Dearest Lana

Chapter Two

The cold, biting wind tugged at her skin and played with her hair. The wind, in her mind, had always been such a frustrating thing.
Never allowing nice hair to stay intact and throwing thing anything light enough for it to carry as far as it could. She forgot about gripping strands of her hair to keep them in place and reached for the gold-painted front gate.
Standing hesitantly by the Biryan's front door, the familiar feeling of nervousness washed over Jasmine once again. She knocked, making an effort to make it louder then the first time. Waiting for an answer, she looked around his garden.
Surprisingly, the garden leading from his door to the busy streets was immaculate, with small flowers planted neatly and an impressive apple tree stood tall.
Jasmine wondered if he ever picked the apples, but then proceeded to find the thought ridiculous, as any activity as mundane as apple picking was one she couldn't imagine him ever doing.
Whilst lost in her thoughts, she hadn't noticed the door swung open. Once again, he wasn't there to greet her with a welcome.
"You know, just once it would be nice to have a hello, or at least have someone stood behind the door before I enter." Jasmine grumbled.
"Now, now, excuse me if I have better things to do." Jasmine whirled to the direction of the fireplace, where the Biryan was standing, an amused smirk on his pale face. Jasmine looked down at the floor, embarrassed.
"Pardon me for being rude." She greeted sheepishly. "My, dear, you were certainly raised right. Judging by your manners, you weren't raised here, just like myself."
"No, I was moved here when my town became Arain only." She explained through gritted teeth. The Biryan clapped his hands excitedly.
"Good, good. If you are to succeed here you are going to need anger. Speaking of which, before we start, you are going to need some basic training in the art of magic."
Jasmine shook her heart-shaped head in disbelief.
"You know magic is almost impossible, only doable with the very best. And even they have many restrictions-"
He cut her off with a dismissive wave.
"Yes, I know how magic works. You cannot bring back the dead, create life, change time and use it to destroy. But, my dear, there are still many wonders magic has to offer."
He turned away from her and ran his finger along the spines of old looking books all lined neatly on his book shelf until he paused at one.
It looked exactly the same as the others, except it had gold lettering along its cover, in a language Jasmine was unable to read.
"Perfect. Now, this is a, say, magic for beginners. You know, the dos and don'ts and such." He flicked through the worn pages before he came to one with a folded corner.
"So, it says: magic is not an ability or a special power, it is an art. Everyone is capable, but it's complicated, difficult and will only benefit the truly good."
Jasmine turned to examine the man's expression and wondered how she may have misjudged him. Something told her not to trust him, yet he must be true of heart to preform magic.
"To learn basic skills," he continued,
"you only require a teacher, goodness and a powerful mindset. Magic will take years to master, but beginning to learn can benefit you well."
He finished reading the paragraph, and Jasmine's stomach became unsettled. If done wrong, magic can ruin you.
"I can help you harness the talent you already have, but you have a choice. Let me help you, or don't. Just remember, all magic comes with a price, whether you agree with the terms or not."
Jasmine thought carefully.
Magic will help her win the Test, that's for sure, and maybe even help find her parents. With a nervous and shaky nod, Jasmine offered her hand for him to shake.
"Deal, but, I do have a few conditions."
The Biryan rolled his oddly coloured eyes and sighed. For the first time, Jasmine noticed they were a vivid green, like fresh grass and almost cat like.
He gestured for her to continue.
"One, you must agree to help me find my parents. Two, let me come back in a few days so you can teach me magic. My family is getting suspicious. And three, tell me your name."
The Biryan scoffed. "I will agree to help you, you may return in a few days but, I'm afraid you may not know my name.
Not until I can trust you. Because names hold power and promise."
Jasmine had little time to work out his riddle. Her arm was grabbed quickly and, with an embarrassing yelp, she was dragged into another room.
"It is here in my house where the most power radiates. Why, I cannot tell you. Some say this is where someone lost their soul, and it's still here. Floating around." He explained.
The room was almost bare, with three photos stuck onto the wall. Two were small children and the other was the man with a woman.
She wanted to ask him, but from past experience she was aware not many people were comfortable sharing personal things about themselves.
It was as if now, the human race felt they could trust no one with anything. Not secrets, personal information or even who they care about.
It was fair though, all of those things can be used against you.
"Come back when you can next leave the house. But remember, next week is the Gathering as its there you are most likely to meet your parents."
Once every month, all classes come together to learn information such as respected people's deaths and any threat to our shrouded community.
"Okay, sir. I'll see you in a few days. And open the door this time."
The Biryan was left smiling fondly as the girl ran out the door back into the bitter cold, running back to the house she hated so and the people who she was forced to call her family.