A/N: Succubus, thank you so much for the kind review. you really do inspire me to write more :) here's chapter 8 for you ;)
Chapter 8
The early morning sun slowly ascended into the sky peeked delicately into Paige's room, sending thin rays of orange-yellow light on her bed and across the floor. The peaceful chirping of the birds filled the air, and the light tingle of bells filled the Faery Gardens below her window. A light breeze blew in, carrying with it the sweet fragrance of early morning dew and newly opened roses.
Paige slowly stirred from her bed as the faint light from the early morning sun stretched forward on her bed, caressing her face with a soft golden hue. She forced her heavy eyelids to open, and she rolled onto her back.
"Ohhh," she moaned, a deep protest echoing from her throat as she slowly extended her right arm forward; she cried out in pain as tiny pinpricks broke out on her arms, tiny needles pricking her blood veins- the painful consequence of sleeping on her arm. She shook her hand vigorously, yelping as the tiny "needles" pricked her, as she tried to force the blood to flow back normally to her entire arm. Her head throbbed with pain, and Paige gingerly massaged it with her left hand. Turning her head, she glanced at her heart-shaped clock. 6:12.
Her eyelids drooped wearily and she groaned. She had gotten barely 3 hours of sleep and her entire body felt like lead. Paige had not been able to rest peacefully; shadows played around her the entire night, and dreams of cloaked demons wielding sharp athames permeated her sleep every time she closed her eyes.
"Ahhhh," Forcing her body to sit up, Paige flung her hands upward and stretched lazily. "Got to get ready for the day," she whispered tiredly, the thought of having to face a class of noisy pre-adolescent tricksters weighing her down more. She yawned as she dragged her heavy body up and headed towards the small altar by her dresser.
Rubbing her eyes to clear the rest of her sleepiness away, Paige began to prepare for her daily morning Wiccan ritual. She arranged two pillar candles- one silver on the right, one gold on the left- in the center of the white altar cloth, and then proceeded to gather the rest of the materials for her ritual. From the drawer beneath the small, antique altar, Paige produced a soft, white feather, which she positioned meticulously on the eastern portion of the altar; a red votive candle, which she placed on the southern portion of the altar; a smooth auger shell which she situated at the western portion of the altar; and finally, a round polished stone with a painted pentagram in the center on the northern portion of the altar.
Yawning once more, Paige searched around for her lighter. She looked for her white lighter, her eyes darting all over the altar table. Finally, she found it hidden inside the small cauldron that Paige used to brew her Sleeping Potions in. "Ah, there you are," she said to herself, as she took the small lighter. Clearing the rest of her sleepiness away, Paige closed her eyes and inhaled deeply. She breathed in, her stomach gently inflating as the cool morning air entered her nose, and then deflating as she released her breath. Feeling more refreshed and more awake, Paige then proceeded to light the two candles- lighting the silver candle first, and then the gold. She lit the red votive candle as well. She tucked the small lighter back into the small cauldron and then sat, in lotus-position, in front of the altar. She began to chant in a sing-song voice as she swept her hands in a circular motion around her altar,
"Ancient Ones of the Earth so deep,
Mistress of Moon and Master of Sun,
I shield you in my Wiccan way,
In this circle round,
Asking you to guide my space,
And let your magic forces down."
Her voice rose and fell in a rhythmic hum as she continued to chant the magic incantation, feeling the Earth's golden energies flowing through her legs, then up to her arms, then finally to her head. Strength and a renewed sense of peace filled her body, and, as her voice rose to its pinnacle, she stopped chanting. Her eyes fluttered open as she felt her prayer take effect, a blanket of tranquility and power wrapping around her.
"Blessed Be," she finally whispered as she pushed herself up on her feet, "The spell has been cast." She looked at the two altar candles, and with a smile, pinched them to put the fire out. She pinched the small wick of the votive candle as well. She stretched once more, sensing the new strength inside her.
Thanking the Deities one last time, she then turned her back and glanced at her clock. 7:58. "Only an hour to get ready," she thought as she walked over to her closet and pulled a black robe from her cabinet. Whistling an old Gaelic song, she stepped inside the bathroom and took a warm shower, the worries of the previous day dissolving down the drain.
Paige walked to class, feeling refreshed and renewed. However, as she turned around a corner and strode into the Great Hall, something made her heart freeze. In the center of the Great Hall lay tiny broken shards of porcelain, remnants of an ancient Egyptian urn.
"It couldn't be," Paige muttered, the images from her nightmare coming back to her. She vaguely recalled hearing something break from behind her in her dream. Paige was not certain if it were a vase, but she had a sinking feeling that the vase that lay shattered in front of her was the one that she heard shattering from her dream. "Could it?" An icy cold fear gripped her heart.
Suddenly, Paige turned in surprise as a slouching old man that she assumed to be a janitor, came from the custodial room, brandishing a broomstick in his left hand, cussing beneath his breath. "Reckless young'uns, running around, breaking priceless antiques," he grumbled audibly. "Oh, good morning, miss," he smiled, revealing teeth severely yellowed with age, as he turned his head and looked at Paige. He curtly nodded and proceeded on to sweep the shards of porcelain.
Paige sighed in relief. "Get a hold of yourself, Paige," she scolded herself as she grinned at the old custodian and walked on to her class. However, as Paige strode to her designated classroom, she could not shake the feeling that she was being watched; the fine tiny hairs on the back of her neck stood up on end, and she felt eyes boring at the back of her head. Refusing to give in to her rising fears, Paige determinedly looked back. A chill suddenly ran down her spine; as soon as she turned her head, her eyes fell on the old custodian, and realized that he was smiling eerily at her, staring at her with a mouthful of decaying teeth. His heavy-browed eyes followed her every move unwaveringly, his eyes penetrating hers. Shivering, Paige spun her head back and hurriedly turned into another corner, avoiding the creepy old man's strange smile, and finally ducked into her classroom.
Paige sighed, as she finally pressed the door shut behind her.
All chatter and noise soon stopped as she entered the room. A handful of students hurriedly grabbed their books and feigned reading. A few rushed to their seats. And as usual, Clyde was back on his seat, mending another damaged book, clearly a victim of one of his classmates' childish pranks.
She walked to her desk and haphazardly threw her folder on top. Catching her breath, she clutched her chest with one hand, and pulled her chair backwards with the other. She sank to her chair as her breathing slowed, and looked at her class crossly, stress and weariness making her more short-tempered than usual. "What's happening here?" She paused and looked at the sobbing student, "Clyde?"
Out of the corner of her eye, Paige saw a female student, Ashley fidget slightly and sink lower in her seat.
Without answering, Clyde slowly raised his book, which had a scorch mark in the center. He sniffed, and lowered the book down.
Recognizing immediately where the scorch mark came from, Paige quickly turned to the female student who was twitching irregularly on the edge of her seat. "Ashley!"
The student named Ashley turned pale and sank deeper into her seat. She began to sweat and hand turned clammy. She began to stammer in protest, but before any words could escape her, her body turned into blue and white orbs, as Paige sent her to detention with her orbing powers.
She then turned to the rest of the class, all the students shooting her scared looks, and shouted, "Everyone, send in your reports. NOW!"
The sound of shuffling papers filled the room as students hurriedly scrambled to get their reports ready. Lack of sleep and stress taking their toll on her system, Paige dropped to her chair, and massaged her throbbing temples. Feeling too drained to teach, Paige instructed the class to answer their Spell-casting manuals.
"Clyde?" She weakly called out, "Can you please collect the reports and bring them here please?"
Clyde silently wiped his nose and the sleeve of his robe and nodded. He slowly stood up from his desk and began collecting his classmates' reports. He was faced with angry stares and scorn for indirectly ratting Ashley out. He meekly lowered his head to avoid the eyes of his classmates. After gathering the reports, he marched directly to Paige's desk. He gently placed the stack of reports at the center beside her folders, and smiled shyly.
"Thank you, Clyde," Paige smiled back.
Nodding his head silently, Clyde waved his hand over Paige's desk. An apple magically appeared once more, and he flashed a quick smile at Paige, his blue eyes twinkling brightly. He turned around, and walked quietly back to his desk.
Paige smiled, fragments of her stress melting away as she bit into the juicy red apple. All the stress, fear, and apprehensions from her nightmare and her brief encounter with the disturbing custodian slipped away into oblivion. Her mood gradually lightened as the sweet taste of the apple tickled her taste buds, filling her with a heavy feeling of drowsy tranquility, as if she were floating in space.
For a brief moment, Paige closed her eyes peacefully.
Soon, Paige's eyelids fluttered heavily as a sharp ringing echoed and cut through the calm silence that filled her mind. She opened her eyes and looked at her watch. 3:00. She woke with a start, her head jerking awake, realizing that the sharp ringing was coming from the class bell and that she was still inside the classroom. Before she could say or do anything, the rushed sound of scuffling feet filled the class, competing with the sound of the end-of-the-class bell.
"Class dismissed," she murmured drowsily, her voice drowned by the incessant ringing of the hallway bell and the cheerful cries of her students.
She gingerly rubbed her sleepy eyes and tried to remember what had happened. Everything from the past few minutes went by in a blur. "What happened?" she thought. Closing her eyes, Paige recalled instructing the class to submit their reports, and asking Clyde to bring them to her. She also recalled the sweet, red apple that Clyde gave her. Yet, everything after that had become hazy, jagged memories that made her head ache as she tried to remember them.
Straining to jog her memory, Paige was finally able to retrieve some of her memories through the haze in her mind.
Squinting, Paige remembered that she checked her watch fifteen minutes before the lunch bell. Her eyelids then felt heavy, and it became difficult for her to keep them open. She recalled a heavy feeling was weighing her down, and Paige tried to fight it. Yet, it finally conquered her, and she finally gave in. Her eyelids dropped and Paige drifted off to sleep.
She tried to recall more when a little voice called out to her.
"Miss Halliwell?" a tiny voice squeaked, causing Paige to return to reality. "Miss Halliwell?"
"Hm?" Paige's eyes slowly opened and she waited for them to focus. She soon found herself staring into the deep blue eyes of her favorite student. "Clyde?" Paige noticed that every student had already left the class, and only the two of them remained inside. She looked back at her student and was drawn by his blue eyes.
Paige saw a worried look cross the student's face. He asked in a timid voice, "You...you look pale and tired, and I was wondering- are...are you okay? Do you feel sick?"
Paige smiled at her student, despite of her fatigue. With a shaky voice, she replied, "It's sweet of you to ask. But, I'm fine, Clyde, thanks." However, as she pushed her chair back and tried to stand, Paige felt her knees turn into rubber, buckling under weight; she sank back into her chair, a wave of nausea hitting her. "Or not," she gasped under her breath as she slumped weakly into her chair.