The Secret of the Maiden (#1 Witch academy)

Chapter 10: Floating feathers and slicing swords

"I don't know if it's real but I want it to be
If there's an omen, I wanna know when
My eyes are open"

The magic - Lola Blanc 

___

Leonardo groaned for the thousandth time, struggling to make sense of their history homework. The facts and logic seemed to mock him, taunting him like the clown at his seventh birthday party.

"What does this even mean?" he asked Runa, his voice filled with frustration. She was sitting so close to him that it was no wonder he couldn't concentrate—her lavender scent surrounded him, and every time she moved, he caught a whiff of her shampoo. It didn't help that his mind kept circling back to her earlier comment about how cute he was. He looked up from his book when she didn't respond.

She was staring absentmindedly out the window at his neighbor mowing the grass, but it was clear her thoughts were elsewhere. She twirled a lock of hair between her fingers, twirling, twirling as if the motion help her think. 

He took the opportunity to observe her. The sunlight streaming in gave her dark hair a soft glow, and her skin appeared even lighter under its harsh light.

"What are you thinking about?" he asked, his voice gentle, like a summer morning.

She blinked, momentarily confused, the haze of her daydream still lingering in her eyes, but she quickly became alert. Her hand paused mid-motion, the lock of hair still entwined in her fingers. The faint blush from the sun was still visible on her pale skin.

She narrowed her eyes. "Do you believe in witches?" she asked skeptically.

He tapped his pen against his chin, considering her question. "Like Wiccan witches?" he replied, raising an eyebrow.

"No, like actual witches—the medieval ones who were burned at the stake." She waited patiently for his answer.

"No, I don't think I believe those women were really witches. Or at least they didn't deserve to die like that," he reasoned, his tone detached. The pen still tapped rhythmically against his chin.

"Hm," was all she said in response. He glanced at her again; she seemed disappointed by his answer. 

He sighed softly, feeling a twinge of regret at her disappointment. He closed his history book and leaned back in his chair, running a hand through his unruly blond hair. The afternoon sunlight streamed through his bedroom window, casting a warm glow across the cluttered desk.

Runa remained quiet, her gaze fixed on the colorful garden of his neighbor. The silence between them grew so deep that he could hear his mother talking in the kitchen.

"Why are you wondering that?" Leonardo asked, concerned, breaking the silence between them. His tone was gentle, curious. She sighed and avoided eye contact, the twisting of her hair starting up again as she drifted back into her daydream.

Finally, her dark eyes met his, her lashes casting a delicate shadow over them. Her expression was thoughtful. "I think I'm a witch. Or my family was."

"Is there a way you can verify it?" he asked, thinking back to a book he'd read the day before.

She pulled an old, leather-bound book from her bag.

"How many books do you have?" he teased, and she glared at him sternly.

"Don't criticize my books," she snapped, opening the ancient tome right on top of their homework. The aged pages of the old book stood in stark contrast to the crisp, white pages of their new history textbook. She tapped on a page about levitation spells. He leaned over her shoulder to read the text.