Rhiannon turned her arm to show her aunt, but the cut was barely noticeable—only a faint scar was evident. Aunt K pushed her head forward and squinted.
The queasiness returned and Rhiannon’s head was spinning. What’s going on with me?
“It’s gone. It . . . it, uhm, healed.”
With one eyebrow raised, Aunt K wondered, “What healed? What am I supposed to be looking at here?”
Rhiannon was quiet. She frowned and stepped back, rubbing her fingers across her arm and caressing the slight indent imbedded in her skin.
“When I, uhm, woke up from”—she cleared her throat—“a bad dream, I had, uhm, a large gash on my arm.” She ran her fingers along the scar again. “It looked nothing like this, though. It was fresh and, uhm . . . much deeper.” She lowered her head and faced the floor, softening her voice and adding, “But now it’s . . . it’s pretty much gone. It healed somehow.”
Aunt K turned her head to listen, but Rhiannon’s quiet words were distorted.
Rhiannon pushed past her aunt. “And I have no clue how I got it, other than I had a dream where I was seriously injured in the same area, but—but how is this even possible? It’s like magic or something.”
Aunt K glared at her, wide-eyed and pale.
Annoyed by the lack of response, Rhiannon filled the awkward silence. “That’s where the blood came from . . . I think.”
Fearing her aunt was frozen in disbelief due to her crazy story, Rhiannon began to hyperventilate. She could not control it. Fighting against the incessant and intense breathing, she took in a deep, long inhale through her nose and held it for a moment before letting it out slowly through her mouth. She plopped down on the bed and began rocking back and forth. Her legs bounced up and down and she leaned over, placing her face into her hands.
“I’m so confused, Aunt K.” She dropped her hands. “I have no clue what’s wrong with me. I think I’m losing my mind!”
Aunt K rushed to Rhiannon and knelt down. “No, sweetie. No, you’re not.” She cradled her niece’s face. “You’re not crazy. I’m sure of it. But what’d you mean when you said, ‘It’s like magic’? Can you please tell me exactly what happened?”
Rhiannon nodded.
Aunt K sat down on the bed and Rhiannon relived the entire dream once again.
***
Aunt K glared at Rhiannon—bewildered, but surprisingly calm. Her expression relaxed and she blinked, staring down at the scar on her niece’s arm.
She traced the imprint with her fingers. “I can’t believe it.”
“Can’t believe what?” Rhiannon asked, cocking her head to the side.
Aunt K stood up and stepped away from the bed.
“Aunt K?”
Locking her attention on the window across the room, Aunt K ignored Rhiannon. She pinched her lower lip with her fingers and swayed, lost in thought.
Rhiannon tapped her foot against the floor and repositioned herself, causing the brass bed to squeak.
She stomped and slapped the bed. “Kavana!”
“Yeah?” Aunt K screeched, twisting her body around and grasping her chest. “Oh, sorry. I was just . . . thinking.”
“About what? If you know what’s going on, please tell me. I’m literally terrified I’m losing my mind.”
“No. You’re not. Trust me. I just think you did something—something you shouldn’t be able to do.”
Rhiannon motioned for her to continue. “And that would be?”
Kavana let out a long-winded exhale. “Okay listen. I’m about to tell you something. But first, you need to just listen.” She sat down next to Rhiannon but quickly jumped back up and began to pace. “So, what I’m about to tell you is going to make me sound crazy. But just hear me out first. Let me explain everything before making any rash conclusions about me or my sanity. Agreed?” Rhiannon started to nod but Kavana interrupted. “Please just keep an open mind. Okay?”
Intrigued but worried, Rhiannon nodded again. Her aunt continued to pace, but she stayed silent.
“Would you just sit down, please?” Rhiannon said, grasping her aunt’s arm and pulling her down onto the bed. “You’re making me nervous. Please, just tell me what the hell is going on.”
Kavana exhaled, sitting up straight. “It wasn’t a dream. I think you did something called astral projection.”
Seconds passed in complete silence as they both stared at each other. Rhiannon was stiff with her shoulders hunched over as Kavana rubbed her fingers along her jeans.
“What?” Rhiannon said, dumbfounded by Kavana’s explanation.
Rhiannon read about astral projection before in the many fantasy books she encountered over the years, but for her aunt to say she experienced this herself was too far-fetched for Rhiannon to grasp. Astral projection was not real—magic was not real.
Kavana was not sure how to continue. Astral projection was not something she was familiar with by any means. She only heard stories about it. Despite her upbringing, she never really experienced this phenomenon for herself, and only met one other person who was able to do it. But it was never brought up or discussed openly around her. So, all she could do now was tell Rhiannon what she knew.
“I don’t know much about it, honestly. I guess this is a conversation you should have more in depth later with . . . Never mind. Astral projection is like an out-of-body experience, but you aren’t dead. You’re able to consciously separate from your physical body. You create this—this astral body and can travel through time and space. It’s a power some people can master. A magical power.”
Rhiannon glared at her aunt, her eyes piercing through her like knives. Kavana crossed her arms, pinching and pulling at her shirt along her sides.
“Again, I don’t know much, but I do know whatever happens to your astral body also happens to your physical body. Which is what, I think, happened to you. It wasn’t a dream. I think you astral projected yourself somewhere. And by the sounds of it, I know exactly where. But what I don’t get, though, is how you were able to do it. You have to have magic to be able to astral project.” Her voice fell to a whisper. “It’s not possible. There’s no way her magic found its way out.”
Rhiannon flinched at her aunt’s words. “What? What magic? What aren’t you telling me? You talk about this . . . this astral projection thing, and now magic, like it’s real. What’s going on?”
Kavana did not move and her face was emotionless.
“Aunt K, tell me what’s going on . . . please.”
Kavana was reluctant to tell Rhiannon everything. She was terrified her niece would never forgive her for keeping these secrets. The truth would change her whole life, alter all her dreams and everything she worked for. Kavana was fearful her beloved niece would hate her forever. Keeping so many secrets for so long was not easy but dropping all of them on a person in one fell swoop was even more daunting. But this day was inevitable—the day she would have to tell Rhiannon everything and make the journey back home to her world. It had to happen sooner or later, but she always hoped it would be after Rhiannon had the chance to grow up and live her life. Kavana did not want Rhiannon to experience all the sadness, danger, and high expectations surrounding her life, especially at such a young age. She wanted Rhiannon to have the chance to live a normal life, at least, for a bit longer.
Time flew by over the last eight years, and Kavana tried to prepare herself for this moment. She spent countless nights going over in her head the different ways she was going to tell Rhiannon, but she never found the right one. She was never very good at articulating her feelings or giving advice. A hyperactive chatterbox who spewed out words, ideas, and opinions without really thinking beforehand was the best way to describe her. She was, however, a great listener and caring friend.
Kavana and Rhiannon grew up together, both learning from one another over the years. Even though Kavana was an adult when she took Rhiannon in at the age of seven, she was inept at raising a child. She lacked
stability and commitment. But it was not for the lack of trying. She worked hard at being the best parental figure Rhiannon needed, but both had to grow together—learning, adjusting, protecting, guiding, and, most importantly, loving. She never thought of Rhiannon as a daughter, or even a niece really, but more of a friend, a companion. Kavana feared telling the truth would result in losing her best friend.
But it was finally time to tell Rhiannon everything and quit being selfish. The plan had to be set in motion.
Kavana walked over and grabbed hold of her niece’s hands. “Get dressed and meet me downstairs.”
She let go and walked out of the room, closing the door behind her.
Chapter 3
Truth and Lies
An ice-cold breeze blew in from the living room window and brushed across Rhiannon's arms. The fresh air was necessary, but she was unable to control her trembling body. She wrapped her arms across her chest and pressed them into her body. Leaning against the window frame, she spotted a hawk gliding across the cloudless sky, its wingspan stretching out across the pastel blue backdrop. She welcomed the distraction. The majestic creature’s light honey and amber-colored feathers glistened as it wove in between the barren oak trees and lush pines. Flying closer to the house, the hawk vanished behind the trees lining the dirt driveway. Rhiannon searched, trying to find the source of her peaceful diversion, but it was gone.
Returning to reality, she analyzed the dream––or rather the astral projection theory. She was torn. What Kavana told her could not possibly be real, but then again, she herself knew it was more than just a dream. The blood-soaked clothes, wet bed, and rapidly healed injuries reinforced the theory. Maybe she really had traveled to another place. But how? How was this even possible?
The hawk swooped back into sight and Rhiannon leaned in closer to the glass. It circled overhead, dropping closer to the house with each rotation. She pressed her forehead against the window and narrowed her eyes, making eye contact with the hawk as it soared by––its eyes beaming back at her. She shook her head and stepped away, crashing into Kavana.
“Jeez!” Rhiannon yelped, facing her aunt.
“Whoa! Are you okay?”
“Yeah,” Rhiannon replied, trying to catch her breath. She stood tall and tossed Kavana a stern gaze. “No actually, I’m not okay!” Her voice was taut and demanding. “I need you to tell me the truth. You’re obviously hiding things from me.” Kavana began to pace again, but Rhiannon clasped her hands into fists and shouted, “And stop pacing!”
Alarmed, Kavana stopped and stared at the floor. “I’m sorry.”
“And stop saying you’re sorry. Just tell me.”
Kavana sat down on the coffee table in the middle of the room and patted the area next to her. Rhiannon stomped past her aunt, her arms folded, and sat down in the chair next to the table.
“Talk,” Rhiannon insisted.
“I—I don’t really know how to start—I mean, I just—I know what I need to tell you. It’s just—Well, you know me, I’ve never been very good at this.” Kavana paused, taking a deep breath. “So, I am just going to come right out and say it—tell you everything. No more secrets.”
Rhiannon leaned in closer. “Good!”
“Well . . . you’re a witch. And not just any witch, a very powerful one.” She stopped, noticing the blank expression across Rhiannon’s face.
Uncertain as to whether she should resume the conversation, Kavana cleared her throat. Rhiannon blinked, unfolded her arms, and leaned back into the chair. Focusing again on her aunt, she tilted her head and waited for clarification before responding. Kavana took the intense glare as a sign to finish her story.
“I know this sounds ridiculous, but it’s true––you’re a witch. Well, I wouldn’t say witch, per se. You’re more like a magical entity. You possess more than just the average witch. In fact, you could potentially have more than just normal witchy-type abilities. Much more. We believe you might have a magic no one has ever seen before. Possibly one of the most powerful magical beings ever to exist. However, we aren’t really sure how powerful”—she gulped—“because we removed your magic when you were young and permanently sealed the portals from our world to prevent your magic, and others, from finding you.”
Kavana examined Rhiannon’s face—which was much paler than usual.
Waving a hand in front of her niece, she questioned, “Hello? Rhiannon? Did you hear what I said?”
Rhiannon swallowed hard and cleared her throat. “O-okay, say I—I believe all of this—which I’m still debating at the moment—but say I do, then would you please explain what this all means exactly?”
Kavana was shocked. Her niece was surprisingly composed and, not to mention, she actually seemed to believe her. She stood up, but Rhiannon grabbed her arm.
“Sit!”
Kavana sat down and Rhiannon let go of her aunt’s arm. Watching her hand tremble as she pulled it away, Rhiannon jumped from the chair and marched back and forth throughout the living room.
“Listen, I want to believe you, but—but, I mean, this sounds crazy. You sound crazy! You’re claiming I have these—these magical powers, and I’m this all-powerful witch. And then, you say you removed my powers and sealed these . . .” She faced Kavana and scowled. “Wait, you said ‘we.’ Who? Who’s we? What else aren’t you telling me?”
Rhiannon sat back down and waited.
“Please don’t be mad,” Kavana sighed, “but there’s a lot more I still need to tell you—quite a bit more actually.”
Kavana cringed at Rhiannon’s sullen expression.
Placing a hand on her niece’s leg, she added, “First, I need to know if you believe me because everything else revolves around whether or not you do.”
Rhiannon hesitated, but nodded. “Yes.” She exhaled. “Yes, I think I do. I—I believe you.” She let out an amplified groan. “I’m not sure why, but something in my gut is telling me it’s true.”
“Okay, here goes. Now, you’ve got to let me finish before you ask a bunch of questions because if you interrupt, I might forget something. So, just let me finish, okay?”
Rhiannon nodded.
“As I said, you’re a witch. You’re from a long line of Fire Witches who draw their powers from the fire element. All witches get their magic from a natural entity. Your mother was a Fire Witch. She was also a Guardian. Guardians are magical beings who were chosen centuries ago to help guard and protect the portals to and from the magical realm. Kiluemar—Oh, my home . . . our home—was created as a haven for all magical creatures and supernatural beings. They could live in peace, practice magic, and not worry about being hunted down and killed. Now, we decided to bind—”
“Again, who’s ‘we’?”
Rhiannon no longer cared about the rest of the story, but she was now interested in learning about the people—possibly her parents—involved in this outrageous tale surrounding her life.
“My brother, Pavian, and your dad. We decided to—”
“My dad?” Rhiannon gasped. “Is—Is my dad still alive?”
“I’m not sure. He was when we left eight years ago. He wanted to keep you and—”
“Is there a chance he’s still alive?”
“Yes. But there is a lot more to all this . . . and some of it may be a factor as to whether or not he’s alive.”
“Well, what is it?”
Kavana did not speak for a moment. She closed her eyes, trying to remember where she was in her story before being interrupted.
Flustered, she began to ramble disjointedly. “Uhm, I don’t know if Will is still alive because I haven’t been back to Kiluemar in a long time. Before we left, we tried to bind your powers, but it didn’t work. So, your dad decided to remove them completely and send you away from the realm for your protection. The only way to make sure your magic didn’t find its way back to you was to permanently close the portals. So, we did. But, when we removed your powers, we also removed yo
ur memories, so you wouldn’t remember having magic or anything about—”
“So that’s why I don’t remember anything.” Rhiannon pulled her shoulders back and her face lit up. “This is all starting to make sense.” Turning back to face her aunt, she frowned. “But why did my dad want me without my magic?”
Unable to find a less dramatic way to answer the question, Kavana blurted, “The prophecy. Because he wanted to protect you from it. He needed to protect you. There was no other choice. We had to do this, and remove all your memories, to protect you from . . . the prophecy.”
Rhiannon cringed and her body slumped over. Her muscles tightened and her body filled with pins and needles as shock erupted across her face.
In a broken tone, Kavana continued, “I mean, we didn’t know what else to do. Your mother sacrificed herself to protect you. She knew if the prophecy was right, then a very evil and powerful being was going to come after you. But, if you’re able to astral project, then . . . then somehow your magic, or, at least, some of it, found its way out of Kiluemar and back to you. Or maybe it’s just reaching out to you . . . I just don’t know how. None of us even knew what powers you possessed. Maybe you’re stronger than we thought.”
Rhiannon was in a state of distress. She did not move or speak. Her eyes watered, refusing to close. Her breathing shuddered and became heavy.
Kavana grabbed her niece’s trembling hands. “Are you okay?”
“No . . . no, actually, I’m not.” She squeezed her aunt’s hands as a tear fell down her cheek. “My dad might be alive. My mom sacrificed herself for me. I have these—these magical powers which may be part of some prophecy?” She swallowed and closed her eyes. “That’s a lot to take in at once.” Swallowing again, she added, “I need some water.”
***
Kavana entered the room, holding a glass of water. She handed it to a dazed Rhiannon and waited for her to chug down every last drop.
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