Blackened Sunrise: An American Weapon
Spin-off of The Itch's Blackened Sunrise
http://www.fanfiction.net/read.php?storyid=1020928
Please go read!
Chapter 1/?
In the good-old USA, wizards and witches are rather more lax than they are in England. So it's really not unusual to see them mingling in Muggle areas and not paying attention to what they're saying.
However, the rate of school-acceptances being declined is much higher as the American Muggles tend to think it's just some large prank. Thus, a great many would-be witches and wizards tend never to find out about their magical inclinations, at least not in the standard way that leads to schooling.
Rosanna (Rosi) was one such young would-be witch. In fact, she had known instinctively (as do all young muggle-born witches and wizards) that the letter from Michigan's School of Witchcraft and Wizardry had not been the joke her parents had thought it. However, few adults listen to an eleven year old.
So Rosi continued in her Muggle schools as though nothing had happened... except that she found herself drawn to paganism. One of the many magical outlets for un-taught muggle-borns.
When Rosi turned sixteen, she used her birthday checks to purchase several books she had been eyeing at the flea-market. Unknown to her, the vendor had not wished to part with one of the books, so had swapped the cover with that of one he had not been able to sell since he had come across it.
Upon arriving home again, Rosi did her best to ignore the screaming going on between her parents. Instead, she made her way to her bedroom and locked the door before pulling her purchases out and inspecting them. Only then, did she find the mistakenly purchased book.
Instead of "Witchcraft 101: The first steps to becoming a full-fledged witch", she had in her hand a book entitled "How to become a Living Weapon" written by some person named Scimitar. How odd.
With a lifted eyebrow (darkened with much muggle-makeup so as to upset her parents as much as possible) Rosi started reading.
And quite soon, she was fully engrossed. This was the best book Rosi had ever read! Unfortunately, she wouldn't be able to put any of it to use for some time, unless someone became her teacher.
But then she came to the chapter titled "How to Wake the Power in You." Ah. Perfect.
Quite rightly deciding to wait until the weekend, she spent the rest of the week (only two days) devouring the book she had purchased. She actually read it through four times in the two days, so that she would know all there was to know about this subject.
By the time Friday night came along, Rosi was fully determined to make use of her discoveries. The book had said that once she woke the Power, she would find herself changed, unable to return (without some help and/or time) to her former self. This suited her just fine. The book, of course, recommended that she find one of the all ready 'woken' Living Weapons before she tried to tap the Power, but when had Rosi ever listened to silly rules? Never.
So, packing her bag with her few precious books and some clothing, Rosi put on her coat and left. She was determined never to go back there again, even if this venture failed.
Glad that it was warm enough to spend the nights outside, Rosi made her way into the nearby woods and then to her favorite hiding spot, a glade in the center of nowhere.
Tucking her bag and jacket into the hollow of a tree, and settled down into the meditation that was prescribed in her book. Settling into the trance was fairly easy, something she'd been able to do since she'd turned thirteen.
Within the silence of her mind, she searched, probing for the Power... and there it was, bouncing about hyper-actively with it's power, it's strength, it's insanity.
She reached mental hands for it, trying to grasp it, only to have it bounce away, evading her efforts. With a calming sigh, she began to carefully stalk the link that was in her mind, patiently cajoling it to come to her while waiting for the right moment.
And then, she had it, it was hers... and no one would ever be able to take it away, never be able...
"They'll never take me, Rosanna, and now you'll never be alone," a voice whispered in her mind as she was engulfed in the thrill, the Power.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
She wasn't sure when she finally woke, but it was fairly light when she did. She tried to sit up, but groaned as she found herself to weak. In her mind, something hummed an apology.
'Waaaait a minute.... an apology?' she thought and turned her head so she could look up at the sky out of the corner of her eye without having to roll over. The canopy was lush, but strangely quite and the stars glittered brightly, like tiny suns.
Wait... stars? But... it was nearly mid-morning by the amount of light! Forcing herself up to her knees, she looked around, only to see the forest as though well-lit from all angles. How odd.
Shaking her head and promising herself to puzzle it out later, she pushed herself to her feet and half-spread her wings for balance, absently noting that she was naked, but not bothering to really care. She wanted to know why it was so light when it was so obviously night time.
Had she had a mirror, she would have known that her pupils were so wide that her irises were invisible. Her once dyed-black hair (with it's horrible habit of kinking and curling) was poker straight and framed her now-white (it used to be blotchy red, horrible really) face in a fall of blue-black that no bottle of dye could create. Her previously slightly pudgy appearance had been honed down to pure muscle and bone, and she was about six inches taller than she had been when she entered the clearing, giving her a height of 6'2". Her wings, purely angelic in style, were softly feathered. The right wing was a midnight black, the left a divine white. Her breasts, still the same small size, were covered in armor-like scales, the right brilliantly white, the left midnight black. Around her hips and un-mentionables the white and black scales mingled, hiding her flesh from view.
The voice in her head began then, whispering softly of the changes, the ways to manipulate the Power around her, the fact that her feathers were not as soft as they appeared and could easily slice through steel. And then, there was another whisper, a whisper of something called Balance. Where people would live and die, yes, but they would also have a reason for it, instead of no reason at all.
Spin-off of The Itch's Blackened Sunrise
http://www.fanfiction.net/read.php?storyid=1020928
Please go read!
Chapter 1/?
In the good-old USA, wizards and witches are rather more lax than they are in England. So it's really not unusual to see them mingling in Muggle areas and not paying attention to what they're saying.
However, the rate of school-acceptances being declined is much higher as the American Muggles tend to think it's just some large prank. Thus, a great many would-be witches and wizards tend never to find out about their magical inclinations, at least not in the standard way that leads to schooling.
Rosanna (Rosi) was one such young would-be witch. In fact, she had known instinctively (as do all young muggle-born witches and wizards) that the letter from Michigan's School of Witchcraft and Wizardry had not been the joke her parents had thought it. However, few adults listen to an eleven year old.
So Rosi continued in her Muggle schools as though nothing had happened... except that she found herself drawn to paganism. One of the many magical outlets for un-taught muggle-borns.
When Rosi turned sixteen, she used her birthday checks to purchase several books she had been eyeing at the flea-market. Unknown to her, the vendor had not wished to part with one of the books, so had swapped the cover with that of one he had not been able to sell since he had come across it.
Upon arriving home again, Rosi did her best to ignore the screaming going on between her parents. Instead, she made her way to her bedroom and locked the door before pulling her purchases out and inspecting them. Only then, did she find the mistakenly purchased book.
Instead of "Witchcraft 101: The first steps to becoming a full-fledged witch", she had in her hand a book entitled "How to become a Living Weapon" written by some person named Scimitar. How odd.
With a lifted eyebrow (darkened with much muggle-makeup so as to upset her parents as much as possible) Rosi started reading.
And quite soon, she was fully engrossed. This was the best book Rosi had ever read! Unfortunately, she wouldn't be able to put any of it to use for some time, unless someone became her teacher.
But then she came to the chapter titled "How to Wake the Power in You." Ah. Perfect.
Quite rightly deciding to wait until the weekend, she spent the rest of the week (only two days) devouring the book she had purchased. She actually read it through four times in the two days, so that she would know all there was to know about this subject.
By the time Friday night came along, Rosi was fully determined to make use of her discoveries. The book had said that once she woke the Power, she would find herself changed, unable to return (without some help and/or time) to her former self. This suited her just fine. The book, of course, recommended that she find one of the all ready 'woken' Living Weapons before she tried to tap the Power, but when had Rosi ever listened to silly rules? Never.
So, packing her bag with her few precious books and some clothing, Rosi put on her coat and left. She was determined never to go back there again, even if this venture failed.
Glad that it was warm enough to spend the nights outside, Rosi made her way into the nearby woods and then to her favorite hiding spot, a glade in the center of nowhere.
Tucking her bag and jacket into the hollow of a tree, and settled down into the meditation that was prescribed in her book. Settling into the trance was fairly easy, something she'd been able to do since she'd turned thirteen.
Within the silence of her mind, she searched, probing for the Power... and there it was, bouncing about hyper-actively with it's power, it's strength, it's insanity.
She reached mental hands for it, trying to grasp it, only to have it bounce away, evading her efforts. With a calming sigh, she began to carefully stalk the link that was in her mind, patiently cajoling it to come to her while waiting for the right moment.
And then, she had it, it was hers... and no one would ever be able to take it away, never be able...
"They'll never take me, Rosanna, and now you'll never be alone," a voice whispered in her mind as she was engulfed in the thrill, the Power.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
She wasn't sure when she finally woke, but it was fairly light when she did. She tried to sit up, but groaned as she found herself to weak. In her mind, something hummed an apology.
'Waaaait a minute.... an apology?' she thought and turned her head so she could look up at the sky out of the corner of her eye without having to roll over. The canopy was lush, but strangely quite and the stars glittered brightly, like tiny suns.
Wait... stars? But... it was nearly mid-morning by the amount of light! Forcing herself up to her knees, she looked around, only to see the forest as though well-lit from all angles. How odd.
Shaking her head and promising herself to puzzle it out later, she pushed herself to her feet and half-spread her wings for balance, absently noting that she was naked, but not bothering to really care. She wanted to know why it was so light when it was so obviously night time.
Had she had a mirror, she would have known that her pupils were so wide that her irises were invisible. Her once dyed-black hair (with it's horrible habit of kinking and curling) was poker straight and framed her now-white (it used to be blotchy red, horrible really) face in a fall of blue-black that no bottle of dye could create. Her previously slightly pudgy appearance had been honed down to pure muscle and bone, and she was about six inches taller than she had been when she entered the clearing, giving her a height of 6'2". Her wings, purely angelic in style, were softly feathered. The right wing was a midnight black, the left a divine white. Her breasts, still the same small size, were covered in armor-like scales, the right brilliantly white, the left midnight black. Around her hips and un-mentionables the white and black scales mingled, hiding her flesh from view.
The voice in her head began then, whispering softly of the changes, the ways to manipulate the Power around her, the fact that her feathers were not as soft as they appeared and could easily slice through steel. And then, there was another whisper, a whisper of something called Balance. Where people would live and die, yes, but they would also have a reason for it, instead of no reason at all.