Forgotten Magic: An Alchemyst Fanfiction

Chapter 1- My Seventh

Everyone knows that seven is the most magical number. That is why I had to be killed before my seventh birthday.

 I remember the year prior to my intended execution. Dark days they were. It was more than likely that I wouldn’t even make it to my seventh birthday without any external help.

Famines, droughts were enough to ruin one’s chances.

Today, many live with the illusion that they will never die. It is the curse of the twenty-first century. Thinking that they’ll live forever only to be surprised when death is at their door. A-knocking and calling them home. I knew this at the age of six and a half.

My parents knew I was different from when I was only a few weeks old.

I never cried.

I could walk within a couple of months.

Contrary to the people who lived in my time period, I loved to swim. By age four I was constantly in the water and my golden hair was always tangled in the weeds.

Kids my age were still struggling to walk long distances and like their parents, were fearful of the demonic water.

I remember my mother telling me while brushing my hair that I'd have to grow up into a lady one day. I could tell she hoped that day would come sooner rather than later.

I spoke of conversations I had with animals and by five years of age my parents were worried that it would never stop.

At night, a change came over me. Golden light filled the room where my family slept.

My parents spoke of strange scents. My mother always smelled the fresh scent of oranges of which she’d only had once. I myself would never have an orange in this lifetime.

My father would always smell the scent of fresh baked golden cakes that we would sometimes buy for special occasions. I never smelled these scents.

I had vivid dreams that my parents later discovered were events that were to come.

One summer in the heat of August, I dreamed of my sibling drowning in my beloved pond.

I woke up tears streaming down my face and decided with all my four-year-old logic that it was time for my older brother to learn how to swim.

My parents knew of my dream but not of my plans.

That day we went to the pond. The birds were chirping joyously. I gently coaxed my brother into the water. I swam out further ahead laughing at his fear. When I turned back, he was gone. I dove down into the depths, searching for him. I wasn’t afraid of water but I was afraid of the bottom. Here weeds tangled and the results of the witch-hunts were evident. Chains and discarded torture devices lay buried here in the calm depths.

I found my brother and pulled him to the surface. I told him that things would be all right. He didn’t reply. He seemed to look right through me. I pulled him onto the bank with strength I didn’t know I had. I shouted at him to answer me.

I cried when I realized that he had the same blank stare as the diseased people I used to see in the village. I’d lost my brother.

My father found us there. My tears had long dried up.

I gently stroked my brother’s face, telling him to sleep well and I closed his eyes.

My father was angry at me. I didn’t know why. I had done everything I could! But he was also afraid.

He pushed me away from my brother but flew back when he touched me.

A golden light had protected me. A golden light from the heavens.

My father ran away, cradling my brother’s broken frame.

I retreated to the gentle lap of the water where no one would dare follow.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered over and over to the ripples of water I created, “I’m sorry my brother.”

My parents grew worried when the witch hunters came only a few weeks later. The village had not forgotten what I had done. 

They were all afraid for their children. The pond was formally forbidden now, not that people had really ventured towards it before now.

The witch hunters’ knock was the most frightening sound I would ever heard.

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Hey everybody. I hope this wasn't too dark. Please let me know if I should up the rating. Let me know what you think please! Please

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