Loving Ashlynn (#Wattys2016)

Chapter 44 - Furari Magicae (Samson Conrad POV) Pt. 5

A/n: Sorry just a repost for some who cannot see this chapter. However I will add something to the end for those that have already read this to think about. ##SPOILER##

Chapter 44 – Furari Magicae (Samson Conrad POV) Pt. 5

Life had a way of keeping balance.

Grandma Mary said that nature, the spirits, Gods, they all liked things to be equal. Making sure there was not too much bad in the world.

There was always a setback to an advantage.

Sometimes people would try to go around the rules. Making their own that suit them, assuming they had beaten the Game Master of life.

"Magic, the spirits and Gods Samson, they are always two steps ahead. If you go right, when you're meant to go straight, even if you try to hide your intentions; there will be a bump in the road. There will be a limitation."

For being werejaguars I never quite could wrap my mind around my parents unwillingness to have us dabbling in magic. We weren't Fae's but somewhere in our family there had been one. It was in our genetic makeup. However our parents, even my aunts and uncles, we left the magic to grandma Mary.

"With White Magic comes Black Magic."

I heard repeatedly so I had to eventually ask why it was okay for Grandma Mary? She used magic... right? Why was she allowed to?

"Your grandmother asks permission, she nurtures nature. If she takes energy from a tree, she will carry five bucket's of water from inside the house to water and care for it."

"She is not allowed to use it by our standards. She is granted permission from nature." It was hard to wrap my mind around a tree or flower giving my grandmother permission to use its energy.

In our small Den, if someone for instance, like Imogen showed even a hint of being magically gifted, they were immediately sent to grandma Mary. Though I think with Imogen she had just wanted to be safe and not sorry. Her mother was gone, she was a part of the Den, and she did not want to ruin or do anything to hurt the people she had left in her life.

Yet outside of her, I'm not sure I knew anyone else that sought out my grandmother guidance. Maybe there was more but I just hadn't been told or paid attention.

It's truly the latter I learn.

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.

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After dads' impromptu after midnight meeting where he revealed Fatima's history – or minor history I should say – she retreated away. Although, I think this time it was to prevent the looks that my siblings were giving her. I doubt the even realized that they were doing it.

Still, for two days, she went to school, came home, napped, ate alone in her room and studied alone.

"Seriously, can you not look at her like that?" I finally just said to Harleigh when we were in the kitchen together and Fatima came down.

Heated some water before retreating back to her space.

"I'm not looking at her-" I lift a brow at Harleigh.

Scoffing, I shake my head, "I call total B.S."

"You've had how long to process what dad said?" she responds though it's with a playful undertone.

Nodding I exhale, "I'm saying this just as – not to rub it in your face or hurt you Harleigh," I preface my comment. "Don't you hate when people that don't know you're adopted learn you are and then look at you as though you are either a; somehow defective, or b; need their pity?" I keep all meanness from my tone when asking.