“Think of the pain as reassurance you're alive." Its voice rippled outward “After all, life is pain. Anyone who says anything different is selling something.”

  He bit his cheek until he'd mastered himself. Its tiny feet slapped on his skin as it climbed past his ear and up on his head. Christofer squeezed his right shoulder with his left hand and blew out a deep breath. As his gaze focused on the floor, he heard a cane clack into the floor, the floorboards creaked as the old man leaned forwards and rose from the chair.

  ‘That’s depressing.’ Christofer’s thoughts echoed back.

  “Past ones though they may be, they are your thoughts.” The gecko pushed down a large tuft of hair and pushed itself up.

  ‘Yes, but still depressing- Wait, are you throwing these depressing facts at me to distract me from the pain?’ Christofer’s thoughts questioned the little spirit.

  “Is it working?” The gecko's eyes followed Gerard walking to the back of the large room as he approached the nightstand and grabbed the mug standing on it.

  Jack pushed the rocking chair and pulled a small table in front of it. The old man sat back down in the rocking chair. He placed the mug in front of him on the table and pushed the mug across the table. Christofer stopped it from falling off and making a dent in the floor.

  “My mug?” Christofer rotated the mug around and grabbed the handle with his right hand,

  “We need you to instinctively control yourself.” Gerard said, “To that end...”

  Gerard once more retrieved the knife from his belt. He turned around the blade with his hand, its metallic orange sheen reflected the sun. He placed it on the table, then turned around and opened the cupboard. He rummaged through it, pushing a few plates to the side to reach a cup and placed that next to the knife on the table.

  “There,” Gerard said as he nicked his palm with the knife, “Now, observe!”

  He clenched his fist, a trickle of blood fell into the cup. Christofer frowned.

  “It will not go as fast for you, you need to sense the blood as it leaves your body.”

  The capillaries under his skin flashed briefly, as a faint light traveled quickly down the length of his arm. Color drained from his wrist to his palm, the light escaped out of his fist as something crackled. A warm red glow surrounded his hand and the wound from earlier was quickly cauterized, stopping the bleeding quickly and efficiently.

  “Despite being a warlock, you can’t brute force magic. It needs a delicate touch.”

  The scarring gradually disappeared as Gerard continued to talk. The glow dissipated and he cautiously moved his fingers.

  “Had you been a wizard, this would’ve been the first thing you would’ve been taught.”

  Gerard wiped off the blood on the sharp copper knife with a piece of cloth.

  “What’s the difference?” Christofer asked.

  “Hm?”

  “What’s the difference between a Warlock and a Wizard?”

  Gerard couldn’t help as a sigh escaped his lips.

  “The distinction is made by the way they unlock their inner od and awaken the path to the arcane. A warlock unlocks theirs through conflict and battle, most commonly war. War-lock. Thus the name. A wizard on the other hand unlocks theirs via the aid of an arcane ritual led by an esteemed wizard of a notable guild,”

  “The young new wizard then enters into a master-apprentice type relationship with the older wizard. A commoner would generally not be able afford their services.”

  He placed the knife back into the holster on his belt.

  “Now, enough distractions. Save your questions for later,” Gerard leaned over the cup, “Let’s resume the lesson before the blood coagulates and ruins the demonstration.”

  A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

  Gerard moved his hands close to both sides of the mug without touching it. The capillaries under his skin on both of his arms flashed briefly, as faint lights traveled quickly down the length of his arms. The same warm red glow that surrounded his hand earlier formed around both hands. Color drained further from the hands as Gerard condensed the warm glow and moved it into the cup.

  “Exori Flam” Gerard spoke while staring intently at the cup.

  The cup flashed with light as a little flame flickered for a short instant before extinguishing. Gerard blew out a deep breath and clenched and relaxed both hands two times.

  “Now then,” he leaned back into the rocking chair, “it’s your turn.”

  Gerard once more pulled out the knife from his belt and leaned over the table with the knife in hand. Christofer reluctantly reached out his hand and received the knife, he stared at the knife with a bemused expression. He sucked in a deep breath and blew it out.

  “Let the pain guide you and limit you.” the old man said. “I’ve had a number of warlock patients who blew off their limbs because they couldn’t control their power...”

  “Well, shit.” Christofer said out loud and finally pulled the knife over his palm.

  He breathed out deeply as he felt the sharp knife cut. He shakily placed the knife on the table and held his hand over the mug. The blood flowed out of the fresh wound, moved across the palm and dripped into the mug, drop by drop.

  “Good. Now, close your eyes. Focus on the body. Feel the blood moving around your body, focus on the hand as the blood exits the body. Follow it in your mind.”

  “Uh, I’ll try.”

  “No talking, focus.”

  Christofer grimaced a bit, closed his eyes and sucked in a deep breath. He recalled the breathing rhythm he had used the previous time when he had drunk the strange liquid. As he breathed, he focused on the blood flowing through his legs, flowing through the torso. He felt something react in the old wound on his shoulder and followed the path of the blood as it rushed down to a throbbing sensation in his hand.

  The blood reached the edge of the wound. It felt colder. The sensations of it moving along the outside of his palm, the surface tension of the blood as it flowed out over the subtle creases in his hand before teetering on the edge. The sensations of the outside spread outward. Coldness. He felt the perspective of the drop leave his hand and felt the ceramic bottom of the mug rush up to meet it. The sensation repeated drop by drop.

  “Norseman, keep focusing on that spot outside of yourself,” Gerard leaned back in a satisfied manner, “But open your eyes now. Ingrain the sensation of feeling outside yourself.”

  As Christofer looked into the mug with red at the bottom, he felt the wound on his hand close up and his focus wavered for an instant. Gerard continued to speak. Christofer tensed up.

  “Expand your senses. Focus on a drop of blood in the mug and allow yourself to feel around it. Picture the sensations in the mug. Localize the sides, localize the center.”

  A tiny globule of blood turned into a thin tendril of blood and shot into one direction. The movement sent waves cascading around the mug from the points of impact. Another globule of blood shot in another direction. Slowly, a mental image of a circle formed in Christofer’s mind. He found the center. A ripple formed from the center of the mug.

  “Now, repeat what you did before, with one tiny little difference. Remember the time the rat exploded on this floor? Move your hands to the sides of the mug and hold them there. Feel the sensation of a drop of blood in each hand,”

  “Now, Ignite those blood drops, carefully mind you. And move the energy outside of yourself like the drop of blood that fell from your hand.”

  Christofer stared intently on the mug.

  “After the energy touches the center of the mug. Let it ripple outward. Chant the words, ‘Exori Flam’ and ignite the blood within. Be mindful to control yourself, or your mug will take the brunt of your negligence.”

  Christofer was staring at the mug so intently now that tears began to form in his eyes. The blood in the mug began to bubble, froth and glow bright orange.

  “Exori... Flam.” Christofer hoarsely said and grit his teeth.

  There was a sudden blinding flash of green light followed by a muffled roar as the mug was propelled into the air by the newly formed compressed thermal energy. It spun into the air with half a meter long yellowish green tongue of flame trailing behind it. The shockwave hit Christofer and Gerard in the chest.

  “Every action has an opposite and equal reaction,” the Gecko’s words echoed as Christofer observed the events unfold in front of him.

  Christofer caught the mug, a tiny mushroom cloud rose from it. Somewhat dazed, he cleared his throat. Gerard looked at the scene with big eyes. Frank groaned and turned around on the floor before continuing to sleep.

  “You have... aptitude, Norseman,” Gerard closed his eyes and sucked in a deep breath from his pipe to calm himself down, “...but your magic control is horrendous.”

  Gerard let two streams of smoke flow from his nose as he bit down on the pipe. The sound of his hand slapping down on the wooden armrest sharply echoed in the room. Christofer wiped off the tears with an arm and set the mug down on the table again.

  “However… It is most peculiar.” Gerard pulled his pipe out of his mouth and held it in the air with a bemused expression. “Imagine that circle a fist away from your dominant hand...”

  Gerard slowly sat down and raised his right hand. A faint light flowed from his wrist, color drained from the hand as the air in front of it began to warp like the bending of light around a fire. Slowly but surely a faint red ring formed in the center.

  "This is a spell circle. The blood rune. The very basics of spell casting.”