Chapter 2
Lady Katherine Pryde flicked her wand towards the candle that had been sitting unlit upon the table, she frowned, deep in concentration, "Incendia quod flamma!" she cried at the candle, and pouted as nothing happened, "I can't DO this!" she yelled at her instructor and tossed her wand to the floor. It bounced off the floorboards and then landed with a rattle and rolled away under the table.
Charles Xavier, her tutor, shook his head, "no no no, child, it's ALL in the way you wave the wand, don't just flick it quickly, slow and simple. Magic cannot be rushed," he said firmly, he gestured to the wand, "and do not treat your wand in such a way, that is no ordinary piece of wood."
Katherine sighed, picked up the wand it down on the table, "I'm sorry, Magus," she uttered softly, she crossed the room towards the large windows, the shutters tightly closed. Magic was strictly forbidden in Bayville, and those who could perform it were incarcerated and executed. Thus the windows would always remain closed during magic tuition.
The train of her deep gold brocade dress trailing behind her, and she approached the shutters, and opened them widely, letting the sunlight stream in. She gazed outside down into the busy streets of Bayville. The Magus' residence stood on the edge of the market square. Women rushed back and fourth, shivering in their shawls and wraps, bartering with food stall owners and choosing linens for their clothes.
"I sense your mind is elsewhere today, my Lady," Magus Xavier stated, he remained in the seat he was burdened to, he'd lost the use of his legs many years before.
Katherine smiled, it was sometimes unnerving but occasionally comforting when the one person who understood her could read her mind. A gift the Magus had been blessed with.
"What is troubling you, my Lady?" Magus Xavier asked, he gestured her to come over.
Katherine left the window and came to him, drew herself a chair and sat primly, hands on the lap of her brocade skirt, "I'm concerned, Magus. This battle in the North…almost all the men from the village have gone..." looked down, her long dark lashes seemed to almost caress her cheeks. "I begged Piotr not to go…he's not ready for battle…he's barely been in training for a year."
"He's a large man, Katherine, tall as a tree, strong and brave, and he fights for a cause," Magus Xavier reached over and took her small hands within his and squeezed them comfortingly.
Katherine raised her sapphire eyes up to the Magus's cool blue eyes, and faltered for a moment, "none of us know who our men are facing against, Magus, not even the men themselves know…"
"Dark forces, lady. Dark forces," the Magus smiled.
"There's been no word from the men since eight days ago…" Katherine chewed her lip, "I would have gone, had I been but ready," she confessed.
Magus Xavier nodded, "the men would have not accepted you…this village…this land…is not ready for magic…but when the time comes and Bayville is ready to accept your talent, you must be ready," he said tenderly, "Have…you been practicing your own magic?"
Katherine turned and stared, it had been a while since together the Magus and herself had discovered her ability to move freely through objects almost like a ghost. She had almost forgotten, there had been so much more on her mind. "No…" she sighed, "I need to hold my breath to pass through objects, and…well," she felt her face growing hot, "my waist cinchers and tight bodices hardly leave room for breathing," she explained.
Magus Xavier nodded, "practice at night, when you can be free of clothing restraints."
"Magus!" Katherine's cheeks flushed deep crimson, she headed for the door.
He smiled, "Have I embarrassed you? I meant not to. I would suggest perhaps in your night clothing…"
Katherine pulled the door open, "I must go…"
"Do not forget your wand," the Magus gestured towards the table.
Katherine laughed nervously, "sorry…" she hurried to the table and slipped it up the sleeve of her dress to hide it from public view, "I'll be back again tomorrow…"
Rogue handed over two copper coins to the baker for a small loaf of bread and sighed to herself unhappily. She'd been trying to barter, but the baker was having none of it. She placed the bread in the basket hanging from her arm, and set off on her way. She still had things to buy.
Paying full price for bread had always fine when Logan was in Bayville but now, it was severely depressing. There was always enough money for food when Logan was present but now was not the case. Rogue began to fret, the money was barely lasting eight days after Logan's departure and there was no real telling how long he'd be gone – or even if he ever would return.
Rogue had tried offering her needling services at the tailor but there had been no positions available. Almost every woman in Bayville knew how to use a needle and thread, and with almost every man in Bayville gone to battle, all the women had taken to looking for work to cope with the costs of living.
Every available job in Bayville village had been taken, farm work, sewing, weaving, baking…there seemed to be no end to the filled positions. Rogue despaired, she was never going to cope.
I should have gone to the Battle WITH Logan, Rogue decided, snowflakes kissed her bare cheeks as she headed along the edge of the town square towards the candle makers shop on Rose street. The air was bitterly cold, and Rogue's bare fingers burned as did her toes beneath her flimsy cloth boots.
The warmth in the candle makers shop was welcoming as was the familiar face of Scott Summers who was positioned at the counter as always. As Rogue pushed open the wooden framed thick stained glass door, a little bell sounded, and Scott Summers turned his head towards the door.
Rogue smiled a little, although he'd never know that smile was there unless she opened her mouth. Scott had not been in Bayville for long. He'd come in with his father, who'd bought the candle makers shop from an elderly man who'd been retiring. At the moment, Scott was in charge of the shop because his father had gone to battle, with almost every other man in Bayville. Scott had remained, being blind was no good to anyone in battle.
Scott would wear a strip of grey rag tied over his eyes and he'd use his hands to feel his way around the shop. Rogue thought it would be rude to ask how he'd become blinded and so it remained a mystery to her.
"Greetings, Rogue," Scott said, his voice was soft but clear, and full of seriousness.
"How'd you know it was me?" Rogue asked, she stepped over, placing her basket on the countertop, she walked over to a rail, several candles were hanging by their wicks from the rails, different lengths and thicknesses, some moulded with intricate designs, others smooth and perfect.
"You always have a distinct scent of furniture wax," Scott replied simply.
Rogue's cheeks flushed scarlet, he was right of course, although it wasn't noticeable unless you stood close enough.
Logan had always been most particular about Rogue's cleaning, and all the furniture in the cottage he had built himself. From the carved chairs, smooth tables, sturdy oak bedframes to the filigree window shutters, the fan carved bevelled panelled doors, and the sturdy staircase and its intricate rail. Everything had to be polished with wax, no matter how long it took.
"Yes," Rogue said, she picked up six candles from the rail and walked over, "Logan likes me to polish all the furniture in his house," she explained as she placed the candles on the counter. "He says its bad business if someone should come to the cottage to ask him to build something and see badly cared for furniture."
Scott placed his hands down on the counter, felt around and found the candles, examining them with his fingers. "Is Logan in battle with the others?"
Rogue nodded, but then blushed remembering he would not see this, "yes, he is…" she answered nervously, she put down the accurate coinage for the candles.
"Aren't you scared, sitting up in that cottage all alone? It being right next to the Forest and all," Scott asked.
"The Forest has never bothered me much. Trees don't scare me," Rogue confessed, she watched Scott's fingers trail across the coins, then pick them up and put them into a small wooden box that had a lock on it. Rogue picked the candles up and put them into the basket.
"It's what lives in the thickets of those trees that would bother me," Scott replied and put the box away behind the counter.
Rogue put the basket back on her arm, "the only thing that really bothers me is the cost of living. Logan's gone, no money is being brought in and I can't find any work."
"I wish I could help you, Rogue," Scott sighed softly, "unfortunately there's barely enough work here for me to do and the cost of wax has gone up because now the beekeepers have to come in from outside of Bayville, it takes longer to deliver – I can't afford to take on an assistant right now."
"I understand," Rogue gave a distant sigh, "thanks anyway, Scott."
Rogue left the shop feeling crestfallen, even Scott Summers had no place for her in his shop, or in his life for that matter. Rogue had always had feelings for him, but she'd never found the courage to tell him. Traditionally it was a man who would do the wooing, not the other way around.
What would I do with him? Every time I've ever touched someone they've gotten hurt. I'm cursed, and nothing seems to lift it, she thought as she walked along. This curse was something that had hung over Rogue's head all her life. As her skin would brush against another's she'd feel their energy, and their talents and skills would temporarily become hers – it may have seemed a blessing if the memories of the individual did not also plague her, and every time it happened, pieces of those memories would remain with her forever, haunting her.
Rogue was almost sure this is how she'd become an orphan, she thought possibly she maybe had accidentally killed her parents with this curse, or they'd abandoned her because of it.
If it had not been for Logan travelling from the West returning from a battle, she may have died out in the cold, for she'd been found wandering down a road in the pouring rain. She'd been but three years old, and had not been able to speak to even tell Logan her name. He'd taught her all he'd known, and brought her up like his own daughter. He'd named her Rogue because at the age of three she'd been a trouble maker, climbing onto tables, knocking over chairs, always up to some mischief.
She was dwelling on those thoughts as she continued her shopping trip, and wished Logan would return safe from battle soon.
Lady Katherine Pryde glanced up to the sky, a light snow had begun to fall down over the town square as she left the tower Magus Xavier resided in. She wished she'd brought her shawl, and scolding herself for never being prepared enough, she headed off in the quickest direction to home. This meant passing the dreaded fish cart. The stench was always disgusting, and Katherine hated it. The smell would cling to her finery and in her hair and she would spend hours bathing trying to rid herself of it.
As she walked towards that direction, she thought of Piotr and hoped that in battle he would survive. She missed him terribly and wished him back with her. She'd been in love with him since the moment she'd first met him in the courtyard. He'd been a new addition to the staff in her father's manor, a stable boy, in charge of the horses.
With jet black hair and eyes the most stunning shade of blue, every female servant had been swooning over Piotr Rasputin, but Piotr had always remained quiet and reserved, and would barely speak to anyone, even to Katherine. And on the rare occasions he did speak, his cheeks would flush bright pink.
It had only been in the last few months Piotr had begun to learn the ways of the sword – which was fortunate for him otherwise he would be going to battle with no knowledge of fighting at all. Katherine was almost certain Piotr aspired to be a knight, but even she realised his chances of this were slim. Knighthood was for those of noble birth, or for those who had been knighted by royalty. Poor stable boys rarely ever were honoured with the title.
Breaking free of her thoughts and pining for Piotr, she finally she approached the fishstall, and held her breath as she passed. Unfortunately, this was something that seemed to more or less automatically trigger her magical ability to pass through objects – and it caused her to pass through someone who had just rushed around the corner. There was a gasp as who had passed through her spun around, tripped and fell right through her to the ground in shock and she turned, she did not recognise the girl.
Rogue winced as her back hit the paving, and she tried to get up, "what…what happened?" she asked, although she could almost be sure she knew what had…she had passed through someone as she'd been walking towards the fish stall. Rubbing the back of her head which had taken a bang against the paving stones.
Glancing up she saw several unfamiliar faces looming over her, standing nearby, a young woman of similar age to herself was standing in all her fine clothes, a dress of deepest gold brocade with an intricate satin bodice laced with gold, the shoulders were winged, and the hem ended in piccadils. Her brown hair was pulled back in a golden lace and pearled snood, her eyes were sapphire blue, her cheeks flushed and her lips rose pink. Along her slim neck a fine gold necklace with a rampant lion pendant shimmered.
"What happened?!" one of the villagers who had witnessed the accident occur.
"They passed right through each other!"
The young lady in her all her finery looked around guilty, Rogue tried to get up but her back was a little too sore to stand just yet. Rogue felt it might be lucky for the young woman that they had passed through each other, any skin to skin contact could have caused a nasty reaction in the young woman, she might have fainted.
"Hey! Look at the necklace!" one of the other villagers pointed out, "she's a Pryde!"
"She's lady Katherine Pryde!" another villager proclaimed.
"Lady Pryde…" one of the villagers bowed humbly, "I do hope you weren't hurt…" he said.
Lady Katherine moved back a little, "I…uhm…"
"Magic is forbidden!" another villager yelled.
"Magic was at use here?" a law enforcer shoved his way through the crowd, he looked at both young women, clearly angry and distressed, he raised a hand and snapped his fingers, a further two law enforcers following. "Lady Katherine…" he seemed slightly embarrassed at realising who the young lady in gold brocade was and he bowed slightly.
Lady Katherine looked at Rogue, clearly panicked, then pointed a trembling finger at her, "she…she did it."
Rogue gaped, "you lying b—" she tried to get to her feet and as she stumbled she found herself restrained at each arm by the two law enforcers who had made their way through the crowds.
"Shut your mouth, peasant!" one of the law enforcer growled.
"Take her to the prison!" the chief law enforcer yelled, he gestured for the crowd to move aside to let them pass.
Rogue was dragged bodily, "I didn't DO anything!" she yelled, "it was HER!" she swung her head in the direction of Lady Katherine who was standing looking positively petrified, her blue eyes were wide, her mouth hanging open. Rogue turned, stumbling on the cobblestones as the villagers spit and hissed at her.
"WITCH!" they chanted at her with harsh expressions.
Rogue felt tears sting her eyes, when she turned to look back to see Lady Katherine, she was gone.