SpellBound Academia

THREE

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C H A P T E R T H R E E

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There were moments where I would think about my childhood. My mothers persistent lessons, my fathers frightening training, and my grandmother's enchanting stories. Growing up in a household with magic was odd, definitely, but incredible. Waking up learning about potions, brewing and casting spells, learning the proper way to fly a broom, and understanding how to use magic as a weapon or a way to heal when needed, all of it as a child was sometimes overwhelming.

Especially with the pressures weighing down on us, the heavy expectation already set at the moment of our births, our roles had already been assigned. I remember it vividly the way every lecture, scolding, praise set a reminder to us how important our names were. Each step we took, piercing and observing eyes were on us, watching our every move and judging our decisions. My father would advise us to always move in silence.

The days were filled with consistent back to back lessons, but the moment the sun painted the sky with its departure and melted into the horizon, I knew instantly the night would soon fall. By that time I would be rushing back home where I would soon sit comfortably on my grandmother's lap, listening to her as she told me her stories. Atleast at that point, things seemed to make sense to me. All felt normal and natural being in her embrace listening to her.

She'd hold me close, stare out into the fireplace and speak softly, just for her and I to hear. As if no one else in the world can share this moment we had together.

There were moments where I would think about my childhood, and in those moments I'm reminded of when life was so quiet and calm. When things seemed to make sense to me.

When my eyes grew heavy of sleep, her voice blending into the cracks of the fire burning the maple wood, the door to the living area would start to creak ever so silently right on cue. The gold glow from the candle lighting up the hall seeped into the room, casting a blanket of light like honey over us.

A figure would step into the light, the same shadow draping over the floor and growing wide till it would engulf us. I would stare at her, and it was always like looking at a mirror.

"Bianca." Imre whispered, cutting me off from my flashback. I lifted my gaze at him. "Baby, are you okay?"

My shoulders tensed, the realization dawning to me where we were. Only a few feet away from the main hall, where our principal awaited in his office.

After our conversation last night, we agreed to go tell the investigators on this case. Having called in early this morning with our principal, the both of us prepared for what's to come. And as always, my mind kept straying far. But, somehow Imre manages to string me right back.

"I'm okay," my voice wavers, but I keep still in my stance.

His eyes run across my face, and suddenly his hands wrap around mine, comfortingly. It's quiet and calm.

Stepping closer, he runs a hand across my cheek and tucks a curl behind my ear, he's so mesmerizing to look up so close. And even though we stand an inch apart, there's still this mystery of him, I can't read him at all. Soft smiles, kind eyes, gentle words, but none of it feels enough to answer this odd feeling in me when I'm with him. It's like walking into a room, forgetting what you were meant to do. Almost stranded, or lost and trying to trace back your steps to how you got there. There's something missing.

Still, I'm calm, he makes me calm. "I'm here with you." He reassures me. Nodding slowly, we continued our way inside.

The campus was empty since they still kept it closed from students while investigation continued, so it was strange walking into silence and with no one around.