Author's Note: Wow, this is a looooong update. I wrote it in between alternating episodes of Buffy and Roswell, and just being a weirdo. I succeed very well in that career field.
Fear will hold you back if you believe in that. - The Hush Sound
Chapter Three: Practical Powers
Story dressed in a white corduroy jumper with green floral shirt under it. She added her favorite white high tops, then spun around. There was only one more thing to worry about, and that was simple.
She stood in front of the mirror. "Mirror mirror, small and spry. My appearance to change, my appearance to scry. Shake the shadows from my eyes!" she recited. And as she spoke, the darkness disappeared, leaving her looking younger and not half as tired as she actually was.
Morgan glanced over her shoulder. "Nice. A glamour spell."
She was decked out in a pair of tight jeans and a shirt that looked like it had been handed down through a couple people already, but in a cool way. A green shirt and fringed cowgirl vest. She tugged on it. "Think this is a good look for the first day of college?"
"Yes. You look great." Morgan's curls and freckles made a cuteness that balanced the edgy outfit to a tee.
Story and Morgan walked into the apartment, where Anya and Dafne were splitting an onion bagel. They didn't pay any attention to the others, and Story was grateful. But someone was looking at them- a girl with a red-purple braid and a yellow sundress.
She stood quietly, and smiled at the two. "Hi Morgan. Did you sleep well?" she asked.
Morgan grinned. "Yeah. You?"
She nodded. "Who's your friend?"
"This is Story of Romula, my roomie. Story, this is Grace of Zenith. She and I have been friends forever."
"We all have," Dafne said without looking up. "Everyone except for you, Story. Dragon, it must suck being the outcast."
Anya laughed. "Oh, you can't blame her for not being anybody. She's just got weak little powers!"
Grace looked shocked, as if she couldn't comprehend her friends' cruelty. Morgan looked uncomfortable. And Story…
Story looked justifiably ticked. She was. She was very, very ticked. "My powers aren't weak!" she shouted, as she jumped into the air and started to shift into her magical form.
Her clothes melted away, being quickly and gracefully replaced with a frilly Edwardian tutu skirt the creamy color of new parchment. A tank top in a soft red appeared, overlapped by another cream colored garment, a long sleeved cardigan. Story laughed at the beautiful feeling of changing into who she was meant to be as creamy heels manifested on her feet. As they touched ground again, lacy red wings appeared, looking like they could fall apart at the slightest touch. But Story knew they were much, much stronger than that.
She flipped her blonde hair a little, spun around, and posed with her arms out, ready to shoot a spell at Anya. "My powers are not weak," she said again.
Anya's eyes flared for only a minute before she, too rose. It took her less time to transform- did that mean she was more or less powerful than Story? Did it have any effect at all?
Story pondered this as she watched the bouncy brunette bitch cross her arms. A bunch of planets in miniature swirled brutally around her, transforming her designer street clothes into an orange leotard, a flimsy scarf, and matching leg warmers. Ballet shoes the color of the rest of the ensemble were shown off for a split second; then translucent blue heart-shaped wings fluttered on her back. Her dark hair was tied in a large orange hair bow, a high pony that made her look like a high school cheerleader who got lost at a ballet recital after meeting a Fashion Disaster Monster. Or at least, that was Story's opinion.
Anya wasted no time for introductions or threats. She hurled up her hands. "Lunar tick!" she cried as she thrust a small silver glow at Story, who instinctively dodged the attack.
Naturally, as a result, it hit Morgan. "Wo!" she said.
Then she looked confused. "Yhw ma I gnikaeps sdrawkcab?"
Grace set a gentle hand on Morgan's cheek and said a few words that Story didn't catch. It was an odd exchange, she thought, even if it was just spell reversal.
Morgan, having recovered normal speech, raised her hands up. "Guys, stop! We have class in half an hour. If you have to fight, do it after last period and don't do it around me or Grace, please!"
Anya glared, then waved a hand and let her civilian appearance reappear. Story waited a second before she did the same.
"Good," Morgan said. "Now, let's head to class before we're late on our first day. Griselda can be a bitch, so my mom says."
Dafne and Anya headed off in one direction, going down the back stairs that led to the another hallway of dorms. Grace, Morgan, and Story, however, went through to the main staircase. "What have you got first period?" Story asked the other two fairies.
"Metamorphasymbiosis with Wizgiz," Morgan replied dryly. "I hate that subject. I was in Pre-Transfig in high school, and I swear it killed off a little part of my soul."
Grace laid her head on Morgan's shoulder sympathetically. "Luck luck. I've got Etiquette."
Morgan's face crumpled, confused. "Okay, if there is a person in this school who doesn't need that class, it's you Gracie. Dragon, talk about an easy A. What about you, Story?"
"Magiphilosophy," Story sighed. "Crap. I was hoping I had classes with one of you at least."
Morgan smiled at Story, her mouth a little lopsided. "Hey, there are four more periods in the day after this. Maybe we'll see each other then."
"So true." Story looked at her schedule, then to the corridor of doors. Her eyes finally found the Magiphilosophy room, and she sighed. "Well. I'll see you in some class or another, and if not, back in the dorm later."
"Bye," Grace and Morgan said in unison.
The fairy of words walked into her first class, and sat down at a desk in the back row. She reached into the pocket of her jumper, then, and pulled out a small gold locket. It wasn't something particularly special. Her grandmother had given it to her to help train the powers she had possessed since she was eleven. She set the necklace on the desk and said "Levitate."
The necklace started to float. Story smiled. It was a simple skill, but useful- her ability to do simple tasks with only a word, not even a spell.
It wasn't something that was easy control, though… it wasn't like she could say "stop," and the locket would drop. She could say "stop" and it would be impossible to move the necklace, or impossible to move anything except the necklace. It might turn it into a stop sign, or do a thousand different things that hadn't already happened to it. The locket had been through a lot of things, and it was almost a game. Accomplish the goal using only one word at a time.
The teacher, a handsome older man, walked in, and Story concentrated on the locket. "Fall," she commanded.
A breeze immediately kicked up around her desk, and small colored leaves fell from the locket. Story sighed, and quickly ran through her vocabulary, trying to find a word to revert what she did… hey, maybe that's it, she thought. "Revert," she said aloud.
The necklace fell from the air, and the small bubble of autumn weather subsided. "I need to remember that one," she muttered.
The professor glanced towards her and nodded as if he approved. Story blushed a little bit. She wasn't trying to show off, she had just been bored.
He sat down on the desk, very suave. "Welcome class. I am Professor Avalon, and if you aren't in first year Magiphilosophy, you're in the wrong place. Anyone?"
Nobody said a word, nobody got up and left. Avalon looked pleased. "Good," he said. "Now that we're sure we're all in the right place, we can get on with class. You'll find the syllabus on your desk." He waved a hand.
Story looked down. Sure enough, syllabus. Magic was so cool.
"Now on the first page, you'll find the four main units. We'll be covering one each term. First we'll be concentrating on the Law of Return, which you may know as the Threefold Rule, karma, or something of that effect. When we finish that section, we'll move on to personal empowerment, including self-fulfilling prophecies."
"That should cover our first semester. When you return from the Winter Break, we'll cover the morality of different spells, and then each of you will pick a subject of your own to research for your final paper. Clear?"
"Clear," came the halfhearted answer of twenty freshmen fairies.
But Story was pretty psyched. As a fairy of words, there was not much she liked more than learning. And since there was no actual power used in this class, there was no way it could get out of control.
Avalon jumped right in, passing out textbooks and having the students quietly reading the introduction. There were naturally a few grumbles, but Story was psyched. It seemed to be an interesting course, and for a second she wondered why nobody seemed to be enjoying it.
Then she had the realization. She was the smart girl, the princess of the written word, and if she wasn't she likely would not understand a letter of the preface. Hmm. Maybe she could make an extra couple of bucks tutoring the others.
The bell rang, and Story looked at her schedule. Advanced Placement Spell Books and Composition. No question about it, Grandma had a hand in her scheduling process. AP Spells and Comp was a junior class, mostly. She sighed, rolled her eyes, and looked back on her schedule for the room number.
"Ouch!" said a shrill voice.
Story heard the word before she felt the impact. When she looked up from her schedule, Dafne stood staring at her. "Freak," the Fira said. "Can't look up from your little words for a second to watch where you're going. Dragon, so your power is lame and it rules your life."
Story stared at Dafne, knowing she would pay for what she was about to do later. "Suspend," she said calmly as she tapped into her Winx. "Freeze" was the traditional word for what she wanted the mean girl to do- but last time she had tried to use that particular phrase, it had caused understandable storming. And as much as she already didn't like the princess of Eraklyon, she couldn't wish ice on a fairy of fire without feeling the worst sort of guilt.
Dafne moved forward, but she hadn't taken two steps before Griselda popped out from a corner. "Fira of Eraklyon!" she exclaimed. "Were you about to attack that girl?"
"No, professor, I swear, she spelled me…"
"She didn't say more than two words to you, how could she have spelled you? Silent magic is the work of seniors. Even an advanced freshman such as Story couldn't tap into the power she would need. I think a day's suspension from your powers would be in order! And I will delight in telling Queen Bloom about her daughter getting into mischief on the first day. What a sad fate for the daughter of a legacy." Despite her 'sadness,' Griselda looked very, very happy to have Dafne by the arm.
The fire princess looked back at Story, her blue eyes like evil sapphires. Story gulped. Yep, she'd been right. She was definitely paying for this later.