Bellum: Magics and the Mortals

Chapter 1.

Chapter 1

        

“Remember a time before the bellum?

When life was simple and flos would bloom?

Regium was strong and mighty,

Sapientia in everyone.

But now the spirits volare from here.

To a place where bellum does not exist.”  I sang as I did my evening chores. I loved this song; it reminded me of a safer time, even though I have never known one. I have always lived in a time of war. It began the day I was born, mother said just mere seconds after my birth. The war had been the most destructive and life-threatening war my people had ever seen in their history. The fighting has continued on for nearly eighteen years, and yet, we have come no where near an ending. People still died every day, and as they died, more teenagers were taken from their homes to fight for this country. And die. It’s been eighteen years, and not a single soul has come back alive.

         When I first learned this song, I was of nine years, and mother had taught it to me during one of our school lessons. I did not go to the town school, she feared that I would not be safe there, so she taught me herself. It had words that, at first, I did not understand. But she had told me that those were not of my language, but of the language of her people, of her past. She said it was important that I know this language. So she used the song as a way to start teaching me the language, and it helped me. She translated it for me, that day. I remember her voice clearly, she was so calm and at ease, as if she were home, truly home, for the first time in years.

“Remember a time before the war?

When life was simple and flowers would bloom?

Royalty was strong and mighty,

Wisdom in everyone.

But now the spirits fly away from here,

To a place where war does not exist.”    Hearing those words at nine, they did not mean much more than hearing the sky was blue. Yet now, I know, the words mean so much more. They mean that there was a time when there was peace between the Magics and the Mortals, and that means there could be peace again. I want there to be peace. I believe I could help make peace between the two kinds, they just have to see reason, yet they have refused to for the past eighteen years for some unknown reason.

         I always sang this entire song in the language of mother’s people, of her past. It was the closest thing I had to knowing of her family, for she told me very minimal. She was always scared that something could happen to me if I knew too much. She told me that I had to very careful who I sang to, for two reasons. One: my voice was abnormally beautiful, no normal Mortal could possess such a voice, and people would notice. Two: Other people, other Mortals, feared the language of mother’s people, of her past. They feared her people’s power.

         “Regina!” My mother screamed my name. It startled me out of my thoughts and caused me to turn and look at her fuming self. It made me turn pale in fear, she was angry. “What are you doing? Singing that song, in that language! Your father will be home any moment, and you know the rules!” There was only one rule my mother was adamant about, and it was that I could never sing, talk in mother’s language, or practice any of mother and I’s lessons when father was home. The standard safety rule we had, was to wait at least ten minutes after he left to start practicing and talking and singing, and to stop all of our lessons twenty minutes before he is due home. It insures that he stays in the dark about all of this, and that he stays safe.

         “I apologize mother. It was a careless and ignorant mistake. I had gotten lost in the song and had simply forgotten to watch the clock. I shall be more carful from now on forward.” I answered with an apologetic look on my face. My mother got an intense look on her face. She was practicing Magic. Magic was forbidden in our town, we lived in a town of Mortals. But there were five of us in this small town. Magics who did not want to leave our friends and homes because of the war, who also wanted to stay out of the war. We all agreed to only practice if there was another Magic with us. I was here, so I figure that mother counts me as the other Magic. Though I could not figure out what it was she was doing. It troubled me tremendously. The war had been getting closer to our town. The Magics were not practicing in hopes to not draw any unwanted attention our way.

         “Mother? What are you doing? You know that we are not to be practicing!” I whisper yelled at her in case someone walked in without knocking. Yet she did not move. She held her ground and continued practicing. But this particular practicing of Magic was nothing like I had ever seen my mother do in my lifetime. She was using a large amount of power; I could feel it. Whatever it was she was doing could kill her. I had to help her. I put my hands on her, and channeled my power to her. She always said I was an exceptionally strong Magic. But right at this moment, I felt worthless. I had no idea how I knew what to do, but suddenly I was running to the kitchen room, grabbing a bucket with cold water, and running back to the gathering room. I then poured the water in a circle around her feet and took hold of her hands.

         “From mother to daughter, and back again. Magic has taken control of her, and Magic will bring her back to me.” I chanted this for what seemed like an endless amount of time, until finally, mother screamed out a blood curdling scream. She fell into my arms and I held her there, happy to have her back to me. I knew that Magic was not always gracious, and sometimes it wanted to take more than you were willing to give it, but it would take that regardless of your wants. And right then, that is what mother had experienced. I tried to cam her down, but she just shook like she had witnessed a murder. All of a sudden she took a step back from me, looked me dead in the eyes, and spoke the four words I had never in my life expected to hear.

         “Your father was killed.”