The morning sun filtered softly through the window, rousing me from sleep. But as my eyes adjusted, a sudden wave of disorientation washed over me—this place was unfamiliar. Then, like a tide crashing in, the memories of yesterday came flooding back.
I rose and stepped out of the room, finding my grandmother busy in the kitchen, preparing breakfast. The day before, Cordelia lead me through a peculiar door in the hall. Beyond it lay a room, unlike any I'd seen a fully furnished living space, complete with a living room, kitchen, and private chambers. Later, I learned this was no ordinary room, but part of the Covenry Main Hall, the very heart of the High Witch's domain. It was more a palace than a house, and somehow, my family was entwined with this ancient royalty.
As I made my way to the dining room, a familiar face caught my eye—Alice, seated at the table, wearing pajamas, her hair messy and unkempt. The sight perplexed me. Why was she here, in this state?
I quickly approached Cordelia, seeking answers. "Why is she here?" I asked.
"Oh, Alice?" Cordelia replied casually, as if dropping a secret. "She's your cousin."
The words hit me like a blow. Cousin? I hadn't expected that. "Your mother had a twin—Vivian—but she passed away shortly after Alice was born."
I glanced back at Alice, who met my gaze with narrowed eyes and a slight roll. It was clear she harbored resentment toward me.
"Yes, I'm your cousin," she said with a sharp edge in her voice, "and I'm older than you. So mind your manners and sit down—let's eat in peace." She reached for her utensils, ready to dig into the bacon and pancakes Cordelia had prepared.
I eased myself into my seat, still struggling to process the flood of new information so early in the morning. My understanding of this family—my family—was painfully limited. Everything I thought I knew about them now felt like a fragment of a much larger, more complicated truth.
--
The sooner we finished our breakfast, Alice sprang up and dashed outside, not once glancing back. The moment the coast was clear, I hurried over to Cordelia, eager to press her with questions.
"I need to know about Vivian," I said, breathless.
Cordelia settled onto the sofa, a steaming cup of coffee in hand. She took a slow sip before meeting my gaze. "Vivian is quite different from your mother. She fits the description you gave me perfectly about Gen—vibrant, loud, and fond of the most colorful clothes."
"Before your mother ever met Rufus, Vivian had been involved with a human. She was young and swept up in her feelings, quickly finding herself pregnant. But when she revealed her true nature as a witch, the man's fear consumed him. He nearly killed her in her sleep." Cordelia exhaled deeply, the pain of the memory evident in her voice.
"That's why I erased his memory," she continued quietly. "I wanted to kill him, truly, but the laws forbid it. Still, I would have done anything for my daughters." A sad smile touched her lips.
"Then why did she die?" I asked, dread creeping in.
"We witches are not meant to fall in love with humans. We are fragile in ways they are not. Vivian couldn't survive the birth—she died bringing Alice into this world. From the moment she knew she was pregnant, she accepted her fate, and I could not change her mind."
A heavy sorrow settled over me. I had family, yes, but they were mostly gone.
My eyes roamed the room, taking in the warmth of the house—so full of love, so filled with memories. Then I spotted a photograph: a complete family, with my grandfather standing proudly among them.
"Where is Grandpa?" I asked.
Cordelia smiled softly. "He passed away when the children were barely a year old. His mind was broken by his powers—a cruel affliction common in our lineage. You see, we belong to the royal bloodline. That is why I was a potential High Witch, and your cousin holds that title now."
I realized then that I was not just any witch—I was of royalty, born into a legacy far greater than I had ever imagined.
"If Alice was born only half witch," I asked Cordelia, "did the coven shame her for it?"
She shook her head gently. "No. She was still very young when it happened. Fortunately, they left her alone." She paused, eyes narrowing thoughtfully. "After my daughters were gone, she became the next in line. That's why the council chose her as High Witch."
That explained a lot.
"But doesn't becoming a High Witch require a certain level of power?" I asked, watching her for a reaction.
Cordelia's lips curved into a faint smile as she looked back at me. "Don't underestimate Alice. Being half human doesn't make her any less powerful. Her command over water magic is exceptional. She's one of what we called a Sea Witch." She lifted her coffee and took a slow sip.
I looked down at my hands, remembering my own strange abilities. My magic didn't come from the elements. It was illusions and mimicry—things that had never seemed… natural.
"What kind of magic do most witches have?" I asked, trying to sound casual. "Is it all tied to nature—like water, fire, and that sort of thing?"
Cordelia nodded. "For most, yes. Each witch tends to have an affinity for a particular element they can master. But that's not the full extent of our abilities. Basic spells—levitation, invisibility—those are common to all of us." Her explanation confirmed what I already suspected: my magic wasn't like theirs at all.
"What about White Witches?" I asked quietly. "What kind of magic do they possess?"
At the mention of them, Cordelia's mouth tightened. A flicker of anger crossed her face.
"Their power surpasses ours," she said, her voice lower now. "They don't control elements. Instead, they can bend objects, imitate voices, and conjure hallucinations."
And there it was—the confirmation I hadn't been ready to hear. I had the magic of a White Witch… trapped in the body of an ordinary one.
Cordelia must have noticed the shift in my expression. She set her coffee down on the end table, her eyes narrowing with recognition.
"You have the magic of a White Witch, don't you?"
Her voice was calm, but the air between us suddenly felt charged. I hesitated, then gave a slow nod. There was no use hiding it—not when they'd find out the moment I was asked to wield elemental magic. I couldn't. I never could.
"What can you do?" she asked, a spark of excitement in her voice. I wasn't sure if that reaction should comfort me… or terrify me.
"I can mimic voices and create hallucinations," I said, trying to sound indifferent. "But… I'm not exactly great at it." I gave a small shrug, but Cordelia's gaze didn't waver. Instead, she smiled—a wide, knowing smile that instantly made my nerves spike.
"Oh my lord!" she breathed. "I have to tell Alice. This might be exactly what we need." Clapping her hands in a burst of energy, she rose and reached for her phone.
She was already dialing before I could say anything else. I watched as she paced the room, speaking into the receiver with growing urgency. She was probably talking to Alice. Telling her everything.
While she talked, I stared down at my hands. It had been a while since I'd tried using my magic—too long. I was rusty, maybe even unstable. Still, I reached for it, let it stir beneath the surface.
Hallucinations came easily to me. I didn't even need enchantments, it was all in my mind. My mother used to say I was a genius for it—said my gift was rare, even dangerous. But I could never control it, not really. Sometimes, I couldn't tell what was real anymore. That's how strong it was—or so she believed.
My eyes landed on a photo of Grandpa, tucked into the edge of a bookshelf—and something inside me clicked. Without thinking, I reached for my magic.
The door creaked open.
And then… he walked in.
Grandpa.
Alive, smiling, just as I pictured him. I turned quickly to Cordelia, needing to know—was she seeing this too? Was the illusion holding?
Her gaze had locked on the doorway, wide and unblinking. She saw him. She truly saw him.
But I couldn't hold it. The strain tugged at me, and within seconds, Grandpa shimmered and faded, like mist breaking apart in the sunlight.
"Sorry," I said, my voice catching. "That was me. I was just… testing my magic, and when I saw Grandpa's photo—"
Before I could finish, Cordelia crossed the space between us and wrapped me in a tight hug. I froze in surprise. Then I heard it—her soft, trembling sobs.
Alarmed, I gently pulled back. "Cordelia? What's wrong?"
She wiped at her eyes, a watery smile on her face. "Nothing's wrong. I'm just… happy. It's been so long since I've seen him. And even if it wasn't real, it felt real enough. Thank you, Sera. Thank you for letting me see him one more time."
Her words sank into me like warmth after a long winter. I never imagined my magic could bring this kind of comfort. For so long, I'd used it as a shield—a trick, a weapon, a means to survive in a world that demanded too much from someone too young and too alone.
I used to think illusion magic was only good for deception. But now, for the first time, I realized it could also be used for something else—something good. Something meaningful.
And that… made me feel truly happy.
"And who told you you're not good at it?" Cordelia said, her voice full of wonder. "It was brilliant, Sera. I almost believed it was real." Her eyes shone with excitement. "We'll work on extending it—help you hold the illusions longer. That's something we can definitely develop."
She pulled me into another hug. And this time, I hugged her back.It felt… good. Safe, even.
"But if no one else here uses this kind of magic," I asked quietly, my voice muffled against her shoulder, "then who's going to teach me?"
Cordelia leaned back, her hands still resting gently on my arms. "It's okay," she said, reassuringly. "We'll figure it out. There are books—old, ancient ones. And we still have the Elders. Someone must know something."I nodded, not fully convinced, but grateful nonetheless.
"For now," she said, stepping back with a smile, "get ready. You're going to meet Tera and Mira. We've got a lot of work ahead—training that will help you defend yourself, with or without illusions."
I took a deep breath and turned toward my room.
Today, everything was about to change.