Chenoa’s Spellbinder Notes (Day 10)

Species (according to Ursa):

10)               MagicTeller

-       sounded like gypsies (or is it proper to call them Romani?)

-      travel around in large caravans, putting on shows to entertain and sometimes swindle customers. 

-      tell fortunes, read the future, and convene with the dead

o   this isn’t for show…actually one of their abilities (so cool!)

o   possess a literal third eye that allows them to see the spirit world which exists in the same world but a different plane

§  ? – so there are different worlds and places (I’m getting a headache)

§  Very cool that they only need physical contact to see someone’s future, past, or power potential/level

 ***********************************************************************************************************

For several months Chenoa became absorbed in her training.  As a result, many aspects of her normal life suffered.  While her grades did not slip down more than half a letter grade, her attention in school did and a few of her teachers called home to inquire about her.  Chenoa found herself constantly exhausted, trying to balance both regular school and Spellbinder school.  It ended up leading to more than one fight with Papa Bear, who had still not accepted Chenoa’s decision to follow her “destiny.” 

Gabby and Nick no longer noticed the shadows following Chenoa, because they had forgotten about them. After the incident when the strange man attacked Chenoa and Gabby, Cor had decided to block the memories in Gabby and Nick.  He had known Gabby noticed something that she shouldn’t, but, as Cor went to ease her mind on the day of the attack, he saw that Nick too had noticed something strange.  In order to protect Chenoa and the peace of mind of Nick and Gabby, Cor cleared their memories.

Yet since the memories had been cleared, Gabby didn’t have the faintest clue why her best friend was suddenly too busy to spend time with her.  The only time Chenoa and Gabby spent together was on the bus to and from school as well as their shared class time.  Gabby couldn’t help but feel that Chenoa was hiding something from her, and it hurt Gabby’s feelings that Chenoa didn’t trust her enough to tell her.  Such feelings started to create a rift between the two best friends, one that Chenoa wanted to heal.

“Why can’t I just tell her?” she asked Ursa for the millionth time.

“Because she probably wouldn’t believe you in the first place. Then you would try to prove it and someone you do not intend to see it may,” Ursa sighed in frustration.  “Humans, as a rule, do not like what they call magic.  They lack the abilities, so they deem it as wrong or evil.  You don’t want people to know you are a Spellbinder.”

“I would be careful.”

“No, Chenoa.  That is the last we will discuss it.  Besides you have other things to worry about.”

“Like what?”

“There is another Spellbinder.”

“Really?  So, I’m not the only one anymore?”

“Technically, this other person is not the only one anymore.  From what I have gathered this Spellbinder is older than you.”

“Okay.  So what?  Is it good or bad that there is another Spellbinder?”

“It depends.  Spellbinders are so rare that there are usually only two every few generations.”

“I don’t get what you mean?”

“Every species in both worlds is born in twos.  It is this strange cosmic thing that occurs, and no one knows why.  Now, these two don’t have to be born at the same time.  Sometimes hours or days can separate their birth, but occasionally it can be years, though never more than four.  Again no one knows why.”

“What does this have to do with me?”

“When we discovered or knew that you were to be born, we assumed another Spellbinder would be born in one of the realms as well.  However, it appears that you were born following the other Spellbinder.”

“Does order of birth matter or something?”

“No.  It truly means nothing, but, in this case, it could mean that this person has had more time to train than you have.”

“So?”

“At the moment we don’t know if the other Spellbinder is a good or bad one.  We also don’t know if this person will be your friend or foe.  We hope for a friend, but, if the Spellbinder is your foe, with years of experience more than you, it could be a problem.”

“You don’t even know if this Spellbinder is in this realm.  Me and this other Spellbinder are most likely never going to meet.”

“Oh, you will meet your opposite, Chenoa.  All people meet their other at some point in their lives.  The length of time and the frequency of meetings vary, but they do meet at least once.”

“Their other?”

“The person that is born as their balance.”

“If they are the balances, do they have opposite powers of the other person? Or what?  And if they are balances as you say, why are they born at different times?”

“You ask very good questions, Chenoa, but, unfortunately, I do not know most of the answers to be honest.  Their powers are not opposites all the time.  Sometimes they are the same powers.  Their abilities and powers are not what make them balance.  I mean sometimes it is, but it can also just be their personalities and choices. There is no one formula for everyone.”

“Okay…anyway, so what about this other Spellbinder?”

“It’s nothing really to be worried about at the moment.  The other Spellbinder is out there and must be aware of you now as we are aware of him or her.  We can only hope that this other person is either on our side or just not interested in you.”

“Our side?”

“Well, some Spellbinders in the past have found other Spellbinders to be competition or threats.  We just have to hope this Spellbinder isn’t that type.”

“Will I meet my opposite?”

“At some point, you will.  I don’t know when though.”

“Okay.  I think it would be cool to meet another Spellbinder.”

“Be careful what you wish for, Chenoa.  You may get what you want, and it won’t be what you thought it would be.”

Chenoa shook her head.  Be careful what you wish for was such a cliché idea.  Everyone knew it, but her life wasn’t a book or movie.  Of course, she did just learn she was a Spellbinder, which she had thought was fiction.  At times Chenoa wondered if she made the right choice.  Sometimes she thought she should have walked away.  These thoughts came on the days her workload felt as if it was going to crush her and on the days that Gabby grew tired of coming in second in Chenoa’s life.

Three months passed, and Gabby was fed up with Chenoa’s secrecy.  They finally made it to the mall, but Chenoa kept mentally drifting off.  She was exhausted and kept practicing spells in her mind. After the millionth time of Gabby asking Chenoa a question and Chenoa not responding, Gabby lost it.

“Jeez, Chenoa, it’s not like you’re even here,” Gabby sighed.

She stopped dead in her tracks.

“Huh?” Chenoa started.

Looking around, Chenoa realized Gabby had disappeared. Gabby stood in the middle of the mall walkway; her arms folded across her chest.  She felt frustrated, lonely, and left out.  Chenoa had always been her best friend since she moved to town. Now she felt as if she was losing Chenoa to some unknown force.

“What did you say, Gabby?” Chenoa asked.

Stiffening, Gabby tightened her jaw.

“Forget it, Chenoa.  I’m done trying to force you to spend time with me.  I’m supposed to be your best friend, but all you do is hide stuff from me.  We barely hang out anymore and I’m done trying. When you want to be my best friend, let me know.”

Spinning around, Gabby stormed off.  A crowd appeared as Chenoa tried to dash after Gabby.  Yet the crowd was so thick, it ended up buffeting her backward.  Stumbling, Chenoa tried to get her footing.

Someone caught her in hands like talons.  She gasped as pinching pain forced her to look up and back. A man with auburn hair and steel eyes looked down at her. His face was sharp, bird-like, and hard with a large hooked nose, razor-sharp cheekbones, jawline, and chin. He could easily pass as a bird of prey.

Instinctively, Chenoa tried to jerk free as the crowd dissipated.  The man’s grip held firm though and Chenoa suddenly felt like a mouse caught in the clutches of a hawk. Clearing her throat, Chenoa maintained eye contact, despite her wiggling stomach. This strange man never seemed to blink.  He rolled his fingernails across her upper arm as if he was drumming them on a table.

“I am sorry I bumped into you,” she finally smiled.

The man said nothing.

“Would you mind letting go?”

Still nothing.

“Uh, sir? Can you hear me?”

“Yes,” he replied in a voice like crunching gravel.

“Could you please release me?”

“You mean would I please release you.”

Bristling, Chenoa had a flashback to her second-grade teacher who would always correct her may’s and can’s. Taking a deep breath, Chenoa forced a broader smile.

“Would you please release me?” Chenoa repeated.

“Can you make me?”

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me, Miss Spellbinder.”

Heart-stopping, Chenoa felt her jaw tighten. His eyes didn’t waver or falter. They were hard and felt like a wall.  He leaned in slowly and took a deep slow intake of air, closing his eyes as if he really inhaled something other than air. The exhale of air hissed and hummed.

“I don’t know what you are talking about.”

The man smirked then leaned in closer taking another deep breath.  Faintly smiling, the man focused so intently on her that she had to suppress a shiver.

“Awe, but you do, Ms. Spellbinder. You reek of spells.”

“Who are you?”

“Don’t you mean what am I?”

Chenoa nodded, stunned.  He turned her around, so they were facing properly.  His grip tightened so much that Chenoa winced. The man seemed to vibrate with something that was making the hair on the back of Chenoa’s neck stand up. She felt as if he was just too close.

“Or should I be asking what you are?”

“You are crazy. Please release me.”

“I am not crazy.  I know what you are, even if you hide it from that precious little friend of yours.”

“Were you spying on us?”

“Aren’t you a paranoid bitty Spellbinder?”

“Stop calling me that.  You don’t know what you are talking about.  Please release me!”

“Make me, Spellbinder.  Show me if your will is stronger than mine.”

“What is wrong with you?”

Chenoa’s voice was loud and reverberated off the walls.  Her heart raced as she panicked.  What and who the hell was this strange man? During the conversation, her voice had become progressively louder, while his stayed soft and rough.  However, the people in the mall didn’t seem to notice.  They all kept moving around as if Chenoa and the man didn’t exist in the same space. Chenoa couldn’t see it, but there was an odd haze shimmering around them. 

“I said make me.”

His nails seemed to morph into sharp talons that pierced Chenoa’s skin.  She yelped in pain and surprise.  Then sudden anger flooded her.  How dare this complete stranger just hold her captive!  Chenoa may not know who or what he was, but nothing gave him the right to hurt her.

“Let go of me!” she screamed.

From her chest burst a wild energy as her hair whipped back in a violent wind, her eyes blazing in fury. The man was thrown backward, flying through the crowds of ignorant people as they continued walking obliviously.  He smashed into a large pillar in the mall, crumbling to the floor.  Chenoa gasped loudly, covering her mouth in shock and fear.  The man did not move.  Her body hummed and tingled with a heat that felt both pleasurable and intoxicating.  For a long moment, she watched the man, but he still did not stir.

“Oh my god!” she suppressed a sob.

Turning, Chenoa fled from the mall. Had she just killed a man? It hadn’t been her intention.  She just wanted him to let go of her.  She had just wanted him to leave her alone.  But the power that had surged through her body had been so great that she had not been able to hold it in.  Even as the words had formed on her tongue, Chenoa had felt the greatness of her will surging forward and she had tried to stop it, but she couldn’t.  It would have burst forth from her even without words.  Yet as Ursa had warned her, words have their own will.  The words combined with whatever power had risen from her belly and that power was scary and uncontrollable.  Chenoa didn’t like it.  She didn’t want to be something that powerful or unstable, because that is what it was. Unstable.  Chenoa knew she had no control over it.  If it happened again who knew whom she could hurt…if Gabby had been around…Shaking her head, Chenoa tried not to imagine.  Her father had been right.  She shouldn’t have messed with this stuff. It wasn’t right…it wasn’t safe.