Twenty.
The number of days it took Lia to regain complete control of her limbs and walk around the house, unaided and unsupervised. It was stressful, utterly draining and everything but pleasant. Lia never imagined that learning to walk again could be so hard. Several times, she thought of quitting, but her aunt was always by her side to cheer her up.
Twenty.
The number of times she has asked her beloved aunt questions about the void in her chest that hasn’t gone away. She feels so hollow, like an empty shell, a musk without substance. She feels like she is no longer whole anymore. And the fact that her aunt has done nothing but avoid the subject matter only worsens things. At first, she felt it was because she didn’t want to hamper her recovery process, but now, she does not know what to think anymore.
Twenty.
The number of days left before school starts. Her ‘sudden’ illness would have affected her education a lot, but she had the foresight to also register for lessons online. Thus, even though she was unable to move, she was still able to get the job done. It doesn’t help that she has zero friends- there’s no one who’d be bothered enough to show up at her doorstep if she missed school. Except for the principal, of course. He’ll be worried, not for her, but her aunt’s money- donations are hard to come by these days, especially for an average school like Manville High.
Besides, even if they wanted to pay her a visit, who in their right minds would go to a secluded place in the middle of nowhere?
Witches and most members of the supernatural realm love nature and try as much as possible to be close to it. And Sandara Harrison is no exception. With a mansion situated in the heart of Manville Woods, one of the so-called ‘forbidden forests’ in the American city of New York, the Jade Witch is certainly living up to her reputation.
A hapless mortal would only be able to see a gated community for the rich. However, a supernatural can see the forest for what it truly is, only that the true location of the house remains obscured. This is due to powerful cloaking spells and guards which have been placed on the house by powerful witches and are renewed from time to time.
Twenty.
The number of times she has decided to confront her aunt. As far as she is concerned, she has had enough of coddling and being fawned over. Sure, it feels nice, exciting even, to have one of the most powerful witches in the world babysit you while you recover from a debilitating illness that almost turned fatal, but with time, it gets old. And quite suffocating. Her worsening aptitude for magic makes it even more frustrating.
Lia feels like she has let down her family. Her mother is one of the most powerful witches to ever exist in several centuries, according to the history books she reads from time to time. Her aunt may be eccentric and a bit too strict, but that does not make her any less of a talented witch than she actually is. Lia has an inkling that her aunt is even more powerful than her mother, although she hides it and pretends to be the weaker sister.
Growing up, Lia always knew that her family was different. She was brought up in the strictest of ways and made to understand that she had a duty to the entire kingdom of witches, just like her mother and aunt. She understands the need for success and survival at the end of the day. That is why she never really complained about her mother’s absence from her life- one cannot have the best of both worlds.
Sandara once promised her she would never lie to her, so why is she doing this? Why isn’t she being truthful about everything?
Why do I feel like she’s hiding something from me?
“Lia dear, could you pass me the salt?”
“Huh?”
Lia feels a gust of wind on her face. Startled, she looks at her aunt for an explanation. What just happened?
“I apologize if that scared you, dear. I’ve been asking you to pass the salt for the past five minutes, and I couldn’t wait any longer, or the sauce would turn out poorly.”
“Oh, oh. That’s um- that’s fine. It isn’t your fault.”
Sandara washes her hands and uses a disposable napkin to wipe off the water. Unlike before, she takes short, purposeful steps to her niece. Lia does not realize how small her aunt’s legs are until she sees her actually walk, without an ounce of magic powering her movement. Her aunt’s legs are petite, just like her own.
While Lia is busy comparing the similarities in their legs, Sandara places a hand on her right shoulder.
“You seem rather out of sorts today. Are you alright?”
“I’m f-fine.” Lia’s stutter betrays her. She clears her throat and tries to look confident, though she doubts that her aunt will buy it. Sandara Harrison has always been a highly perceptive witch.
“I am alright, dear aunt. No need to be worried.”
I’m the one who should be worried, aunt. You apologized to me more than once, something you rarely ever do.
Sandara’s eyebrows crease in concern and Lia inwardly rolls her eyes again. Ever since her near-death encounter, her aunt has been showering her with a lot more concern than usual, as if she is a piece of fine china. She adopts a more relaxed pose as she braces herself for another lecture on the need to take things easy.
Without discovering a solution to the hollowness in her chest, she doubts if things will ever be easy for her.
However, her aunt surprises her by not saying another word. She simply gives her a long look, one that shows that the discussion isn’t over, and returns to her cooking.