Touch Me ✔

Chapter Twenty-Four

Miles ran his hand over my forearm carefully, leaning against me from behind as his fingers twisted around my hands to position them in front of me. His touch was warm like the sun on my skin. It was distracting. But Miles was focused and stern.

"Due to ancient wars between witches, each of the three lead covens created their own language," Miles lectured me as he continued to correct my posture firmly. "They were called Genesis, Exodus, and Leviticus. The covens that branched off were called the Zodiacs, Vices, Hellas, and the Natura-their languages consist of some form of the lead covens' language."

Miles released his grip on me with approval, stepping away promptly.

"You should already know Genesis, being that they created you, but as I understand it you are being kept from accessing that information. So we'll start from scratch," He sighed, as if the idea was irritating to him. "The language of Genesis is derivative of Latin in some forms, its most distinctive characteristic being the prefix 'et-'. If ever you want to identify other languages, it's easiest to start with their prefix. Exodus uses 'Zet-' and Leviticus 'Vaz-'. In ancient times, these were the only things they'd have to say to summon their power."

Miles lifted his hands, directing them carefully with purpose.

"Et, zet, vaz," He repeated simply before glancing at me almost smugly. "Over time, magic evolved and the covens split. Languages were created and spells were born through them. Not that this matters much in our case. Stop shaking." He tapped his hand under my arms which had begun trembling from holding them in one position for too long.

"Maybe if you stopped talking so much," I muttered, making him chuckle. "Shouldn't I be saying a spell or something?"

"You can silent cast, meaning the language itself isn't as important," Miles responded simply, "Silent casters are rare and for good reason. Because they don't need the language to direct their power, it can be unpredictable. Take Jax, for example. He was a silent caster and now he's a vampire. It isn't a coincidence."

I dropped my arms to look at him in surprise. I opened my mouth to ask for a more elaborate explanation, but then guilt took over. I turned away.

"You shouldn't tell other peoples' stories," I scolded Miles firmly, making him scoff in protest.

"Oh, but mine is up for grabs by whoever whenever."

"I already said sorry," I answered with a frown.

"The magic word is Etarma. Put your hands back up, blockhead," Miles was still rude, but his voice had softened significantly. I lifted my hands once again and he continued, "Magic is unique to the wielder. Some view it as a part of themselves while others may view it as a separate entity altogether. What matters is how you call it forth. Once you've pinpointed the source within you that moves the power, it's only a matter of practice."

I held my hands in front of me, only the tips of my forefinger and thumbs touching. It left a shape of a triangle between my hands, as instructed by Miles. I took a deep breath, focusing on his instructions.

"Think back to the times you were able to use magic. What emotions were affecting you? Was it self-preservation? Anger? Sadness? Joy," Miles paced behind me slowly, making me nervous. I shook my head. I needed to learn this. "Focus on that emotion; those situations. And then make a wall. Once you've learned to block spells, you'll at least be safe from whatever call those witches used on you."