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Harry still wasn't entirely convinced Rowena was telling the truth about "no demons or goat-men," but he nodded nonetheless, eager to learn more about his newly discovered abilities. Rowena offered him a small smile, then rose to her feet and grabbed her cup of coffee. He stood as well, following her out of the room and down a set of stairs. They descended deeper and deeper into what appeared to be a hidden chamber beneath the old townhouse—three flights in total—until they reached an open space spanning the entire length and width of the building.
The walls below were rough stone, and the floor near the entrance was lined with worn cobblestones. Toward the back, however, cushioned puzzle mats covered the ground. Bright lights installed along the walls cast enough illumination for Harry to see everything clearly—including a large circle deeply inscribed into the mat-covered area. A narrow border of just a couple feet separated the circle's edge from the side and back walls. On the nearer half of the chamber, wooden shelving and long benches held various boxes, jars, and cloth-wrapped parcels; behind them, a jumble of pipes and wiring twisted out of sight.
Rowena led Harry toward the carved circle. He glanced around, half-expecting a five-pointed star or some ominous symbol, but noticed nothing of the sort. At her gesture, he stepped over the boundary and into the circle.
"Have a seat at the center while I set the wards," Rowena instructed.
Harry settled himself cross-legged on the mats. Rowena knelt at the circle's perimeter and pulled out a slender wand from her back pocket—a detail that reminded him sharply of the wizarding world he'd grown up hearing whispers about, yet never fully understood. She touched the wand tip to the circle's silvery lining, muttering something under her breath. A moment later, she joined him on the floor, sitting only inches away.
"What are wards?" Harry asked, scanning the circle. "I don't see anything."
"You will in a moment—that's our first step." Rowena lifted her arms overhead and stretched, causing her fitted shirt to tighten around her figure. In the cooler air of the basement, it became apparent she wasn't wearing a bra. Harry felt his cheeks warm as his eyes flickered away—he wasn't usually this distracted, but something about the atmosphere, the magic, and Rowena's casual confidence made it harder than usual to keep his cool.
He cleared his throat. "Should I stretch too?" he mumbled, trying not to stare.
"Only if you want. I'm simply getting comfortable." Her tone was light, but Harry couldn't help feeling a prickle of discomfort—all the more reason to close his eyes when she instructed him to.
He did so with a silent thank you, grateful for a reprieve from certain visual temptations.
"All right," Rowena said softly. "Now stretch out your senses. Listen for anything, feel the space, taste the air—focus on every detail you can perceive."
Harry obeyed, starting with the taste of lingering coffee and bacon in his mouth. The basement smelled faintly of stone and damp earth, plus the subtle tang of oil—probably for the boiler. Beyond that, he heard only a faint humming from somewhere overhead.
He tried to see something with his eyes closed, but it was just darkness. A long sigh escaped him.
"Relax," Rowena murmured, her voice carrying a soothing, almost hypnotic quality. "Don't force it. Just settle into the space."
Harry took another slow breath. After a few moments, he thought he caught a hint of a pale-blue glow. Each time he shifted his gaze, though, it slipped away.
"Slowly… calmly," Rowena said. "Wait for it to come to you."
When next he sensed a glimmer, Harry remained perfectly still. Abruptly, as though a switch had flipped, brilliant blue lit up the darkness behind his eyelids, streaked with white like silent lightning bolts. He realized he was seeing a dome above them, matching the inscribed circle's boundary.
"Holy… wow!" he blurted.
"You see something?" Rowena asked.
"A massive blue dome over us," Harry said in awe. "It's got these white crackles, almost like lightning."
"Those are the wards," Rowena explained. "They form a protective barrier both above and below us, keeping us safe within the circle."
Harry's mind flicked to the geometry. "Wouldn't that be a globe, not a circle?"
"No nitpicking," Rowena chided gently. "It's been called a 'circle' for centuries, and we won't change tradition just for you."
"Right, sure." He gave a small laugh.
"Now," she instructed, "look at me."
He turned, eyes still shut but somehow seeing in this magical sense. He nearly jerked away in surprise. Under the dome's glow, Rowena appeared utterly nude—though not in a literal, physical sense. Rather, the shimmering light covered her body like a second skin, leaving no detail behind except the outline of her curves. Her hair was rendered in simplified, flowing shapes, almost like how a comic artist might depict it.
"Wh-what happened to your clothes?" Harry blurted.
He couldn't help recalling certain rumors he'd heard about witches. Satanic rites, demon summoning… orgies. A flush crept up his neck at the thought. Surely she's not planning some ritual with just the two of us—although… would that be so terrible?
"I'm not actually naked," Rowena said, amusement in her voice. "Those are my personal shields. It's not practical to make them look like clothing, so we default to this… base form."
Harry nodded, though he couldn't deny a flicker of disappointment. Then he glanced down at himself. Where Rowena had that strange, luminous covering, he saw only a murky shadow. Right—he had no shields yet. He remembered her mentioning that was on the list of skills she intended to teach him.
"Now I'm going to lower my shields," Rowena continued. "Two things will happen. First, you'll be able to see the mana I'm generating. Second, I'll shed even more mana that doesn't resonate with me, which you can then absorb. Understood?"
"Got it," Harry said, wondering exactly how that would look.
In a flash, the glowing white-blue suit around Rowena vanished, replaced by a swirl of vivid colors. Her entire left side glowed a cheerful, bubble-gum pink, while her right side appeared a deep crimson. The majority of her torso shone a metallic grey. It shouldn't have been possible for grey to "glow," but it did—like polished steel catching bright light. Surrounding these dominant colors, countless smaller sparks appeared and drifted away from her body. As each spark floated free, it drifted toward Harry's silhouette, where it shifted into a warm yellow before sinking into his form. He felt a gentle, pleasant tingle each time one touched him.
"What do you see?" Rowena asked.
Harry described the vibrant, sparkling lights, the pink and crimson and grey filling Rowena's figure, and how the drifting sparks changed color before flowing into him. "It's like… you're full of these huge bags of color, and I'm just absorbing scraps."
"Ah," Rowena said, nodding. "Those are my mana stores. They tell you how powerful a witch is. If they're that large, it means I'm fully charged and can't really grow them any further—at least until I use some of it up."
Harry recalled her earlier statement that witches possessed between one and three distinct stores. Some had fewer, some had more, but three was rare and implied a great deal of magical potential. Judging by how tightly packed Rowena's were, she must be near the top of the scale.
He forced himself to keep gazing at the glowing manifestation of her magic rather than get distracted by… other details. If he was going to learn, he needed to focus. She'd mentioned using a wand sometimes, so maybe that would come into play soon. He pictured her brandishing a slender wand, channeling these swirling colors into spells—perhaps ones that could rival the greatest enchantments he'd ever heard of.
Harry took a deep breath, mind aflame with curiosity. He was new to this realm of magic—an untrained warlock by her account—and yet, for the first time in his life, he felt a prickle of excitement at what might lie ahead.
Harry noted how there seemed to be no spare space left for Rowena's mana stores to expand, recalling her earlier statement that witches typically possessed between one and three such reservoirs. Evidently, she was among the most powerful—one of the so-called Trinitaras.
"So," Harry asked carefully, "you're one of those… what, Tri…?"
"Trinitaras, yes," Rowena confirmed.
"Oh," he murmured, realizing that made her both exceptionally strong and quite rare for a witch. "What do the different colors mean?"
Rowena gestured at the swirling hues coursing through her form. "You're witnessing various types of mana, tied to different emotions or sensations. The way it changes color as you absorb it is the refinement I mentioned. Your own mana stores should be filling, though slowly, since mana weakens somewhat once it's been shed."
Harry shifted his focus back to his own shadowy outline. "Why don't I—?" He paused, noticing something new. Deep in the area he'd call his gut were three tiny, egg-shaped forms, not much bigger than small candies. Each one contained the faintest hint of that warm, yellow glow. He described this discovery to Rowena. "Are those my… resonants?"
She nodded. "Yes. They're small right now, aren't they?"
Harry could only agree—they were minuscule. Rowena offered a soft laugh.
"Resonants are like muscles, dear. The more you use them, the more they'll grow and strengthen. You'll have to absorb mana regularly—filling and stretching those reservoirs—if you want to gain real power. And believe me, you will want power eventually."
He nodded, accepting the logic. He was, after all, a newcomer to this strange world of magic—a "baby warlock," one might say—so it made sense his capacities would be limited. Meanwhile, Rowena's radiant aura looked fully developed, nearly bursting at the seams.
"How long before I can match yours?" he asked, then quickly realized the potential innuendo in his words. "I… I mean, your mana stores. They're, uh, not just… they look huge."
Rowena said nothing at first.
Harry flushed, stumbling over his attempts to clarify. "I mean—sorry. I didn't mean anything by that. Just… they're impressive, that's all."
"Harry," Rowena interrupted gently, though her tone carried a hint of amusement. "One of the most important lessons for a young man is knowing when to stop talking."
He responded with a sheepish nod. Given the sheer magical presence Rowena wielded, he decided it was best to keep quiet.
After letting the momentary silence hover, Rowena spoke again, glancing at the three tiny shapes nestled in Harry's core. "You notice you have three mana stores?"
"Yeah," he answered, warily. "Does that mean… I'm a Trinitara too?"
She inclined her head. "Yes. That's what surprised me earlier. A Trinitara warlock is exceedingly rare—much more unusual than a witch with three resonants. It makes you special… but also places you in greater danger."
Naturally, Harry thought. Of course there had to be a catch. No one discovered magic existed without also stumbling into some new threat.
"How?" he asked.
Rowena hesitated. "We'll talk about it later, once we finish here. You're safe with me for now, and once you develop proper shields, you'll be better protected. No need to worry immediately."
Part of Harry wanted details, but another part—particularly the one numbed by sitting cross-legged on uneven cobblestones—urged him to wrap up the lesson and maybe move somewhere more comfortable. "All right," he agreed.
"Good," Rowena said, voice warm. "First, let's determine your specific resonants. While you can absorb any mana and refine it, you'll gain far more from the energies you're naturally attuned to. I'll start releasing mana from different simulated emotions. It won't be as potent as if I were feeling them genuinely, but it should help identify what resonates with you."
"How will I know?" he asked, shifting slightly. "I'm already feeling a buzz when I absorb mana."
Rowena chuckled. "Oh, trust me—you'll know. It'll feel far more intense, and the resonant 'egg' will fill much faster."
Harry recalled the powerful vibration he'd sensed earlier, especially when Rowena turned around and nearly bowled him over with raw energy. Maybe that was one of her resonant emotions.
"All right," she said briskly. "Let's begin."
For several minutes, threads of glittering mana—almost like faint, pastel-colored ribbons—floated from Rowena's body toward Harry. She didn't name each feeling, merely allowing him to wait for something that would spark a stronger reaction. Yet all of them caused the same mild tingle as before; none made his tiny "egg" shapes glow any brighter.
Eventually, Rowena let out a thoughtful hum. "I've run through most emotions I can fake easily," she admitted. "There are a couple more I can attempt, but they're… personal."
"Personal?" Harry echoed.
"They're my own resonants. Normally, a witch keeps those contained; she doesn't shed them unless it's a genuine overflow. But I'm willing to try if you promise to respect the privacy of whatever you learn about me."
"Sure," Harry said, uncertain what could be so private about… emotions. Then he recalled that each resonant pointed to deeper energies within a witch. "I promise."
"Thank you." Rowena straightened, then wrapped her hand around her wand, pressing it gently to the stone floor for focus. "Here goes."
She rapped her knuckles firmly on the cobblestones. Instantly, crimson threads—bright and twisting—flared outward, arcing toward Harry. He instinctively reached out, only to gasp as they made contact. The jolt was far stronger than before, the red ribbons turning a golden hue as they flowed into him, pouring directly into one of the egg-shapes in his core.
"Yeah," he breathed, riding the surge of energy. "That's definitely it."
Rowena hesitated, her gaze flicking to the hand she'd struck against the ground. "Are you certain?" she asked quietly.
"Absolutely," he said. "Why?"
She sighed. "Those threads came from Pain—physical pain," she explained. "There are other types, but that's the one I resonate with."
Harry's excitement drained somewhat. "Pain? So… do I have to, I don't know, hurt myself to do magic?"
"No," Rowena assured him gently. "You don't need to feel pain. The witch does."
His mind reeled. He hadn't considered the implication that Rowena herself must have harnessed a great deal of agony to maintain those powerful red reservoirs. Suddenly, he realized how full that particular store appeared on her silhouette.
"Try not to dwell on it," she advised, seeming to sense his concern. "There are many ways for witches to manage tricky resonants, especially once coven bonds come into play. Pain is indeed difficult, but… well, it's too large a topic to tackle right now. Let's pause and get something to eat before we continue."
Harry didn't relish leaving on a note of newly discovered Pain. He much preferred to see if any other resonants matched his. "I'd rather figure out the others first," he murmured.
Rowena gave a small, resigned nod. "All right. Though I doubt we share more than one…"
She fell silent, and suddenly a wave of bubble-gum pink mana radiated from her torso. Unlike the previous ribbons, these traveled straight toward Harry unbidden, pulsing with a powerful vibration—possibly stronger than the Pain resonance. He let out a low whistle, the energy crackling deliciously over his skin.
"Wow," he whispered. "That one too."
Rowena remained very still for a concerning length of time.
"Um… so what's that?" Harry asked at last, uneasy. "Something worse than Pain?"
Her voice emerged softly. "That was Lust."
Harry found himself momentarily speechless. Lust was, well… obviously different from Pain—and more than a bit awkward to discuss.
He tried to form a question, but Rowena preempted him. "Don't get any ideas, dear. Lust doesn't have to be directed at you, personally."
He nodded, cheeks burning. "Right. Makes sense. It does sound, uh, easier to satisfy than Pain, though."
"Easier to fill, perhaps," she allowed, "but not always easy to truly satisfy."
He really hoped she couldn't see his face growing redder by the moment. "So," Rowena continued briskly, "now can we break for lunch?"
Harry almost agreed but remembered the final hue swirling around Rowena's form: that sleek, metallic grey. "What about the other color? The grey one?"
She chuckled. "That one's highly unlikely for you."
"Why? Is it… a female-only thing?"
"No, not at all," Rowena said with a groan. "It's just normally impossible for a warlock to share it. But fine, if you're determined to see for yourself, I'll let you test it."
He straightened. "All right—how?"
"Give me a command. Something simple and direct. Tell me what to do, firmly, and I'll comply. We'll see if you react."
He blinked. "A command, like… 'Raise your right hand'?"
Rowena nodded. "Precisely. Don't ask—state it. With confidence."
Clearing his throat, Harry said, "Raise your right hand."
Rowena promptly lifted her right hand. Harry watched in fascination as steel-grey strands trailed from her body. Encouraged, she gestured for him to continue.
"Scratch your nose," Harry said, voice more assured this time.
She obeyed, and more grey mana streamed his way. He decided to have a bit of fun. "Clap your hands."
Rowena did, and the grey ribbons touched Harry's silhouette. This time, the resulting shock was so powerful, he let out a sharp cry. "Gah! That's the strongest yet!"
Rowena's tone turned worried. "Are you sure?"
"Positive," he panted. "What was that?"
For a moment, Rowena said nothing. Then her voice came quietly. "Harry… how exactly did you defend yourself in that alley?"
He frowned. "I'm not sure I did. I swung my bag at the guy, yelled at him to leave me alone, but that was it."
"You must have done something. The space reeked of mana. Think carefully—what did you do or say before the mugger fled?"
He tried to recall. "I… grabbed my backpack back, swung it, maybe shouted something like 'Get away from me!' Then I felt so weak I dropped."
Rowena sighed, sounding troubled. "That resonant is Control. Witches generate it through obedience. In your case, as a warlock, it ties to an affinity we call Command—the power to compel others. And that, dear, makes you even more valuable… and more at risk… than I initially believed."
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