AN/ This chapter is dedicated to silverbirch, for being my first reviewer on this story. Thankees! Enjoy!! :D
After breakfast, it was time to hand out the post. Tom and I never received anything; we didn't know anyone to get anything from. Which was why I almost fainted with shock when two packages were placed on our table.
"I'm sorry," said Sister, even though she obviously wasn't, "but they were badly wrapped, and I'm not sure who each parcel was meant for. But I'm sure you won't mind." She turned her nose up, and bustled off to the next table.
Tom grinned at me. "What do you suppose they are?"
"I don't know, but I think we should open them upstairs," I said, so we grabbed the packages. And sprinted up to our room.
I flopped straight onto my bed, while Tom shut the door. He did it with care, and sat down softly on his sheets, placing his package gently next to him. For a while, he stared at it, lovingly, then looked up at me.
"Go on, you first."
I stifled a giggle. Tom was scared of opening his present. I shook my head, and began to tear open the brown paper. But my fingers were stuck. "Why do I have to go first?" I asked.
"Because I'm older, and you have to do what I say," Tom replied.
"We don't know who's older, silly! We were born within seconds of each other, that's what Sister said. And besides, if you were older, you'd have to go first…" I said, trailing off toward the end.
"Hmm. Why do we open them together? It's special, our first birthday presents, and we need to share it. It feels right, don't it?"
"Doesn't," I corrected him, "but you're right. On three, then?" We both slid our fingers under a loose bit of paper. Biting my lip, I joined Tom on the count down.
Three… My fingers trembled slightly, which I told myself was silly, it was only a present after all, the other children in the orphanage got them for their birthdays all the time…
Two… But Tom and I, we weren't like other children, and my little fiasco this morning had proved it. And we didn't know anyone who to send us present, anyway…
One… I slit open the paper and gasped. A beautiful wave of shimmering green material slipped out of the package and onto the floor. It lay there, at little pool of perfectness, and for a while it was all I could not to pass out for its splendor. Then awe turned into want and greed and longing, need for something this fine to call my own, something I had been starved from my whole life. I picked it up and hungrily caressed the flawless fabric against my check.
I noticed it was a scarf, woven from wool so fine it could not be of this earth. Surely only the Gods have items of this purity. I tenderly wrapped it round my neck, shuddering as it touched my skin. I felt as though a part of me had been awakened, and it strangely felt like the real me, the part of my being that had been oppressed up until now. Electricity surged to my finger tips, and left me feeling light-headed and dizzy.
"It's amazing," I heard Tom whisper next to me. With a jolt, I realized I had completely forgotten he was in the room with me. Looking over at him, I saw he had a scarf like mine, only his was red, and had little gold strips adorned to the ends. It was magnificent, but didn't hold the same charm as mine; it didn't shine.
At least, not to me.
"Happy birthday," I said, smiling. Tom looked up, wonder etched across his suddenly child-like face. He could only grin in return.
-
For a while, Tom and I merely discussed each other's gifts and how beautiful they were but we soon got onto the topic of who had sent them.
"It couldn't have been any of my relatives," I said, "they're all dead."
"It might have been my father… he's still alive, I heard."
"But he made it clear he wanted nothing to do with you when he left your mother out for Death."
"True…"
"And they are of such quality… No human could've made them."
"What're you saying?" asked Tom, excitement lighting up his face.
"Magic." I whispered. It may have just been my imagination, but the lamps seemed to flicker gently, as if a sudden surge of energy had run through them. Tom noticed it too, and shivered slightly. An idea hit me. If the scarves were magic, and they had found their way to us, then maybe…
But what should I do? Did I have to say a magic word? Do a dance? Wave my hand? In the end, I decided against all of those. I simply concentrated as hard as I could on what I wanted. I imagined the lamp turning on, imagined the spark of light that normally brought the lamp to life coming from my mind and exploding into existence.
I felt the power building up in my head, throbbing down into my veins like some kind of life force pushing through my blood. Then, suddenly, the lamp went on. It cast a soft yellow glow across the room causing Tom to look at it oddly.
"Did you… But you can't have… You didn't move… Unless… Oh my God!" His eyes widened, and his mouth opened and closed like a fish. "You did do it! Using magic!"
I nodded, a smile creeping onto my face. "At least, I think I did…"
"This is amazing! Joana, this is… is huge! We're magic!"
"Well, I'm magic," I said indignantly. Tom waved his hand impatiently, as if these were mere details to him.
"Don't you remember what Sister said? How your mother didn't look as though she'd just had a baby? And how my mother sang that song before she died, and your mother was the only one who knew what it meant? Well, maybe it was some secret special magician's song that only wizards and witches know!"
"Tom… I'm not sure… Wizards and witches… God says magic is bad, it's work of the devil, Tom," I said, scared.
"Joana, is this bad?" Tom asked, weaving his fingers into his scarf and waving it in my face. "You turned on a lamp. That's hardly evil, is it?"
"I suppose not," I said, biting my lip, still not sure. But then I remembered what had happened this morning and I became fearful again. The Devil had gotten inside of me and changed my appearance! What if something worse had occurred? What if I'd become possessed? I told Tom my fears, my voice becoming high-pitched and stuttery. A few singular tears fell down onto my freckled cheeks.
"Jo, it's all right. Come here," he said, pulling me into a tight hug. "There's no need to be scared. To be honest, I'm worried, too. But then I remember how amazing this could be and I forgot all that. This could be our ticket out of this hell! We're better than everyone here! We could have them serving us, if we wanted!"
"Yeah…" I said, and even though I was yet to be convinced of his domination idea, I sniffed, wiped my eyes and smiled "We are better than them, aren't we?"
"Yes, we are. Now," said Tom, letting go of me and standing up off the bed. "Let's see if you can alter your looks again!" For the next hour, Tom and I stood in front of the cracked mirror that was attached to our wardrobe and tested my shape-shifting ability. At first, I was scared but as time went on I realized that it wasn't a curse or something to fear, but a gift.
First, I tried the blonde hair I'd woken up with this morning and found it was relatively easy to conjure up. Next, I tried altering the shade of blonde to a lighter hue. It was harder than I'd expected it to be. I wondered if it was because I was changed a smaller detail of my appearance or because I hadn't 'worn' it before.
"Try me," said Tom, smiling.
"What?" I asked.
"See if you can do a female version of me!"
I imagined Tom's high cheek bones, intense black eyes and soft, shiny dark hair. I examined myself in the mirror, but shook my head.
"Not handsome enough and too masculine." I decided. I concentrated really hard this time. I thought of my chin becoming slightly less pointed, my jaw line softening, my hair becoming longer and straighter… When I'd finished, I was thoroughly satisfied.
Tom stared at my, eyes wide open and mouth agape.
"W-we could be twins! That's amazing, Jo!" he said, coming to stand next to me in the mirror. He was right; a stranger would've looked at us and seen no differentiating features between us other than our sexes. In a way, I was proud to look like Tom. I'd always envied his good looks, and had always wished to be his sister. This was as close as I was ever going to get.
We soon made it into a game; Tom would suggest one of the children or staff members from the home and I would create an exact replica of them. It entertained us until the low, reverberating sound of a gong signaled that it was lunch time. I quickly recalled my own appearance, and walked to the door of our room when Tom called out, "Wait!"
"What?" I asked, my hand on the door knob.
"Take your scarf off."
"Why?" I asked, one eyebrow rising skeptically.
"The other children… they'll get jealous and steal them!" Tom looked at me earnestly and I couldn't help but giggle a bit.
"Don't be silly, the others are far too scared of us to do anything like that. And besides, we have magic powers! We could keep them at bay if they decided to attack us," I said, smiling, as if Tom was being silly.
But Tom wasn't joking around.
"Take your scarf off now," he said, the glassy black eyes I loved freezing over and becoming cold as ice.
"No," I said, defiance creeping into my tone. I wasn't going to do what Tom said, it was foolish. He had no right to command me in such a way.
"Jo…" He said warningly. "I want you to take your scarf off." His voice was low and his eyes flashed furiously. I admit I was scared senseless, but I still held my ground. Backing down was not something I was used to.
"And I said no. I want to show it off," I said, stroking it gently with my free hand (the other still held the door knob).
Tom's face pulled into a nasty sneer. "Fine," he spat, and I expected him to do something, hit me, yell at me, anything. The silence he gave me instead was horrible. It made the room hot, as though I was slowly burning.
But it wasn't all over I was burning. I noticed this now as I thought about it more clearly. In fact, it was just in one particular place I was scorching.
The hand that was clutched to the door knob. The hand I now couldn't move from its clasped position. The hand that was now slowly blistering from an intense and unbearable heat that was now radiating from the door handle.
I gasped in pain, wrenching at my fist trying to pry it free. But my fears were realized: my hand was going to stay put until it was charred to a crisp.
I glanced around the room to search for the reason why my hand was trapped, and was shocked to find Tom staring, brow furrowed, at me and the door.
"Tom!" I pleaded. "Please! You're hurting me!" My chin trembled violently and tears fell in torrents from my eyes. Tom, however, was dead to my cries.
"Take off the scarf, Jo," he said calmly.
"Yes! Yes, I promise! I'll do anything!" I sobbed. "Just please, let me go!" Tom briefly closed his eyes, then opened them again, a stony expression on his face. I immediately felt the invisible glue holding my hand in place fall away, and I stumbled backward as quickly as possible.
"That was your fault," Tom said softly. "You shouldn't have made me do that."
"How can you say that?" I sobbed, brandishing my hand at him. Angry red blisters and welts scarred the surface of my skin. Pain throbbed down my arm. Tom gazed at it indifferently.
"Change yourself so it looks uninjured. You don't want Sister finding out, do you?"
I shook my head, and focused on my hand healing. When I looked back down again, it appeared as though the whole incident had never happened, but when I gingerly brushed where the wound had been with my fingers, sharp, stinging pain rippled around my entire forearm.
Tom regarded my handiwork, smiling. He removed my scarf from around my neck and folded it up neatly. He placed it next to his on the bottom shelf of our wardrobe. All the while, I remained perfectly still, scared witless. Tom straightened up and started talking, without turning around.
"I can make bad things happen to people who are mean to me. Never forget that." I swallowed, my dry throat able to force out a couple of strangled words.
"I won't."
"Good," he said, swiveling round and grinning warmly. "Now, let's go down to lunch." He took my bad hand and half-dragged me out of the room.
AN/ Phew! Well this was longer than expected! Siriusly, this is the longest chapter I have ever written. I hope you take your time to thank me by reviewing. If you don't… I'll send Axel to come and get you. While you sleep. Wait, no, that's a good thing… Okay, Marluxia. Or Saix. Or both. Just… review, okay? XD