Royal Magic

Prologue

1

Prologue

In the Kingdom of Perta, the land of agriculture and farming, stood a castle of white brick with five towers overlooking the city. The capital is called Helena where people of diverse backgrounds gather within the walls of the castle to sell their creations.

These creations vary maker to maker. One is a woman who makes clothes with a needle that moves by itself.  Another is a man that makes jewelry just by the flick of his hand. Yes, witch craft made this city into one of the richest  in the kingdom. In the castle in the furthest tower I reside in a room in complete disarray. This room has decorations of colorful painting of wild animals and pixies all over the white walls. 

This room is design to house the little nobles that will one day rule. Plush pillows, cozy blankets, if you can imagine it, they had it - their parents did not spare on the cost.

Five little ones now trampling over each other and on the many toys that litter the floor. Screaming in glee without  a care in the world. And in the corner, trying to read a book,  is me; wishing I had not volunteered to watch these rascals today. "Give it back, Roland!" Annie, who has the lungs of a stork, screams. 

The little boy in question holding a small colorful ball away from his companion.

"No, it's mine!"  shout Roland sticking out his tongue and making the girl furious.

"That's it! I'm going to get you!"

The girl gives chase, and the boy ran away like the little troublemaker he is. Distracted, he misses the blocks scatter around the playroom and came tumbling down. The deafening sound of the fall made me finally gets up from my comfortable rocking chair.

Leaving my chair, I felt my aching knees sing. Walking toward the children. I couldn't help but miss my younger body as I shook my legs to ease my cramps. I walk by a mirror and couldn't help but to look at my appearance. 

An old woman in her sixties with graying red hair is staring back at me. I am the spitting image of my Grandma Ruth sixty years ago. I admit, I looked fabulous, but I wouldn't mind being that seventeen-year-old girl again in Weston. Now, I am Grandma Ruth, every day in the mirror, and remembering those days were behind me. As I was pouting over my lost youth, my delightful charges knocked over the potted plants while chasing each other.

Sighing, I wished again, I hadn't agreed to watch these hell-raisers today.

"What's going on?" I ask with my hands on my hips, taking in the scene before me. Hearing my voice, Roland and Annie turn their heads to me. Twin guilty expressions met my gaze. And my other charges, Micah and the twins are ready to tattle.

 I am about to interrogate my other charges when Roland suddenly wails. Lifting himself from the floor, he runs into my knees, almost knocking me to the ground.

Groaning from the impact, I rub the boy's head and smiled at my grandson. Yes, Roland is a zealous child who reminds me of myself. God bless my father for his patience, I thought, brushing away the fiery red curls so I could see the hazel eyes that match my own.

"Roland, what happen?" I ask, giving him my best stern stare. The aspect I loved about getting older was learning how to intimidate with just a look.

Gulping, Roland try to tell his version of the story, but I held up my hand.

"And no lying because Grandma's eyes know all." I point to my gleaming orbs, and, just to make a point, I use a little of my magic to make them glow. That did the trick because Roland is blabbing on how their disagreement began. He and Annie were playing with watercolors and she decided it was boring and started playing with the ball. Which Roland didn't want to play with snatch it away, causing the spilled paint on the floor.