Chapter 44 - Furari Magicae (Samson Conrad POV) Pt. 5

A/n: Sorry just a repost for some who cannot see this chapter. However I will add something to the end for those that have already read this to think about. ##SPOILER##

Chapter 44 – Furari Magicae (Samson Conrad POV) Pt. 5

Life had a way of keeping balance.

Grandma Mary said that nature, the spirits, Gods, they all liked things to be equal. Making sure there was not too much bad in the world.

There was always a setback to an advantage.

Sometimes people would try to go around the rules. Making their own that suit them, assuming they had beaten the Game Master of life.

"Magic, the spirits and Gods Samson, they are always two steps ahead. If you go right, when you're meant to go straight, even if you try to hide your intentions; there will be a bump in the road. There will be a limitation."

For being werejaguars I never quite could wrap my mind around my parents unwillingness to have us dabbling in magic. We weren't Fae's but somewhere in our family there had been one. It was in our genetic makeup. However our parents, even my aunts and uncles, we left the magic to grandma Mary.

"With White Magic comes Black Magic."

I heard repeatedly so I had to eventually ask why it was okay for Grandma Mary? She used magic... right? Why was she allowed to?

"Your grandmother asks permission, she nurtures nature. If she takes energy from a tree, she will carry five bucket's of water from inside the house to water and care for it."

"She is not allowed to use it by our standards. She is granted permission from nature." It was hard to wrap my mind around a tree or flower giving my grandmother permission to use its energy.

In our small Den, if someone for instance, like Imogen showed even a hint of being magically gifted, they were immediately sent to grandma Mary. Though I think with Imogen she had just wanted to be safe and not sorry. Her mother was gone, she was a part of the Den, and she did not want to ruin or do anything to hurt the people she had left in her life.

Yet outside of her, I'm not sure I knew anyone else that sought out my grandmother guidance. Maybe there was more but I just hadn't been told or paid attention.

It's truly the latter I learn.

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After dads' impromptu after midnight meeting where he revealed Fatima's history – or minor history I should say – she retreated away. Although, I think this time it was to prevent the looks that my siblings were giving her. I doubt the even realized that they were doing it.

Still, for two days, she went to school, came home, napped, ate alone in her room and studied alone.

"Seriously, can you not look at her like that?" I finally just said to Harleigh when we were in the kitchen together and Fatima came down.

Heated some water before retreating back to her space.

"I'm not looking at her-" I lift a brow at Harleigh.

Scoffing, I shake my head, "I call total B.S."

"You've had how long to process what dad said?" she responds though it's with a playful undertone.

Nodding I exhale, "I'm saying this just as – not to rub it in your face or hurt you Harleigh," I preface my comment. "Don't you hate when people that don't know you're adopted learn you are and then look at you as though you are either a; somehow defective, or b; need their pity?" I keep all meanness from my tone when asking.

Really was not aiming to hurt Harleigh. I did however want to remind her that maybe staring at Fatima as though she's this roadside attraction was a bit much.

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A few nights later as I sit in my room doing homework, a light tapping sends my heart racing and a slow smile forms on my face. I know. I just know it is Fatima.

Jumping up, and nearly ripping the door from the hinges, I stand beaming at her my doorknocker.

I almost utter the word, "finally!" It's at the tip of my tongue, ready to just roll right off. Instead I bit my lip, standing aside to let her in.

Using my foot in the door trick, a cup of tea, she holds one out to me. A hopeful expression on her face as though I'd ever turn down spending alone time with her.

The absurdity.

She was already spending all her time away from me, and even disappearing during lunch only to reappear for the class right after. Then again, she could be making herself scarce since the Monday morning after the big reveal dad pulled her aside to let her know that Lydia and Lia would be attending our school, though they would have no classes with Fatima.

Sipping my black tea, school on my mind. Or where Fatima went during lunch specifically on my mind, I blurt out the first thing I can in the growing silence. "You don't have to avoid me – us – at lunch."

Her lips are right above the rim of her mug. Lowering it down to rest atop her lap she cocks her head to the right, observing me. Eventually she just sighs and shrugs. "I guess – I feel awkward now, your cousins are there and I'm there, and I don't want to see them."

"I want to spend that time with you." I say boldly. Then I fix the words to convey what I mean; "I'd rather spend that time with you."

Looking at her mug, as though it's the most interesting thing in my room, Fatima remains quiet for a minute or two. Waiting for a response, I sip my tea; almost assuming that maybe she did not have an answer. Or had one and could not say it.

"I go down to the home-economics classroom and work on my sewing during lunch. I have that project due... and now with my hand broken," she shrugs. "You can come down there, the only other person that's with me most of the time is Imogen and Lennon."

I smile triumphantly, already planning for tomorrow.

"Do you eat? Can I bring food?" I ask over eager, and I would do it again if I'd get the same light giggle that escapes her. "Well you cannot bring a six course meal, but a sandwich and bottle of water is fine," she murmurs as she lifts her mug to her lips.

Trying, but failing to hide the smile on her face.

I would say "you need to smile more..." but somehow I knew that right now, this one hidden, was real and true.

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I've analyzed the day my twin died more times than I can even count, or probably recall. I'd sit, wondering when? What time did he take his last breath? What was I doing? Then the thoughts would consume me and I'd push back further into my day.

Was there some sign that this was going to happen? I couldn't remember. So I'd push harder fighting my own mind to remember what I had stored as inconsequential.

Did the food taste differently that day?

When I first woke up, was there a uneasy feeling settling in the pit of my stomach?

Did I look at Silas and think, this is going to be the last goodbye?

Were there moments throughout the day where signs, any kind, of sign really, pointed to something happening?

It was endless. I would analyze as much of the day as I could remember. Working my mind until a throbbing headache accompanied every thought I had.

For a while, I became so consumed with looking for signs of things to come. Grandma Bess, I'm not sure how she knew, or if she did. Maybe I was looking for an out and I took her words to mean more than they did. "If you spend your time looking for one thing Samson, you aren't going to see anything else and that's when you'll miss out on something truly great."

I almost missed out on Fatima, I think as I walk to the Home Economics classroom after school the next day. I had been so focused on trying to just make it through the anniversary of Silas' death that I couldn't see anything else.

The halls empty, the classrooms just as bare, I'm only expecting to see Fatima, Imogen and Lennon in the classroom when I push the door open.

The room completely isolated, items spin, flying around two people that should not be within poking distance of one another. It was a clear order from my father. Lydia and Lia, were to leave Fatima alone. There was no reason for the three of them to ever speak. He warned them, and informed, promised Fatima.

I take in the whole room, Lennon and Imogen crying, screaming behind – but not full hidden from views – the instructors' desk. Chalk, rolls of ribbon, scissors, knitting needles all fly around the room. Circling Fatima and Lydia. The tables bolted to the floor rattle. "Samson watch out!" Imogen pulls me from the shock of the state of this room. Dropping to my knees I crawl on all fours, towards Lydia and Fatima.

"Divinum terrae deam:

Ab austro usque ad aquilonem,

Ad orientem et occidentem.

Da mihi virtutem."

I hear the words chanted, Lydia's lips moving while she grips Fatima's hands in hers. My eyes remain on Fatima, freezing for just a second when the greens of her eyes go to a milky white. "Fatima!" I shout repeatedly, worried, crawling faster, reaching out for her leg as Lydia chants.

"Ab ortu solis

ad occidentalem plagam,

septentrionem et meridiem,

Ego potentiam.

Ego potentiam.

Ego potentiam."

"Ab ortu solis

ad occidentalem plagam,

septentrionem et meridiem,

Ego potentiam.

Ego potentiam.

Ego potentiam."

I'm close, my hand just inches from Fatima. Instead I reach for Lydia, fully intending to yank her away from Fatima since she was the one holding onto her. She was the one chanting as Fatima stood statue still, eyes completely – fully – milky white.

As my hand goes to encircle Lydia's ankle, I'm forced backwards against the wall, a stool shattering above my head. Lifting my hands above my head, eyes still on Fatima and Lydia, the pieces of wood deflected fall over me and onto the ground.

"Ego potentiam.

Ego potentiam.

Ego pote-"

Lydia chants once more.

The words forcefully recited are cut off abruptly as forceful breeze emanating from Fatima and Lydia spreads out around them. As both girls fall to the ground, the objects flying around them falling noisily to the ground.

Five bodies in the room, but only four heartbeats sound.

Was there a sign of this happening? Had I missed it again?

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© 2016 roxann_season All Rights Reserved

Be honest... you're hoping that it's Lydia... right?

Or

**spoiler**

You're hoping Faith is having a Grayson moment?

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#MAJOR SHATTERED SPOILER#

#close your eyes if you haven't read it yet#

So if you've read Shattered... do you recall what or how the Six Souls chose bodies...? So... jump back to this book. Do you guys think Wyatt would really send Fatima to this Realm without a protective spell on her? For those that want to steal her power? If they thought to protect Six Souls... *hint*