Here's the first chapter! If you didn't read the introduction page, I recommend that you do, as it explains a lot about some of the characters you're about to meet. In fact, you may want to refer back to the intro as each character is introduced if you're not too familiar with them already.
Oh, and thanks to my first reviewer, your words really made me smile!
"Are you sure you didn't conjure the bird?"
"Yes! I told you already, I wasn't even thinking about birds! Besides, I was in the next room over, and I've never been able to conjure anything outside of my line of sight," defended Jude, the only conjurer in Magic School. He sat across from the skeptical Melinda Halliwell at a table in the main room of the institute. Earlier in the day, a pigeon had appeared in one of the rooms in the North Dorm, much to a few boys' dismay.
"Okay, but where else could it have come from? The windows are protected by magic; nothing can get in or out. Otherwise we'd have levitation students flying out over the bay all the time!" Melinda had spent most of her afternoon talking to half of the boys in Magic School, and she still couldn't figure out where the damn bird came from.
"Look," sighed Melinda, her hands gently massaging her temples. "I know Bradley said that the window was open, and that he didn't actually see the pigeon until it landed on his homework. But it's just not possible that a stupid pigeon could break through the most powerful magical barriers ever created!"
"Well, have you tried testing these all-powerful barriers of yours?" her cousin Prue asked from the other side of the vast room, hovering four feet in the air in search of a specific book from the tall cases lining the walls.
"No, Prue," Melinda retorted with a glare in her direction. "Do you want me to get fried?"
Having given up on her search, Prue dropped herself down to the marble floor and started toward her cousin. "If it would help figure out your little mystery, sure I do. We could always have Wyatt heal you."
Jude, completely uncomfortable with his interrogation, slowly rose out of his seat, prepared to go back to his room to hide. Melinda, of course, snapped her head back around to him, scolding with a tone remarkably like her mother's. "Where do you think you're going? I'm not finished with you yet!"
"I'm telling you, Mel, I didn't do it! Why won't you believe me?" he cried, out of ways to defend himself. He turned to Prue in search of some help handling Melinda and her touchiness, only to find the dark-haired Cupid-Witch squinting at him.
"He's telling the truth," Prue stated, matter-of-factly. One benefit of her power of empathy was that she could almost always tell when someone was lying. Luckily for her, Jude was incredibly easy to read. He was simply too jumpy and awkward to tell a solid lie.
"Fine," Melinda scoffed, rising from the large wooden table. "I guess I'll go figure out what happened on my own then. But I know," she said pointedly at Jude, "that a student's magic is behind this. I just need to figure out whose it was." And with that, she strutted out of the room and down the endless hallway out of sight.
"Sorry about her," consoled Prue. "She's probably just trying to play hero since her brothers do so much around here. She'll get over it." Jude slumped back into his chair, overwhelmed. Dealing with people, especially sharp-tongued pretty girls, was not his forte. At least the blame was finally off of him, though.
"Since we're on the subject," Prue pondered, absentmindedly pushing in Melinda's chair, "how is your power coming along? I know you've been having some trouble with it." As one of the Charmed children, Prue had a natural role of guidance among the students of Magic School. Jude had been blessed with a rare power, one that no one else in the school possessed, and he had a lot of difficulty mastering it. It was no wonder Melinda blamed him for the mysterious appearing pigeon, as he could hardly try to conjure an apple without coming up with a lemon instead. At age seventeen, he was expected to have more of a grasp on his power, but magic had never been his strength. His lack of confidence in his abilities only made things harder for him.
Jude sighed, resting his face in his hands. "Not great. Mr. Halliwell—"
"Wyatt," Prue corrected. Wyatt hated to be called that.
"Sorry, Wyatt—said that I have good control over concentrating and timing, but I guess I'm just not good at getting the image I'm thinking of to come out the way I want it. It's stressful. He's like, this awesomely powerful witch with about seventeen powers and I can't even conjure a nice red apple consistently."
Prue pursed her lips, sensing the blond-haired boy's frustration. "Well, everyone gets a handle on their powers at different rates. I can't imagine your power is even the slightest bit easy. Your powers are like calculus, while mine are basic algebra." Jude laughed, his cheeks turning a soft shade of pink. "Besides," Prue said cheerfully, "no one here is judging you. Especially not Wyatt. You're one of his favorite students."
"Really?" Jude asked in disbelief.
"Absolutely. Of course, he adores all of his students, but he really admires your self-discipline and determination. They're really important qualities in a witch."
Jude's cheeks had gone even redder. Praise was the last thing he expected from people. "He told you all that?"
"He didn't have to," the empath said with a smirk, and returned to her place by the bookcase.
As she magically lifted herself back up to the top shelf of old books, Prue began to wonder how the bird did manage to get into the school. The enormous institute was cloaked, hidden, shielded, and heavily imbued with powerful white magic in its spot over the famous Golden Gate Bridge, hidden from the naked eye. Nothing could get in or out of the buildings without magic – portals, teleporting, spells, you name it. It had been that way for thousands of years. The thousands of pigeons and seagulls that flew over the bay always flew right through the school, not even knowing it was there. Did that finally change?
It's probably nothing, Prue told herself. She pushed the thought to the back of her mind and focused on her books.