Coveted [New/Revised Version]

THE UGLY TRUTH

      Iris' brain pounded against her skull while the world blurrily came into focus. An icy shudder trickled up her spine as she glanced around nervously. Her eyelids still felt heavy but she continued to squint at her surroundings. The first thing to come into view was a table a good distance from her cluttered with books, papers, vials, herbs and a variety of knives. Unlit candles were dispersed everywhere around the gray, barren room. It had a wintry atmosphere that caused goose flesh to rise on her exposed skin. Panicking, she looked down and found she wore a tasteful dress that she didn't recognize as her own.

At least I'm not naked.

Having established that, she tried to move only to find iron manacles weighed down her arms heavily. Fine then. She thought about wanting the shackles to unlock, disappear, or melt away. After that failed, she started actually chanting spells. She muttered a series of them without anything happening.

Iris yelled in frustration, thrashing in her restraints but they proved to be sturdy. Coming to her senses, she slumped back against the wall. She blew her hair out of her face to examine the binds. There were knotty, crisscrossing patterns deeply carved into the long, silvery chains attached to the wall. Sigils she couldn't even begin to comprehend were etched all around the cuffs at her wrists.

Panic surged through her blood when she became conscious of how little she really knew about witchcraft aside from using her active powers. She was clueless when it came to rituals and potions. That was where Sue, Chantelle, Aunt Lena, and Penelope came in. They were the super witches when it came to the actual Craft. She was good at being offensive.

What was that you were saying about history not repeating itself because of magic dependency?

Iris shook her head to clear the ugly thought away. This wasn't the end. She shut her eyes, concentrating on calling forth a vision. Try as she may, Iris couldn't access her gift of clairvoyance. Come to think of it, she couldn't feel anyone's emotions.

That didn't make sense. Regardless of how alone she was, someone's feelings always plagued her. If she couldn't cast spells, see, or feel, then she was helpless! Her chest heaved while she fell further to pieces. Small wisps of smoke came rolling out of her mouth.

Iris' eyes snapped up at the creak of a door then the rustling of fabric and clunking of heels against wood. She wanted to lunge at the female coming down the stairs toward her. With a new sense of purpose, she rose to her bare feet. Her hands balled up into angry fists and she narrowed her eyes at Lisa descending the last step. Iris was taken aback at first. Lisa looked completely different, no longer a teenage girl.

Her facial features were more pronounced and her hair draped over one of her shoulders in a mass of flawless curls. She took a careful step and the dazzling floor-length dress she wore swished. It was black satin with long, lacy sleeves and clung to her body up until it got to her knees. Then it fanned out a bit.

"Why so dressed up?" Iris hissed. "Is there a costume party later?"

"You're awake." Lisa smiled sweetly. "And charming as ever."

"Yeah, well chains do that to a girl."

"I'm sure."

"What are you doing?" Iris asked when Lisa opened the ancient volume she hadn't noticed before. The small design of a leafless green and silver branchy tree in the center told her it was her family grimoire. She didn't answer. Instead, she went on leafing through the pages before running a long nail over the occasional lines. "I thought you were my friend."