So here it is, the second chapter. It's not as long, but it should explain a few things about little Elinor. Enjoy!
Unforgiving, unforgiven.
Elinor followed as the two adults settled in the living room. Andreas took his usual place on the couch while the tall black-haired stranger chose to sit in the leather armchair, which would the most logical option, she figured, for a unwanted guest in an undesired situation because it was closest to the door. And for her, the best option remained the standing position, as it had always been.
Her cheek burned a little, but she paid it no heed, too busy listening to what was being said to care about the swollen side of her face. She had known much worse.
"I believe everything is in order for her departure?" the man was inquiring, not even glancing her way.
At that Andreas nodded and began to ramble on about trivial things such as travelling fees and school uniforms, barely waiting to hear the answers to his questions before digressing again. But the child was already in possession of all the knowledge she needed on that matter, so instead she focused on the man that had been send to safely retrieve her from her home by the Headmaster of the school she was to attend this year. A special school for special children, as Anika so sweetly put it.
A school for witches and wizards was how Elinor saw it. Of course, she knew everything about the magical world to which she rightly belonged, and she also knew that she wasn't supposed to behold such knowledge. The only problem resided in the fact that her guardians also knew that, and they strongly resented it.
As long as she could remember, Elinor had always been capable of achieving bizarre – even impossible – things. What others would struggle to learn and accomplish, she would readily carry out, as though she already held the necessary knowledge. But that wasn't all. As a baby, because she couldn't yet control herself, most unusual phenomena would happen around her on a daily basis: she used to make things explode when either angry or sad, and if she'd felt threatened in any kind of way, the temperature would've dropped drastically. On the other hand, when really she'd been happy the furniture would start flying around the house and any electrical item would either break down or begin to function on its own.
Then, with time and practice, she had learned to control this energy and bend it to her will. And a few weeks after finally becoming skilled at that, a man had knocked on the door of their house.
Karl Henning.
Clad in a dark blue cloak, not unlike the one the stranger wore himself actually, he had been the very first wizard the little girl had made the unfortunate acquaintance of. And from there on, everything had gone downhill.
For just a moment she felt the sting of betrayal run through her spine, down to her feet. It had been wonderful to know that she wasn't alone in the rabbit hole.
"You are special," he'd told her, his blue eyes piercing holes through her very soul. "And so am I."