The Fundamentals of Magic: Part Two

"Then let the fun begin!" the magician declared, sweeping away his blackboard with a theatrical flourish. His robe swished dramatically as he stepped down toward the audience.

With a glint in his eye, he selected six participants: a shy girl, a tall man, Luna, a chivalrous gentleman, a walking cat, and a woman draped in a cloak with a translucent veil over her face.

"Come, come! You'll have fun—you might even learn something delightful!" the magician said cheerfully, beckoning them onto the platform with a wide grin.

The tall man and the walking cat were the first to hurry up the steps, eager and unbothered.

The shy girl followed more slowly, head bowed to avoid eye contact—so brave in her quiet way.

The chivalrous man ascended with pride, every step full of purpose and knightly poise.

The veiled woman moved with an almost unsettling normalcy, not a hint of hesitation.

And Luna? She plopped herself onto the podium, then scrambled onto the stage in her own peculiar way.

With all six now assembled, the magician gestured for them to form a line.

He clapped his hands once and asked, "Now then—who here knows how to use magic?"

Four hands rose: the shy girl, the chivalrous man, the walking cat, and the veiled woman.

"Wonderful! Now, would you each be so kind as to show the audience the spell you're most proud of?" he said, smiling warmly as he waved them on with theatrical encouragement.

The walking cat stepped forward with a bounce, tail high and eyes gleaming."Me! Me! Me first!" he declared, hopping in place like an impatient child.

He wore a wide-brimmed hat tipped with a crimson feather, tilted just so atop his sleek black fur. A deep purple cape fluttered behind him, trimmed in gold and clearly made for flair. His voice was smooth and theatrical, every word dripping with self-importance—like a noble born to perform.

"All right, and what's your name, mister?" the Magician asked, clearly amused.

"Wax!" the cat answered proudly, smoothing out his whiskers with a paw.

"A...hem," the magician blinked, slightly taken aback. "Well, Mr. Wax, please continue. Show us your best spell—and tell us why it's your favorite."

"Gladly!" Wax purred. "Mr. Magician, would you kindly take that chalk in your hand and toss it near my paws—but only when I say 'when'?"

Still a little confused, the magician raised an eyebrow. "Well… sure, I suppose."

Wax stood tall on his hind legs, lifting his right paw with dramatic flair. He narrowed his eyes, focusing. Slowly, the fur around his paw began to ripple, and his whiskers trembled in tune. His little cape fluttered gently—despite the still air.

"Now! Throw it!" he called, his voice full of pride.

The magician lobbed the chalk lazily toward the cat. As it descended, something strange happened: the chalk began to stretch, bend, and twist in the air, curving unnaturally toward Wax's paw. The closer it got, the more it warped—until, just as it reached the center of his paw, it vanished entirely.

The magician blinked. Then his eyes lit up and he began to clap, clearly impressed.

"Incredible! Truly incredible! Oh, dear audience—remember, not every spell is flashy or loud. Some magic, like this, is subtle, refined—so delicate that only the most skilled eyes can even perceive it!"

Wax's tail swished once. "Not done yet," he purred.

The magician froze. Slowly, he tilted his head—and the five other participants followed suit, their eyes drawn upward.

High above the magician's head, the chalk had reappeared. It fell silently, elegantly—and just before it could smack him square in the face, it struck an invisible barrier and bounced off with a gentle ping.

"Clever cat! Oh, you clever little devil, you got me!" the magician laughed, dabbing a joyful tear from the corner of his eye.

Luna's eyes sparkled with excitement. The showcase had already made the entire lesson worth it. She stepped backwards, barely restraining herself from running over and petting the cat—her deep love for felines practically radiated from her in waves.

Wax purred like a noble with a secret and addressed the crowd with a mock bow.

"This, dear audience, was the very first spell I ever learned," he said, tail lazily swishing like a metronome of smugness. "And still my favorite—because it's equal parts absurdly simple and criminally complex."

He gave a sly grin, flashing a fang. "Most folks can't even see it. Which makes it perfect for sorting out the wheat from the magically mediocre."

His whiskers gave a proud twitch. "Once you've got the hang of it, though? Oh, it's pure elegance. You can bend, twist, stretch—basically play fetch with the laws of physics"

With a satisfied flick of his tail, he added, "That concludes today's performance."

He dropped back onto all fours and strutted back to the line like a cat who'd just knocked a vase off the table on purpose.

"Well then, next up!" the magician called, turning to the line.

The shy girl timidly raised her hand—just a little, barely past her shoulder."I–I can be n–next," she stammered, her voice a trembling whisper.

She stepped forward, almost melting into her oversized cloak, the color of morning mist. The hood sagged low over her face, casting it in shadow, as if she hoped to vanish beneath it. A faded linen dress peeked out at the hem, its cuffs frayed from wear, and her boots—scuffed and too large—thudded softly with each hesitant step. At her side swung a small satchel, the leather worn smooth where her fingers had fidgeted nervously, over and over. A single charm—a dull silver feather—dangled from the strap, trembling with her.

The Magician beamed and clapped his hands. "Wonderful! Show us the spell you're most proud of."

Then, stepping closer, he leaned down and whispered gently in her ear, "You don't have to explain it if you don't want to."

A faint smile flickered on her lips as she whispered back, "T–thank you. I'll need a... a helper for my magic."

"Ah! Then, Mr. Wax," the magician turned with a flourish, "would you kindly hop onto the young lady's hand?"

"Aelia," she murmured.

"Onto Aelia's hand!" the magician repeated with flair.

Wax stood with a stretch and a smug grin. "Well, if I must—this hand is officially mine!"

As Aelia slowly extended her hand, Wax leapt up in one elegant bound, landing on her palm with the grace only a talking cat in a tiny cape could manage. Somehow, impossibly, he sat there—perfectly balanced, tail curled, as if this were the most natural thing in the world.

Luna bit the inside of her cheek. Her hands itched to pet him, but she knew better than to interrupt brilliance at work.

She raised her left hand and gently shook the cat's paw.

Suddenly, Wax began to fade.

His eyes widened in confusion as he looked down at his paws, which were swiftly turning transparent. Aelia, calm and composed, slowly lowered her arm.

The audience let out a collective gasp.

Moments later, the cat vanished entirely—except for his ears, which hovered in midair like two fluffy question marks.

"Th–that's all," Aelia said softly, eyes downcast. "That's... my magic."

Carefully, she lowered her hand and released her hold.

As Wax touched the ground, his body began to shimmer back into view, ears and all, returning to his usual smug, fully tangible self. Without another word, Aelia turned and walked quietly back to the line.

"That was amazing—a flawless display of Veil magic," the magician declared, eyes shining. "Utterly perfect."

He turned to Aelia with a warm smile and gave her a thumbs-up.

"Come find me after the show—I'd love to talk more about it!"

The crowd erupted into applause. Lively chatter buzzed through the audience, voices overlapping as they discussed the vanishing cat, the strange distortion, and the girl's subtle brilliance. They spoke twice as much now, as if to make up for their earlier silence.

The third man stepped forward with a polite nod and a glint in his eye. "I'll go next, then."