Sitting at the desk, the candle just making an island of light for her. Taking the quill and dipping it in the ink, she started to write in the diary. It was the one thing that Gigia (Paternal Grandmother) gave her that mother knew nothing of. Some how Gigia knew she would be an outsider at the school.
It was old looking, leather bound but with a small lock that was magically guarded. A password was needed to unlock it. Looking around she made sure that my candlelight was not bothering the other girl in the room. Sitting and focusing on how she found out about all this, she began to write.

I never knew. Looking back now, I realize just how naive I was. How I had missed the signs and subtle hints to the truth? I still don’t understand. When I was young (younger than I am now anyway) my parents never really talked about their past. They never told me stories of when they were young, of things that would seem normal to know.
I never knew what my Grandparents did for a living. Never even went there to visit; they always came to us. Now, looking back, I can see the disdain and concern in their faces. Whenever one of them tried to tell the stories of their, or even my parents youth, one of my parents would find a way to redirect the conversation.

Selina paused for a moment to gather her thoughts, being extra careful as she dipped her quill back into the inkbottle.
“I do not want to be punished for staining the pillowcases or sheets.” thought Selina.
The dark haired girl had heard rumors of some of the punishments. She did not want to be left in the hands of Caine! That man scared the gypsy girl greatly! The girls in her house whispered that the last girl He got to punish. She had to spend 2 weeks in the Hospital wing, to this day the girl would not speak of what was done to her!
Slowly bringing the quill back to her book, Selina continued her writing.

It wasn’t until the strange letter arrived for me that the truth finally came out. I can still see the look of horror on my Mothers face when it arrived. And I can remember the angry conversation they had before I was allowed to even touch the thing. You would never think something as simple as a letter would cause such issues, but it did.
When they came into my room, late that night, the look on their faces frightened me more than any thing I remember, previous. Since then I have learned of things much, much scarier.
As my Mother sat on the edge of my bed, her hands shaking and eyes red from tears, my Father paced the length of my room.

“We must talk, we had hoped that this day would never come…but I guess destiny has other things in store for you.” My mother said.
“You need to understand a few things first. We never wanted to lie to you. We just thought it would better and easier for you not to know.”

“Know what??” My fearful voice raised above the somber tone my parents were speaking in. I was beginning to get really worried now. “Was I dying? Were my parents some kind of outlaws and the law had finally caught up to them? Or worse yet…was I adopted?” These thoughts ran through my mind, as my Mother collected her thoughts on how to tell me the news. Then my Father voice boomed out from across the room.

“Just listen to your Mother…this is hard enough for her without you interrupting.” Mother just nodded to him then continued on as if I had not said anything.

“Your Grandparents warned us that this day may come. They had wanted us to raise you in the tradition of our families. But, we thought that you would fair better in this world being ‘normal’, just like everyone else. I guess they were right.” She paused again for a moment.

“At the very least we should have told you who we are, who you are.
We are Gypsies.” Images flooded my mind, and almost in answer to them, Mother continued.
“Yes, the card reading, fortune telling, tambourine playing kind. Just like the ones you see from time to time in the town's square or just outside the city. The brightly covered wagons, the men playing music as the women dance and tease people for coins. We, your Father and I, grew up traveling from place to place. Living on what others would give us, or what we could earn, con or steal. We never had a home or the security of knowing our next meal was on the table.” The tears were steaming down her face as she spoke now. Clearly this was not a pleasant time for them.

“We just didn’t want that for you. We wanted you to learn a trade, to have friends, to be a normal child.” Her voice cracked and tears continued to run down her cheeks.

I did not understand, being a Gypsy could not have been that bad I thought out loud.

“Alright, so your parents are Gypsy, what does that have to do with the letter? Why it is such a big deal now?” I looked at both of them, almost demanding that they explain all this. My Father took over from here, his voice was deep with anger and concern.

“It seems that you have, or at the very least, are going to inherit some of the talents of the Gypsy. The letter is called a “bone letter”, it is only delivered to those that have some magical ability, those that are chosen to give up their lives for the “greater good”. It is an invitation to a special school. One that will teach you how to use and control your magic.” He looked at the pale parchment of the scroll as if to cause it to burst into flames with his eyes.

I turned my head back and forth from my Mother then to my Father.

“Wait…your telling me that I am or at least am going to be a … A.” My voice stammered for a moment. As what he was saying hit home.

“Witch?” Your saying that you and Mom have some kind of ‘powers’? Why now? Why after all this time dump this on me? What if I don’t want to go? Can we make them go away? Just ignore them and they won’t happen??” None of this made any sense to me.

Walking slowly to me my Father sat next to my Mother on the bed. He had never been a truly affectionate man, so when he reached for me and pulled me to him, in my heart I knew the news was not going to be good. As he started to speak, the light from my oil lamp flickered and almost seems to dim. The shadows cast by the lowered light made my Father look more somber then I have ever seen him before.

“You do not understand, my daughter.”
He never called me that before, Selina, girl, young lady. Any of those.. But to call me “my daughter” really drove home that something was very very wrong!
“Your Mother and I have heard rumors, stories of other girls and boys from the neighboring villages being taken and not returning.” His voice broke as the last word came out in almost a whisper.
“Ever.” He looked me in the eyes now.

“The parents refuse to speak about it.. almost as if the child was dead. Also it does not matter if the child was from a well off family or a poor one. I don’t think this is something we can ignore. The bloodline is there and your abilities will come if we want them or not.” He looked over to Mother as if to see if she was still willing to do this.

“After a long talk with your Mom, we have decided it is best for you to learn to control them, at least that way there will be no accidents.” He reached over and took my face gently into his hands.

“We can not hide from this, that coach.” Again his voice broke, he was scared.

“It came down the road toward us, almost ghost like, your Mother and I ran into a shop, but it just stopped outside waiting. That giant dog growling and snapping at anyone who came near.” As he recounted the story, Mother just shook in fear.

“Finely I walked out to see what he wanted.” The way Father said he, told me something was different about the couch driver.
“His hand, if you could call it that, held the scroll out to me. I did not want to go near him, but it felt as if a will not my own fell on me. My mind screamed no, as my body moved step by step closer to that couch. Finely I took the scroll, and his bone hand let go. And before I could move he was whipping the horses into action. Riding down the street, not caring if the people could get out of the way in time.” Father's head shook lightly.

“I’m sorry Selina, you have to go. And we can only hope that you will not be numbered among those that have never returned.” With that he handed me the scroll.

My hands were shaking so badly that I could barely open it. I had been partially hoping that this was all some bad dream but with the way my parents were acting, told me that was not the case. Looking over the scroll cover I saw my name written in a script that could only be described as beautiful, I knew it was very real.

I must have read that scroll 100 times before noon the next day. My maternal grandma was coming over that day. I didn’t know if I should be excited to learn more or scared. It turns out that a lot of my family has some minor abilities or powers.
My Grandfather is blessed in the art of charm; he can get people to give more than they may have wanted. Grandma is skilled in the arts of divination. She can read both cards and tea leaves. My Aunt can create potions, Uncle can dispel curses and the list goes on.
As she told me the stories, the pride evident on her face, she presented me with a wooden box.

“This was your Great-Great Grandmothers. She was the only person in the family to be invited to serve, before you. I have kept it all these years hoping someone would need it.” Her eyes were filled with tears of joy.

“We have worried that the powers had left our family, that our bloodline had thinned to much. Now we know they have not. I hope it works for you.” Opening it she pulled a thin wooden stick looking thing from the highly polished box. Handing it to me she smiled.

“This is a wand, every wand is different. I have been told that, a true wand chooses the wielder, not the other way around. Go on give it a swish.”

Looking at my Mother, a frown on her face she reluctantly nodded. Taking the wand into my (then) small hand, I instantly felt the power. To this day it is hard to describe, it was like being held by a loving strong woman, someone you loved and who loved you just as much.
Raising the wand I looked about the room. Not knowing what would happen I tentatively pointed at a vase of flowers. 'Swishing' it like I was told the vase was suddenly surrounded by a green field, it pulsed and had a glow about it that was strange and unique. Smiling I looked at my Mom and Grandma. Mom seemed both upset and pleased at the same time, Grandma, on the other hand was beaming with pride.
“Yes, it looks as if the wand likes you, this is good. It is my gift to you. Keep it safe and use it well. And remember, you will be following in the footsteps of many of your ancestors.”

Each day after the tension in the house was so thick you could almost cut it with a knife. My Father barely looked at me; my Mother burst into tears whenever she did. It was almost as if they expected me to start casting spells that very day. Or maybe they were afraid that I was going to be one of the children that never returned.

As the day of my departure grew nearer my Pappous and Gigia (Paternal Grandparents) would find ways of getting me out of the house. They could see how upset my Parents were and the effect it was having on me. They would say they just wanted to spend time with me, or they needed my help with some mundane thing or other.
In truth, they were getting me ready for my future. They read over the list of items I would need, via the scroll, and money from my Mother. I was greatly surprised at the money. Gold, Silver and Copper coins, each one was stamped with a different relief then our normal coins.

She paused in her writing again, looking to the sky outside. Judging from the amount of moonlight coming in, there was only about another hour before she had to stop and sleep. Falling asleep in class was not a good thing.


After some searching we found Diagon Alley, (once we learned that I needed the letter…..Yeah, kind of makes sense now doesn’t it???). It was a wondrous and frightening place. As we walked down the cobbled streets, the shadows seemed larger here than at home, casting a gray pallor over everything, we looked on in wonder at the various items. You could buy everything from apples (magical I assumed) to Zebra hoof (again magical I am assuming) and everything in between.

One of the stores caught my eye, and as I held tightly to Pappous’s hand we entered. The outside of the store seemed much smaller than the interior would lead one to believe. Here hanging on the walls and standing (yes on their own) was some of the most amazing clothing I had ever seen. It was VERY different than what I was used to seeing, but at the same time seemed comfortable. As I reached my hand out to touch the sleeve of a lovely green gown, “That is not ‘vat you are ‘ere for now is it?” asked a voice from seemingly nowhere. Looking around we were able to find the person the voice belonged to.

She was not beautiful per say, but stunning would be more the right description. Her long black hair framed an almost pale white face. Her hands were long and thin, with nails longer than most would ever be able to function with. Her body was slim, but shapely, curves in all the right places. But, I think it was her eyes that were most amazing. They were the same greenish hazel as mine, but hers seemed to look beyond you. Like she was seeing something that only she could see. “Aye zee you are one of the chosen. Yes? Aye am Madam Nomikos”. Her accent was the same as my Gigia, stronger but the same.

“Yes, Madam Nomikos. I got the letter here…do you need to see it?”

“Yes, intuitive you are. That vill be good. Do not let the others bother you child, ve Gypsy are a hearty lot, don’t let ‘em tell you otherwise. Come, now let’s get you settled then.” As she spoke her large blood red lips seemed to move more than they should. Almost like she were having two conversations at the same time, one silent the other out loud with me.

Quickly she moved about the store, grabbing dresses and coats pants shirts, shoes and sleeping gowns. As she moved around the store, occasionally she would say, “Scuse me, but aye think you vould fit nicely. Come let zee child try you on.” I stood dump founded as the clothes moved around by them selves. Some of the longer, what I would call ball gowns, were dancing with the finest of mens wear. The sleeping gowns were doing just that, sleeping. I was stunned to say the least. As we moved through the store my Pappous would speak with Madame Nomikos in our home language, smiling she would laugh and wink at me. “Ere, child, since this is your first I will let you do. “ I must have had a puzzled look on my face, she laughed. “Aye could just ‘zap’ em on you if you ver prefer.”

“No,NO that is fine, I will do.” Taking the clothes and entering into the small dusty room I was direct to. From the looks of it, it was not often used, the dust was thick and the mirror was broken. Starting with the dresses, I tried them all on. Finding 2 that fit me just right I put them aside. Moving through the clothes, those that I didn’t choose almost seemed to groan.

Once finished, I returned to Pappous with the chosen few items. Walking to the counter, he paid Madame Nomikos and thanked her for the help. “Aye’m sure aye vill see you agin.” She said louder than I thought needed. “Don’t let them frighten you. Remember, you are Gypsy, and none shall forget that when you are done.” She whispered as she handed me the bags.
“Thank you.” I whispered back.

Once we left Madame Nomikos’s shop we quickly found Gigia. She had gone to the bookstore, caldron shop and various others. Handing the packages to Pappous, she smiled at me. “It is a strange and wondrous journey you shall be taking Agapi,” her pet name for me. Slowly we made our way through the busy streets, passing others going in and out of the same shops as we. At the end of the day, we made our way back to our starting point, we managed to get all the things I would need, uniform, books, cauldron, and the various other items. It was amazing, all these people were Witches, Warlocks or what ever. Each and every one was Magical in some way. If they were not then the wears they hawked were. There we many things that I would have loved to have gotten, but as some kind of bizarre punishment to the Wizard world my Parents would only give me the bare minimum needed to get by. There was no extra spent on luxuries, or nice things. There was only what I absolutely needed and NOTHING more. Now don’t get me wrong, we were not rich by any means, but we were comfortable in life. It would not have killed them to give me something to spend on just me, something to feel good about. My Dad was firm on this. “I will not give my hard earned monies to “them”…if they want it they can get a real job and earn it themselves, just as I did.” He would go on saying.

I don’t know if I was excited to start this new journey, or scared out of my mind. I do know that part of me just wanted out of the house now. The looks and tears were killing me. When the carriage pulled up, and the (I think it was a man) got out to get my things, I almost ran screaming. The Huge dog growling at everything that moved and drooling on anything that didn’t. Standing still as death, I waited until everything was loaded. I say everything, but in reality it was 1 suitcase and the storage locker they insisted on. “Come on, we don’t got all day. Get in if yer going, stay if yer not.” The man barked. Quickly giving Mom a kiss and Dad a brief hug I got in. My journey had begun…………..

Looking up from the Journal, Selina looked at the Moonlight, realizing just how late it had gotten. Quickly she put her journal back into it’s hiding spot, placed the ink and quill away and climbed into bed.

 Create your own free wiki!Support CommunityPublic, not yet premium Privacy Policy RSS