Wicked Casters

Disclaimer: I do not own the Twilight Saga, AHS, or Beautiful Creatures

Chapter 8: The art of healing

Eleanor's POV

A nurse wheeled me out of the hospital with Zelena walking beside us. It was around noon when the doctors allowed me to be discharged. I was still tired from the morphine, but the doctors assured me it would wear off, and I took my medicine three times a day. I'm just relieved to be out of the hospital. Although my arm is still in a sling and my wrist in a cast. Doctors say it would take five weeks and some physical rehab to strengthen muscles.

Once out of the hospital and in Zelena's Toyota, I opened my cellphone to find I had several text messages. All were from Angela, Jessica, Mike, Eric, and other students asking me if I was okay. But most of the text messages were from Tyler Crowley. Oh, Hecate, it will take an entire day to read and respond to these messages. I sent a whole response text to all in my contact list, saying I'm still alive and will be back in school in a few days.

I sighed, leaning against the chair and staring out the window. Today it was foggy. The essence of after rain consumed the air. You can easily breathe in the water, tasting the evergreen on your tongue. Something about the Olympic Peninsula is soothing. Almost as if it has its own calling singing to my very soul.

When we arrived at the cabin, a familiar presence surrounded the atmosphere. I gasped, knowing whose aura that was, and looked at Zelena. She smiled widely, "She arrived this morning."

"Thank you," I said before getting out of the car and walking inside. My feet were in a hurry as I opened the door rapidly like a kid playing hide and seek.

Sitting in the living room reading a book was my mother, Constance. A woman with thick, brown hair fell to her shoulders, fair skin, and hazel almond-shaped eyes. She didn't wear the usual Caster Attire or business wear. Instead, she wore a pair of dark jeans, a printed blouse, and boots. You will be surprised that my mother is in her sixties when she looks in her thirties.

"Hello, my shining light," Constance praised happily.

"Mom," I nearly cried as I walked over and embraced her.

She hugged me closely though gently to be careful of my wounded arm. I could smell Dior J'Adore Perfume. Classic and stylish; that is how my mother is. She pulled back to look at me, tracing her hand over the stitches on my forehead and the bandages on my cheek.

"It seems I got a lot of work." She murmured.

"I guess so," I chuckled nervously.

"There are healing herbs in the kitchen," Zelena informed. "Shall we get started?"

Constance nodded as she led me into the kitchen. Ginger sat on the counter, munching on a slice of pizza. She smiled when seeing me as she jumped off the counter and walked over, giving me a quick hug. I groaned, feeling pain consume me, as I wasn't entirely healed yet.

"Oops, sorry," Ginger apologized. "Glad to have you back."

"I've only been gone for barely a day," I said.

"Yeah, but it gets so boring." She said. "Zelena can't cook."

"You had pizza," Zelena grumbled.

Constance chuckled, "All right, ladies, let's heal Eleanor so she doesn't have to suffer from a cast for the next five weeks.

Everyone nodded as my mother and Zelena gathered the material needed and headed to my room. I took off the hospital's sling and changed into a black slip. Ginger stood by the door, watching the process. I lay on the bed straight and narrow, closing my eyes.

Hands traced over my body, pressing on vital pressure points. Going deep along the shoulders and wrist. For a moment, my mother stopped, examining the bruise on my left shoulder. I opened my eyes to stare at her as she glared at the nasty bruise on my left shoulder. Constance glanced at Zelena mouthing a word which Zelena nodded in agreement to the silent question. Constance sighed as she smiled at me, telling me to close my eyes. I sighed, closing my eyes, feeling her touch.

And then it happened. Her grip tightens around my shoulders, surging her magical ability. It was like a current being shot through my body. I yelped, clenching the sheets as the muscles regenerated in searing pain while my bones mended like a smack of an elastic band. My body arched in the minor agony of being healed. Internal damage is terrible compared to external injury. A superficial laceration or cut can be sealed with regenerating skin. What lies on the inside is another story. All the muscles, blood, bones, etc.

The process went for ten minutes until Constance removed her hands. My body went limbed as I panted on the damp sweat-covered mattress. I look up, staring at my mom with a weak smile. She smiled down at me and traced her hand over my left shoulder. The shoulder no longer hurts, just a bit sore, including my wrist.

"Better?" she asked.

"Better," I answered, sitting up.

"I thought healing is supposed to be painless?" Ginger asked, walking in and taking a seat on the bed.

"External healing, yes," Constance said. "But internal is another thing, my dear."

"Which is why we're going to teach you healing spells while Constance is here?" Zelena announced.

"At least the basic spells," Constance reminded.

"But you didn't cast a spell?" Ginger noted.

"One of my primary abilities is Thaumaturge," Constance answered.

"What else can you do?" Ginger asked.

"I can also do spells and potions," Constance listed. "Followed by jinxes and hexes and water manipulations. Eleanor can do some water manipulation, but only in the rain."

"Really?" Ginger gasped, surprised. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"Because I struggle with it. It's not my strongest ability, unlike pyrokinesis." I explained.

"We all have elemental power," Zelena added. "Fire is the most common, as well as connecting to the earth. Air and water are complex since their molecules are not structured to grasp."

"Anyway, we will be focusing on healing," Constance said, getting us back on track.

"You girls are excused from school until Wednesday," Zelena informed.

Ginger and I nodded. For four days, we were going to learn the basics of healing magic. As we will skip school for two days. Zelena gave the school a notice so we could "recover" from the car accident. Zelena let me rest as my mother kept me company while Ginger and she left the room. Mom placed her carry-on on the bed and pulled out some items. I lay on the bed watching her, seeing some clothes and relics. Along with trinkets, as she set them around the room.

"I left the stitching and minor bruises for the public to see. Remember to wear the cast, including the sling now and then for the next month." Constance instructed as she explored my room.

"Alright," I said. "How is everyone back home?"

"They are doing well," she said as she came over and sat on the bed. "You should have seen the revenge Winifred did on Philip."

"What did she do?" I asked.

"She made a potion that turned Philip yellow." Mom answered as she pulled out her new cellphone showing the picture.

On the small screen is a twelve-year-old boy who was the complete opposite of what I remember of him. Philip had fair skin, messy black hair, and dark brown eyes. However, that was not the case, as he had a horrible case of jaundice, as his skin was literally yellow, as were the whites of his eyes. His once dark hair was blonde as well. The happy, easy-going boy looked furious with his arms crossed, glaring at the camera, while my little sister, who looked almost like Philip, laughed in the background.

I am laughing at this. Poor kid. That type of potion will probably last for an entire week. I handed the phone back to my mom, who was chuckling. "She's grounded from doing potions."

"Better enchant the cabinets," I murmured.

"Your father already has," she assured, then lay down with me. "So many cute boys?"

"Mom," I whined.

"What?" she teased. "I'm curious about how my adolescent daughter is doing in the normal world."

True. Does a relationship form quickly from simple friendships or dating in the ordinary world? Probably. In the caster society, we don't date. We do courting. Because we age slowly, courtship seemed the right thing to do, as the couple's court for some years, then date, before engagement and marriage. Mainly, the mentor or parents of the witch observe the meetings between the two casters. Ensuring there is compatibility in their magic. Back in the day, Warlocks were stealing witches to create strong offspring. Modern casters don't follow tradition and wonder about having intimacy with whomever. But the majority follow the traditions of our ancestors. The spiritual connection between two lovers is far more important than intimacy alone.

However, my generation is starting to drift away from tradition. Skipping the courting for onward dating. Many even avoid relationships in general. I don't know what I'm planning for my future. Let alone have a normal human yanked into this world. We have to be careful when bringing an average person into this world. You never know if they might be a witch hunter.

A Caster's weakness is not another Caster but our emotions. If somebody captivated a Caster's heart, then that individual shall be vulnerable. Our magic derives from our emotions. If one's emotions fall into depression, it can kill them. Over the centuries, witch hunters have taken advantage of that.

"There's no one," I told Constance.

"You're young," she sighed, tucking a strand of hair off my face.

I rolled my eyes.

I hope to find love and a partner I see as my equal one day. But as my mother says, I am young, and I roughly have 283 years left to live. Let my first thirty years be about discovering and controlling my abilities.

.o0o.

Ginger's POV

Constance stayed to teach us spells for healing for the next several days. It was a surprise how healing could be so easy compared to the other spells Zelena taught us. However, we were warned that using too much energy could leave you vulnerable until you regain your strength.

In the beginning, we practiced on the doves. Feeding them seeds coated in a potion so they wouldn't feel any pain as we cut and break their wings to heal. I practiced really hard, putting much effort into mending the bones, which healed. Eleanor had trouble due to a lack of strength but completed the beginner spells. Constance was right; healing magic was definitely draining if you are not a Thaumaturge. I think I went to bed early for the first time.

When it was time to deal with human flesh, I looked at everyone, confused. Constance took out a dagger cutting my arm. I yelped from the sudden pain.

"Hey," I protested.

"Practice healing yourself," Constance instructed.

I sighed as I thought of one of the spells to heal myself. It took a few attempts, yet I managed to conquer the spell to heal myself. I couldn't help but smile in triumph. Learning spells were far more manageable than controlling our abilities.

Also, it was nice seeing Eleanor no longer uptight. Her relationship with her mom is far stronger than my own. Then again, the Rivers grew up knowing they were Casters. Constance was not hiding her daughter's secret. She was embracing it and guiding her when she could. If not having the support from her dad. I kind of felt jealous, wondering if my biological father had stayed…would my life be like theirs. Embracing the magic and not being afraid of it.

And that is how it went for the next four days until Mrs. Rivers had to return home.

Eleanor and I waited outside as Zelena helped Constance carry her suitcase. She smiled at us, kissed her daughter on the cheek, and then faced me.

"It's an honor to meet you, Ginger," Constance said. "This summer, you must accompany Eleanor and join us on vacation."

"Oh, really?" I asked, surprised.

"Yes, you should see our world of Salem Casters." She insisted.

"Thanks, I might consider it," I said.

Constance nodded as she pecked my cheek and then wished us goodbye before getting in the Toyota. We girls stood there watching the vehicle leave. I got to say I like Constance. She is knowledgeable and kind-hearted. Nothing like the other witches I met in New Orleans. The witches there are too formal and stuck up. Well, at least the coven is not affiliated with Miss Robichaux's Academy for Exceptional Young Ladies or the Council.

Especially that specific coven having a dispute with some guy named Marcel. Cordelia warned me to never go to the French Quarters at night without another witch or warlock of my ethic. Mainly locations like Rousseau's, Jardin Gris, and West End.

Surprisingly, there are so many types of Casters and segregation in the south. But meeting Constance, I realized the northern witches of Salem are moderate. They do hold formality and customs, but their family is connected to them once a person joins a coven. As if I am now a daughter/sister to them.

I know it's short and not the best chapter, but I thought there should be something original in the story.

Thanks for reading, and please leave a review.

Updated