I read Tattoo by Joice and was inspired by her to create this
§
On the first day of senior year, anticipation buzzed through the halls. Students rushed around comparing schedules, swapping vacation stories, and greeting old friends.
At the center of the commotion were Spud and Jake, best friends who stood out like pillars amid the ever-moving crowd.
Spud was six foot two, broad-shouldered, and sporting a comfortable ensemble of cargo shorts and a light blue baggy shirt, paired with blue-and-white Vans that contrasted playfully with his curly hair. He looked every bit the laid-back goofball who'd just spent the summer working out.
Jake, on the other hand, was six feet tall with a more athletic build, dressed in a bold red dragon tee, black denim shorts, and matching red-and-black Jordans. His black hair, tipped daringly with green, was cropped into a sharp undercut that flaunted his easy confidence.
Trixie approached them, her curly 4C hair gathered into a high ponytail that brushed her shoulders every time she turned her head.
She wore black low-waisted leggings that folded over and flared at the bottom, a lavender sleeveless crop top that hugged her figure comfortably, accenting the dark purple belly piercing at her navel. Her lavender and black Adidas completed the look, and at five-foot-six, she normally wouldn't have felt small. Yet something about the way Spud and Jake stood with their girlfriends made her feel like an outsider.
She barely had time to open her mouth before Stacey, tall at five foot eight and wearing white high-waisted shorts with a baby-blue halter top, bounded toward Spud.
"Hey babe!" Stacey chirped, looping an arm around him and giving him a quick kiss.
Rose, just as tall tall and poised in a pair of low-waisted jeans and a pink ruffly top, joined Jake's side with a gentle smile.
The two couples, (well Rose and Jake weren't official yet) exchanged greetings full of inside jokes, and Trixie realised she was standing there, out of the loop.
Spud broke away first, noticing Trixie's hesitation. "You okay, Trix?" he asked, genuine concern in his voice.
Trixie forced a smile, shrugging. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just thinking about that 2,500-word essay Mr. Wayne's gonna make us write in English."
Jake grinned, reaching out to tap Trixie's shoulder. "You'll be fine, Trix. You're basically the queen of essays."
Rose nodded in agreement. "Totally. You've always nailed English, right? Your top of every class for a reason"
Stacey added with a sympathetic smile, "You're way smarter than Spuddy here, if that helps." She gave Spud a playful nudge.
He laughed, rolling his eyes. "Gee, thanks."
Despite the warm banter, Trixie felt her chest tighten. The four of them looked so cozy, so wrapped up in their own relationships, and she ached for the familiarity of her best friends.
She didn't care they had partners, she cared about the simple fact they forgot about her more than they should.
Forcing a polite smile, she took a step back. "Thanks guys, I'm gonna head to class." Her voice sounded stiffer than she'd intended. "See you later."
She slipped away before they could respond. As she walked down the corridor, she noticed how Jake and Spud barely seemed to realise she was gone, both too busy with Rose and Stacey.
Since Rose came back a month ago, Jake decided to go ghost on her. It was hypocritical considering he hated the fact that Spuds time went to Stacey solely. It left Trixie feeling more isolated than she wanted to admit.
'That's what my ass gets for not making any other friends' Trixie thought bitterly.
She felt so much frustration at how suddenly Jake did a 360 on her. All that flirting they did really made her believe they could have been more.
Rose coming back only showed her what a fool she truly is to believe so.
He could never go from a tall blonde to a black haired woman. And that was her putting it nicely.
'I've never been Jake's type anyway' she sighs in disappointment 'nor do I fit into his world'
By the time she reached English class, her heart felt heavy. She sank into a chair at the front, hoping the lesson might distract her.
Mr. Wayne started talking about their upcoming essay, the lights flickering slightly overhead, and Trixie stifled a groan at the mention of the essay's length. Suddenly, her vision blurred. She blinked, surprised to see a drop of sweat on her notebook.
Her pulse quickened. "I don't feel well," she muttered, pressing a hand against her forehead.
Mr. Wayne paused his lecture as he saw her pale. "Trixie, you okay? Go see the nurse if you need to."
She mumbled her thanks, gathering her belongings with shaky hands. Her footsteps felt heavier with each step toward her locker.
After stowing her books, she headed for the nurse's office, her breath coming shorter with every moment. By the time she pushed open the door, her chest felt tight.
The nurse, an older woman with warm blue eyes, took one look at Trixie and guided her to a cot in the corner.
"You're unwell, my dear," she said gently, touching Trixie's forehead and letting out a small gasp. "I'll contact your grandmother. Your condition warrants some relief." She offered Trixie two Neurofen and a paper cup of water.
"Thank you" Trixie swallowed the pills, laid her head back, and shut her eyes.
The room seemed to tilt beneath her, shapes and colors fusing into a swirling haze until she was no longer in the nurse's office at all. Instead, she found herself in a vast Victorian bedroom, draped in regal shades of purple and gold.
She glanced down, astonished to see that her clothes had transformed into an opulent gown, its skirt swishing around her ankles. A jewel-encrusted wig perched on her head, and a mirror on the wall.
"Damn, I'm Queen Charlotte in this bitch," Trixie muttered, touching the delicately made wig.
A male voice behind her responded, "You wish."
She turned, heart jolting, and stared into the twinkling blue eyes of a flame point ragdoll cat. He sat with a certain pomp, tail curled neatly around his paws. "This is your mind, your fantasy," he said, voice laced with a crisp London accent.
Trixie blinked rapidly. "Who are you?"
"Odis," the cat replied with a proud purr. "I'm your familiar. Aren't I charming?"
Trixie tentatively reached out to pat his silky fur. "I guess you're fluffy," she answered, voice wobbling with confusion. "What's happening? Familiars are for witches, right?"
Odis snorted delicately. "Your grandmother wasn't lying when she insisted you came from a long line of witches. She just couldn't figure out why you never manifested your powers. But your mother decided she'd prefer you live a 'normal' human life so never backed her up on it. Just acted like she was crazy"
"That doesn't make sense," Trixie retorted, scowling.
"Let me start from the beginning, darling," Odis said, his tone softening. "Your father was a powerful warlock. He didn't die in the military, that was a cover story. He sacrificed himself in the magical realm. Your family name was once Cartil, not Carter. You're part of the Dalia Cartils, nobles in a realm called Lunaria."
Trixie felt tears burn her eyes. "You're saying my dad died… fighting in some magical war?"
The cat nodded solemnly. "He fought a dark lord who threatened to destroy countless lives. He was the only one strong enough to hold him back. Your mother and grandmother hid your true identity to keep you safe from those that will seek your powers. The less you knew, the less danger you'd be in."
Trixie lowered her gaze to the swirling purple skirt she wore. "So why am I here?" she asked, voice shaking.
"Because your magic finally decided to awaken," Odis replied. "Many witches and warlocks unlock their powers as toddlers or younger. You my dear, are a special case. This vivid dream is just your mind's way of adjusting. I'm at your home, by the way, waiting to meet you properly. Your grandmother's on her way to pick you up from school. You'll wake up in about five minutes."
Trixie pressed a trembling hand over her chest, trying to slow her breathing. "That explains the weird stomach issues since my birthday yesterday."
"Better now than never," Odis grins. "But for you, it's right on cue. And you also know the American Dragon. That will come in handy."
Trixie's eyebrows shot up. "Jake?" she blurted out "How do you know about that?"
"I've been watching over you since you were born, love," the cat said with a smug shrug. "Familiars are assigned to powerful bloodlines. Yours more than qualifies. We'll talk more once you're home. I'm sure your grams should be collecting you at any moment"
Trixie opened her mouth to respond, but the world lurched. She saw Odis's lips moving, but she was yanked from the vision by a hand gently shaking her shoulder. She blinked awake to see her grandmother's anxious face hovering above.
"Grams," Trixie croaked, voice sluggish.
"Let's get you home, love," Grams said softly, helping Trixie sit up.
At fifty-five, Grams looked no older than her late twenties, with a honey-brown hue to her 4c hair and luminous skin that practically defied age.
Guiding Trixie out the nurse's office, she half-supported her granddaughter, an arm looped around her waist.
"I met my familiar" Trixie mumbled once they were safely in the car.
Grams nodded as if this came as no surprise. "I know, dear. That's why I came as fast as I could. What did Odis tell you?"
"That Dad was a warlock, that I'm a Cartil, that Mom kept it from me to protect me… all of it," Trixie said, voice shaking as she tried to process it. "You're a witch too?"
Grams laughed, the sound warm and comforting. "I'm from a long line of witches as well. Did you think I looked this young at 55 just from good genetics? Black don't crack, sure, but magic helps."
They drove home, arriving in minutes. Trixie noticed her mother, Dorothy, pacing in the living room, hands clenched. The moment they stepped inside, Dorothy rushed over.
"Trixie," Dorothy exclaimed, eyes brimming with worry. "Are you okay?"
"I'm better now," Trixie admitted, collapsing onto the L-shaped couch. "But I feel sick."
On cue, a soft meow sounded from behind the couch, and the flame point ragdoll hopped up beside Trixie, settling on her chest. "Darling, you made it," he teased, nudging his head under her chin.
Trixie gaped, then burst into a disbelieving laugh. "Holy shit, you're actually here. I've always kinda wanted a cat."
Grams smirked, crossing one leg over the other as she sipped a glass of whiskey. "Funny, I pegged you for a dog person."
"They're too annoying and too much of a commitment," Trixie muttered, absently stroking Odis's soft fur. "Guess you'll have to do."
Odis lifted his chin. "I'll pretend I didn't hear that," he said loftily, though he didn't resist the gentle scratches under his jaw. "Now then, to business. I suppose you have questions?"
Trixie shifted on the L shaped couch, glancing between her mother and grandmother. "Yeah, I have questions. For starters, how come you both never told me any of this? Dad's not just some random soldier hero, he's a warlock who died saving an entire realm? And we changed our name from Cartil to Carter to hide me?"
Dorothy sighed, plopping down next to Trixie and rubbing her shoulder. "Sweetheart, I wanted you safe. Magic can be dangerous, especially since you're the last Dalia Cartil. Your father had a target on his back, and I didn't want that on you. I'm half-blood, my own powers never amounted to much. But you…" She paused, eyes glistening. "You have real potential."
Grams set her whiskey glass down with a soft clink. "Your father came from the house of Dalia Cartils, nobles in Lunaria. My side of the family had ties to the realm too, though I left that life behind when I fell in love with your grandpa, Jerome Proud. He was human. We met when he accidentally stumbled upon a portle and was transported to my kingdom." She giggles "We visited one another frequently. We settled here, away from all the politics in the magic real. But then Dorothy met your dad, and we got pulled back in."
Odis flicked his tail. "I've been assigned to serve the Dalia Cartils for generations. When your father realised he would have a child, he secured a pact ensuring I'd guard her from the moment her magic awakened."
Trixie felt her head spin. She pressed her palms to her temples, half expecting to wake from another dream. "So I have powers I don't understand, a cat who talks, a father who died fighting some evil, and a name I didn't know was mine. Did I miss anything?"
Dorothy gave a sad smile. "Just that we love you, Trix. We wanted a normal life for you. But maybe it's time we told you everything."
Grams leaned forward, eyes kind. "It won't happen overnight, but we'll fill in the blanks. You've stepped onto a path you were born to take."
Trixie exhaled, stroking Odis's fur as she tried to absorb the whirlwind of revelations. There was a tangle of emotions in her chest, grief for her father, betrayed confusion at having been lied to, and the faintest spark of excitement. For all the strangeness, a part of her felt oddly… awake.
Odis purred louder, as if sensing her turmoil. "We'll go at your pace, dear. But know this, the Dalia Cartils are not merely warlocks and witches. They are guardians of an ancient power. In time, you'll learn precisely what that means."
Trixie stared at Odis, petting him almost unconsciously. "I still feel like I might faint," she admitted. "So all those times Grams told me we had magical ancestry, she wasn't just being eccentric. She was actually telling the truth."
Grams smiled wryly. "I might have a flair for the dramatic, but I never lied, Trix. Your father's family, the Dalia Cartils, are powerful nobles in Lunaria. They guarded a unique form of arcane energy for centuries. Your father sacrificed himself to ensure that power didn't fall into evil hands."
Odis rolled onto his side, paws in the air. "And now you, Trixie, might inherit that guardianship. You're the last Cartil with the potential to wield it. No pressure, of course."
Dorothy's phone buzzed, and she silenced it with a frustrated sigh. "Everything's happening at once. Trixie, I know this is overwhelming, but you need to rest. We can talk about the specifics tomorrow."
Grams set her whiskey on the coffee table. "Or," she drawled, "we can begin your training right now. Let the girl see her heritage for herself. She won't be able to rest until she has some answers."
She snapped her fingers, and in a shimmer of soft light, two identical leather-bound books appeared out of thin air. One drifted gracefully into Trixie's lap, the other to Grams's outstretched hand.
Trixie's mouth fell open. She lifted the volume, running her fingers over the ornate cover. "Whoa," she whispered, excitement mingling with apprehension. "How… how did you do that?"
Dorothy rolled her eyes, though there was a faint smile tugging at her lips. "Mum, really. Let the poor girl breathe. She just found out she's a witch. Maybe ease her into it."
Trixie looked between them, adrenaline surging. "No, I… I want to learn," she said, surprising even herself. "I feel like I'm going crazy if I don't get some kind of explanation."
Grams nodded approvingly. "That's more like it, child." She flipped open her own copy of the tome. "These books detail the kingdoms in Lunaria, including your father's domain, the Cartil homeland. Actually, we call it the Dalia Province. In simpler terms, you might think of it as a fiefdom or a region in the magical realm."
Odis stretched languidly. "Your father's family line had the responsibility of maintaining the wards that protect Lunaria's borders from dark influences. That's partly why he was able to fight the dark lord. He had a deep connection to the realm's magic."
Trixie turned page after page, scanning elaborate illustrations of castles perched on cliffs, landscapes covered in glittering mists, and monstrous beasts that seemed halfway between nightmare and legend. "Did Dad… actually live here?"
Grams rested a hand on Trixie's arm. "Yes, for a while. He journeyed back and forth between Lunaria and this world, but Lunaria was his birthright. When I first met him, I was visiting some old acquaintances. He was brimming with power, glowing, really. Your mother fell in love with him on sight, and he was equally smitten. That's how we ended up with you."
Dorothy's voice was thick with emotion. "He died two years after you were born, Trix. I had to raise you alone with your grandmother's help. Hiding you was the only way I could protect you. The Dalia Cartils have enemies… magical creatures who'd do anything to obtain a part of your father's powers."
Trixie swallowed hard, eyes tracing a striking illustration of a fierce serpent-like dragon. "Grams, are dragons real there?" she asked, feeling a thrill of curiosity and wariness in her chest. A flash of memory made her think of Jake, who had his own secret, but she bit her tongue. She wasn't ready to spill that, not yet.
"Real as you and me" Grams answered. "They can shapeshift, breathe fire. Some are wise counsellors, some more feral. The realm is vast, there are kingdoms devoted to elemental magic, and others that revolve around flora and fauna. Dalia was one of the proudest provinces, known for its advanced spellcraft."
Odis leapt from Trixie's lap to perch on the couch's arm. "Your father's bloodline oversaw the Heart of Dalia, a magical source believed to balance energies across the realm. If it's misused, it could bring about chaos. It's one reason the dark lord wanted to wipe them out." He offered Trixie a grave look. "With your father gone, you're the last true heir."
Trixie's breath caught in her throat. "So… does that mean I'm supposed to pick up where Dad left off? Fight evil if it shows up again?"
Dorothy stepped closer, pressing a warm palm to Trixie's cheek. "Only if you choose to, honey. I won't force you. We hid you precisely so you could have a life without these burdens. But if the power is calling you, it might be impossible to run from it now."
Trixie closed the book in her lap, hugging it against her chest. The swirl of revelations, the weight of destiny, the pang of her father's sacrifice, it all interlaced with the everyday ache of losing her two best friends to their relationships. She felt both terrified and oddly thrilled.
She looked at Grams. "You said training. What exactly does that entail?"
Grams's face softened. "Start small. Basic spells, a deeper understanding of Lunaria, controlling your bursts of magic. You need to grasp who you are and what you're capable of. Then you can decide how much you want to be involved. This might mean travel to Lunaria someday, meeting your father's old allies. But for now, let's just get you stable so you don't pass out in class again."
Trixie's head pounded with the enormity of it all, yet she managed a shaky laugh. "I'd appreciate that. I don't think the nurse wants me popping by every day."
Odis gazed at her with a hint of mischief. "Don't worry. I'll be at your side, guiding you, teaching you. I might look like a simple cat, but I'm older than you can imagine."
Dorothy checked her watch with a weary sigh. "I have to head back to work, but we have two weeks cleared for you—school's all right with it, once I explained you had a sudden health issue. That should give you some time to catch your breath. Your test and essay are postponed, so focus on, well… everything else."
Trixie felt a surge of gratitude. "Two weeks off?" She breathed out, relieved yet
nervous. "Thanks, Mom."
Dorothy leaned in, planting a soft kiss on her daughter's forehead. "I love you, Trix. I'm sorry we kept this secret for so long, but I hope you can understand."
"I do," Trixie said, voice catching slightly. "I love you too."
As Dorothy departed, Grams sank into the couch with a contemplative sigh, gently patting the cushion beside her to encourage Trixie to settle in. The older woman's eyes shone with a mixture of nostalgia and wistful sorrow, as though each memory she was about to share held both joy and a tinge of heartbreak. She drew a steadying breath, letting the hush of the room cradle her words.
"Now, about your father's kingdom…" Grams began, her voice quiet yet carrying the resonance of a well-worn story. "He was the third son, believe it or not, but the most gifted magically. The family lived in an old citadel perched above a valley of lavender fields, with two winding rivers that glowed under moonlight. Some folks used to call it the prettiest corner of Lunaria, a place where stardust seemed to settle on every blade of grass, and the night sky shimmered as if it were draped with crushed jewels."
Trixie inched closer, her pulse fluttering in excitement. The notion of her father ruling a piece of Lunaria, with fragrant fields and moonlit rivers, sent a rush of wonder through her. "And he was a prince? Or… a lord?" she asked, her tone brimming with breathless curiosity. The idea of her father holding such a station felt larger than life.
"A noble," Grams clarified, a faint smile curving her lips. "Not precisely a prince, but high-ranking enough that he was treated like one due to his raw power. He had responsibilities, ruling a portion of the Dalia Province, maintaining protective wards around the valley, ensuring no dark creatures managed to slip through. Your father always carried that duty so seriously. He believed that if you had magic, you used it to protect others. It was ingrained in him, as natural as breathing."
A soft feline purr rose near Trixie's feet, and she glanced down to see Odis, her flame-point ragdoll familiar, brushing his tail along her ankles. "He was also known for his profound compassion," Odis interjected. "Stories are told of him stabilising entire townships during harsh seasons, channelling his power for days on end just to preserve crops or shield families from storms. That's exactly why, when the dark lord advanced, your dad never once hesitated to fight."
Grams's voice dipped to a solemn hush, her gaze drifting toward a distant recollection. "He possessed immense magic, enough to stand against dire threats and still, the battle claimed his life. But he saved countless souls in Lunaria, and likely on Earth as well. The evil he banished would have spilled into our realm, had he not intervened."
Trixie's throat constricted with emotion. She looked down at the antique spellbook on her lap, its pages worn and edges gilded with age. An ache formed in her chest as she imagined a father she had never truly known a hero in a distant world. "I wish I'd known him," she said softly, voice trembling with a grief she couldn't fully express. "I grew up thinking he was just gone, killed in the military. But it was something bigger, wasn't it?"
"You can still learn who he was," Grams assured her gently. "Through the mementos he left behind, letters, personal artifacts, stories that others told. Right now, though, we won't weigh you down with too much. Today has already been a whirlwind: discovering your magical lineage, collapsing in the nurse's office…"
Oddly enough, Trixie felt a tenuous calm spread through her even as the memory of fainting at school lingered in her mind. "It helps, hearing about him," she murmured. "It's like I can sense him better when you talk about those lavender fields and that shining citadel."
Grams's responding smile etched deeper lines into her face, lines made of years of laughter and tears. "Then I'll tell you everything, eventually. Including how I met your grandfather, Jerome Proud, in Evermist Glen, of all places, and how your father grew up straddling two worlds. It's a rich tapestry, child. You're woven into it every bit as much as I am."
Trixie's eyes sparkled with renewed eagerness. "Tell me about your kingdom, Grams, and about our family. If there's a whole realm out there that's connected to me, I want to know it."
Odis hopped up onto the couch, settling near Trixie's knee. He wrapped his bushy tail around his front paws with an air of regal poise. "Yes, do enlighten her. She deserves to know all those hidden stories. They're part of who she is."
Grams chuckled, her voice taking on a faint musical lilt. "The Moonweavers, yes, that's the full name I come from. I hail from Evermist Glen, a domain quite distant from Dalia Province but still under Lunaria's vast umbrella. We're widely recognised for two specialties, healing magic and sealing spells. We're a noble family, but our work is more service-oriented than political. You'll find that Evermist Glen is wrapped in near-constant morning mist, with silver-barked trees that tower high as small skyscrapers. There are plants there that bloom only under the soft glow of dawn. My folks taught me how to weave protective incantations by the time I could barely toddle, and I never lost that knack."
Trixie leaned in, practically breathless. "Healing and sealing… so, you can literally lock up monsters or curses? Like in a magic vault?"
"Exactly," Grams replied, her tone tinged with pride. "Everything from wandering specters to corrupted artifacts. If it's a danger to people, we have a way of confining its power so it can't wreak havoc. Your father's family, the Dalia Cartils, favored direct confrontation. Clashes of might. Meanwhile, we Moonweavers specialised in subtle containment. Merged together in you, that's an extraordinary combination."
Momentarily speechless, Trixie let the gravity of this new knowledge settle on her shoulders. She could practically feel the lineage in her blood humming with potential, two robust magical branches converging.
"Wow," she finally whispered. "I guess that explains why all these weird things are suddenly happening, like that daydream I had with Odis."
Odis flicked an ear, a trace of amusement dancing in his bright blue eyes. "If you're overwhelmed, don't be afraid to say so. There's time. No need to rush."
But Trixie shook her head, breath hitching with excitement. "No, I want to learn. Actually, could you show me some magic now? Something small, so I don't end up fainting again the moment my powers flare."
A soft grin tugged at Grams's lips, and her gaze flitted over to Odis before returning to Trixie. "If you're truly up for it. You did have quite a dizzy spell, after all."
Trixie swallowed, remembering all too well the sudden rush of vertigo in class that led her to the nurse's office. "I'm fine," she insisted. "Better to do something productive than sit around panicking."
A purr of approval rolled from Odis's throat. "That's why familiars exist, to help witches and warlocks channel their power safely, so it doesn't overwhelm them."
Nodding, Grams reached for a modest, timeworn volume resting on the coffee table, its spine cracked and pages tinted amber with age.
"Alright, let's begin with a foundational spell," she said, flipping carefully through the yellowed parchment. "A simple protective ward, meant to help you tap into your aura and hold a small barrier. It might look unimpressive, but it's a cornerstone of magical training."
Trixie took a calming breath, rolling her shoulders to release tension. She could almost feel the buzz of anticipation thrumming in her limbs. "Okay. What do I do first?"
"Close your eyes. Inhale slowly, exhale slowly," Grams coached, adopting the gentle yet firm tone of a seasoned teacher. "Picture a glowing spark deep inside your chest, near your heart. That is the seed of your magic. Guide it down your arms to your hands, then let it emerge from your fingertips. Make sure you're breathing steadily the whole time."
A quiver of excitement mixed with anxiety in Trixie's stomach as she shut her eyes. She envisioned a gold ember pulsing in her chest, each throb in sync with her heartbeat. For a long moment, she sensed only her own racing pulse. Then a flicker of warmth bloomed, like a single glowing coal lighting up in the darkness of her consciousness.
She breathed in, coaxing the warmth upward through her shoulders and into her arms. At first, it felt abstract, like trying to will blood flow with mere thoughts. But suddenly, a tingle rushed into her palms, making her fingers twitch.
"Just like that," Odis murmured, his voice low and reassuring. "You're doing fine."
Trixie dared to open her eyes. She let out a startled gasp when she saw wisps of pale gold light dancing around her fingertips, faint and flickering but undeniably there. She felt her heart leap, half in joy, half in shock. "Oh my God," she breathed, "it's… real."
"It's very real," Grams affirmed, pride shining in her voice. "Now, replicate the pattern in the book, the runic circle. Let that light trace the symbols in the air."
Casting a sidelong glance at the page, Trixie lifted a trembling hand. With slow, deliberate motions, she began to trace the curving lines of the rune, a circle flanked by angular loops. Each sweep of her fingertips left a ribbon of glowing energy behind, forming an ethereal shape in midair.
Her excitement crescendoed, her pulse pounding loudly in her ears. She was shaping magic, raw and alive, weaving it into a protective circle. The swirl of gold wavered slightly at first, but as she maintained steady breathing, it solidified. She felt an odd, gentle pressure around her body, as if a bubble had enfolded her.
A shiver ran down her spine. She kept the spell active for a few more seconds before her arms, already tired, faltered. The ward fizzled with a faint crackle, then popped out of existence like a snuffed candle.
Panting, Trixie lowered her hands. "That… was unbelievable," she said in a tone of breathless awe.
Grams's expression glowed with approval. "Remarkable job for a first try. You formed a visible ward, something that can take novices days, if not weeks, to accomplish."
Odis leapt onto the coffee table, regarding Trixie with an impressed tilt of his head. "Credit goes to your lineage, though your own determination helps. Just remember not to overextend yourself. Even small spells can drain you when you're new."
Trixie let out a shaky laugh, leaning back against the couch. Her heart still hammered, and her arms felt leaden, as if she'd been lifting weights. "Yeah, I can tell. This is more exhausting than it looks."
"Magic is a form of exertion," Grams agreed. "One you'll grow accustomed to. In time, simple wards won't tire you at all."
Despite her fatigue, Trixie's mind buzzed with possibilities. "What else can I do?" she asked, eyes shining. "Something like… a sealing spell?" She recalled how Grams had mentioned sealing incantations were a hallmark of the Moonweavers family.
At the mention of sealing, Grams's grin curved wider. She reached for a small wooden box on a nearby shelf, placing it on the coffee table. "This should suffice for practice. Let's try a basic seal that prevents magical meddling." She flipped to another page in the timeworn tome, one bearing ornate lines and symbols that Trixie hadn't seen yet.
Trixie fought a new wave of excitement. She carefully examined the new runes, noticing how they spiraled inward like a labyrinth. "So I just… do the same thing? Channel energy, draw these shapes, and speak the incantation?"
"Precisely. Focus on the intention: no one can open or tamper with the contents—at least, not without breaking the seal."
Drawing a deep breath, Trixie closed her eyes again, calling forth the warm ember in her chest. She guided it down to her arms, feeling a shudder of relief when she realized it was easier the second time. Her palms still tingled, but the sensation wasn't as jarring. Then, reading the runes from the corner of her eye, she traced them above the wooden box, voice trembling as she pronounced each syllable of the incantation.
A subtle hum filled the air, and Trixie felt a soft pulse of energy sink into the box. The runes glowed briefly around its edges, barely more than a faint flicker, before fading into invisibility.
"Okay, I think… something happened," she said, brow furrowing. She tried lifting the lid of the box, and it didn't budge. She let out a small, triumphant laugh. "It worked! I actually sealed it!"
Grams tried to open it as well, nodding in satisfaction when she couldn't move the lid. "A proper seal, indeed. It's not especially advanced, but it's functional. No casual sorcerer could break this without some effort."
Odis curled his fluffy tail around his paws, exuding smug contentment. "Well done. And you've done two spells in one sitting, impressive for someone who just awakened her powers."
Elated, Trixie set the box down, though her euphoria was soon tempered by a wave of exhaustion that washed over her body like a heavy tide. "That took more out of me than I expected," she admitted, rubbing her temples. She suppressed a yawn, warmth suffusing her cheeks.
"Nothing unusual," Grams said in a soothing tone. "Using magic, even in small doses, drains you. You'll develop stamina with time, but that first day can be quite draining."
A sheepish grin tugged at Trixie's lips. "I guess I am a bit wiped. Maybe I should get some sleep, let all this sink in."
Grams reached out, brushing a stray curl from Trixie's forehead, an unmistakable affection in her gesture. "Go on then, dear. Head to bed. We've done more than enough for one evening. Tomorrow, we'll chat further, maybe discuss your father's old citadel or delve deeper into Evermist Glen. There's so much more for you to learn."
Gathering the tome and the smaller spellbook, Trixie rose unsteadily from the couch. Odis hopped to the floor, padding after her with quiet footsteps. She paused in the doorway to glance back at Grams, who looked on with a glowing combination of relief and pride.
"Thanks, Grams," Trixie said softly. "For everything."
Grams's eyes shone, and she waved gently. "I'm just glad we can finally talk about all this in the open, Trix. Sleep well. And if you feel another surge,if anything odd happens, don't hesitate to wake me."
Nodding, Trixie slipped down the hallway, her mind aswirl with images of lavender fields, shimmering rivers, the towering citadel her father had guarded, and the mysterious Evermist Glen where her grandmother once roamed. She felt more alive than ever and yet more vulnerable, all at once.
In her bedroom, she placed the spellbooks on her desk, then tugged on an old T-shirt and a pair of loose pajama pants. Odis, with a graceful leap, settled onto the windowsill, his pale fur catching the soft glow of the streetlamp outside.
Trixie sank onto the bed, blinking away the day's lingering adrenaline. "So… this is real," she mumbled, half to herself. "I have magic, and there's an entire realm I know nothing about, plus a lineage that's apparently kind of a big deal."
Odis regarded her with steady feline composure. "Far more than a big deal, my dear. You're the child of two prominent lines, Dalia Cartil and Moonweavers. There's much you can accomplish if you so choose."
A slightly giddy laugh escaped Trixie's lips. "That's such an insane sentence. But also… kind of amazing." She pulled the blankets up, comforted by the weight of them. "Can't believe I'm saying this, but… I'm excited. And scared. But mostly excited."
A slow blink was Odis's only immediate reply, but it felt approving. "Embrace that excitement. It'll keep you courageous when things get tough."
With that, Trixie reached over and flicked off the lamp, letting the room settle into a hush broken only by the distant hum of nighttime traffic.
She closed her eyes, scenes from the day replaying against her eyelids: the swirl of golden light around her hands, the box refusing to open, the vision of her father's citadel shining under moonlight.
Sleep crept in, quiet and insistent, enfolding her in drowsy warmth. She drifted into a realm of half-formed dreams, scented with lavender fields and illuminated by softly glowing rivers. In the corner of her mind, she thought she sensed her father's presence, distant but smiling, as though watching to ensure she found her footing on this new and wondrous path.
