Chapter Two: Cliff

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Chapter Two: Cliff

        "She's gone. They say without a trace. A full day of searching and they haven't gotten one clue about what might've happened." My mother's tone was as dark as the night sky which blanketed the community of Mallowkeep heavily, Cliff's house included. With a small sigh, she thrust down the pink paper which had flown itself through the window just moments ago.

"I'm sure her father is throwing as much money as he can at it," Cliff remarked, picking at the steaming hot stew his mother had just prepared. Considering Charlotte and him had never been on good terms, her disappearance caused little disturbance in his life. 

Despite his best efforts at suppressing positive emotions on the matter, a small grin played at Cliff's lips. As he felt it creep onto his face, he found himself praying his mother wouldn't look up. As if reading the young element wielder's mind, her head shot upwards and noted his expression at once.

"And what is it you're smiling at?" she questioned, an exasperated glare boring into his eyes.

"The, uh, soup reminded me of a joke Adam told me earlier," Cliff responded with haste. For a moment, she looked as if she was going to explode in a flurry of harsh words and a flushed face.But the scolding he'd expected to receive for being so ignorant of other people's feelings never came. 

Instead, his mother moved from the other side of the counter that separated the two of them and threw herself down in a white chair at the table. He glanced to the right fascinated by her out-of-character behavior.

"This girl has just disappeared! How can you be smiling? God, I can only imagine how her parents are feeling. It must be horrible!" Her high voice carried through the kitchen, To his left, Celtic picked up his head at the sound of her distressed tone. The wolf's small, pointed ears were sitting at attention, his hazel eyes focused intently on Cliff's mother. As if deciding it was worth the trip, he picked himself up off the floor and trotted toward her. 

Cliff ran his hand through the black and brown fur as Celtic passed, but he shrugged Cliff off as he went to comfort her. Cliff's mother bent down and buried her head into his fuzzy body. As she held him in her arms, her curly, amber hair cascaded over his body. In that moment, a Purefide—one from the non-wizard population—could easily have mistaken him for a dog when, in fact, he was a wolf.

"All right, mom, I'm gonna go study for my level assessment," Cliff said, standing up and placing his dish in the sink, lacking any intention to truly studying. Without picking up her head, she raised her hand and the dishes began doing themselves as she draped her arm over Celtic once more.

With the assessments to determine if seventeen year-olds were ready to move up a level in skill of magic fast approaching, it had become an easily accessible excuse to escape his mother when she was being too kind and caring for his liking.

"Good idea! I expect good results from you with all this studying," she responded with a small lift of her head in an attempt to come across as cheerful. Despite the smile slapped on her face it was evident she was still troubled by the news about Charlotte. Yet she put aside her emotions and tried her hardest to be a good role model. 

A surge of respect welled up in Cliff's chest as he exited the bland kitchen and started toward his room, wishing not to be with Celtic and his mother anymore than he already had. Ever since his father had died she had put her soul into creating a good example out of herself and being strong no matter how dark life made her path. And for that, Cliff was eternally grateful, but that didn't mean it wasn't tiring at times.

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