September 17th 2010
Taylor hebert knew her family liked telling stories from a young age. Her dad, too, liked to tell stories about the docks from his childhood, but it was her mother and her grandma who were the real storytellers.
They weren't normal stories either, not just little anecdotes from their childhood with a few embellishments, or retellings of popular stories to appeal to her mind as a child. No, they told fantastical stories of a ceaseless fight between Light and Dark, Witches and Sages and her Grandmother even included herself as a character in some of the stories, despite some of them reaching back hundreds of years.
Her grandmother had disappeared when she was six, but she remembers how beautiful she'd been, with her european accent, lithe body and luscious hair. The one trait Taylor thought was truly attractive about her, past down her mother's line to her, her one true connection even past her death.
Her mother had told her she was looking for answers to why her families long held powers had vanished not long after the appearance of Scion. Taylor had considered it to be a fanciful tale to draw her mind away from the fact that her Grandmother was likely dead. They did live in Brockton Bay after all.
There had been some truth to some of the stories, that she knew. How they were descended from a line of witches, who used their hair as vessels for powers of darkness and summoning of powerful demons. Well, not the powers and demons, but they had a very fancy and old looking book that listed their family line, minus actual dates and ages, of a coven called the "Umbra" witches. Also her hair had never needed cutting. Something she could admit to herself was strange, but certainly wasn't proof of powers or the like.
So yes, she knew her family on her mother's side enjoyed telling stories full of magic and fantasy, and she knew that that's all they were. So then, she wondered, who had left a book of umbral magic on her bedspread while she'd been downstairs having breakfast with her dad.
The book was large, intimidatingly so, and looked brand new, the cover a deep dark purple, with a symbol which she vaguely remembered from some fading memories of a tattoo her grandma had proudly shown off all those years ago . If she held it in her hands it would be easily as large as her torso, and much wider, and it looked thicker than any book she'd even seen, and her mother had been an English teacher so she'd seen some heavy books in her time.
All strange, yes, but not the strangest thing about it. She'd asked her dad where it had come from, and he'd pressed the back of his hand against her forehead and asked her how she was feeling.
He couldn't see the book, which made no sense considering just how damn big it was.
What was going on?
/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\
She'd been sat on the floor of her bedroom for some time now, flicking through the book, mind whirling in confusion.
The book was written in something she vaguely knew was called Enochian because her mother had mentioned it when talking about the heavenly language her family used to cast their 'magic'.
So how, when she'd never seen any examples of the written word, was she able to read the book so easily?
It had a fairly straight forward name, it was simply titled "Codex For The Next Generation of Umbra Witch". Worryingly it also, at multiple times in it's introductions of the books purpose of teaching a young witch on how to become a true and accomplished witch, addressed Taylor by name. Was this from her Grandma? Was she actually alive and following whatever leads her mother had mentioned all those years ago? But these were just stories!
Yet, she couldn't pull herself away. The book came with an exercise regime, instructions on appropriate foods (Which for some reason also included immense amounts of candy, magical and otherwise), and instructions on when to know one was ready to begin tapping into the darkness and demons.
Fascinating.
Taylors grades at school were abysmal, and it wasn't completely without merit. For the last year her ex-best friend and hanger ons had tormented and tortured her with no repercussions, and part of this harassment had been academic. Sabotaged projects and stolen homework. But despite her efforts it just simply wasn't possible to keep your grades up and learn at the intended level when she spent most of her time at school in a state of perpetual fear and depression.
Despite this, Taylor loved learning. More than that, she loved reading, and even though until this day she'd never thought of her families stories as anything but, they had still fascinated her with the idea of magic and the freedom it seemed to bring.
Taylor still didn't quite believe in the truths the book purported to tell, but she found herself absorbing the information like a sponge. She'd let herself go in her depression, and she had little to be proud of when she considered her lanky body, her protruding belly and wide mouth which she'd inherited from her mother and grandmother who'd made the look work, but on her made her look like a vaguely femenine and human shaped frog.
Still, despite the voice calling her crazy for putting any stock in these fairy tales, another louder part decided to latch onto any possible escape. Magic didn't exist, she knew that. But just because it didn't exist, didn't mean she couldn't believe right? She wanted to believe so badly, that if she followed the instructions in this book, she'd wake up one day, as beautiful as her grandmother, with the skills of the witches she'd told fantastic stories about.
Taylor got to work making a dream she didn't truly believe in, become reality.
/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\
Three months had passed since the invisible book had appeared on her bed, and there had been a few changes in her life. Firstly, for some reason, not long before the Endbringer Behemoths attack on Kolkata the trio, as she called her tormentors, had pulled back on their bullying on her.
She wasn't one to look gift horses in their mouths though, and she'd been slowly building up a stronger resistance against their torment as she leaned into the books training. Her stomach was mostly gone now. It wasn't toned like she was aiming for, but it was basically fat, and she had small muscles building in her arms and legs.
Her father, absent as he basically was at this point, had been more than happy to eat healthier after a little push, and it had even given them something to talk about as her improved health and diet rubbed off on him and his skin and demeanor both cleared up as they began to talk just that little bit more. They certainly weren't as close as they had been before her mother's death, but they actually sometimes spent the morning with each other when her dad didn't immediately have to go to work.
She'd even grown another two inches so now despite being smaller than a fair amount of the male seniors at school, she now towered over everyone in her own year. It had been yet another thing for the schools bullies, which for her was basically the whole school at this point, to latch onto but she powered through. The book mentioned in passing that almost all Umbra Witches were tall even sans 'battle outfit', and she was beginning to take more pride in herself as she spent more time on introspection to gain the focus needed for eventual summoning.
Not that she actually believed in the magic of course; invisible book or not, but the exercises physical and mental were really starting to see an improvement in her general life.
The biggest change though, and the one that made it the hardest to simply dismiss magic for what it was, was her hair. It was silkier and softer than ever, even as wavy as it was at this length, but that wasn't the strange thing. The book had told her that after her initial meditations and incantations, which she'd done despite feeling ridiculous, her hair would be as strong as to be near indestructible.
She didn't know whether she'd done it to prove the book right or wrong, but she'd taken a pair of scissors very carefully to the end her hair and come away panting slightly with a slightly bent pair of scissors and hair completely unruffled by the aggressive snipping.
At this point she was actually beginning to feel a little spooked by the book. She lived in a world of heroes and villains, with powers that she could very easily see making something as simple as a book be visible to only a select few. Still, who else but her family knew about Umbra witches as to write a book so elaborate? And moreso, why target her?
Knowing there would be few answers appearing from sitting around head in her hand as she stared at the book in question, she decided to simply move on. It was time to start practicing summon incantations and jumps to purgatorio.
Not that she believed in magic or anything.
/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\
January 3rd 2011
She'd known something was wrong as soon as she entered the school. Everyone was looking at her, and not just because her anxiety was whispering in her ear. She'd been slowly getting better about that, her dad had invited Kurt and Lacey for Christmas and New Years and she'd actually been able to start conversations with little worry. Her confidence had been increasing along with her general fitness and belief in her family's history.
So she could say, with confidence, that everyone actually was staring at her. The usual suspects were tittering to themselves as she passed, no doubt telling jokes at her expense, probably about how she was both a prostitute and also looked like a man in drag that no one would touch.
But so was everyone else, even those who generally ignored her existence, or were two years above her and therefore barely gave a care about the drama of Sophomores. They all looked apprehensive, some clearly with pity in their eyes, and others with some kind of excitement. There were even a few phones out, aiming at her on the sly.
As she got closer to her locker she knew why.
The fucking smell.
She didn't want to open her locker, even with only the grid on the front being the only air vent for what was inside, she found herself close to dry heaving at the smell. But there was a morbid fascination, similar to watching a car crash. She couldn't just walk away, she wanted to know what those bitches had done this time. She should have known better than to think they'd grown up and fucked off.
She turned away and took a deep breath before stepping forward and opening the door.
She immediately regretted that as the stench hit her in a wave, and despite it still being winter the stench was warm.
She bent over and threw up on the floor next to her locked, barely with enough mind to avoid her own shoes.
She went to force herself to stand up straight when a pair of hands grabbed her from the back and forced her forwards to her locker, only just managing to put her hand on the locked to the side to stop herself being pushed in face first.
"Don't worry Hebert we're just putting you with the trash where you belong. Now. Get. Fucking. In," the psychopath she knew as Sophia Hess hissed in her ear, her body stronger than hers despite her knew found athleticism, having been a track runner since the start of school. Still she wouldn't have been able to force her in if a viciously smiling redhead hadn't smacked a textbook onto the hand keeping her out.
Before she knew it the door was clanging behind her trapping her in her locker with rotten blood and female products, only the slightest sliver of light letting her see the bugs and waste her body was pressed and twisted against, the locker too small to move in any useful way, no leverage to kick her way out.
"Let me out!" she screamed, voice filled with rage and fear, the flys and maggots pressing against her hands and face, the taste of rotten blood on her lips. "Let me out!"
She could hear laughing, Sophia, Emma and Madison for definite. But she could hear more than that, there were so many of them, and none of them were doing anything!
She could feel her breath becoming shorter and shorter as she could feel a panic attack coming on. It wasn't supposed to be like this. She was working on herself, the trio had been backing off. She'd have kept her head down, worked hard on bringing her grades up and maybe dropped out for homeschooling if need be, or hopefully transfer to Arcadia. She'd talked about it just the day before with her dad.
"Aww is someone scared of a little bit of dark? I remember you used to always go crying to mummy when you were little but you're in highschool now Tay-Tay, can't be crying anymore," she heard her once best friend sneer as someone banged on the locked pushing against her back and forcing her face further against the blood at the back even as she tried to move futilely away.
Why wasn't anyone helping her? How long had she been in here? Seconds? Minutes? No one had gone to classes yet, she could hear them, so there had to be a teacher in the hall right? Why did it feel like she'd been in here for so long?
"I said let me out Emma! Please, this isn't funny! Let! Me! Out!" She was thrashing as much as the tight container would let her, she felt like she was going to pass out at any minute.
[DESTINATION]
In a fit of helplessness she fell back on her hours of practice from the winter break, with no belief it would work, but pushed by hysteria to try something, anything. "PDEE BARMA!"
[AGREEMENT]
"Is she having a psychotic break or something, what is she saying?" A cutesy little voice mocking her the same as always, she ignored it.
"PDEE BARMA!" She cried one more time, her voice growing more powerful, a timbre of power beginning to leak into it.
[TRAJECTORY]
"Sophia? Shit Sophia are you okay?" A groan from a voice she recognised but she was beyond focusing on anything other than that power she could feel flowing through her, her clothes she could feel tearing away from her body as something else replaced it, the filth sliding off her skin. She could feel it. Once more and she would break through.
"PDEE BARMA!" She roared.
[AGREEMENT]
Circles of power appeared in the air, Enochian letters danced around the edges with a faint purple glow as a dark portal s meter or so wide stuttered into existence, as arms made of flesh and crystal tore themselves through the lockers on either side of her before grabbing her own and tearing it to pieces, screams of terror from the student populous as most took to running away, only the hardiest of cape fanatics staying behind to record what they were seeing. The Trio cowered on the floor, or at least Madison and Emma did, Sophia seemed to be pushing herself up from the floor, eyes cloudy.
"You're going to regret that," Taylor promised them, seemingly calm despite the rage beneath the surface. Her heart was beating a mile a minute and her mind was spinning with what had just happened. She had just summoned a god damn demon.
She could still smell the horror of the locker, it clung to her even though the waste had not, and she pushed herself past the desire for brutal and bloody revenge.
"I'm going home. Touch me again and you'll pay," she promised them as she summoned another arm to tear the school doors off there hinges as she ran past into the street. Ultimately a pointless act of destruction but she was barely holding back her anger. She needed to get home to talk to her dad.
The stories were real. Magic was real.