For how long I stood staring at the spot where the woman disappeared, God alone knew. I was finally brought to my senses by a giggling Naomi, "Aria! What's wrong with you? I hope you are alright,"she said, her expression and voice now subtle.
" I'm perfectly all right, you don't have to worry, " I said, a little coldly much to Naomi's bewilderment as she opened the door into her hallway.
**********
"Hey. Aria." I heard a gentle tap on the window, and so I turned around. Much to my amazement, the woman who had vanished near the oak was grinning at me, suspended eerily in mid air, her narrow hips on a dirty, battered old broom. Lucky stupid girl Naomi was not in the room, I thought. "Open the window. Quick." I obeyed instantly, feeling more and more wild, weird and, well, weirdly enough,magical, not royal. She stepped into the room, dusted her travel cloak and sat down opposite to me on Naomi's bed.
"Well, we could do with some privacy," the woman said, and with these words she sent a pink beam of light from her fingertips to the centre of the ceiling, which travelled all through the walls like an X-ray beam. She seemed to have intruder-proofed the room.
"I'd better get to the point, Aria. You are not an ordinary girl. You are not an orphan. You do not belong here."
"I don't quite understand what you mean," I said, surprised at her paradigm shift of accent from slang Yorkshire to typical London sophistication.
" Knew you would ask this question, Aria. But I'm not the person meant to tell you. But I the person whom you have to trust to take you to the place and person meant to tell you all the information necessary."
There was a long pause, I just sat idly; not knowing how to break the silence. It was finally broken by Naomi, who had returned with fish and chips and banged the door.
The woman now rose to leave, and as she left, she said, " Missed ya for long, ya know. And way too much."
" I have a request for ya, babe. Be ready on the orphanage front steps with your luggage. We gotta go."
"Where?", I asked, my heart thumping with excitement.
" On an adventure. Forever," she said. Then she turned, and with a swish of her cloak she vanished into thin air, leaving me bewildered.
YOU ARE READING
The Sire's Sins: Why Bloods Shouldn't Be Mixed
Hayran KurguAria is often called weird: coz she loves things others don't. The colour black, snakes, tattoos, solitude and many more unusual things. Then one day she finds out that she is a witch, lady of four Metal cored wizarding families, owns a horde of fan...
