Spellweavers

Chapter Three

Samuel

Océane watches me carefully, not moving from her spot next to the door, ready to run at the first sign of trouble. Her blue eyes are wide and full of caution, and they match her blue hair perfectly. "Who are you, and how did you get into my apartment?" Her voice is calm and steady, clearly trying to give the impression that she is in charge of the situation.

"I'm Samuel Foster," I respond, holding out my hand. She simply looks down at my hand before turning her attention back to my face. I awkwardly take my hand back before adding, "But most people just call me Sam." She doesn't say a word, just continues staring at me, causing me to shift uncomfortably. I hadn't planned on our meeting being this awkward. Then again, it probably would have helped if I hadn't ambushed her in her own apartment, but this wasn't a conversation that we could have in public. "Can we sit down to finish this conversation?" I ask, gesturing to the couch behind me.

"I'd prefer to stay where I'm at," She says cooly. She removes her hand from its place on the doorknob, however. She stands straight, her arms crossed and her eyes locked on mine. Her blue eyes remind me of the waves of an ocean, so fitting for her name.

"Okay, Océane." I open my mouth to continue when she cuts me off.

"How do you know my name?" She asks skeptically, raising an eyebrow.

"If you would let me continue I could answer all of you questions," I respond calmly. I turn and plop down on her couch before continuing. "Now, this is all going to sound a little crazy, so just bear with me. I am here as a member of the Spellweaver Project," I start. "The Spellweaver Project is a government funded facility, meant to integrate magic into society-"

I am interrupted by a laugh.

"What do you find so funny about that?" I question.

"You expect me to believe that there is a project run by the government, and that, better yet, there is such a thing as magic," She laughed. "And even if I were to humor you and believe this, I find it hard to believe that I am important enough to this project that you would break into my apartment to drag me to this magical project of yours."

I smirk. "So you don't believe in magic?"

"Last I checked I'm not a child, so no."

I look around the room. I was hoping to see some candles, but she doesn't seem to have any. That would have been way more fun in proving my point. Instead, I look right into her eyes, a mischievous grin on my face. "Ignis," I whisper. As soon as the words leave my lips, an orange flame floats over my palm, glowing brightly. "Are you sure you don't believe in magic?" I chuckle. Her eyes are wide as she steps back, her back now pressed against the door.

"Please put that out," She whispers, a hint of fear in her voice. Shit. I should have known better than to do that. Three years of monitoring her, and you think I would have remembered. Why the hell did they assign someone who had mastered fire to someone with a horrible fear of fire? But I had to prove it to her, even if it meant scaring her a little. I immediately flicked my hand, dismissing the flame.

"I'm sorry," I say, "But you weren't going to believe me otherwise."

She takes a few seconds to compose herself before stepping forward. This time she joins me in the living room, sitting on the opposite side of the couch, clearly trying to keep as much distance between us as she can.

"Océane, I know this is a lot to process, but I'm here to offer you a chance to join the Spellweaver Project."

"But from what I understand, that requires having these... magical powers," She says skeptically.

"I wouldn't be here if we weren't confident that you have them."

"But wouldn't I know if I did?"

"Not necessarily. Some people who are more even tempered, like you, never catch on to their abilities. Most people discover these powers during times of emotional distress. You see, there tend to be certain physical characteristics associated with magic. The eyes tend to be one of the biggest signals. Sometimes they are easy to pick out, such as the black irises of a shadow mage, but sometimes than can be a little harder to identify, such as the abnormally bright, blue eyes of a water alium," I say, gesturing to her uniquely bright eyes.

"A few years ago, your doctor noticed some of these physical characteristics in you, and reported the unusual characteristics, which our database picked up on. Around the same time, I had finally finished my training and was old enough to officially work for the project, and I was assigned to your case. It was simple. I was supposed to monitor you, confirm your powers. For a few months, nothing really happened. But then there was the rain that continued for weeks... Any time you experienced sadness, the rain rolled in, only to disappear along with your grief. That's when I knew."

She doesn't look at me, instead focusing on her hands in her lap. She doesn't even say anything. When she doesn't respond after a few brief moments I continue.

"You see, to officially be brought to the facility, you have to be 20 years old, except for in some special cases. So I waited. And now, I'm here," I say bluntly. "But we can't exactly force you to join us. It's your choice. So, Océane, what do you say?"