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.