Looking around wildly, Chenoa could not see where he went.  Papa Bear touched her shoulder gently and, from his expression, she knew Tristan was gone. 

“Now that he has left, I think we should get down to the nitty-gritty,” Cor smiled, trying to refocus Chenoa.

“Okay…okay…”

“Ursa and I were sent specially to train you in our ways.”

“Stop!” Papa Bear interrupted suddenly.

Pushing Chenoa behind him, Papa Bea placed himself between Chenoa and Cor. Blinking, Chenoa looked up at her father and saw his face was still contorted in anger as well as fear. Papa Bear’s stance was defensive, and he appeared ready to fight Cor.  Cor looked at Papa Bear with skepticism and flexed his wings. Ursa paced closer to them, seeming like a large bodyguard or second defense to Cor, though Chenoa was sure that Papa Bear would be no match for Cor.

“No more!  She knows to be careful of Tristan and Nonelements,” Papa Bear said sternly.  “There is nothing more she needs to know.”

“Adrian Rose, you cannot stop us from doing our duty to your daughter,” Cor said in a steely voice.

“She is my daughter; therefore, I can do whatever I feel will is best for her.”

“And denying Chenoa her destiny is going to do that?  Have you forgotten all you learned in your youth?”

“My youth is not going to be hers.  I learned and traveled between worlds because it was part of my duty to my tribe, but that life cost me everything!”

“Our world cost you nothing.  Tragedies happen, Adrian. It was not something that could be avoided or controlled.”

“Couldn’t be controlled?  You didn’t have to offer my wife the ability to have a child without telling us the child would most likely die!  You didn’t have to tell my wife how to save our child at the cost of her life!”

The whole clearing seemed to go silent.  Not believing her ears, Chenoa stared at her father, unsure of what to say. Cor and Ursa glared at Papa Bear with unreadable looks.  It was a tense moment as Chenoa tried to figure out what to say.

“Aine was a wonderful and loving person, but she knew what she was doing.  Never did we trick her or mislead her.  Aine was no fool.”

“Aine loved too much and it cost me a wife and my daughter a mother.”

“What does Mom have to do with all of this?” Chenoa asked, searching her father’s face for an answer. 

“Your mother and I could not conceive a child due to some complications.  They came and offered to help her conceive through…uh…special means.  I was against it and said we could adopt, but you’re your mother wanted to have a child of her own so badly nothing I said dissuaded her. 

“Everything was wonderful, and your mother had never been happier but then things went bad again. Because of what they call your destiny, you got very sick when you were little, and we almost lost you.  Your mom and I took you to every doctor we could but nothing and no one could help you.  Then they came and said that you were special and because you were special, your body was struggling to adjust to some things.  That you were going to die.”

“What do you mean I was struggling to adjust? To what?”

“Due to their assistance, your body isn’t technically ‘human.’ And your…let’s just say, baby girl, you have a very special heart.”

“So, what happened?  How did I get better?”

His face turned grief-stricken and Chenoa saw his hands start to shake.  Pain rung through his body and Chenoa felt guilty for something she couldn’t remember. 

“Papa Bear, what happened?”

“Your mother loved you soooo much, Chenoa, that she couldn’t let you die.  So, when they appeared, your mother agreed to do whatever she could to save you.”

“What did Mom do?”

“She gave up her body to protect you.”

“What?”

“She died, Chenoa.  Your mother gave up her life so you could live…thanks to them.”

Changing the direction of her gaze, Chenoa let her eyes fall upon Ursa and Cor. Their countenances were serious and stony but with no hint of regret. How could that happen?  It didn’t make sense.  How could her mom’s death save Chenoa from dying?

“I don’t understand how that is possible.”

“Chenoa, what is deemed as magic is merely doing things through pure strength and force of will,” Cor spoke this time. “Your mother loved you so much that her will forced death from you to her, sparing you.”

“So, Mom died so I could live?”

“Yes, which is why I will not let them back into our lives,” Papa Bear snarled.  “I will not let them intervene in our lives again.  I lost your mom and I will not lose you!”

“Papa Bear…”

“It’s not up to you, Adrian,” Cor said rigidly. “It is up to Chenoa.  It is her life and her powers.”

“Powers?” Chenoa piped up, her eyes growing wide.

“Chenoa, you are a Spellbinder,” Cor told her in a profound manner.

Papa Bear’s grip tightened on his daughter as he closed his eyes to Cor’s words as if he could take them back. Chenoa looked at her father and saw the truth on his face.  She was a Spellbinder, whatever that meant. 

 “As I said, Chenoa, you are a Spellbinder, one of the last ones in existence.”

“I don’t get what that means.”

“It means that you were born with such a great will, you have the ability to bend others’ narrations to your desire.”

“What?”

“Basically, you are what people used to call a witch.”

“A witch?  So, you are saying I have magical powers.”

“That’s how humans see it but that’s not technically correct.  Spells are merely incantations that change the narration of something.”

“Narration.  That means the story.”

“Exactly.”

“I can change the story of things.  So, what?”

“Chenoa,” her father interjected, surprising his daughter. “Have you learned nothing from our culture?  Stories are the make-up of everything.  They hold tribes and cultures together and break them apart.  Nothing is more important in our world than stories.”

“The same for our world. Narration is the story that was laid out by the creators for every single thing in existence.  That narration is then controlled by the pure will of the creator since we are all given free will,” Cor continued.

“Okay, so we all have a story that is laid out for us, but our wills are what makes us follow or not follow the story,” Chenoa repeated to show she understood.

“Correct. That is why a tree almost always acts like a tree and a tiger almost always acts like a tiger.  Their will is not strong enough to change their story.”

“But a Spellbinder does?”

“Yes. Take this as an example. See these leaves on the ground.  Their story says they were meant to grow and live on the tree then fall to the ground.  Yet people with ‘magic,’ like Spellbinders, can alter that story at the present.”

“How?”

“Say you look at a leaf and decide, no I don’t want you to lie on the ground.  I want you to float in the air or twirl around.  That is not its natural story, so you must change it with your will.”

“How?”

“Well, most ‘magical’ creatures must say it out loud to impose their will on others.  The stronger they are, the less they need to say. They merely need to think it with the intent.”

“Why is thinking it harder than saying it?”

“Words since the beginning of time have held life and will unto themselves.  That is why being able to talk is such a significant thing and why animals, who cannot talk, have never possessed ‘magic.’”

“And thinking?”

“Thinking a spell is using only your own force of will versus your will combined with the words’ will.”

Pausing, Chenoa looked at her father, who seemed angry but was biting his tongue.  To Chenoa, though, this information seemed overwhelming and confusing.  How could someone control things by sheer will alone?  How could she have such abilities?

“Okay…even if this is all possible…”

Cor laughed richly and for some reason, this comforted Chenoa. 

“You question its possibility while you look at me, a man with wings, and a dragon?”

“This could be a dream. I could have never woken up from my sleep and I am imagining all of this.”

“Chenoa, baby girl,” her father sighed in resignation. “You are not dreaming.”

 “So, what that I am Spellbinder?” Chenoa restarted the conversation with Cor. “What does that mean?”

“It is important because only about a handful of Spellbinders still exist.  They are very rare.”

“Why?”

“People were afraid of them and killed them in this realm.  In the other realm, people were scared or jealous and killed them.  Some killed them for the challenge.  Others consumed them to steal their powers. While still others captured and enslaved them to abuse their powers.  Spellbinders became almost like endangered creatures.”

“Then why have you and Ursa come to guard me as you say?”

“You are special Spellbinder, Chenoa.  It’s hard to explain why, but I need you to trust me.”

Biting her lip, Chenoa looked at the intimidating dragon that watched and waited behind them as they spoke.  Searching the dragon’s eyes, Chenoa felt as if there was something there, some kindness or intelligence that knew what she was feeling.  There was comfort in the dragon’s eyes.  Refocusing on Cor, Chenoa searched his eyes as well.  His eyes, despite their brightness, were calm and warm. Something in his eyes made her feel safe and cared for.  Though it made no sense, Chenoa felt she did trust him. 

“You don’t have to do anything, baby girl,” her father interjected quickly.  “You can walk away and just live as you are now. I would say I forbid it, but that would be a stupid thing to tell a teenager.  I do not want you to.  I don’t want you anywhere near this. You can tell them no and live a normal, safe life.”

“You are wrong, Adrian,” Cor shook his head. “By having her pretend not to have her abilities and denying her the chance to train, you are only opening her up to dangers that you can’t even imagine.”

“She is my daughter and I will protect her.”

Adrian and Cor got close to each other’s faces.  Chenoa’s father had his shoulders back in aggression and Cor had his wings unfurled.  They were so heated in their argument about Chenoa’s future that they didn’t even notice Chenoa. She backed away from them and edged away.  Something long and cool wrapped around Chenoa’s waist and hips.  Looking down Chenoa saw Ursa’s long tail.  Freezing in fear, Chenoa couldn’t move as the tail pulled her close to the beast. The large dragon lowered her head and inspected Chenoa with her intelligent eyes.  Slowly, Chenoa placed her hand on the scaly tail, s small gasp slipping through her lips as the scales instantly changed to soft short silken fur. Analyzing each other, Ursa and Chenoa forgot about the men arguing behind them. 

“No one has asked Chenoa what she wants,” Ursa growled in a gravelly voice that sounded like noise vibrating in a cave.

Cor and Papa Bear stopped talking and turned around to look at Chenoa and Ursa.  Delicately, Ursa pushed Chenoa’s hair back with a talon of her gigantic claw.  This time Chenoa didn’t flinch.  There was something caring and gentle about the dragon.  Walking to them, Cor and Papa Bear appeared as if they were embarrassed.

“Ursa,” Chenoa said, ignoring the two men. “Did you know my mother?”

“Only a little,” she responded honestly.

“Did she regret dying?”

“No, little one.  Her spirit smiles on you every day.  Even I could see that from my tree.”

“Do you think I should be a Spellbinder?”

“It is not something you should or shouldn’t be. It is who you are.  You can deny it, but it doesn’t change who you are.  I may not wish to be an intimidating creature, but I am.”

“Are you sure I am a Spellbinder?”

“There is no doubt.”

“And that I need protection?”

“There are many dangers out there for Spellbinders, especially you.”

“Why?  Am I that special?”

“It’s not about being special, Chenoa.  It’s about people fearing your powers.  You are a unique person, but others make you special by their fears or dreams of you.”

“Will you stay by my side forever?”

Ursa blinked as if startled by the question.  Her eyes echoed some memory that caused momentary sadness.  Then the dragon smiled in her reptilian way and nodded.

“I will stay by your side as long as you want me.”

“Okay.”

Chenoa laid her hand on top of Ursa’s muzzle. 

“Forgive me, Papa Bear,” Chenoa sighed, not looking away from Ursa.