I was put in charge of teaching the two of them meditation, so my parents went to take care of their own affairs, leaving me alone with my new students. The silence that settled in was strange—not hostile, just heavy with expectation.
"Well, the first step is for you to understand what meditation is."
I pause briefly, watching to see if either of them wants to say something before we begin. Elena looks ready to speak, but holds back. Gilbert, on the other hand, avoids my gaze, his body far too rigid for someone who is supposed to be relaxed. He is still apprehensive, just as I expected.
"Meditation is a form of self-evaluation. A state in which we learn to discard useless thoughts and focus one hundred percent on a single thing. When we do that, we reach a level of mental clarity where reasoning and memory perform at their peak."
As I speak, I notice Gilbert frown slightly. It is not disagreement—it is effort. I slow my pace.
"In other words," I continue, "it is a method of self-discipline."
I take a slow step across the room before going on.
"Using a hunter's analogy: when you choose a prey, you must stop everything. Breathing, noise, distractions. The body becomes still, the mind focused. Useless thoughts only get in the way. That state—the moment before releasing the arrow—is what meditation seeks to achieve."
I stop speaking.
Elena is leaning forward, eyes attentive, but her leg bounces lightly under the table. Anxious. Gilbert, meanwhile, seems to finally relax his shoulders; the analogy clearly reached him.
"Any questions?" I ask.
"How do we meditate?" Elena asks immediately. The question comes fast—not from impatience, but from anticipation.
"That's the next part," I reply. "I'll explain the method I used. It's simple, but it requires consistency."
She nods enthusiastically.
"First, sit in a comfortable position. The body must not become a distraction."
I wait while they settle in. Elena leans back in her chair, trying a little too hard to look relaxed. Gilbert sits cross-legged, posture firm, almost military.
"Comfortable?"
They both nod.
"Now close your eyes."
They obey.
"Imagine a flame. Any thought that arises, throw it into the flame. Don't fight it—just discard it. Keep doing this until only the flame remains. Nothing else."
I stop talking, and silence takes hold.
A few seconds later, Elena frowns slightly. I recognize the sign—youthful impatience. I had the same problem myself. Gilbert, on the other hand, breathes slowly and steadily. His mind is quieter than it appears.
I remain silent for about ten minutes.
Gilbert loses focus first, opening his eyes with a soft sigh. Elena… I've already lost count of how many faces she has made.
"You can stop."
Elena opens her eyes with clear displeasure, as if she had expected something more immediate.
"Don't get frustrated," I say before she can complain. "This isn't something you master quickly. Practice before going to sleep, when your body is already tired. It helps a lot."
"How long will it take before we can use magic?" Elena asks. That is what truly bothers her.
"It depends," I answer honestly. "My mother took one year. My father, a year and a half. But don't try to rush it. Forcing it will only make meditation frustrating."
She pouts slightly, but soon composes herself.
"And what are the benefits?" she asks.
"Improved memory, reaction time, and learning ability."
Elena's eyes light up. Even Gilbert looks more interested—the part about reaction time clearly appeals to him.
I hear Elena murmur, almost to herself:
"That already sounds like magic."
I can't help but smile slightly.