The Arcanum Manor

12: Better Tomorrows

It was hard to shake off the feeling of failure from the previous class. Sure, I was able to cast something, but first of all, I fainted. Second, I had believed magic had a special place in the normal world. Third, I had been so, so, so naïve.

Alchemy class felt like a fever dream. Everyone was happy, making little formulas of potions. Not that it would work on anything, but just to get a hold on the new skill. Just a normal first day. The first day of four years of high school.

"Kill me," I groaned quietly to myself and lay my heavy head on the potion table to cool my hot head. Hot from overthinking.

Patrick paid me no mind and was in his element, tossing ingredients into the cauldron. This was his domain, his dream. Good for him; I needed a break.

The classroom was filled with the sharp, tangy smell of various potions and ingredients, reminding me of a chemistry lab. It was similar to the chemistry classes we had together in elementary school.

This was partly the reason I agreed to be with him as a partner in the class. To avoid doing anything and to avoid the rest of my friends. My mind refused any conversation, processing everything.

I didn't even know what I'd been thinking. I might have been imagining being a very powerful witch like my mom and living a bright, happy life waving magic like nothing and doing... What did I even want to do? Some magical job, but even with reading so many fantasy stories, I had no answer for that. Now I was thinking about becoming a teacher here one day. Just maybe, because I refused to come back to ordinary world.

And not back to my father and his new wife Yolanda in their mansion and fake smile and... Did my father know about magic? Perhaps not, because first, he had never mentioned that. Second, I bet my mom had to make him forget or not to mention it in a first place. Third... Yolanda was almost like a bad witch.

My careless father...

Shut up, head.

When I hugged myself and groaned again, Patrick halted in his tracks and left his work to caress my back.

I looked up and his eyes lightened with a smile. "What's wrong? You look like you've been through the wringer."

I dragged myself to the bench and sat down, trying to muster a smile. "Hey, Patrick," I said, my voice lacking enthusiasm.

"Come here," he gestured and offered a hug.

I sighed, still in my position, avoiding his gaze. "It's nothing, really. Just... having a hard time with all the things today."

Let's hope Patrick thought only about the fainting and having trouble to wield magic and wouldn't ask more questions.

He frowned, sitting down beside me. "Elvira, you're one of the most determined people I know. You'll figure it out."

I wasn't ready to tell him everything, given the fact my magical talisman should be a secret. I might be confused, but I believed Natasha in this. Not everything seemed right here.

Exhaling to ease the tension in my body, I opened my mouth, but he didn't wait for my response, "Magic is just like any other skill—it's fixable. You just need practice and patience."

His words were kind, but they couldn't erase the heavy truth I had just learned in the previous class. "Not everything is fixable, Patrick."

"You. Can. Fix. It. I believe in you."

Raising from the table on my elbows, I gave him a look of disbelief.

"You're basically my sister. Of course, I believe in you," he said and leaned closer.