BlackMoon Beginnings - By Kaitlyn Hoyt Page 0,20

correct, you are going to be able to do many other things as well. You’re going to be very powerful.”

I stare at her in disbelief. Magic doesn’t exist. It is not possible. “I think you have me mistaken for someone else. It can’t be me.” I stand up and am about to leave, but I’m overcome with dizziness again. I sway, but Colton stands up and grabs my arms to steady me. When the room stops spinning, but does not stop swaying, I decide that sitting is probably the best option for me right now.

“It’s you, Ryanne. I know it. We also believe that you have been causing the recent weather fluctuations.” The weather? I can’t control…

Calm down. Your emotions are affecting the weather. I pick up the pendent hanging from my neck and study it, confused. Was it all real?

“Claire, maybe you should start from the beginning,” says the man standing in the doorway.

“You learned about the Salem witch trials in school, right?” I nod, “Well, a long time ago, many people performed witchcraft and wizardry, some of these were real and others were faking. We are descended from a long line of magicians. Not the kind that you are thinking of. We don’t pull rabbits out of hats and perform parlor tricks. We are commonly referred to as Mage. However, that is an ancient name.

“Mages have been around forever. We aren’t sure when we came into existence or even how. The pyramids of Egypt? Made by mages. Stonehenge? Mages. Maoi statues on Easter Island? Mages. We have supernatural abilities. One of yours is reading minds. I have a heightened sense of intuition. David, Colton’s brother, is telekinetic. Colton hasn’t come into his power yet. Mages get their gifts at different stages and different ages. Usually it is a gradual change. Most get their gifts around the age of eighteen, but some don’t show up until the mid-twenties.”

“So, you’re telling me that I can affect the weather and read minds. Do you know how crazy that sounds?”

“When you were almost run over by the car, you told us that you thought that you were lifted by the wind. You were right. The wind did assist you then. You needed help, so your magic took over and got you out of a dangerous situation. Think of another time recently when you were upset or angry. Was it raining or storming?”

I think back to when I was sitting under the gazebo and thinking about mom. As I recall, it was raining. Couldn’t that be just a coincidence? It was always raining when I was upset lately.

How cliché.

“So you’re telling me that whenever I’m upset, I have to worry about flooding the whole town?”

Everyone chuckles at me. David is the only one to respond, “You’ll learn how to control it. We’ll help you.”

Claire clears her throat, “There’s more.” She pauses. I think the pause is just for dramatic effect. If I ever deliver very important news, long pauses always increase the importance. “You are an intricate piece to ending the supernatural war.”

Shut the front door. What the heck have I been thrown into? I glance between all three of them, waiting for the laughter to start. They’re joking, right? When nothing happens, I take a deep breath and decide to play along.

“A war?”

She continues, “Long ago, it was prophesized that a girl, born into a non-mage family, would be gifted with magical abilities that surpassed all mage’s. When this girl turned eighteen, she would come into her magic. She’d be unlike anything we’ve ever seen before. A beautiful warrior,” she stops talking and smiles at me before continuing. “With her help, the war will be ended. Granted, that is a very condensed and summarized version. The original was written in Latin, but the point is still valid. You are the girl we’ve been looking for, Ryanne.”

“How do you know that I’m that girl? It could be referring to anyone.”

“My intuition tells me that it is you. I knew something was different about you when we talked in my shop. You’re special Ryanne.”

“You think I’m Harry Potter?” I ask her.

Claire smiles at me, but it is David that speaks. “You’re a mage, Ryanne, not a wizard.”

I start violently shaking my head. What they are saying doesn’t make any sense. “It’s not me you are looking for. I’m not a beautiful warrior. Beautiful has never been used to describe me and I’ve had a lot of adjectives used in reference to me. And warrior?

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