Chapter 3 - A Perfect Day

The sun shone down on San Myshuno, as bright and sunny as Emilia’s disposition as she led the twins through the rickety stalls of the flea market. This was one of her favourite things to do on a Saturday – to leave Glimmerbrook behind, take them through to San Myshuno, and find something that was happening there. The chairs and lamps that were being hawked held no interest to her, but being able to bring Rhea and Marcus here was priceless. Flea markets were useful to a spellcaster, and as she sat down she spotted a whole table of crystals she could use for her potions. 

“See, kids? Isn’t this great?” she asked, beaming. “Wait here, I’ll bring us back something to eat.”

Marcus opened his mouth to disagree, but Rhea was already off like a shot to try the pho. For Rhea, the best thing about these trips were the food stalls of San Myshuno, and she wasn’t about to miss out. 

When Emilia returned, she set down a fresh siapao in front of Marcus, smiling at him. He picked it up, and relented, taking a small bite.

“Mom, how come you like it here?” he asked, between nibbles. She looked around and waved a hand.

“How could I not? Marcus, the culture here is unlike anywhere else. It’s wonderful. Everything here is beautiful and full of life." 

Everything did seem more alive. People gathered on the benches around them, and even his mother seemed to be pulled from her funk into a perky mood. Behind them, the fountain trickled sweet smelling water, the stone elephant gazing into nothing. He'd been here many times before, but while usually he'd look forward to going home or occupy himself wishing it was GeekCon, he could, for perhaps the first time, see why his mother liked it so much.

His mother went off to bargain with the crystal vendor, who greeted her by name and with a smile, and Rhea returned with her bowl of pho, wincing as she ate and struggling with her chopsticks. 

“They made it wayyyyy too spicy this time.” She dragged the word out, and then blew on the pho. “I mean, not that I can’t handle it.”

He almost wanted to ask her for a minute, to open his mouth and ask, Rhea, do you think Mom is happy? But the words refused to move off his tongue, and instead, he focused on his own food, brow furrowed. The siapao was absolutely delicious, and he offered a small bite to his sister, who took it gratefully.

“Hey, Marcus?” she asked, once she was almost done. “Is something wrong?”

He hesitated, but shook his head, not wanted to go into it. Mom couldn’t really be unhappy, he was sure of it. She might look worried a lot, but that was just Mom. His thoughts were, however, interrupted by a cheerful voice. 

“Kiddos! It’s been a while, huh? God, you make me feel old.”

A pale teenager stood in front of them, grinning, her blonde hair in a loose ponytail over one shoulder. Rhea shrieked with delight.

“Ava!”

“One and only. How’s it going, Charm spawn?” She came to sit with them, setting down a plate of spicy curry. “Did you come for the grub, too?”

“Yeah, pretty much.” Marcus smiled. “Did you try the siapao yet?”

“Nah, I’m here for the spicy stuff. You know, it’s actually pretty hot today. I think the vendors are trying to see how many people they can get with the secretly spicy stuff. Either that or they’re trying to get a better rating. Sheesh.” She still ate a forkful. “So how are my favourite little demons?”

Ava Faba was Sage Faba’s only child, and one of Marcus and Rhea’s favourite people. At gatherings, she never acted in the way she was meant to – instead, she would come and treat them like she was babysitting them, and ask them how school was. Whether she knew it or not, both twins idolised her and were delighted to see her.

“We’re good!” Rhea smiled up at her.

“Should have known you’d be here, considering who I came with. Mom volunteered me to help your old lady with her ingredients purchases.” Ava rolled her eyes. “Man, she thinks she’ll haggle the right spices here, but I tell you, it’s vicious trying to get hold of the right stuff.”

The twins exchanged confused looks.

“Our mom?” Rhea asked, slowly.

“Nah.” Ava nodded her head over to a stall, where Minerva stood a little way away, her sharp eyes running over the market. “Minerva asked for some help--”

“Grandmother!” Rhea leapt up, running towards Minerva happily and leaving her brother behind. Minerva gathered her in a hug, smiling gently down at her.

“Little Rhea! What an unexpected delight.” She looked around. “And where is everyone – ah, your brother is there and…”

“Hello, Minerva!” Emilia’s cheery tone cut through the noise. “Rhea, don’t run off like that.” She had her crystals stowed in her bag, and was walking quickly towards Minerva. “I didn’t expect to see you here.”

“Oh, I come here sometimes for my potions. You know how it is with the trickier ones.” She tutted. “No rest for the wicked.”

“Indeed.” Emilia smiled, innocently, feeling a slight satisfaction in the irked expression she saw briefly flash over her mother-in-law’s face.

“So, how often do you bring Rhea and Marcus here?” Minerva asked. Emilia kept smiling.

“Oh, whenever we have the time. The food’s lovely here, and...the crystals can be quite a bargain.”

Minerva tilted her head. “Really? I find some of them can be quite overpriced. You’re lucky to be finding the bargains then. And you do this often?”

“Yes, I…” Emilia could feel herself faltering. “I like bringing them here. San Myshuno is such a wonderful place.”

“Oh, Sage Faba speaks highly of it. Not of the little markets like this, of course, but the city itself is quite wonderful. These places really are only useful to find potion ingredients.”

“Well, it’s a good thing that the children are enjoying themselves, isn’t it?” she asked, quietly, looking back at Minerva. Somehow, despite the sunshine she felt cold, and as though every bit of happiness had left the day. If only they hadn’t run into each other. She hadn’t known Minerva came to the markets. She’d never even seen her here before. 

“I’d love to stay, but I must take these home.” Minerva swept aside, leaving Emilia behind to hug Rhea again, and make her way over to say goodbye to Marcus. Feeling lost and belittled, Emilia could have cried. Once again, Minerva had ruined things without doing anything that you could pin down, point out and have as solid proof she’d done so. She just had. 

Chapter 2 - In the Blood

Minerva couldn’t help but feel as though something was deeply wrong as she sat in her house. Her house, which should have been filled with her family, was now only a haven for a sulky teen and an over-eager boyfriend to that sulky teen.

She’d had high hopes for both her children. Both of them had talent, and if they’d only applied themselves, they could truly have done great things. However, Darrel had not only moved in his wife when they were engaged, he’d moved out with her when the girl had asked him. Luckily, Minerva had a house to offer them, and Darrel had gratefully taken it. She’d seen the look in Emilia’s eye. Oh, yes, she had. And if Emilia thought that it was the end of it, she was sorely mistaken. Minerva had inwardly seethed. She’d taken the girl in, despite her low magical ability, when Darrel should have found someone more fitting of his family, and instead, she’d insisted on running away with her son in tow. Madness.

At least she had Rhea and Marcus as comfort. Especially dear Rhea, with her Charm looks and sweet disposition. Marcus was as stubborn as his aunt, but his magical talent when shown was undeniable. The baby she doubted would be capable of much. She was a sweet-looking thing, like Rhea, but...Minerva shook her head, silently. Oh, how she would have loved to teach the twins here! A wonderful opportunity, especially with the embarrassment of the Sage.

Well, that was what came from unions like that. He’d been so sure when she had raised the matter with him – delicately, of course – that his own magical ability would ensure a magical child. Hubris. Utter hubris. But one did not argue with Sages, it just wasn’t done. Instead, she had waited. And her own grandchildren outshone his children, and he must know it. Indeed, he’d barely looked at her during the last gathering.

Still, that aside, she had so wanted to help raise them, to teach them all she knew. It would have been wonderful to have a house filled to the brim with Charms, all of them learning the craft and studying, all of them a wonderful new generation that might even have had a Sage among them. And yet, here they were. She was here with Gemma and Evan, while Emilia swanned about in Aunt Beatrice’s house and pretended as though raising them like everyday children was the right way to go about it. It left a bitter taste in her mouth to see Darrel’s former room empty, to hear the house so quiet.

Evan, thankfully, was a follower of tradition, even if he was a little too eager to follow in her footsteps. She could only hope that the relationship he had with Gemma would last, but then, teenagers are nothing if unpredictable. Really, it was enough to make a body wish that matches between respectable families were still practised, but these days spellcasters preferred to be free to do as they pleased when it came to marriage. 

What a waste.

Gemma returned from work trying not to feel frustrated. Work and home had both been so stressful recently. Her mom was constantly on her back and she’d be an idiot if she didn’t know why. Recently, the tension between her and Emilia had been bubbling up again.

And, ew, Emilia. That was a sour thought, as always. Things had been fine at home until one day Darrel brought home his little blonde girlfriend, right when Gemma was about twelve, and when Emilia had finally gone away, she’d taken Darrel with her. And they’d had Mini-Darrels and a Mini-Emilia, which her mother was just over the moon about, talking about generations of Charms and continuing the bloodline, even though she didn’t like Emilia. It was easy to see that Emilia didn’t like her either, which had been amusing, but now it was just damn annoying. They never said it, they never said anything, and it was like watching an awful game of chess while knowing who would win.

It rankled as well to know that no matter how hard she tried, she wasn’t considered a player, either. Even when Darrel had moved out, and she’d thought that maybe, finally her mother would stop squandering all her focus on him, she’d just been told to continue her studies. The twins had become her new hope, and Gemma was, once again, ignored.

She could feel magic prickling at her fingertips, and tried to guide it into a spell. Just an exercise, a spell for light. Nothing unusual. The sparks swirled obediently around her, until a stray image of her mother with Rhea tugged at her mind and she gritted her teeth. Focus. Focus.

Untamed magic wasn’t without its drawbacks. The image, lingering, caused her focus to slip and within seconds, the spell burst like a puff of steam from her fingers, as if heated by her own rage. Untamed magic could respond to your emotions if you didn’t keep them in check. The heat of the spell washed over her, and she tried to pick up where she left off as she jumped back, trying to catch the thread of her magic before it could slip away.

The trouble was, every time she got frustrated and this happened, her mother might as well have been in the room with her, eyebrows raised.  When Gemma had decided upon learning Untamed magic, her mother had been firmly against it. She’d archly told her that she was too emotional to learn such a volatile magic, and that it would be twice as difficult as, say, Practical. Gemma had dug in her heels, and her mother had waved a hand. It had felt as though she had won. 

But that was the thing about her mother. You never won. She just let you go, and watched you fail, and never picked you up. Just that stupid cat’s smile on her face. Gemma let her spell go, releasing it like a tiny firework up towards the ceiling.

Chapter 1 - The Start of Things

Emilia was cooking in her cauldron, trying very hard not to think about what was weighing on her mind. If she concentrated on what she was doing, it simply lurked, but a troubled mind can make for troubled food, and this was her favourite thing to make for her family. She simply loved making things for them, especially when she was feeling down like this.

Moving out had been a big leap. It had taken a lot of persuading Darrel, which she still didn’t feel right about, but living with Minerva had been too taxing while she was pregnant. It was all rules and regulations about how she should raise her children, in the Charm way, and while she understood that preserving tradition was important for the family, it had been too much. Not that it stopped much once they did move out.

“We can have our own space?” she whispered. “Yeah, right.”

Because this house was not just any house, oh no. This was a house that belonged to the Charm family, with four rooms. The third was a guest bedroom, Minerva had told her, without a hint of smugness. She’d just been very practical.

“We might have sold it anyway, but Darrel says that you are looking to move. A wise decision.” She gave her a shrewd look. “We wouldn’t want any magical mishaps around the family home, but it’s close by. I will be on hand.”

And wasn’t she just. Even now, when Maranda was just a toddler, she would come by and almost inspect her, narrowing her eyes.

“She doesn’t much take after her father, does she?” she’d remarked. “Not like the twins.”

“She’s a little Emilia,” Darrel had said, lovingly. His mother hadn’t responded, but she’d stroked Maranda’s head absent-mindedly, as if performing some task. Emilia had cried, later on. But the message was clear. The twins were her priority. Maranda was, to her, not as important as Rhea and Marcus, both of whom she urged to study and learn the arts. Rhea was keen, but she and Marcus both adored Voidcritters too, which their grandmother highly disapproved of. Emilia had found herself defiantly buying as much as she could manage for their hobby.

She poured pepper into the cauldron, trying not to think too much. Just cook. Cook and forget.

Unaware of all the troubles on their mother’s mind, the twins were happy to dive in to the meal. The two of them had had an excellent day at school, something they were happy to chatter about between themselves.

“Me and Chanel had a battle today!” Rhea said, proudly. “You should’ve seen, I was really good. Why didn’t you come to the club?”

“Because I was busy,” Marcus said, grinning. “They just got the new Greywall book in at the library, and I had to check it out before stupid Ciara got her hands on it.”

“Ciara isn’t stupid!” Rhea waved her fork around. “You know it’s awesome not being the only twins in our year.”

“As if. Ciara’s super stupid.” Marcus stuck his tongue out. “She always acts weird at gatherings, too. Like she’s a big deal or something.”

“She likes the same things as you do,” his sister pointed out, only to have him blow a raspberry at her before continuing to eat.

It was true that Ciara always acted a bit snobby at magical gatherings, but she was alright at school. At gatherings, she and her father, who was the Sage of Untamed Magic, would be quite apart. It did sometimes feel like she was ignoring you, but Rhea had spoken with Grandmother about it.

Grandmother Minerva had told her in no uncertain terms that Ciara was acting just as she should during gatherings. As the daughter of the Sage, she had to adhere to tradition and ceremony, according to Grandmother. Rhea stuck her fork into her macaroni.

“Anyway, Chanel’s been training up her Yorier. She wants to enter the tournament at school. What do you think?”

This caught her brother’s interest. It might be a school tournament, but it was still a tournament.

“Well, I guess it doesn’t sound so bad. And if Chanel’s gonna be there, it might be okay.” He grinned. “Yeah, sure. Are you going to enter?”

“I want to!” Rhea smiled. “Besides, I can always beat you.”

“You wish!”

And so, the bickering continued as they ate. 

Rhea couldn’t help but think on what her brother had said. It did bug her when she couldn’t speak to Ciara, and even though Ciara and Chanel were twins, Chanel would never have ignored her at a gathering. But then, that was the issue. Chanel wasn’t a spellcaster. Chanel was, like her mother, unmagical by nature, and even though she smiled and said that she didn’t really mind, she sometimes talked about it at sleepovers with Rhea. It bothered her that she couldn’t go to the Realm with her father. She wanted to know what it was like, and even though she could be taught, it made her feel like Ciara was better than her.

Rhea had tried to tell her friend about it – the big cauldrons, the large bookcases, the places she’d only see when her parents took her there for official business. She even tried to tell her that children weren’t really encouraged there because of the nature of magic, and it was really only for certain ceremonies that you were allowed to go. But she knew Chanel still felt upset.

It was, really, much easier to talk about Voidcritters than about magic. The same could be said for her brother. He might have magic, but sometimes he preferred talking about Greywall and Voidcritters than talking about the gatherings or even the Realm.

After dinner, Rhea headed back to her room. Maybe she was just imagining it, but the macaroni had seemed a little more peppery than usual, and something about that had made her uneasy.

Was Ciara not nice? Rhea and she hung out all the time, usually because Rhea liked Chanel. They played games together, and sometimes Ciara would come to sleepovers with Chanel, and they made bracelets with each other. Sure, Ciara didn’t like video games, and would prefer to read rather than play Voidcritters, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t nice. She’d join in when theywere doing things together, and she wasn’t ever really mean, even if she could be bossy sometimes. No, Marcus was just being Marcus, Rhea decided. Ciara was just...Ciara, and Marcus was Marcus. That was all there was to it. 

In the nursery, Maranda was settling down to sleep, while her mother bent over her. At least here, in this room, that weight seemed to leave Emilia’s shoulders. Her daughter’s eyes were closed, and that wrongness she had felt seemed far removed.

“Sleep well, darling,” she whispered. “Sweet dreams.”