Spellcaster series #1: The Neophyte

The Funeral

HEIDI

Nurse Hilda chatted away as I pried my eyes open. She and I were alone in Wynona's room. I was in Wynona's bed—exactly where I was before the mess happened.

It was half past nine in the morning. Nurse Hilda went on about some kid's parents whom she had to explain to how their daughter broke a collarbone during spellcasting training.

"They don't know how hard we work, you know? Day in, day out. But here, I am at peace because you don't argue back to me," then she paused. "You're awake, aren't ya?"

A weak smile crept on my face, "For the last five minutes."

"Oh, bless you my dear," Nurse Hilda said, her eyes watery. "I shall call the Sages, they would be so thrilled."

She sat me up and handed me a cup of water. I was parched. "How long was I out?"

"A week and a half. We couldn't tell if you'd even wake, to be honest with ya. Mr Embers insists that I stay with you, make sure you're all right. Bless you, you are indeed. No bruises—none of that at all."

"Thank you, Hilda, for nursing me back to health."

She shrugged her thick shoulders, "To tell you the truth, love, I only did as instructed. Mr White did most of the deep healing—says you have been through much. You were pale and almost lifeless when they brought you in."

Three raps at the door—the Sages had arrived.

"How are you feeling?" Wynona asked, her violet eyes round and worried.

"She's fine, she just needs to exercise her legs. Do bring her out for some fresh air," Nurse Hilda said before leaving the room.

Jesse and Wynona helped me up and put on my shoes for me. Wynona linked arms and we made our way to the Gardens.

"Is my hair okay?" I asked, suddenly becoming self-conscious the moment we stepped outside.

"You look great, Heidi," Wynona smiled. Jesse walked beside us.

The past few days had been a blur. All I remembered was chaos at the Lucky Orphan orphanage...

...and Vicky. My heart sank and I felt my eyes water.

"Tell us if you're hurting," Jesse said as we sat ourselves on a bench.

"I'm fine," I choked. Wynona eyed me warily. I looked up and caught her gaze, "Where's Lord Voltaire? Is he okay?"

"Vampires heal rapidly," she replied. "He is rebuilding the Lair with the help of Tristan and some other Spellcasters."

"Now that you are up and about," Jesse spoke, his ocean-blue eyes deep and calm, "they will be preparing for Vicky's funeral. It will be held tonight."

I felt Wynona's hand pat my shoulder. "I'll be okay. I want to say goodbye to her one last time."

~

I stepped out of the shower but it wasn't enough to scrub off the emptiness.

After my grandma passed, Vicky took me in like I was her sister. Like I was family. Now that she was gone, I had nothing. I belonged to no one.

I borrowed Wynona's blow dryer and dried my hair. I curled it—since I had time—and put on my long black dress. It belonged to my mother. I put on a pair if Wynona's heels that she lent me and—

—I stopped. I took them off and slipped out of my dress. I sat on the bed and shut my eyes. I realigned my energies to calm myself. To feel better, I needed to be myself. Vicky wouldn't care about what dress I wore. She raised me to kick evil butts.