#rayxappreciationweek2019

His right hand had taken it upon himself to arrange something behind the scenes. He had set up a meeting with one of the very few people in Cradle capable of teaching him. Ray had protested, but Sirius did not take no for an answer. He all but dragged him to the stables, telling him to get on his horse and get a move on. 

“Lance is waiting for you. Do you really want to skip this meeting and possibly offend him?” 

Ray had cursed those words then and he cursed them now. Sirius was too clever for his own good, and using it against him like this felt almost unfair. 

“Greetings, King Lancelot!” Ray called out to him as he rode into the clearing, guiding his chestnut horse next to the white one that Lancelot had already tied up to the tree. 

“Hello there, young king.” Lancelot nodded as Ray dismounted and came up along next to him, turning his gaze back towards the abandoned castle. “Sirius told me you would be here earlier this week, but I had my doubts about your willingness to go through with this.” 

“What gave it away?” 

“Him telling me that you might be several minutes late, and to not worry if that happens.” 

Ray smiled despite himself. “Of course he would, since he practically forced me to come out here. But, since I’m here, I can tell you my feelings about this in person.” 

Lancelot remained silent, a slight incline of his head encouraging Ray to continue. 

“I don’t need these lessons. We can just talk for this hour or something, then go home and report back that it was not a success and I should stop these before I get too far along. Nobody’s figured out I have magic. I can keep it hidden just fine.” 

“Nonsense.” Ray’s last words finally made Lancelot speak, staring down at him. “I know how little control you have over your magic.” 

“You-- no, you don’t. You don’t have any evidence to prove that.” Ray’s fingers curled into fists, trying to ignore the rising panic. “You had no idea until I told you the last time we met.” 

“Your attacks at the tower. Even after it was over, it was clear which ones were cast by Amon, and which ones were cast by you. Your attacks were aggressive, varied, and disastrous. While I do not know the specifics of what transpired inside the Tower, I do know that your magic is powerful, and that it needs direction and refinement.” 

Ray let out a slow, steady breath, trying to relax himself. Even as his nails dug into his palms, biting into his skin through his gloves. 

“Ignoring it will get you nowhere. You have to acknowledge it and control it yourself. It should not be treated as something you are holding back -- rather, it should be respected as a part of your being.”

“It’s a curse that I didn’t ask for,” Ray said, his voice tense. “I don’t need it. I can’t use it. There is nothing good that can come of learning magic, nothing that I can do to erase the horrible things I’ve done with it.” 

“I do not believe you.”

“What?” Ray’s gaze snapped up, meeting Lancelot’s cool blue stare. “It’s the truth!” 

“If I had to guess, I would believe that even you have had desires to know what your magic could be good for. You have thought of a thousand possibilities, of all the ways to use magic if it could be refined. What are those thoughts, young king? What do you want to use your magic for, if you could do anything with it?” 

Ray did not respond immediately. His mind was far, far away -- back in that hallway, standing in a sea of blood and seeing those who he had been trying to protect on the ground around him. Through years of nightmares, of the occasional whisper in the military, to feeling like less than human when he dared to think for a moment too long about his curse. 

But in the back of his mind, he could see a vision of Cradle. It had been there ever since he was young, since he learned about the war that had been going on for nearly five hundred years. It was a vision that he wanted to bring to life himself -- and for the woman at his side, giving up her life in the Land of Reason to stay with him. 

He couldn’t confess something so ridiculous to Lancelot. But it was enough to hold onto and believe in. 

“I don’t know,” Ray lied. “But since we’re here, I suppose I could try. If you are willing to teach me.” 

“I am willing to teach if you are willing to learn.” 

“Teach me, then. What do I have to do to use magic like you?” 

“Understand what we are studying.” Lancelot finally turned to face Ray, his expression serious. “To start: magical acts may seem like they have unlimited possibilities, but in truth, they can be divided into two very simple categories: production, and manipulation. Production encompasses the use of any magical energies, such as shields, magical attacks, and illusions. Manipulation, on the other hand, is the direct influencing of objects, people, and time.” Lancelot held out his hand, palm facing towards the sky. “The production of magic is easier than manipulation, because it allows you to explore your own magical energy and understand how it works within you.” 

Ray frowned, crossing his arms. “So I’m going to start with production. Makes sense. How am I going to do it?” 

“You’re going to start with this.” 

Lancelot’s eyes flashed red, but it was barely enough warning. A sudden spark of red energy burst from Lancelot’s palm, causing Ray to take a step back. The spell crackled in the air, gone as quick as it had come. “With fireworks?”

“It’s merely an expression of magical energy. Do you recall those magical attacks you were able to use in your fight? This is a brief, fleeting expression of them, and it helps to direct the source.” Lancelot touched a finger to his palm, circling it. “While you can simply produce magical energy from just about anywhere in your body, most magic users prefer to use their hands to direct their spells. Because of this, we start our focus on the palm, which has a larger surface area than the fingertips.” 

“Makes sense.” Ray hesitantly held out his hand. “What do I have to do to make it happen?” 

“Think on the brief spark of magical energy you want to produce. It is as if you are turning on a tap for a moment, then turning it off.” 

“Sounds easy enough.” Ray adjusted his feet, grounding himself. He stared at his hand, eyes flashing red--

A small explosion occurred above his hand, sparking and crackling furiously. Ray drew his hand back as the magic grew smoky, angrily fizzling out. 

“Well. It’s clear that you have very little experience in controlling your magic.” Lancelot smiled at Ray, who had half a mind to wipe that expression off with another explosion. “To produce something that large and frustrated shows that you have much of your magical energy left, but you are not connected to it at all.” 

“I don’t use my magic.” Ray’s eyes shifted back to their emerald green. “I haven’t since the fight at the Tower.” 

“Then try using your words to direct the magic. Tell it what to do, while thinking about that small spark of energy.” 

Ray held out his hand once more, doing all as he did before, save for a single word: “Spark.”

The spell responded, but it fizzled out, small bursts of light rolling pitifully across his palm. Ray pouted at it, closing his fingers over it. 

“That is an improvement,” Lancelot said immediately. “Try again. Do not stop here.” 

Each one was larger than the last, slowly reaching Lancelot’s impressively beautiful display. Ray felt his confidence growing with every incantation, the magic responding to his growing courage. Before long, it was a shower of glittering red -- and it was then that Lancelot told him to stop. 

“You do not want to exhaust all your magic before we are done. These first few lessons are not about pushing you over your limits, but exploring them and enhancing what magic you are able to control.” Lancelot stepped back a few paces. “So next, we will cover the basics of manipulation. Observe.” 

Lancelot’s red gaze looked towards a rock by Ray’s feet -- and it suddenly flew through the air, landing safely in his hands. 

“Summoning, then?” 

“Of a kind. We are starting with objects that we can see, since those are easier to summon than those we cannot.” Dropping the rock, Lancelot pointed to a stick by his own feet. “Try to bring this stick to you.”

All right. That should be easy. Ray held out his hand, feeling the magical energy sweep down his arm. 

“Come!” 

The stick shook against the ground, before rising in the air and coming towards him--

“Ouch!” 

Ray felt it hit his face and fall to the ground, the spell broken. Lifting his hands to his face to check for injury, Ray glared at Lancelot. “What gives!” 

“Forgive me, I neglected to mention that you should slow down an object as it reaches you. I have done this so often that it’s mere instinct.” Lancelot sounded more amused than he had a right to be. “Forgive me, young king. Let me give you another opportunity to try.” 

Lancelot threw something into the air, aiming right for Ray. His gut instinct was to reach out and catch it, but a different instinct took over at the last second.

“Stop!”

The rock froze in midair, inches from Ray’s fingertips. He gasped at the sight, scarcely able to believe it -- but it was then that his concentration broke. The rock fell harmlessly to the ground. 

“Well. You have better reflexes than I thought. It seems you’re connecting well with your magic.” Lancelot reached down, picking up another rock. “Do it again.” 

Ray caught the rock sooner this time, challenging himself to hold it a second longer each time. Letting it stay frozen in the air, the weight of it impressing upon his concentration until he would be forced to let it go and try it again. 

Their trade off continued in this manner, varying the spells that they used. Ray was stronger at stopping than summoning, oft neglecting to slow down an object before it reached him. A few bruises and narrow misses later, Lancelot put an end to their lesson. 

“Your magic is strong,” Lancelot stated with an impressed nod. “And you seem only slightly exhausted, meaning you still have much of your magical energy left. However, I have only one request before we part ways.”

Ray tilted his head to one side. “Oh? And what’s that?”

Lancelot smiled, demonstrating the spark one more -- in both hands simultaneously. 

“You need to practice.”

───────────⋆⋅♠⋅⋆ ───────────

Three weeks later, Lancelot was riding towards the forest clearing. He had left a little earlier this time around, surprising himself with how eager he was. 

These lessons with the young King of Spades were more entertaining than he had originally thought they would be. Lancelot knew that he was poised and confident, despite rumors to the contrary. He was well-liked by his people, encouraging people to join the army and keeping the interests of his territory in mind with every decision he made. Most of all, he was a proper student, able to balance the study of academic and practical magic, asking questions about the technicalities and challenging Lancelot to be a proper teacher. He believed that he had risen to the challenge well, even going so far as to study old texts and review techniques to consider introducing as time went on. Jonah was constantly questioning him about what was occupying his time, believing him to be distracted by something far less important, but Lancelot kept their secret. 

I am eager to see what he does today. Lancelot slowed his horse as he came close to the forest clearing, her neigh resounding throughout the forest. 

Which was followed by a series of dull thuds. Lancelot frowned, coming out of the woods and staring at the scene before him. 

“You’re here early.” 

“I just wanted to warm up.” Ray’s acted nonchalant as he bounced a single stone through the air, pointedly ignoring all others that were scattered suspiciously close to the forest floor. 

“If you’re warmed up, then I’ll start our lessons with a test.” Lancelot slid off his horse and tied her to the tree. “You can do more than that, and we both know it.” 

Ray closed his fist, the stone suddenly dropping to the ground. “Go on, then.” Lancelot gestured to all the stones on the ground. “Show me what you’re really capable of.” 

Letting out a sigh, Ray slowly extended his arms, eyes glowing red. 

“Levitate.”

Every single rock around his feet steadily lifted into the air. They wavered and trembled, and Ray grit his teeth. Concentration was bleeding off his being, fingers starting to shake after a minute. 

Only then did Ray release them, letting them fall back to the earth in a series of dull thuds.

“Impressive.” Lancelot crossed his arms, smiling. “Keep going. Show me how your sparks are progressing.” 

Ray grinned back, brimming with confidence. “Those are easy now.” Both hands sparked at his command, glittering bright and brilliant. 

“And this?” Lancelot’s eyes glowed red to match -- and a rock swept into the air, heading right for Ray. It was meant with proper resistance as Ray caught it his his hand. 

“Tell me you have more than just simple exercises, King Lancelot.” 

“Then give me a shield, King Ray.” 

A brilliant, shimmering green shield divided them, It was not as big as the ones Lancelot demonstrated, and it cracked after several seconds. 

“Better than last week. Now, your final test.” Lancelot stepped back several paces, summoning a shield of his own. “Strike my shield. Make it clean.”

Ray carefully judged the situation, flexing his fingertips briefly. Casting his arm back, he felt the rumbling spark of energy gather in his palm, crackling to life. 

He cast it towards Lancelot, watching it bounce harmlessly off the shield and vanish into the air without any hint of an explosion. There was no damage to the trees around them, no sounds that made the birds fly away into the air. 

Lancelot dropped his shield with a proud smile. “In just three weeks, you have managed to come to terms with your magic to use it in this fashion. While we have yet to cover finer acts of magic or deeper spells, your work is impressive. You no longer generate explosions or lack confidence. If I might ask -- what do you do to practice?” 

“I do it every night on the beach.” Ray lowered himself to the ground, a faint sheen of sweat present on his forehead. “And I’ve been dragging Sirius down with me lately. He’s great about monitoring my progress and encouraging me to keep going. Did he learn some things about magic from you when you were in school?”

“Magic might have come up between us once or twice.” The smile on Lancelot’s face told a different story. Ray knew the vague details of it -- Sirius had recounted a few during their practice sessions, telling him about all the times Lancelot decided Sirius was the perfect person to practice the occasional spell on. “You have a very loyal Queen at your side, if he is willing to come observe your practicing.”

“I told him it’s payback for setting this up behind my back.” Ray stayed silent a moment, then lifted his chin. “King Lancelot?”

“Yes?”

“You mentioned deep magic just now. I’ve been wondering -- when will I be able to study things like teleportation and flight?”

Lancelot frowned. Ray’s eagerness was expected. He confidently pushed through each new concept, practicing it to perfection. He came back every week more experienced than he had left, the rigor of self-study shining through his every spell. Lancelot did want to encourage it, but not at the cost of Ray’s confidence and health. 

“I’d say not for another month or so. While you are progressing quickly, the human body is a very complex organism. It is best to start with oneself when attempting spells that involve teleportation and invisibility, because you can connect with yourself better than those around you. They also take large amounts of magical energy. We’ve been working in small bursts, so that you can learn to control your magic on a small level before expanding outwards.” 

Ray nodded. “That makes sense. Let’s see if I can’t get there sooner!”

“So long as you ready to get through today’s lessons, King Ray.”

───────────⋆⋅♠⋅⋆ ───────────

“Why can’t I do this?” Ray let out a frustrated growl, glaring at the castle across the way. 

Two months had passed, and Lancelot was finally letting Ray attempt teleportation. He had mastered invisibility in a week, able to vanish himself completely. Objects were of no consequence, either. 

But he had finally hit his first obstacle. 

The light would engulf Ray, surrounding him completely. He had a vision of his destination present in his mind, filling his every thought -- but when the light dissipated, he was stuck in the same spot he had started in. Even if he knew the sensations associated with teleportation, floating beyond the realm of reality, he could not achieve them. 

“Teleportation is hard. It is the act of forcing yourself into a state that a normal human seldom goes and takes vast amounts of energy.” Lancelot sighed. “If it helps, it also takes a huge amount of magic crystals, and is why the general public still uses carriages and horses.” 

“Of course.” Ray grumbled, closing his eyes again. He could picture the stairwell of the abandoned castle, of how the loose cobbles felt beneath his feet. The sensation of moving that distance without too much strain. 

“Dammit!” 

“Give it up for today.” Lancelot gestured him to join him at his side. “Let’s test your metamorphosis.”

“I don’t want to! I know I can teleport! I did it before, when I brought her to the gardens.”

“That’s not the same. That was in a moment of passion, necessity, and need. It’s an energy and drive that you don’t have in your day to day life. Forget that time. In order to achieve teleportation now, you must get there with your current emotions. Which are not cooperating. So relax.”

Ray stared at Lancelot for only a moment, before letting his shoulders drop. “Fine. You said something about metamorphosis?” 

“Yes. Go on, let’s see how fast you can shift metals and fabric now.” 

Ray cast a hand over the buttons on his coat, the silver shifting to a shimmering gold -- and back again. He did the same to the badges on his chest, morphing their colors and their make. Lancelot nodded approvingly, then extended a length of white silk. Ray took a fistful of it. 

“Change.” The word came out on an even breath, the color slowly shifting to a brilliant pink. 

“King Ray,” Lancelot commented as he took note of the beads of sweat trickling down a pale face. “Stop.” 

“No. I can keep going,” Ray insisted, holding the fabric tighter. “I feel better about doing magic. Let me give it another go.” 

“No. I am cutting today’s lesson short and forbid you from practicing tonight. You are not permitted to strain your body any further, and are not allowed to practice teleportation unless I am able to observe.”

“What? That’s not fair! I need to study--”

“If you are trying to practice on your own time, you risk injuring yourself and those around you. These higher levels of magic are not to be messed with, and you are not under any sort of pressure to learn this magic.” 

Ray stiffened at those words, and Lancelot narrowed his gaze. 

“What are you trying to do, King Ray? What are you trying to achieve by learning magic? Do you want to take this secret to the grave? Or are you going to use it for some other purpose?” 

“... I want to use it to help others.” Ray’s voice was firm, assured. “I want to help the people of Black Territory lead better lives. I want children born with magic to know that they can still be successful in life. I want the opinions of those in Black Territory to change, to recognize that having magic is not inherently bad. But how am I supposed to one day tell my people that their King has magic?” 

Lancelot noticed the way Ray’s expression darkened as he asked that question. 

“You never have to let them know. It is as simple as that.” Lancelot kept his gaze trained on Ray. Your fellow leaders are keeping your secret quiet out of respect. They have not breathed a single word of your abilities. They are allowing you the option to make a statement, or say nothing at all.” “And if I decide to make that statement? If I do eventually tell people about my magic. What if I can’t prove to them that I am both capable and in control? Or, how can I admit that I have lied to them all this time?”

“Then you do not worry about such things. You are in control of the basic skills necessary to help your people. You have learned to repair and build, to restore, and create. If you want a break from your lessons, then you are welcome to stop here.” 

“Hell no, King Lancelot!” Ray flashed him a grin. “I’m here to surpass you, too! If both Kings of Cradle are gonna have magic, then one can’t be weaker than the other!” 

Lancelot returned his beaming smile. “And I’d like to see you try and catch up to me. If helping your people and maintaining equality is truly your goal, then we must perfect some of your less controlled spells. You best be up to the challenge.”

---

Their lips never parted as they stumbled through the door, blindly weaving their way through the familiar room. With a gentle nudge, he guided her down the bed, her auburn hair spilling over the sheets. Anastacia looked up at him with hazy eyes, her lips puffy from all of their kissing.

She reached up, running her hands through his messy hair and shoulders before sliding them in his shirt. He reached for one hand, taking it in his and peppered kisses on the inside of her wrist. Slowly, he made his way up her arm to her neck, encouraged by the sound of her delicate gasps.

It was like music to his ears and he wanted to hear more.

Ray nipped at a spot on her neck, his fingers undoing the buttons on her blouse. Roaming the newly exposed skin, his hands cupped her breasts, working her up until her nipples peaked and hardened. His kissed down her chest, taking a nipple in his mouth before playing with it using his tongue. Her body arched into him as he moved to give the same attention to her other breast.

The immediate protest he got when he pulled away made him chuckle. Such impatience in her voice.

Stripping off the rest of their clothes were easy. Settling himself between her thighs, he traced over her familiar dips and curves; the way her body trembled under him never ceased to amaze. It was enticing, almost teasing him--what more will you show me if I keep touching you?

One of his hands caressed her inner thigh, sliding up higher. He could sense her anticipation as he scattered kisses along her shoulder, stroking her clit with the length of his finger. Her breath hitched when he pressed down with just the right amount of pressure, making her grind her hips against his hand. Impatience won her over as she dragged her tongue up his neck before planting a kiss below his ear.

Two of his fingers slipped inside with relative ease, making her squirm against him. Anastacia wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him into a heated kiss. She moaned softly, squeezing around him as he stretched her. After a few thrusts, he added another finger, curling them to reach that sensitive spot. The way she called out to him was like a spell, urging him on.

Reaching out, she cupped his cheek as their eyes met--her golden gaze pleading, asking for him, wanting him just as much as he did for her. Who was he to deny his love such a request?

Ray gently pushed inside her, both of them moaning in pleasure. Tangling her fingers in his hair, she jerked her hips against him as he started to move. He slipped his arm underneath her knee, shifting his angle to thrust deeper. His thumb began to stroke her clit as she squeezed around him, crying out his name even louder.

It was intoxicating and he couldn’t get enough of her. No matter how many times they’d have each other, he would never have his fill of her. Craving, wanting, needing her. And she would always reciprocate and show him that she felt the same way.

He climbed the peak with her, taking her closer to the edge until she crashed in the waves. It gave him pride in knowing that he was the only one allowed to see this, the only one who could make her fall apart so beautifully. Anastacia held onto him, riding it out as he gave in to his own climax.