered, I felt the echoes of countless generations of witches who had uttered these words before me. The convergence of languages from different cultures infused my magical practice with a unique flavor, a tapestry woven from diverse traditions and spells.
Estado de energía semanal
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