Star of Success

Chapter 1

I wake up at the sound of the harsh wind hammering on the windows. The strong force almost shattered them if it weren't for my sister, Blaise, who lazily walks to the kitchen and shuts them close. She humps on her way to my room and drops on the bed next to me and pull the covers over her head, after allowing the freezing temperature sneak into my bed, making me shiver. Sighing, I open my phone to check the time and it is already nine in the morning. I huff and turn back to Blaise who's looking at me with her big, doe, brown eyes, grudgingly. I got used to her morning behavior. It was annoying at first but completely understandable. She pulls herself next to me, seeking a morning hug. I wrap my arms around her back and then pull away before she gets too clingy and demands to sleep for the entire day. Shivering, I wrap my robe around my shoulders and enter the kitchen, I stare at the window after turning on the boiler to make myself a cup of coffee. It's pretty windy outside and the dark grey clouds that are floating dangerously in the sky are signaling a storm that is about to arrive. I hear my sister enter and take out a mug from the cabinet. She brings my mug to her side and pours us both coffee. Neither of us speak as we enter the living room. We wrap blankets around us and take our first sip. My sister doesn't usually talk in the morning, but after drinking her coffee, she turns into a chirpy bird that spreads enthusiasm around her audience. She always knows how to brighten up my day, even the darkest clouds wouldn't ruin her mood.
I lie there and let its warmness consume me. A little bit of its bitter flavor replaces the dryness in my mouth and increases my energy to endure the torture I receive throughout the day. My day isn't usually complete if my boss doesn't bicker about the details of my work, ignoring my achievements, and brags about herself in front of every person in the world. However, I don't have to go to work today thanks to the storm, but I still have my chores to do. So, I swing my legs off the couch after finishing my coffee, and pull on a hoodie and leggings and slide into my fuzzy socks. I don't bother tidying my short brown hair, I comb it with my fingers on one side, which did the job.
My obnoxiously annoying boss gave us an order to work from home. This day was an opportunity for me to enjoy my day at home, wrapped up with heavy blankets, sitting in front of the fireplace, and drinking coffee with my sister as we enjoy a movie marathon all day. But when my boss, Dolivo, gets involved, all the fun plans I make evaporate in thin air.
I head to the kitchen and open the fridge, taking out cheese, bread, ham, and five eggs. I open the cupboards and search for the frying pan. I swim through the utensils trying to find it but fail, as if it disappeared into nothingness. But of course, it did. I sigh to myself and snort. I turn around to see my cheeky sister holding the pan in her hand and grinning childishly. I try to take it from her but she hides it behind her back and then makes a 'whoosh' and poses her hands in front of me in a way magicians do after performing a trick, showing me, it magically disappeared. I'm really not in the mood for her games, so I shrug my shoulders and cut the bread and spread cheese on it. Before I put the ham slices, I hear a clang of metal and turn to see the pan on the stove and the crisping sound of melting butter make me stop in my tracks. My sister takes two dramatic steps to the stove and breaks the eggs without touching them by holding her gaze at the levitated eggs in front of her. I raise my eyebrow at her while she returns a shocked look as if not believing my reaction.
"I don't want to get my hands wet with eggs," she says, as if it's the most obvious thing in the world.
She sprinkles some shredded cheese and scrambles the eggs before serving it on the table. I take a spoonful and put it on my sandwich.
"I went to the store yesterday, and I got a few stares," my sister suddenly mumbled.
"What did you do?" I drop my sandwich and stare at Blaise angrily.
She looks at me innocently and gives me a small pout, she creases her eyebrows and plays with her fork.
"I had a fight with the manager for telling me that I'm not allowed to eat grapes in the store...so I told him I will buy them. I mean we used to do that when we used to go shopping with mom and dad, right? And now he said that it's not permitted, so I got a bit mad and blew up the grape section,"
"BLAISE!" I yell.
"I know, I'm sorry, but I don't think they still suspect us," she says lowly.
I sigh and lean back on the chair, now I know why she made me breakfast and performed her little show. I roll my eyes and shake my head in disappointment.
"We swore not to use our magic in public, they already fear us."
It's a lesson I always tell my sister and remind her of our promise. Our ancestors held magical abilities for about two hundred years, and they were passed to each generation. Every child born in the Adhara family receives a different gift when he turns eleven years. Legend says that my great-great-great grandparents struggled to survive in the war, and tried everything they could to keep their four children alive. One night, while the entire family was sleeping, the kids woke up in the middle of the night to find their room shining brightly, as if the sunlight was directed entirely in their room. The kids were looking around the room in awe, it was a sight to glorify; a cool breeze of air flowed around them and raised them in air for a few seconds, then gently placed them on the floor. One of the children, Maurice, fell backwards and clutched the bed for support. He gasped when the hard wood slowly started glowing and turning the old wood into hard, solid, gold. His sister, Elizabeth, ran into her parents' room to wake them. It was a short run since her feet took her in less than a second to them. Once she woke them, it was hard for them to believe what they saw as they entered their children's room:
Maurice was touching everything and turning it into gold and then tapping it again to remove the expensive element as he touched his brother's hand and laughing at his petrified face. The latter, Thomas, jumped away from his brother and flew high in the room till he touched the ceiling. Jefferson, was gasping at the mirror as his face was changing its shape and color.
At that moment, they knew their lives were about to change for the better. They built the mansion that we now live in, all thanks to Maurice, who bought it with his gold. They hid their gifts from the world for a long time and raised a family and they all lived together richly. All their kids grew up with new gifts and passed them down to the next generation. Their happiness, however, didn't last long. Thomas's grandson had made a small scene in the market which drew the whole village's attention. He set fire to a stack of corn with his hands and hell broke loose at the terrifying sight. They demanded their death on the spot. Thomas rushed to his family's house and warned them. The young mothers took their children and fled from the town before anyone noticed their departure. The rest of the men and their wives stood their ground and demanded a fair argument, but none of the villagers wanted to listen. Just before they could defend themselves with their gifts, an unknown stranger sent a large fireball at the house, burning everyone in it.
The house was magically left as it was, except for a triangular sign with a burning flame inside it that is still etched in my living's room floor, which is currently covered with a rug. Everyone was left in shock as they stared at the burning flames that flew directly into the room, swallowing all of my ancestors hungrily. The news of their death was sent to my grandmother and her sisters. They spent the night crying their eyes out, but none of it really mattered. Their families were gone, they were stranded in the middle of nowhere and their children's cries of hunger filled the quiet town. It was stated by one of the grand-children, who was blessed with gifts of wisdom, that the fireball that was sent thrashing into our home was made by a powerful sorcerer and had brought a curse to those who fled.
He warned the mothers that a lifetime of misery will set upon them if they don't separate. That was the curse the evil sorcerer tormented the family with. So, the sisters took their separate ways in life and each continued her life with her children on her own. They kept moving from one town to another and kept their secret away from the rest of the world. We only returned to this mansion about seventy years ago, when my grandfather came to this town and demanded his mansion back. The town only agreed to welcome him and his family back if they were cleared of any source of magic.
He made an excuse that the magic died and we're born normal. Since then, we've been living peacefully. People still give us loathing stares and sometimes drag their kids away from us, as if we're about to tear them apart if they get close. My parents weren't bothered at all whatsoever, instead they found it hilarious, and made us live our lives as normal as possible. They took us to school and we managed to make new friends who weren't pleasant at first, as they called my home, the witches' house. We were quite a happy family, until my parents' sorrowful death three years ago. They died in a car crash, leaving us the responsibility to take care of this house.
All in all, we managed, and now have jobs with a fair salary and food on our table. What more could we ask for?
I shake the thoughts away from my head and stand up to continue my unfinished business that my boss left me.
"We're safe Stella, no one believes in magic anymore," my sister tells me after taking a bite from her sandwich. It may sound relieving to hear, but...it still kills me that after all my family's been through, we're left to ignore their existence. The famous stories we've been proud to know and be part of, are left to fade away from our memories.