CHAPTER ONE - THE SATUS (Part 5)

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CHAPTER ONE – THE SATUS

(Part 5)

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The summer was long, hot and demanding.

Along with going to ‘witches’ camp’ every four weeks, I had to avoid Damien and his rules about how I should be a good wife (all of these he had heard from his older brother, as a result of difficulties with his own bride - she also resented being married so young). Mim’s constant experiments on me were also starting to wear thin. She was forever telling my mother, ‘She is different from the others. She might need to be seen by the council,’ to which my mother refused; she was scared of what might happen.

Somehow, in spite of these pressures (and my mother’s constant moaning about how the 90s had influenced the way some of the witches allow their children to behave, reducing my social circle in the coven to single figures), I still managed to enjoy my break as I prepared for high school.

After weeks of constant nattering to my parents about buying equipment for my first day at Laxo High, the day had finally arrived and I couldn’t have been more excited, ‘Breakfast’s ready!’ my mother shouted as I sped past Twinkle (our black cat) and arrived in the kitchen to see my family and Ruby, my best friend, sat around the table.

After the full English feast I burst out of the door, dragging Ruby behind me, to avoid my parents’ lectures on how to behave at school - especially with my new magical status.

Upon reaching the seemingly gigantic school gates, I was enchanted by the medieval design and even more overwhelmed to see the other students, whom I had longed to meet. ‘I can’t believe I’m finally here, Rubs!’ We walked through the crowds, overwhelmed by the normality of it all.

Less enthusiastic than my eager self, my companion merely nodded and guided me to the other young witches from our neighbourhood. Talking to them filled me with boredom; the conversation solely consisted of future husbands, going to magic camp and predictions on who might fail at magic school. ‘Well, I don’t think Sapphire will pass next month. Her parents can’t even afford to buy her the robes!’ One witch mocked, causing the others to laugh along with her.

The hierarchical circle was all too much for me. I made my excuses and headed inside to see what other delights I might find.

The other witches were hesitant to let me go alone but when they saw Damien at the doorway, they allowed me to pass without any further questions. ‘Hello, future wife!’ he joked as he took my books and walked me to my first lesson.

‘I’m not your wife yet,’ I growled in retort, as I realised a group of other students heard his greeting and started to look at us like the new weirdo’s of the school. ‘Well, I think this is us - thanks for your kind transport, see you,’ I said as I grabbed my book and ran into the classroom, leaving him deflated and insulted.

Mrs Baxter was a lovely teacher. Probably in her late 30s, with her long brown hair neatly styled in an understated bun, she wore natural-looking make up and a crisp white shirt tucked into her pleated, tartan brown skirt which landed just below her knee. She really was the epitome of grace and refinement.

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