Spellbinder Notes (Day 10)

Species (according to Ursa):

10) MagicTeller

- sounded like gypsies (or is it proper to call them Romani?)

- travel around in large caravans, putting on shows to entertain and sometimes swindle customers.

- tell fortunes, read the future, and convene with the dead

o this isn't for show…actually one of their abilities (so cool!)

o possess a literal third eye that allows them to see the spirit world which exists in the same world but a different plane

§ ? – so there are different worlds and places (I'm getting a headache)

§ Very cool that they only need physical contact to see someone's future, past, or power potential/level

For several months Chenoa became absorbed in her training. As a result, many aspects of her normal life suffered. While her grades did not slip down more than half a letter grade, her attention in school did and a few of her teachers called home to inquire about her. Chenoa found herself constantly exhausted, trying to balance both regular school and Spellbinder school. It ended up leading to more than one fight with Papa Bear, who had still not accepted Chenoa's decision to follow her "destiny."

Gabby and Nick no longer noticed the shadows following Chenoa, because they had forgotten about them. After the incident when the strange man attacked Chenoa and Gabby, Cor had decided to block the memories in Gabby and Nick. He had known Gabby noticed something that she shouldn't, but, as Cor went to ease her mind on the day of the attack, he saw that Nick too had noticed something strange. In order to protect Chenoa and the peace of mind of Nick and Gabby, Cor cleared their memories.

Yet since the memories had been cleared, Gabby didn't have the faintest clue why her best friend was suddenly too busy to spend time with her. The only time Chenoa and Gabby spent together was on the bus to and from school as well as their shared class time. Gabby couldn't help but feel that Chenoa was hiding something from her, and it hurt Gabby's feelings that Chenoa didn't trust her enough to tell her. Such feelings started to create a rift between the two best friends, one that Chenoa wanted to heal.

"Why can't I just tell her?" she asked Ursa for the millionth time.

"Because she probably wouldn't believe you in the first place. Then you would try to prove it and someone you do not intend to see it may," Ursa sighed in frustration. "Humans, as a rule, do not like what they call magic. They lack the abilities, so they deem it as wrong or evil. You don't want people to know you are a Spellbinder."

"I would be careful."

"No, Chenoa. That is the last we will discuss of it. Besides you have other things to worry about."

"Like what?"

"There is another Spellbinder."

"Really? So, I'm not the only one anymore?"

"Technically, this other person is not the only one anymore. From what I have gathered this Spellbinder is older than you."

"Okay. So what? Is it good or bad that there is another Spellbinder?"

"It depends. Spellbinders are so rare that there are usually only two every few generations."

"I don't get what you mean?"

"Every species in both worlds is born in twos. It is this strange cosmic thing that occurs, and no one knows why. Now these two don't have to be born at the same time. Sometimes hours or days can separate their birth, but occasionally it can be years, though never more than four. Again no one knows why."

"What does this have to do with me?"

"When we discovered or knew that you were to be born, we assumed another Spellbinder would be born in one of the realms as well. However, it appears that you were born following the other Spellbinder."

"Does order of birth matter or something?"

"No. It truly means nothing, but, in this case, it could mean that this person has had more time to train than you have."

"So?"

"At the moment we don't know if the other Spellbinder is a good or bad one. We also don't know if this person will be your friend or foe. We hope for a friend, but, if the Spellbinder is your foe, with years of experience more than you, it could be a problem."

"You don't even know if this Spellbinder is in this realm. Me and this other Spellbinder are most likely never going to meet."

"Oh, you will meet your opposite, Chenoa. All people meet their other at some point in their lives. The length of time and the frequency of meetings vary, but they do meet at least once."

"Their other?"

"The person that is born as their balance."

"If they are the balances, do they have opposite powers of the other person? Or what? And if they are balances as you say, why are they born at different times?"

"You ask very good questions, Chenoa, but, unfortunately, I do not know most of the answers to be honest. Their powers are not opposites all the time. Sometimes they are the same powers. Their abilities and powers are not what make them balances. I mean sometimes it is, but it can also just be their personalities and choices. There is no one formula for everyone."

"Okay…anyway, so what about this other Spellbinder?"

"It's nothing really to be worried about at the moment. The other Spellbinder is out there and must be aware of you now as we are aware of him or her. We can only hope that this other person is either on our side or just not interested in you."

"Our side?"

"Well, some Spellbinders in the past have found other Spellbinders to be competition or threats. We just have to hope this Spellbinder isn't that type."

"Will I meet my opposite?"

"At some point, you will. I don't know when though."

"Okay. I think it would be cool to meet another Spellbinder."

"Be careful what you wish for, Chenoa. You may get what you want, and it won't be what you thought it would be."

Chenoa shook her head. Be careful what you wish for was such a cliché idea. Everyone knew it, but her life wasn't a book or movie. Of course, she did just learn she was a Spellbinder, which she had thought was fiction. At times Chenoa wondered if she made the right choice. Sometimes she thought she should have walked away. These thoughts came on the days her workload felt as if it was going to crush her and on the days that Gabby grew tired of coming in second in Chenoa's life.

Three months passed, and Gabby was fed up with Chenoa's secrecy. They finally made it to the mall, but Chenoa kept mentally drifting off. She was exhausted and kept practicing spells in her mind. After the millionth time of Gabby asking Chenoa a question and Chenoa not responding, Gabby lost it.

"Jeez, Chenoa, it's not like you're even here," Gabby sighed.

She stopped dead in her tracks.

"Huh?" Chenoa started.

Looking around, Chenoa realized Gabby had disappeared. Gabby stood in the middle of the mall walkway; her arms folded across her chest. She felt frustrated, lonely, and left out. Chenoa had always been her best friend since she moved to town. Now she felt as if she was losing Chenoa to some unknown force.

"What did you say, Gabby?" Chenoa asked.

Stiffening, Gabby tightened her jaw.

"Forget it, Chenoa. I'm done trying to force you to spend time with me. I'm supposed to be your best friend, but all you do is hide stuff from me. We barely hang out anymore and I'm done trying. When you want to be my best friend, let me know."

Spinning around, Gabby stormed off. A crowd appeared as Chenoa tried to dash after Gabby. Yet the crowd was so thick, it ended up buffeting her backwards. Stumbling, Chenoa tried to get her footing.

Someone caught her in hands like talons. She gasped as pinching pain forced her to look up and back. A man with auburn hair and steel eyes looked down at her. His face was sharp, bird-like, and hard with a large hooked nose, razor sharp cheekbones, jawline, and chin. He could easily pass as bird of prey.

Instinctively, Chenoa tried to jerk free as the crowd dissipated. The man's grip held firm though and Chenoa suddenly felt like a mouse caught in the clutches of a hawk. Clearing her throat, Chenoa maintained eye contact, despite her wiggling stomach. This strange man never seemed to blink. He rolled his fingernails across her upper arm as if he was drumming them on a table.

"I am sorry I bumped into you," she finally smiled.

The man said nothing.

"Would you mind letting go?"

Still nothing.

"Uh, sir? Can you hear me?"

"Yes," he replied in a voice like crunching gravel.

"Could you please release me?"

"You mean would I please release you."

Bristling, Chenoa had a flashback to her second-grade teacher who would always correct her may's and can's. Taking a deep breath, Chenoa forced a broader smile.

"Would you please release me?" Chenoa repeated.

"Can you make me?"

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me, Miss Spellbinder."

Heart stopping, Chenoa felt her jaw tighten. His eyes didn't waver or falter. They were hard and felt like a wall. He leaned in slowly and took a deep slow intake of air, closing his eyes as if he really inhaled something other than air. The exhale of air hissed and hummed.

"I don't know what you are talking about."

The man smirked then leaned in closer taking another deep breath. Faintly smiling, the man focused so intently on her that she had to suppress a shiver.

"Awe, but you do, Ms. Spellbinder. You reek of spells."

"Who are you?"

"Don't you mean what am I?"

Chenoa nodded, stunned. He turned her around, so they were facing properly. His grip tightened so much that Chenoa winced. The man seemed to vibrate with something that was making the hair on the back of Chenoa's neck stand up. She felt as if he was just too close.

"Or should I be asking what you are?"

"You are crazy. Please release me."

"I am not crazy. I know what you are, even if you hide it from that precious little friend of yours."

"Were you spying on us?"

"Aren't you a paranoid bitty Spellbinder?"

"Stop calling me that. You don't know what you are talking about. Please release me!"

"Make me, Spellbinder. Show me if your will is stronger than mine."

"What is wrong with you?"

Chenoa's voice was loud and reverberated off the walls. Her heart raced as she panicked. What and who the hell was this strange man? During the conversation her voice had become progressively louder, while his stayed soft and rough. However, the people in the mall didn't seem to notice. They all kept moving around as if Chenoa and the man didn't exist in the same space. Chenoa couldn't see it, but there was an odd haze shimmering around them.

"I said make me."

His nails seemed to morph into sharp talons that pierced Chenoa's skin. She yelped in pain and surprise. Then sudden anger flooded her. How dare this complete stranger just hold her captive! Chenoa may not know who or what he was, but nothing gave him the right to hurt her.

"Let go of me!" she screamed.

From her chest burst a wild energy as her hair whipped back in a violent wind, her eyes blazing in fury. The man was thrown backwards, flying through the crowds of ignorant people as they continued walking obliviously. He smashed into a large pillar in the mall, crumbling to the floor. Chenoa gasped loudly, covering her mouth in shock and fear. The man did not move. Her body hummed and tingled with a heat that felt both pleasurable and intoxicating. For a long moment she watched the man, but he still did not stir.

"Oh my god!" she suppressed a sob.

Turning, Chenoa fled from the mall. Had she just killed a man? It hadn't been her intention. She just wanted him to let go of her. She had just wanted him to leave her alone. But the power that had surged through her body had been so great that she had not been able to hold it in. Even as the words had formed on her tongue, Chenoa had felt the greatness of her will surging forward and she had tried to stop it, but she couldn't. It would have burst forth from her even without words. Yet as Ursa had warned her, words have their own will. The words combined with whatever power had risen from her belly and that power was scary and uncontrollable. Chenoa didn't like it. She didn't want to be something that powerful or unstable, because that is what it was. Unstable. Chenoa knew she had no control over it. If it happened again who knew whom she could hurt…if Gabby had been around…Shaking her head, Chenoa tried not to imagine. Her father had been right. She shouldn't have messed with this stuff. It wasn't right…it wasn't safe.

The man whose beauty rivaled that of the heavens separated himself from the crowd in the mall. No one noticed him as he watched Chenoa flee from her own power. His eyes were sharp in contemplation. Licking his lips, he wondered if even he could stand up to such a blow. Sighing he turned to the crumpled heap that was his servant.

"Wake up," he said calmly.

His words seemed to glimmer in the air before sinking into the bird man. Stirring the bird man groaned. Blood trickled dark brown with red sparks from under his hair line. His eyes were unfocused and his skin a sickly yellow. He looked up at his master, disconcerted and bewildered. Then his eyes followed where his master was watching, and he saw Chenoa disappear around the corner.

"So, it worked," he coughed, small flakes of the brown blood exiting his mouth.

"Yes. I guess she does have a bit of power," his master said, sounding unconvinced.

"That I would say, master."

"But no control."

"Not unless she is vicious person."

"She is not. She is too kind to be cruel and to be able to control her powers correctly."

"Kindness is not a fault, master."

"It is when you are a god."

"She is not a god…"

"No, she's not."

The master turned to leave, and the bird man cleared his throat quickly.

"Master?"

"Huh?"

"I know I will heal on my own soon enough, but some assistance would be appreciated."

Glancing down, the handsome man started. He forgot that his servant was in such bad condition. Chenoa's spell had not only forced him to release her, but it had broken every bone in his hands and smashed him backwards in the chest. Tutting his tongue, the master bent down and looked at the crippled hands. The pain had to be excruciating, yet his servant sat there with a blank, tranquil face.

"Of course, Ark," he said apologetically.

Waving his own hand over the mangled ones, the master whispered tenderly, "Heal."

Instantly Ark's hands cracked and snapped as the bones, tendons, and skin all realigned. A soft sigh escaped Ark's lips as the pain faded away and his hands were back to normal. Yet he still could not move from the injury to his chest. His master waved his hand and the shirt opened to reveal Ark's chest. A black handprint marked his wiry chest, lying directly over his sternum. Red marks radiated from the hand, showing how the fractures and breaks all started from the handprint. It was gruesome to look at but fascinating in its own rights.

"She hasn't lost her touch, I see," the man tried to sneer, but his eyes were creased with concern.

"Can you heal me, Master?" Ark asked cautiously.

"Don't be stupid. Of course, I can," he snapped back, scowling.

"I didn't mean to question you, master. I just know that her will was very strong."

"But never stronger than mine. Now be silent so I can heal you."

Ark laid back, resting his aching body. His master quietly waved his hands and muttered several words as he concentrated hard. Soon there was the sound of realigning bones and tissue again. The red lines disappeared and only the handprint was left.

"I feel much better, Master, thank you," Ark said with a gentle smile. He could see his master's frustration as the handprint remained.

"I am glad, but stay still. I am still working."

"It is okay, sir. I don't mind a scar. I am full of them."

"I will finish healing you as I said."

Ark knew better than to argue with his master, so he stayed quiet. Yet the master tried again and again and nothing worked. He studied the handprint for a long time before he finally understood what was so strange about it. Laying his own hand over it carefully, the man's eyes grew wide as did Ark's. The size of the print as twice as big as his own hand.

"That cannot be her hand, sir," Ark whispered. "She is powerful, but just a wee thing."

"No, it is not, Ark. She obviously broke the bones in your hands and arms, but someone else did this."

"But who, sir?"

"I don't know. They kept themselves well-hidden even from me."

"What does that mean?"

"It means we may have to move up my plans."

"Why?"

"Because I can't risk someone else taking her before I do."

When Chenoa got home, she hid in her room and refused to come out. She made sure her windows were closed tight and her door locked. The image of the man or whatever he was haunted her. How could she have done that to someone? She never ever wanted to hurt someone. It wasn't why she was learning to be a Spellbinder. In fact, she really was training so she could protect people. After she had learned that her mother had died to protect her, Chenoa couldn't help but want to ensure she would be able to protect those she cared about so she would never lose someone again.

After an hour, a soft purring reached her ears. Looking around, Chenoa startled at the small, cat-sized Ursa sitting on her bed. Chenoa had no clue how she got in but there Ursa was, just watching Chenoa.

"Do you want to talk?" Ursa asked sweetly.

"How did you get in?" Chenoa quickly inquired.

Ursa just smiled, swinging her tail in a soft tempo. Chenoa knew that smile already. It meant Ursa wasn't going to tell her. Petting Ursa, Chenoa looked away momentarily.

"Something happened today at the mall," Chenoa began.

"Did you have a fight with Gabby?" Ursa encouraged.

"Yes, but that's not what I'm talking about. A man approached me, and he knew I was a Spellbinder."

"What?"

Ursa tensed.

"Yeah…he said he could smell the spells on me."

"He did, did he? What else did he say?"

Chenoa gave Ursa a brief rundown of what happened. Ursa listened intently, her eyes growing darker as she listened. Once and while she would nod her head, but otherwise she asked no questions and made no comments. When Chenoa finally finished, she took a deep shuttering breath and waited for Ursa to talk. Yet Ursa didn't say anything for a long time.

"You did the right thing, Chenoa," Ursa finally said, laying her head back down on the bed, closing her eyes.

Waiting for more, Chenoa chewed on the inside of her cheek. Ursa didn't speak again though.

"That's it?" Chenoa finally asked, confused.

"What more can I say? Do you have questions for me or something?" Ursa responded, opening her eyes quizzically.

"I don't know, but it feels like it was a big deal. I mean how did he know I was a Spellbinder? What was he? Should I be worried?"

All the panic that Chenoa had been suppressing flooded to the surface. The fear of the man and the fear of herself rose into her chest and she felt as if she was drowning.

"Chenoa," Ursa said softly. "You need to relax."

"How can I relax?" Chenoa squeaked and was startled by a sparking noise.

Jumping Chenoa looked around but didn't see anything until she looked at her hands. Her body was glowing a two-toned red as small sparks flicked off her body like embers being spit out by a fire. Gasping, Chenoa held her hands out in front of her, her heart racing in fresh terror. The glow intensified as well as the sparks.

"You need to relax, Chenoa," Ursa repeated more firmly.

"What is going on?" Chenoa whispered.

"You are scared so your body is reacting. You are instinctively protecting yourself. You must relax so that you can control it."

"How do I do that?"

"Deep breaths and focus on your heartbeat. Try to slow your heartbeat down."

Gulping Chenoa tried, but her panic was blaring in her ears. Ursa padded up to her and stretched out her long neck until her scaly forehead rested against Chenoa's. There was a spark then Chenoa felt like cool water was splashing over her hot body. She saw her woven energy flow from her body onto Ursa, where it glimmered momentarily then sunk into Ursa's beautiful scales.

"Now calm down," Ursa sighed, her voice very heavy sounding. "I have absorbed some of the excess. You should be able to think clearly now."

Closing her eyes, Chenoa kept her forehead touching Ursa's as she took deep breaths. Her ears did not feel flooded with sound anymore. Her heart felt more controlled. After a few minutes, Chenoa felt the fear and power surge recede into her. They stayed like that for a few minutes before Ursa pulled back.

"I am sorry," Chenoa said, embarrassed.

"Don't be. You have never experienced that before. It can be overwhelming. Yet you must remember how you just did it because losing control over your powers can cause severe chaos."

"How?"

"Your body does that as a self-defense mechanism. Your power would eventually lash out and would take over your body so you would be fighting instinctively with no rational thought. It is a dangerous state. You won't think of the consequences or who might be hurt in the process."

"That sounds awful."

"It is sometimes necessary, but it must be monitored."

"Is it what happened earlier today with the man?"

"Did you notice the sparks earlier?"

"No…"

"Then probably not. It happened now because you are allowing yourself to feel the panic and fear that you suppressed earlier."

"I felt the power surge though. I felt how it belted out of me and how I hurt him so badly."

"You combined your own will with the will of words. That will happen more often until you learn how to separate the two."

"Oh…that's scary, Ursa. I didn't mean to hurt him. I just wanted him to let go of me."

"He knew what he was doing. He was testing you."

"How can you say that?"

"Because I know it to be true. It is the only thing that makes sense."

"Why could he smell spells on me?"

"He has to be from the other realm. This makes me wonder what he was doing over here."

"So, being from the other realm lets you smell spells?"

"No, but it does mean he is probably an anthropomorphic creature."

"Huh?"

"Anthropomorphic creatures are ones that are animals or people that possess qualities of both human and animals."

"Like Morgrifs?"

"No. They are much more simplistic power wise. They are merely talking animals or men who have animal abilities, like sight, smell, speed, and so on."

"Okay…"

"He was probably a man with the abilities of an animal with a great sense of smell. Spells have a strong distinct smell. I personally could tell when you walked in that you had used a strong spell and that someone had used a spell on you."

"Someone used a spell on me?"

"Yes. By the underlying scents, it was a spell to make you invisible. That is probably why no one in the mall noticed your confrontation. It also means that there was a second person there who could use at least basic spells."

"You can smell all of that?"

"Dragons have a keen sense of smell when it comes to spells."

"Oh."

"But, as I said before, you did the right thing. He shouldn't have laid his hands on you."

"You said he was testing me."

"I believe so."

"Then did I pass or fail the test?"

"I don't know."

"Do you think we should be worried?"

"Yes."

"Someone is coming for me, aren't they?"

Ursa looked at Chenoa for a long moment before she slowly nodded her head.

"Who?"

"I don't know."

"Does Cor know?"

"No, he doesn't."

"Is he powerful?"

"We believe so."

"Is there anything I can do to stop him?"

Shaking her head, Ursa looked genuinely sad. Chenoa stroked her friend's head. Someone was looking for her. She had felt it for a while now, but she had been afraid to ask. Part of her had hoped she was being paranoid or self-absorbed. Chenoa had wanted to believe that her training was so intense because she was behind; however, part of her know it was because she may need it.

"He would have come even if I had walked away from my training, wouldn't he?"

"Yes. He would have come no matter what."

"I guess I'm going to see the other realm soon."

"You may very well."

"Is it beautiful?"

"Like nothing you have ever seen."

"It will be exciting then."