Chapter One

A Chapter by Topaz

An introduction into Fiona's World of Magic and Wizardry

“Fiona Elizabeth Stewart! Get up! You cannot stay in bed all day! I need your help today in the garden"the weeds will not pull themselves, you know!”

A stray curly red strand, managed to poke itself out from underneath a puffy down pillow, defiantly resisting the plan to stay in bed until noon. The pillow blocked the bright sunshine, dancing upon the homemade quilt as a little pink toenail, gingerly crept out of the safety of the warm covers.

“Oh Fee, why do you have to stall? You know that “The Girls” are coming over for book club, and it always goes better when you are there to help set up.”

Fiona's Aunt Marcie, pulled the heavy drapes wide open, completely flooding the attic room with brilliant light. She hummed to herself, as she picked up stray clothes, tugging on the exposed pink toe, and tickled the rest of the foot with her.

“Come on Honey, get up"oh but that is a nice nail color"what did you call it?”

“It's called PINK, Aunt Marcie! Hey, stop, tickling me, I'm up, I'm up! Geez! Why are you having book club on a Saturday anyway? And why do you still call it “Book Club” you know I know what it REALLY is.”

Marcie smiled to herself, and said “Oh Fee, you know, you are just too bright for me! I keep forgetting that you are growing up and too sophisticated for code words anymore. One cannot be too careful, you know; and as far as it being Saturday, it just so happens to be so close to June 21^st .”

Fiona sat up in bed, watching her aunt pick up stray clothes, dust and vacuum practically all at the same time. Marcie Stewart was a busy woman, oozing in nervous energy, but never scrimping on love, was a paragon of patience and was an excellent teacher. Her easy laugh, and her pretty face, belied the fact that she was indeed a witch.

No, she did not wear all black, in fact her rosy cheeks, white apron, and pink rosebud print dresses only enforced the opposite impression. As the Queen of Domestication, she was often called upon to host parties, as well as to cook for the local Meals on Wheels, participated with the Ladies Society, and often hosted outdoor weddings on their meticulous land and herb garden, and showed the Mansion with the Historic Home's of New England society, as well as Parade of Homes.

“Fee Honey, what are we going to do with your hair? It is so crazy-wild! I wish you would let me work on it, dear, a little swish here and a little swish there and I could fix you up in a jiffy, Hmm? No?--BUT if you STILL insist on using a non-magical method, I know I could get Miss Kitty, at the beauty shop to straighten it, cut it or something.”

Fiona took a deep breath and exhaled deeply, “You know that I love my curly hair, Aunt Marcie. It reminds me of mom"and it is not that I have a problem with magic"Aunt Marcie, its just that using magic goes against my philosophy of trying to be NORMAL!”

Aunt Marcie harrumphed, audibly sighing while shaking her head at her still young witch of a niece, so stubborn, desperately trying to ignore her magical heritage. Normal, Indeed! Wagging her finger, but saying nothing, Aunt Marcie exited the room with a practiced patience of an experienced parent of a teenage girl. Fiona listened as her aunt obviously decided to use the spiral staircase, instead of teleporting, missing the creaking step, all the while muttering to herself, to sprites, or to some other unseen entity.

Fiona, did a full body stretch, yawned, and turned her head towards the window, squinting at the bright sunshine streaming into her attic room. Noticing the cat at the end of her bed, Fiona gingerly peeled off her heavy quilt, and stealthily climbed out of bed, trying her best to be careful to avoid disturbing her aunt's nosy and very bossy cat, Percival.

Too Late! Percival opened one eye and said, “You know she's right, don't you. It is such a waste of energy for you to insist on doing things the mortal way. You should be more like a cat, or better yet, start acting more like a witch than the mortal that you ARE NOT!”

And with that, he too, obviously disgusted with her, stretched fully, jumped off of the bed, and stalked off in search of breakfast and a better sleeping location. Resigned to the fact that she would not be sleeping in this Saturday, Fiona sighed and murmured to herself, “I wish that they could just understand me.” as she pulled on a pair of comfortable jeans, a lightweight tank top and gathered up her thick unruly red hair as best as she could with a thick hair scrunchy that she found under the bed, as it would be hot as soon as the sun was in full effect. After she tied her sneakers, and cuffed her socks, Fiona started down the spiral staircase to face the day, and the long list of summer chores that surely awaited her.

Downstairs, the grandfather clock ticked, the familiar click of knitting needles clacked, and the teapot looked quite ready to explode with molten furry all the while pouring its contents into two huge mugs all by itself, everything in motion with the mystical familiarity of magic. Aunt Marcie was nowhere to be found. Even Percival was absent, but not surprising considering how peeved he had been just a few moments ago. Quietly, Fiona took her seat at the kitchen table, where she noticed a very large envelope made of heavy parchment. Fiona lifted it up carefully, feeling its powerful magic, noticing the heavy wax seal first, and secondly, that it was addressed to her. Next to the large envelope was a handwritten note from her Aunt Marcie its silvery, magical handwriting fairly danced upon the page, with anticipation of being read as Aunt Marcie's clear voice proclaim:

“Dearest Fiona,

Good morning Dear, I have gone out for a bit of running around before The Girls come this evening. Please set up all of the chairs in the gazebo like normal, the scrying bowl in the middle, as well as setting up the tables for the deserts and hot tea. Please double check with the groundskeeper, that we have enough wood for several bonfires tonight, and make sure that he shows you where he placed all of the piles. I would like at least 10 separate bonfires"he will roll his eyes, but he can manage the extra work in a jiffy" its nothing a little magic cannot fix. I would also like you to check on the garden, as I am sure that the garden Gnomes have run amok, thus allowing for weed growth. I swear they must have unionized, as they no longer do the work that they did 30 years ago, but I digress! Do your best to round up the Gnomes, perhaps using a nice treat from the ice chest, perhaps MAGIC might be used to persuade them to get to work! As far as the letter addressed to you, yes, Dear, by all means open the letter, for it surely is your class list, dorm requirements, roommate assignments, as well as new school regulations and freshman registration.

See you this afternoon,

All my love,

Aunt Marcie”

Fiona smiled to herself, the note was typical Aunt Marcie"flamboyant, with flourishes and bots"all for a simple chores list! “Well, the list could have been worse”, Fiona thought to herself. Gnome Containment, had been her job for years, and after years of refinement, Fiona had figured out a way to round up the Gnomes without resorting to Magic, or the utter destruction of the plants and flowers. As far as the chairs were concerned, well that would be the hardest job, as she was but one person and would have to set the chairs up one by one all by herself. If she started now, she could be able to set those up before Aunt Marcie got home, thus, preventing yet again, one more lecture about Magic, her Gift, and her unused Legacy.

The huge parchment envelope waited for her, she could feel its anticipation and its desire for her to open it, but just as she was about to succumb to its spell, she pulled her hand back, grabbed a gooey cinnamon roll with one hand and a hot mug of tea with the other, and decided to get about the business of household chores before satisfying her curiosity about The North American Academy of Magic and Higher Learning.

It was close to 3 o'clock before the last Gnome was rounded up, and to her surprise, she managed to finish her all of her chores before Aunt Marcie had gotten home! With her laundry list of chores completed, Fiona was now able to take a quick shower, run her fingers through her unruly red hair, and change into a nicer outfit"hoping even to have time to spare so that she could sit down and open her letter from The North American Academy of Magic and Higher Learning.

Even as Fiona changed into her lightweight sun dress, and low strappy heels, Fiona had to admit that she liked having The Girls come over to the mansion. The Stewart Mansion"as it was often called by the locals--was a rambling affair with turrets and a huge wrap around porch, a classic Victorian paint job in maroons, creams and blues, which easily made it the most recognizable and memorable home in the neighborhood. It was easy to forget that the mansion was glamored, so from the bottom of the hill, it looked like every other mansion nestled in the New England countryside, but if you had magic, you could see and feel it for what it really was like. The Stewart Mansion had been in the family for centuries, and to magic users, it had a familiar magical feel to it for it was alive, and could communicate with its family and with its environment"only those with the gift or with strong karmic natures, even those with tiny magic could feel its subtle power. Fiona had many fond memories of friends coming to visit her childhood home, rolling down the grassy hills, giggling and laughing hysterically. Since the house was glamored, Fiona was able to have magic and non magic friends visit without any worries that their family secret be discovered, but because of this magical protection, it was a constant reminder of her uniqueness, further widening the divide between herself and her classmates.

Keeping the Secret added a level of responsibility to Fiona that she often resented. Most of her junior high school friends knew that she was leaving them to go live with her Aunt Margot in Oregon. Moving her Freshman year was something that Fiona was not too sure she was ready to accept, AND she was running out of time! Her whole life as she had always known it to be was about to change! So, being a witch, going to an academy of magic, leaving her old life and starting high school without her friends, hardly knowing any magical friends well, made this an extremely emotional time for her. Already, it was Mid-Summers Eve, June 21, 2010 and half of the summer was gone!

Fiona sniffed. Why she was allowed to live a normal life for so long, to have it taken away at this point in her life, and to what purpose! What was her purpose? At 14 years of age, Fiona felt as she was being thrust into a an ocean of uncertainty, filled with sharks, and with only arm floaties to support her. Fiona's eyes began to well up, threatening to spoil her eye makeup, and suddenly Fiona realized that she was still in the downstairs bathroom, sitting on the toilet, her chin in her hands, and on the verge of tears. The African Violet were wilting with her sadness, and the water sprites were wailing with grief. Fiona sent out a wave of forced calm, finding that center within herself, thus temporarily relieving her pain but also restoring the nature currently under her influence of sadness.

“This was a happy night!” she told herself. There would be plenty of time to work through her issues, but now she had better go find her Aunt Marcie who was undoubtedly wondering what was keeping Fiona in the bathroom. When The Girls came over, there were no secrets to keep, and it was nearly always fun, giving Fiona an opportunity to mingle with other young magic users--that tagged along with their adult counterparts--like herself, starved for magical teenage fun and excitement, but still too young to participate with this evenings ritual.

To Fiona, the best thing about The Gathering, was watching the arrivals. It was like a private parade or circus, usually the older witches arriving by broom and black hats, while other less traditional witches might arrive via teleportation, wand swishes, finger snaps"no two entrances were alike"and always with a barrage of color, patterns or outrageous dress! Huge feathered hats, heavily sequined headdresses, gold or silver threaded shawls, heavy robes, wool or linen cloaks, cotton bloomers and old fashioned floor length dresses, all added to the splendor of this all important holiday event. The Mansion's glamor extended to protect the unusual visitors and their grand entrances, which was good, because there was nearly always some kind of close call or a rocky landing that would force Fiona into fits of hysterical laughter so violent that she nearly threw up!

Naturally, Fiona had her own hooded cloak, but she rarely wore it, preferring to wear what her public school friends were wearing, which irritated her Aunt Marcie to no end, and always made Fiona smile.

“Oh, Fiona! There you are! You did a wonderful job with the Gazebo, and however did you manage to corral the Gnomes so easily? Really dear, you are a marvelous little witch when you want to be.” said Aunt Marcie.

“Darling, please be a dear and carry these platters of cookies to the Gazebo, and then would you please give the mulled wine a stir while you are out there, it would be terrible for it to bubble out before it has had time to cook.” and with that, she poofed, leaving Fiona with two platters of cookies to wrangle out to the garden Gazebo.

Aunt Marcie had chosen to wear a long flowing, deep purple caftan made from a lightweight silk. It rustled as she moved, and the sound was dampened by her heavy velvet hooded robes. Her pointed hat was also deep purple with a slight bend at the tip, and a slightly droopy brim. There were sparkles as she walked, like fireflies, which docilely followed her as she moved. Her voluminous sleeves hid her broom as she walked, making sparks every time it connected with the ground.

Aunt Marcie poofed back, startling Fiona, causing her to almost drop her cookie platters. “Here Fiona, I have a brand new velvet robe for you, as it will be chilly once the sun has completely set. Please honor me by wearing it. The royal blue will compliment your hair, and the mosquitoes wont be able to chew on you. Now, I have much to do, and I will not see you until dawn. Have fun with your friends! And remember, please do not leave the property, as your friends will not be able to follow you because of the wards.” And with that, she gave Fiona a burning kiss, magical of course, and poofed herself to the landing area in order to welcome her guests.

Fiona set the cookies down onto the table, and obediently gave the mulled wine in the cauldron a stir. It was beginning to bubble in earnest, but calmed down immediately once the ladle was given a stir. Fee gave the cloak a look. It was pretty, and of course it would fit perfectly. It was too warm at the moment to put it on, so Fiona draped it over her arm, as she trudged up the hill to find a good place to watch the grand entrance. Actually, she did not have to really hunt for a space, as the teens had a regular meeting spot on the vast property, which doubled as a good viewing area and like moths to a flame, they would know where to find each other eventually as each member of the informal teenage group arrived with the help of their adult guardians.

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