Enchantdora

Eight

"Father, do me a favor and never say such again."

He looked quite puzzled.
"Why would you say such?"

I put the kettle of water on the stove.
"Because I am nothing like her. Mother is a paragon of perfection, she never took no for an answer, it didn't matter the fact that she was an Enchantdora she talked to anyone witch or wizard the way they deserved to be spoken to. She was brave, she is brave. I on the other hand, am weak. I am no where as good as mother someone"

Father was looking at me, he looked touched and I almost saw a tear escape his eye. Mother's death still touched him.
He stood to the cupboard and brought out two teacups, one for himself and one for me. He carried the kettle which had been whistling for a few minutes and poured the boiled water into the cups.

"What type of tea do you want?"

"Chamomile?" I was highly confused first were discussing about my mother, now he's asking what type of tea I would desire.

He nodded and put the bags in the cups.
"How many lumps of sugar do you want?"

"Four."

Father put in the cubes and stirred with a very tiny teaspoon and placed the cup in front of me and sat down.
I watched as he took a sip of his tea and did the same.

"Veronica Field-Wills. That woman drives me mad." Dad smiled and chuckled slightly.
"I met her at the Farmer's market. I had just bought two jugs of milk and when I turned away from the stall I bumped into her and poured the yogurt she purchased."

"And what did she do?"

"She poured a bag of flour on my head."

I held in my laughter. I knew mother was capable of doing such so I really wasn't suprized.
"And what did you do?"

"Nothing."

"Nothing?"

"Nothing. Absolutely nothing."

"Why? You could have called her out on it."

"I could've. But I couldn't go picking a row with a girl. What home training would that have shown of me?"

I nodded. He did have a point.

"Besides," Father started.
"I was too captured and captivated by her to do anything."
***********
"Master Arthur King! You will be sentenced to death by mind manipulation!" Said the White Witch.

No.
This is not happening.
This can not be happening.

The gavel of the White Witch was banged,then Doctor Heartbeat, next the Telepath, followed by the Alpha and Beta and finally the Head Minister.
It was final.
Arthur would be put to death at the age of sixteen.

The screams of Arthur's mother was nothing compared to the pain I was feeling within.
Call me selfish and I am, he's my first love.

I watched as the Telepath came down from her seat. She trod towards him.
Slowly.
It was as if she was mocking me.
It seemed as if her foot steps were in synch with my heart.
She stopped a tile away from Arthur's sneakers and looked into his eyes.
"Pain..."

That word was all it took for Arthur to start writhing in pain.
His veins shown green and his skin whiter than Costa who watched in horror from his seat.

"Please!" Arthur cried.
"I beg of you make it stop!"

The Telepath made a silencing movement with her hand.