Rated 12+ for fantasy and violence.
Part 1
“Haven’t you been paying attention?” he asked sharply, all the emotion that had been eating his voice replaced with fury. “ ‘I’d be automatically teleported to someone who could help me’.” He paused for a second, waiting for Anna to make the connection, but she didn’t. “Don’t you see? You’re supposed to help me! That’s why I’ve been teleported here, so you can help me!”
“What? That’s absurd!”
“Anna, think about it! When did I arrive?”
“I don’t know, somewhere around midday!”
“The first rule of teleportation: it only happens around midday, when the sun is the brightest. Good magic, the kind of magic I use, comes from the sun, thus is the best when the sun is at its most powerful.” He said this in a rushed tone, as if he had recited it one too many times. “Second rule: once teleported, the new magic inside of you claws through your brain to find any useful information from your past that could help you in the present. Pretty much, they dig up old memories and old thoughts that relate to what’s happening to you, and you receive them in a vision of a dream or a flashback, which usually comes whenever you start to think about something to do with your memory.” There was a pause in which Anna didn’t speak, so Darell cried, “How do you think I’m remembering this all so easily?”
“I don’t know, you’re an actor, so you have a good memory!”
“I remember words, Anna, not places and everything!” Anna wasn’t sure why he paused again—perhaps he half-expected her to cry, “Oh, you’re right, you wonderful, amazing person! Let’s forget this ever happened and be friends forevermore.” But Anna was not that type of person, and so she only glared back at him.
“You think I’m making this up?” he screeched. “How could I make this up that quickly?”
“Oh, I don’t know,” Anna replied rather sarcastically, “I can make up lies in a second.” Then, grinning at him, she went on, “The first rule of Anna Blissil: though I might be rude, heartless, and unforgiving, I am not stupid, and I am never gullible. Second rule: she does not believe in impossible things, like magic and fairytales. I am no longer five, thank you very much!”
“I never said anything about fairytales!” Darell retorted, his eyes wide in disbelief.
“But you believe in them, don’t you?” Her voice was no longer raised, but unusually soft, and Anna looked down at him, obviously disappointed. “Look me in the eyes and tell me honestly that you don’t believe in fairies and goblins and magical stuff like that.”
Darell held her gaze for a few moments, and Anna had to give him props for not looking away. But eventually, with a sigh, he leaned lifelessly back into his bed.
“That’s what I thought,” she whispered darkly, and turned away from him, once again glaring into her vanity mirror, so she could see her own hatred through her eyes and Darell lying in her bed.
“Please,” he finally croaked, and Anna almost laughed. He had resorted to begging. “Please believe me, Anna. You know you want to.”
She didn’t turn to face him—she couldn’t. She stared at his reflection in the mirror, watching his sad eyes stare up at her, wishing for her to believe him. She almost did want to. But it went against everything she had been taught, and everything she knew and understood.
“I’m sorry,” she said rather stiffly, in a voice that pretended it was not sorry at all, “but I have a dinner with my father. Rest until I get back.”
It was funny how things changed, how the room had a different light. When she had just stepped in only a half an hour or so before, it had had an awkward but nice feel. She had felt that for just a moment, she had a friend that was being honest with her. But it all crashed and burned. Just like everything in her life, it had all crashed and burned.
Someone was calling her name.
The entire world she had been living off of disappeared into darkness, and she opened her eyes to a night time sky with a large lion head and three small ones peering over her anxiously. Upon seeing her open her eyes and murmur a, “What?” the biggest head pushed the three littler ones away.
“Anna? Are you okay? Can you hear me?”
Anna sat up slowly, the world still spinning. She reached out rather weakly, and something soft and warm immediately rushed to her touch, helping her up. Without thinking, she rested against her, burying her face into it until she felt the spinning slow down.
She turned her neck so she could glance at the world around her. No longer was she stalking out of her room at her house. No. She was so far from there. All she could see was open land, from every corner she looked at—long, beautiful open land.
It all came back to her at that very second, so fast that it stung at her memory. The savannah. Sympa. The cubs. Magic. The river.
She realized then that she was resting against Sympa weakly, and in horror she pulled away from the lioness.
“What happened?” she squeaked in a high-pitched voice.
Sympa gave her a grave look. “You went underneath the water and didn’t come back out. Do you know how to swim?”
Anna should have felt angry, and she knew that better than anyone, but she was just too tired to. “Yeah, I do. I just kind of . . . dozed off.”
Sympa scrutinized her for a second or two, then, without another word, walked away. Anna followed her with her eyes, and she walked straight up to her husband, nudging him gently, then begin whispering to him.
Anna was watching them carefully, trying to figure out what they were talking about, when something leapt upon her. She opened her mouth to scream but swallowed it when she saw it was only one of the cubs, looking up at her with bright eyes.
“Hello,” said Anna, her heart racing. “What’s your name?”
The cub grinned in the way only a cub could. “I’m Lynaira! Mam said your name is Anna, right?”
“Yes.”
“It’s nice to meet you, Anna!” cried Lynaira brightly, then giggled softly. “Your name sounds funny.”
Anna felt like retorting, “My name?” but only nodded a bit awkwardly and looked back to the cub’s parents.
But Lynaira called her attention back. “Do many humans look like you, Anna?”
“I wouldn’t think so.”
“Why not?”
“Well, nobody looks exactly the same.”
Anna didn’t think that Lynaira’s eyes could glow any brighter until it happened. “Really?”
“Really.” Her eyes drifted back to Sympa.
“You know it’s the same with lions too?”
“Really?”
Lynaira smiled and swished her tail. “Really!”
“That’s nice.” She didn’t really believe the small cub, but decided not to fight her. For a moment, Anna questioned why she wasn’t aggravated, but then remembered her dream. Maybe since it felt like I was reliving it, I got the anger out of my system so I wouldn’t take it out on the lions. She looked around at them. Astorial was chasing Cyladminnie gleefully on the ground, Sympa was still muttering to Brassin, and Lynaira had curled up in Anna’s lap, looking up at her with grinning eyes. I guess that’s good. They seem nice, but . . . I still can’t understand why I’m here.
‘You’re not as clever as Darell made you out to be.’
Anna nearly jumped a mile in the air. Lynaira immediately shot off Anna’s lap in fear, running into Astorial who growled and snapped at her. Sympa turned at the sound of trouble and leapt over to them in a minute.
“What happened?” was her immediate question.
“Anna jumped!” sobbed Lynaira as her mother pried her off of an angry Astorial.
“Anna, what’s wrong?” Sympa turned to her, concern apparent in her eyes.
“Nothing.” Anna swiveled away from them in the grass, trying to act bitter. What are you doing?
‘Searching through your memories, and you?’
What? No, I meant, what are you doing freaking me out like that?
‘Sorry. I’d thought you’d gotten used to it by now.’
Really? She replaced her anger with sarcasm. Would you have gotten used to it?
‘Well, I’ve gotten used to you interrupting my thoughts, yes.’
Anna scrunched up her face in confusion. For a moment, a heart-breaking moment, she thought that there was another human, just like her, in the same situation as her. Are you--?
‘No. And if you ask me how I figured out what you were going to say, then you’re really dull.’
Anna frowned. Who are you?
‘We’ve been through this.’ The voice sounded as tired as Anna was. ‘I’m Magic.’
But you said Darell named me after you.
‘Well, yeah! How would you like to have the same name as everyone else in the entire world for all eternity? It’s like calling you ‘Girl’ or ‘Human’. It’s so stationary. So, I’ve been renamed, in every body I visit. They call me whatever ‘Magic,’ like, ‘Anna Magic,’ or ‘Elise Magic,’ or . . . what was the one before that? Oh, fiddles, I think it was ‘Queen Magic’. I quite liked that name. Perhaps you’ll pick something as fitting?’
What are you talking about?
‘I’m talking about me!’
Anna paused, trying to think it through. What does Darell have to do with any of this?
“Anna,” Sympa interrupted, “would you like some--?”
“No thank you,” she replied rather harshly. Her bad mood was back.
‘You really are the dimmest star in the sky.’
“Are you sure, Anna, we have some--?”
“No thank you!”
What are you talking about?
“Really, Anna, you look hun—”
“I’m good.”
‘I’ve already told you!’
Not really! Just tell me what you’re talking about!
“Mam, why isn’t she hungry after nearly die—?”
“Will you all just shut up?” hissed Anna, and without waiting for a response, she rose to her feet and walked a good few yards away from them.
Well? Are you going to answer me?
Magic laughed, but it rather sounded like the tinkling of a bell. ‘Work it out, Anna. Work it out.’
What? Work what out? She continued walking, as if it would help her think.
‘Oh my Mallegin!’ she swore crossly. ‘Even your readers know! They’re not in suspense, you’re the only one!’
Readers? What are you talking about?
‘Anna, for the love of Mallegin!’
What’s going on? Why can’t you just tell me?
‘You want me to tell you?’ She paused to collect herself. ‘Fine. Fine, I will. Since you’re too dim to figure it out yourself—’
“Figure what out?” Now Anna screamed her words.
‘Anna Blissil, you have inherited Darell Malle’s powers.’
A pause with confusion in its core ensued.
‘Anna, you’re a Magical!’
.