The Last WitchChild

50 years ago a prophecy was made about the Last WitchChild who would save the world of witches.
Serena is that child and would anything to change that. However, after years of pressure and misery, her life seems to change. The world looks brighter than ever before.
But when darkness threatens to engulf them all, will she make the right choice?

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2. Waking up

I stared at the ceiling, willing something interesting to happen.That pretty much sums up my whole life,everyone staring at me,willing something to happen,something to give them hope. Constantly being let down by what they see. The hopes of the world have rested on my shoulders from the day I was born yet I'll be damned if a single one of those days I have fulfilled someone's hopes. I sighed and rolled over, knowing that the ceiling would not change colour, explode or suck me up into a parallel universe no matter how long I stared at it.

I heard a voice calling my name, "Serena!" Moss called. I sat up with a groan and trudged out of my bedroom downstairs. Moss was waiting for me downstairs, her wide green eyes twinkling like always, no matter how many of my moods she had to put up with. She was my housekeeper/replacement mother and had been around for as long as I could remember. My rock no matter what, always there to hold my hand. The years had reached her by now, her plump cheerful face was softened by lines and her midriff had an extra layer of padding, but I loved her the same.

I looked down and saw an emerald green dress in her hand. "Another one?!"I moaned, dreading the time it would take to squeeze it over my head, tighten the necessary parts and find the right accessories to go with it. Then I would have to put up with wearing it for hours, feeling the itchy fabric rubbing against my skin. Finally I would have to get it off, but probably end up ripping the dress to shreds in the process, as I am useless with dresses.

"Yes, I'm sorry" Moss said. I sighed, I knew it wasn't her fault that I had to go to so many occasions. "What's it for this time?" I asked, as I grudgingly allowed her to slide the dress over my head and begin tightening all the loops at the back.

"Umm let me see..That's it! You're mum is meeting with the Pecala clan and they have a new revolutionary healer who they think will be able to help you, you know, speed up getting your powers."

I snorted, I had been made to breathe in, bathe and eat so many different plants which supposedly were to help me get my powers Im probably 20% leaves. I am what witches call a late bloomer, meaning that my powers are taking a while to appear, the time slot is about 16-18, and I am very close to my 19th birthday This really doesn't help, as everyone has waited for me to get them since birth, and waiting even longer really doesn't help my stress levels.

I quietly pondered what this healer thought would definitely work and then won't understand why it doesn't. I felt Moss slide something around my neck then spin me around to face the mirror. I stared at myself, wondering again how Moss managed to make my uncoordinated, gangly body look graceful.

The pale green dress flowed over my body like water, and my normally extremely annoying, extra long hair hung down from my shoulders like a dark black waterfall. My pale skin seemed to shine in the pale light and I wondered again how she'd done it.

"Now you'll have 3 hours free time before the meeting, but you need to be at the town hall by 4, okay? I wanted to get you ready early just in case something went wrong" Moss said, breaking me out of my reverie. I grimaced, I had all too many times been given clothes made for girls with much more figure than me, so then they had to be completely resized in 10 minutes. Still, I don't get the point of all these dresses, why not the same each time? I guess it's to make our clan look richer, though we're actually really struggling for cash. You'd think one of the plus sides of magic would be making money out of thin air, but no apparently you can't.

"So you can go do whatever you want, but you mustn't be late! You know that the crone from the Pecalas is almost in charge of us all, you mustn't upset her." Crone is just a word we use for head of the clan, for instance my mum is the crone of our clan, but she hardly looks like the warty old woman that you imagine.

I headed out of the door, yelling "thanks!" back at Moss. I honestly don't know how I would survive without her. Because Mum had so much work to do with the clan, and Dad being dead, she hired Moss to look after me, she's pretty much replaced all family I have.

 I walked down the road briskly, trying not to look at the dilapidated houses around. I imagine that about 20 years ago these roads would have been filled with laughing children, busy adults and people all around. But with all the children gone, and me being the youngest person here and you will never see me running, I fall over way too much. Ever since  the Shadows have been spreading in the woods, people have been afraid to go out, staying in their houses more and more. People have slowly left the country too, heading for warmer, safer places for their families, away from Obsidian. I don't blame them, I'd join them if I could.

I followed the path that I knew so well, down the road, left onto the lane, then come to the fork, right again then I come to the little path. As I walked along it I lifted my hand to brush along the leaves, treasuring the soft caress of each. Whenever I came to the forest I felt totally at peace, like nothing could hurt me, nothing from the stress of my normal life could touch me, a place where I could just be...me.

The path widened, as I knew it would, into a small grove. I looked around at the lush green grass, the shaded canopy of trees, the soft petals of the patch of lavender in the corner, and sighed. I was home.

I went to the oak in the corner and peeked inside the little hollow. 4 fluffy faces with wide yellow eyes stared back at me, wary yet curious in spite of themselves. I breathed out a sigh of relief, I had found the owls nest a few weeks ago, and checked up on it as often as I could since. I had christened the owlets Percival, Albert, _____,______. They were used to me now, but instinct taught try and heal youto be  wary. I slid down the tree still I was leaning against it, sitting on a soft cushion of moss. I leant my head against the rough bark and stared up at my own piece of heaven...

Suddenly my head jerked up towards the dark leaves above me. Wait a minute, DARK leaves? I had been here way more than 4 hours! I lurched up, drunk from sleep. I ran through the leaves, ignoring the branches whipping at my face and snagging my hair. I came to the villiage and ran up the street, not wary of cars, for hardly anyone used cars anymore, only for long journeys because we knew how it was killing the animals. I skidded left and ran into the town hall, flinging apart the double doors.

8 very surprised( and angry) old people + my mum looked up at me. I held up my hand, bending over to catch my breath. Finally, when I found I could breathe properly again, I walked meekly over to the one empty seat in the corner and muttered a quiet "sorry".

An old lady in the corner, with long grey hair, almost down to the ground, glared at me. I instantly disliked her. She cleared her throat and said, glaring at me all of the while "We were just discussing your, er, incapability to produce any capability in magic" Well, at least she saw the truth.

She gestured behind her " We have brought our best healer, Rowan, to see if he can help your condition" Great, I was ill now was I?

 A figure stepped out from the shadows behind her, but instead of a wrinkled old prune like I expected, a young boy stepped out, who couldn't have been more than 2 years older than me. He had toffee coloured hair, cropped quite short, that hung in front of his eyes. That was strange, male witches normally kept their hair long. He had bright brown eyes which stared at the ground, he was probably just as embarrassed as me. He was  wearing a pale blue polo shirt and tan jeans. He was their clans best healer? Wow they really must be struggling.

Wait a minute, he look absolutely terrified of the old lady, and she was bossing him around like he was dirt. Fu. I mean Fudge, she must be that crone that's practically queen of us all. Well I've completely messed up trying to make a good impression, she already hates me. Now I understand why mum was glaring daggers at me from across the room.

"Well, that's, um, nice." I said, scrabbling to redeem myself.

Mum spoke, glaring at me all of the while "He has new ideas which we all think could really help. You will let him try and heal you". She said it like a command, not a question.

I inwardly sighed but struggled to keep my face composed.

"You may go now" the old woman said, gesturing towards the door. I thought it best just to do what she said, even though it would be very funny to bend over like I had a stomach cramp, then pretend I got my powers. Then I'd point my hands at her and say a few made-up words, her face would be priceless!

But sadly, I do not have the guts to do that, so me and the boy, Rowan?, hurried out. I glanced behind me and saw Mum mouthing at "I'll talk to you later", not a pep talk, telling me not to be so afraid of that old crone, oh no. This would be another long talk about how I have to pay respect to may elders and turn up on time for meetings, which people made for me.

We walked back to my house in silence, I tried to avoid looking at him and instead stared straight ahead, this was already awkward enough, but out of the corner of my eye I could see him peeking glances at me. I'm used to that, whenever I meet new people they stare at me. I hoped he wouldn't think I thought myself too good to talk to him, I was just way too embarrassed.

 completed soon

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