ZURI

I’d been at this for a long time and I was getting addicted. I lifted my hand, and the wooden stool rose from the corner of the room.

A smile tugged at my lips as I flicked my wrist, spinning it slowly in the air. The heat in my chest swelled in rhythm, fueling every movement as though it had always belonged to me.

“Reshaalate,” I murmured, and the stool shrank into a block of wood before swelling again, stretching into the shape of a crooked bench.

I whispered another spell, ...