American library books » Romance » First Magic by Raven Steele (classic fiction .TXT) 📕

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effective as a soccer coach for three-year-old’s.

The mayhem slowly spread across the gym, and fights broke out everywhere. May moved to join a nearby one, a grin splitting her face, but I held her back. “Don’t go. You know what might happen if you do.”

Her expression fell, and she slumped back into her seat, realizing I was right. And I hated that for her, but her secret had to be protected.

From the corner of my eye, I saw a girl get punched in the face. She screamed as blood spurted from her nose. I covered my mouth with my hand, my heart thundering within my chest. More people were getting hurt.

I glanced up at the wide, circular florescent lights hanging from the ceiling. I could end this fight, but should I? A teacher fell to the ground and cried for help. More shouting, more crying.

There was only one way to end this brawl quickly and safely.

Staring at the lights, I concentrated hard. It was a lot to manipulate, but I felt confident I could do it. Turning lights on and off was the only part of my abilities I could reliably control. Lame, I know.

My vision burrowed into the light above us until my consciousness connected to it. That’s when I felt the burning inside me, rising from the shadows of the deepest part of my mind. It coated my muscles and bones, raced through my blood in a fevered heat. The First Magic, a power I barely understood.

Sweat broke on my forehead, and my jaw clamped shut as I tried to control the Light. Turn off. Turn off. Turn off. My insides rattled making my bones aches. So much power.

I gave one final mental push. Turn off! A burst of energy exploded from me like juice squeezed from a lemon. Then there was darkness.

Chapter 2

When I was a child, my mother would tell me a bedtime story. At first I loved the dramatic tale, but after hearing it night after night, I grew bored. I often asked for a different one, a book even, like other children, but she always insisted on telling our Auran history. Sometimes she would introduce new characters or change the scenery, but the plot remained the same:

“Once upon a time, thousands of years ago, Light lived among man as intelligent beings. Their presence brought equality and harmony to the humans, and the world was at peace. There was no sadness, pity, or pride; it seemed the righteousness of the people had banned evil from the earth. But when an older prince became jealous of his father’s love for his younger brother, he murdered the young prince in cold blood.

“This deliberate evil brought the once-forbidden darkness to the prince’s heart where he allowed it to remain. There he entertained it; fed it, until darkness overtook his thoughts and mind. Eager to corrupt others, he spread this darkness to those whose minds were open to greed, power, and lust. These new dark ones, Vykens as they were called, were unable to stand in Light’s presence without feeling unbearable pain. Hidden within the shadows of night, Vykens hunted and attacked the Light-filled beings at their weakest moments, almost to the point of extinction.

“To preserve themselves and maintain balance between good and evil, Light hid within the DNA of human females. These women passed Light on to their female offspring, and they became known as Auras. Auras protected their identity for many years, and even learned to use Light’s power to fight against the Vykens. But then the Vykens made a terrible discovery. They found that if they drank the blood of an Aura, they were no longer bound to the night. Not only did the sun no longer pose a threat, but Vykens learned they could manipulate an Auras’ power, and they used it to grow stronger than ever before.

“For this reason, Auras gathered from all over the earth to learn how to protect their human form. They created a council to oversee their safety, and to ensure Auras appeared no different than others.”

I’d heard this story so many times that when my mother reached this point, I was usually asleep. I never knew why she had insisted on telling me the same story over and over until I had it memorized. Even my father had asked her once, “Can’t you tell her a different story, Ella?”

“No,” my mother answered. “Llona needs to know Light’s history. The truth.”

“She will know the truth because she has us.”

“Let’s hope so.”

Their hope had been in vain.

Cries rose in the darkness, but they were no longer the angry voices of a mob; they were cries of surprise. The doors on both sides of the gym opened, spilling light from the hallways into the blackened gym and onto the basketball court. This time when a teacher yelled to exit, students listened.

“Was that insane or what?” May asked.

I couldn't answer. Mentally shutting the lights off had weakened my body.

May touched me in the darkness. “You okay?”

“Yes,” I mumbled.

Students on our bench stood up to leave.

“Let’s get out of here,” May said.

She followed the others out, but I remained still, allowing some time for my strength to return. A tall male form stepped up the bleachers. He looked like a muscular shadow, floating gracefully toward me. His movements seemed so fluid, I was surprised to hear the bleachers shake from the weight of his footsteps.

“Are you all right?” a voice in a heavy English accent asked. It dripped with concern.

My head began to swim, swirling in a sea of muted colors. It was going to take a lot longer to recover than I thought.

He touched me on the shoulder. “Do you want help down?”

I shook my head, unable to speak, but I did manage to stand. Just barely.

“Can you see okay in the dark?” he asked, beautifully and perfectly.

“I think so.”

I followed him down the bleachers as if walking a tightrope. When we entered the crowded hallway, the man, probably a teacher, disappeared into a swarm of students.

After a few deep breaths, I turned the opposite way and slowly headed toward my locker. Like always, I kept my head down and followed the steadily moving line of students. All of a sudden, for a reason I couldn’t explain, I glanced up. Standing against a row of lockers was the same guy who had caught me earlier. He stared at me with a furrowed brow. Maybe he was just noticing how strange I looked.

I knew my appearance was different, shockingly so. My ghostly pale skin appeared to melt into my blonde, almost white hair, making my eyes stand out like the blue of an Arctic wolf’s. The only half-compliment I’d ever received (other than from my parents) was from one of Jake’s friends. He said I was really pretty, in a freakish, Tim Burton sort of way. A compliment? Highly unlikely.

Dropping my gaze, I continued forward, the only way past the guy. When I thought I’d walked far enough past him, I turned back around. He still ogled, but not the good kind. More like gaped at me with his mouth open, like I’d kicked his dog or something.

Could he have known what I’d done back in the gym? I thought about it the whole way to my locker, then to my next class and well into Mrs. Simmons’ lecture on Shakespeare. Impossible. No one could have known. He must be mad for some other reason. Maybe he was upset I’d fallen into him.

I shrugged it off. Oh well. One more person who thinks I’m mentally deranged.

Mrs. Simmons, who always wore pantsuits with shoulder pads, said, “Shakespeare wrote, ‘So, ere you find where light in darkness lies, your light grows dark by losing of your eyes.’ Can anyone tell me what you think he was trying to say?”

For the third time in my school career, I raised my hand. I couldn’t help it. This was one of my favorite quotes.

“Yes, Llona?” The whole class turned and looked at me. “It means you can’t find light in darkness, and if you keep looking for it, you’ll lose your soul.”

Erica, a popular girl, maybe even a cheerleader—I couldn’t remember—laughed. “Are you for real?”

A couple of students snickered.

“That’s a good question, Erica,” Mrs. Simmons said.

My head snapped back to the teacher in shock. Did she just side with Erica?

“Is Llona’s answer real?” Mrs. Simmons asked. When no one answered, she added, “I’ll give you an example. Do you think it’s possible for a person to continually attend parties where people use drugs? They have no intention of ever using themselves. They just want to go and have fun with friends. Is there anything

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