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Crystal Gazing
The open window brought a cool draft into Sybil's bedroom, extinguishing some of the candles on her desk as it did so. It captured part of the tarot deck resting on a low shelf, discarding them upon the stone floor, and then played with solitary strands of long red hair that belonged to an unmoving teenager. The attempt to rouse the girl failed spectacularly.
Sybil was silent, her eyes transfixed into a crystal orb, watching the foggy globe with an expression of anticipation. Goosebumps adorned her arms and her face was gaunt, skinny and tired. Nothing could pull her out of the trance.
Shapes, foggy and distant, were forming. A winged messenger… a regal lady… her own great-great-grandmother Cassandra… almost within her grasp. If only she could reach them she would be content – but as she extended a heavily spangled arm the images faded.
Damn! It was as if she was wrapped in invisible cloth like a mummy, tying her to the mundane world. The Sight was part of her heritage, coming so easily to Cassandra, and occasionally surfacing in scattered comments from her mother. But Sybil herself could not enter the layered realm of the future that true Seer's drifted into so effortlessly.
The family house elf was the one to drag her back to reality. The poor creature bobbed up and down, carrying a silver platter of food with an expression of fear on its face. Sybil watched it, dazedly, as it relit the chamber and left in a hurry. She nibbled at a bit of celery but eventually pushed the plate away, afraid that the substance would bring her back to earth, brushing away what clairvoyant talent had already developed.
Her eyes fell upon the OWL results that been blown off the table by cool tendrils of air. Her mother had been disappointed with them: not enough 'E's for her taste. Sybil had no opinion either way. Exams didn't really matter much, not in the grand scheme of things. Not when you had the Gift coursing through your veins instead of blood. Not when you saw beyond the veil of normality, like she did.
Wrapping her thin frame in another glittering scarf, Sybil settled back down upon her velvet cushion and relaxed. She would master this. It was her destiny.