Wicked Casters
Disclaimer: I do not own the Twilight Saga.
Chapter 2: The Coven
Eleanor's POV
I finished unpacking in my room, feeling jet lag taking effect though I knew it was not time to rest. When the last article of clothing was put away, I got a better look of my room. My room was on the west end, facing the forest. The walls were painted glaucous blue as Victorian vector print cascaded the edges of the wall creating a picture frame as a dresser stood center with a large antique mirror. Curiously I place my family photos and jewelry there.
Such age and history this room held consuming a century of Wiccan history.
I sighed as I put the suitcase under the metal frame bed. The purple comforter covered the luggage. Four more years of training, and I shall be considered an independent. In the Caster world, twenty-one is the legal age to decide one's future. However, we do oblige voting and other eighteen-year-old rights.
Once undone packing, I headed downstairs, where Madame Zelena waited with a tea tray. She appeared young for her age, supposedly fifty, but appears in her thirties. Probably it's because we Casters age slower, having twice the life span than an average human. My grandfather was 218 years old before his passing.
"Have a seat, Eleanor," Zelena said. "Georgia will be down in a moment."
Georgia must be Ginger's birth name. Then again, I can see why she wanted to be called Ginger instead of Georgia, especially in a modern society filled with shorter or simple names. For example, if I go to school, I prefer my classmates to call me Ella instead of Eleanor.
So doing so, I sat down on the couch and poured myself a glass of tea. It wasn't long before Ginger came down sitting next to me.
"So, what's the plan?" Ginger asked.
"The plan is simple," Zelena answered, taking a sip of her tea. "As long as you both stay here, you are safe and protected. My name is Zelena Alexandria Bishop, Madame Zelena by the Council, but I prefer Zelena. For the next four years, I'll be your mentor in teaching you how to control your magic, if not use it properly. We must take our training seriously due to the dwindling numbers of our kind."
"Why?" Ginger asked.
"We're a dying breed, Georgia," Zelena answered. "Many of the families who knew they carried the bloodline made a choice not to reproduce or marry an outsider that makes the gene recessive. My duty is to see if you hold potential."
"You mean who is a Supreme?" I spoke.
"Supreme?" Ginger asked. "Ms. Cordelia mentions a Supreme. She's the high witch?"
"Correct," Zelena said. "An average witch is born with a few natural gifts. But in each generation, there are five Casters who embody countless gifts. Some say all of them. They are the Supreme, and they form the Order."
"I heard you were considering a Supreme," I said.
"I was, but I lack a few gifts to be entitled to such a class. I'm just like you, just a caster. And a teacher. I'm here to help you identify your gifts and teach you how to control them. Horatio and Cordelia have taught you the basics and suppression when in public. It's my duty to make sure you have control and blossom. Our ancestors understood the dangers. Today, so many families know nothing of their ancestry. Too many adolescents aren't lucky enough to have found us or weren't identified in time for us to have found them."
"What would happen to them?" Ginger asked.
"The same witch hunt that's been going on through centuries," Zelena answered. "In religious areas, many were murdered in brutal ways. While others commission into prisons unexplainable actions. But the worst is the wild magic that consumes the Caster."
"Backfire suicide," I whispered.
"Especially if one possesses pyrokinesis." Zelena agreed as she leaned forward to a candle on the coffee table and blew on the wick. Instantly the wick caught fire and then slowly reduced to a normal flame. "We are under siege, ladies. Our lives, our very existence, are in a balance. Know this or face extinction."
Ginger nodded, understanding that these gifts should not be taken lightly. This is something we can't simply share on YouTube or broadcast to the entire world. Let alone our enemies. To a Caster, there are three enemies: a vampire, a hunter, and ourselves.
After the slight warning, we started by introducing ourselves and our abilities, I went first, "My powers are pyrokinesis, telekinesis, and divination."
"Psychic or extrasensory awareness?" Zelena asked.
"Extra-sensory awareness," I answered.
Zelena nodded and looked at Ginger, "And Georg-"
"Ginger, I prefer to be called Ginger," The girl interrupted. Zelena nodded, asking for her known abilities. "Um, so far . . . pyrokinesis and something called a Sybil, Cordelia is not sure, but I can tell if someone is lying?"
Sybil is an ability that can detect if a person is lying, let alone reveal the hidden truth or secret intention inside a person by looking at them. That type of gift is something one should take for granted. However, the worst magical ability is Sight, Elemental, and Black Widow. I feel sorry for those with the Black Widow. That specific gift is practically a curse. A curse to never be able to fall in love without putting the opposite sex's life in danger. In fact, a Black Widow either goes celibate or chooses homosexuality. This curse practically tortures women, though some turn their gift into an injustice task. There are media reports of a rapist or some abusive man having a bloody brain aneurysm . . . immediately, you know it was a Black Widow.
"We will see as time goes by," Zelena said. "Now, you two shall be attending school on Monday. Tomorrow we will go to La Push."
"La Push?" Ginger chuckled at the name.
"Yes, La Push, there is an Indian Reservation, and I have a friend there who is fixing a car I bought for you. It's seven miles from here to the school, so I suggest we get the car. Then we will get school supplies. I'm serious about education here, and I want to see good grades and no calls from the school. As of now, I am your cousin Eleanor and your foster mother Ginger. Let's keep to the plot and have no trouble."
"School?" Ginger groaned.
"Yes," Zelena confirmed. "You are no longer at Miss Robichaux's Academy."
"It can't be that bad," I said.
"Says you," Ginger muttered. "I can't deal with the whole, 'you're a foster kid.'"
I sighed, debating if Ginger's past would conflict with her magic.
.o0o.
Ginger's POV
The following day, I huffed, arms crossed in the back seat of the Toyota as Zelena and Eleanor sat in the front. They were talking nonsense about herbs and potions. So is this my life, going to school then coming back to the cabin for more witch training. Or how these girls prefer the term Casters. Way to throw your heritage away.
"So, what type of car did you get?" I asked.
"It's a jeep," Zelena said.
"How new?" I asked.
"New enough to be yours," Zelena said. "If you keep it up, I'll have you cleaning the caldrons."
"What year?" Eleanor asked.
"About the 1990s," she answered.
"So the engine should be fine," Eleanor said.
Wow, ain't she a glass is half full. I thought before fiddling with my cellphone
The car pulled up to a house at the end of the road. The building appeared to be a one-story house painted red. However, the exterior colors slowly faded away thanks to the rain. Next to the building was an oversized garage as two vehicles waited outside. Zelena pulled into the driveway and got out of the car. Eleanor and I look across to see the beach on one side of the house and the forest on the other side.
On the porch, a man sat in a wheelchair smoking a pipe. He appeared to be in his late forties, with copper skin and long black hair while wearing a cowboy hat—native American no doubt by his physical trait.
"Billy, how are you?" Zelena said, walking over to him and then hugging him.
"Well, I'm still dancing," he answered.
"And catching fish, I see," she added, gesturing to a cooler cover in mud, followed by an awful smell of fish.
"Can't stop me no matter what," He said, patting his wheelchair.
Zelena chuckled as she turned to face us. "Girls, I'd like you to meet Billy Black. He's been a good friend of mine since moving here. Billy, I would like you to meet my girls, Eleanor who is my cousin, and Ginger, my foster child."
"It's nice you're finally here, girls," Billy said. "Zelena here hasn't shut up about it since she got the word you two were coming."
"Yeah, Zelena has a big heart," Eleanor said.
"Alright, keep being flirtatious," Zelena grumbled. "Or I'll stop delivering my famous meals."
"Don't worry, I got Harry's Clearwater's fish fries."
"Not with your diabetes." She scolded.
I wonder how close she and Billy are. They have acted like good school friends for decades. Then I wonder if he knows her secrets of being a witch. I sense wisdom and the unknown, but not the secrets of our kind. So maybe he is in the dark. The two continued to bicker while we girls watched, amused.
A boy comes out of the house, putting on his raincoat. He looked about sixteen and had long black hair. His skin is russet-colored. His eyes were dark brown, almost black, and he had high cheekbones. So still a teenager and, might I add, very handsome.
"Oh hey," he said. "I'm Jacob."
"Ginger," I answered.
"Eleanor." My new coven sister added
"Eleanor sounds a bit old school," Jacob noted.
"And isn't Jacob a bit old school?" Eleanor challenged.
"Touché," he replied with a chuckle.
"I'll roll you into the mud," Zelena threatened from something Billy said
"After I smack your ankles," Billy countered, progressing at her ankles.
"Are they always like this?" I asked.
"It's getting worse with old age," Jacob answered with a chuckle. "You should see them with Chief Swan."
"Jake, why don't you show the girls their car," Billy said.
Jacob nodded as he led us to the garage where the supposed new car was. Inside were two vehicles, one being a Volkswagen while the other a Jeep Wagoneer. By the model, I can estimate it was manufactured in the early 1990s. The paint job is black with gray wood paneling, with some minor dents and rust on the bumpers.
"The rabbit or Wagoneer?" Eleanor asked.
"You know cars?" Jacob asked, very impressed.
"Somewhat, my grandfather had a thing for vintage and muscles. Also, my dad had this brand." She answered, walking over to the Rabbit. "Until he totaled it."
"The Wagoneer is yours," Jacob answered with a smile. "I totally rebuilt the engine for you guys and upgraded the stereo."
"Really," I praised, looking inside to find the interior in fair condition while center on the console is a modernized radio system. Yes, no cassette tapes! I would practically go insane without some tunes.
Jacob chuckled at our reaction as we took a peek in the car. "So, who's driving?"
". . . I'm still on a permit." I sighed.
"I have my license," Eleanor said.
"Shotgun it is then." I joked.
We got in the car to get a better feel inside. Eleanor was on the driver's seat while I was in the passenger. Jacob stood outside and leaned through the driver's side door gesturing to certain parts. "Listen, you have to push hard on the brakes for it to stop, but besides that, you should be good. Just make sure you check the engine's lube once a week and refill it."
"And I pull this lever to lift the hood?" Eleanor gestured underneath the wheel.
"Yeah," he confirmed. "Yeah, right there."
"All right," she murmured, pulling the lever, then got out.
I watched this transpire as Jacob talked about cars to her in the car. He seemed very sweet and funny as he went over parts. Sometimes making us laugh or stutter a bit. As if he hasn't been around girls before. Although, he seemed more focused on Eleanor than me.
"So, do you need a ride to school?" I asked.
"Oh, um, I go to school on the reservation," Jacob answered.
"Oh, right," I said, feeling utterly stupid.
"Yeah," he sighed, rubbing his neck.
"So, where are you two from?" he then asked.
"Before here, I stayed in New Orleans," I answered.
"Really? Is it all that jazz down there?" he asked.
"Yep, and lots of fun, although still recovering after Katrina," I answered.
Jacob nodded, then looked at Eleanor. She seemed a bit hesitant before answering, "Salem, Massachusetts."
"Really?" he asked, impressed.
"Really," She replied.
"So, are there any witches there?"
"Oh yes, and black cats, and plenty of reenactments of the trials." She sarcastically said. "Double, double, toil and trouble."
He chuckled, shaking his head. I chuckled as well, seeing she wasn't being serious about the fact that she's a witch. Also, putting the whole, 'I know, so what' behavior. We hung out for a while at the Black residents before Zelena declared it was time to return home. Eleanor drove wearing glasses. I sat in the passenger seat while we followed Zelena's Toyota. The atmosphere was silent as we drove in the rain.
Now I think about it . . . I should start to get to know her better. I mean, we are sisters in coven terms. Then again, Zelena warned that Eleanor would be a bit down since her grandfather had passed away recently. Still, she is practically the pure witch between us.
"So . . . um . . . can you tell me what the witch society is like?" I asked hesitantly.
Eleanor paused, then chuckled, "First off, we prefer the term Caster(s) as a plural or singular. Witch and Warlock signify the gender of the Caster. However, different types of casters are a good thing for our race."
"How so?" I asked.
"Well, you and I are normal witches; we are called Traditional. We rely on our unique abilities and spell. Then there are white casters and dark casters; those two have conflicts that lead to family troubles. Next, there are Voodoo priests and priestesses. Followed by the lower cast, when the genes do not reside by giving the individual sense of magic, they are called Wiccans. The list goes on depending on one's culture."
"So no wands, brooms, or familiars that can talk?"
She chuckled again, "No wands, but there are charms we use to help conduct our abilities." She waved her left-right hand to show a silver bracelet with an amethyst in the middle. "Flying on brooms is just a distraction, but during Salem times, the broom was used in spells to sweep the negative energy from the east and into the west. And as for familiars, no, animals can't freely talk."
"Damn, I really want my own black cat named Salem." I joked.
We laughed at this and Eleanor added, "You grew up on Charmed and Sabrina the Teenage Witch."
"Yep, and what about you? Did you live a normal human life or some fancy world?"
"A bit of both," she answered. "I was raised as an aristocrat yet lived in a normal world. I went to public schools, joined clubs and sports, and read and watched young adult media. So, I know The Hunger Games, Harry Potter, and others."
"Seriously?"
"Seriously," she confirmed. "Although there were some other things, I've done that normal people would consider satanic."
"What, sacrificing children?" I asked.
"No, stripping naked and dancing on the full moon solstice." She answered casually. "Sometimes killing a bird on certain spells, and such."
My mouth literally dropped upon hearing this. Is this going to be my life: nudist, killing animals, and all that witchcraft?
"Clothing is optional."
So, what do you all think?
I want to thank you, MME.95, for the review. It's nice to have a review, for I thought I was taking a hit or miss risk on this story. Guys, don't be afraid to review. I swear I won't put a hex on you.
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