2The fresh smell of coffee and baked goods overpowered the senses pleasantly as a petite young woman lazed about on a dark mocha colored sofa, sketching casually with her used graphite sticks. Though not her profession, she found sketching in a cozy environment to be quite relaxing, and soothing to the restless mind.
Could use improvement, since I'm far from perfected - she mused, staring at the slightly off perspective since she was mostly free-hand sketching from memory. Light brown eyes, speckled with soft greens, looked outside the windows nearest to her cushioned self.
The skies were darkened by the moody storm clouds as it poured, giving that nice fresh rain smell that the brunette enjoyed as a comfort. She even bought candles with the scents inspired by fresh rain and nature. She always enjoyed the wild weather from the rainy skies to the beautiful snow falls, or the loud rumbles from the thunder and the lightning that made her feel protected. At times, her own moods would influence her surrounding skies, darkening with storms, or clearing with bright blue skies.
Some would find it nerve-wracking. To her, it was the nature of the world - the beauty of life.
Small feet in white knitted stockings tucked invisibly beneath her, she looked adorable and odd all the same in her over-sized grey sweater with sleeves rolled up and the large lavender blanket wrapped loosely around her shoulders. Her long wavy dark brown hair pulled messily at the top of her head in a tangled bun, lose hairs here and there. Bangs a little long reaching the top of her eye-lids, reminding her that she needed a trim, or maybe grow them out.
The stress of her classes and exams, including her responsibilities to the Academy and her own coven, often left her mind occupied and greatly distracted from her own health and well-being. She tended to get like that - too busy to remember even the basics, such as a meal or two she'd missed cause she was too wrapped up in studying, or practicing for a new spell.
And the amount of coffee she inhales every morning would possibly send a human into cardiac arrest, but there were some lucky benefits to a witch's physiology. Fortunately, she had her coven mates to remind her - whom worry at how much she has on her plate - only to force her to relinquish half of her responsibilities so she actually can get some much needed rest.
Everyone has their vices - hers is just forgetfulness and over-working herself, and unhealthy habits: such as loads of sugar intake.
To each their own, she thought.
And so, here snuggled up, Saoirse was a captive in her own dorm-like manor, sipping warm freshly brewed coffee and munching on a very delicious cinnamon coffee cake - she loved coffee - in the central 'chill' room as Raffi put it. It was set up as an entertainment room - tele and all. Often, she'd see her coven playing games from their own wide selections of gaming consoles, or enjoying every Saturday movie nights snuggled up with each other and junking out with various unhealthy foods of the human world - Saoirse was quite a fan of chocolates; particularly, the milky chocolates. However, Nikki introduced her to a unique drink she's never had before, the many favlors of boba tea's. She's been on a obsessive phase where she has to try all the flavors, but she's always a sucker for the basics and teas, her favorite being the Milk Thai tea's with the surprisingly satisfying chewy bubbles at the bottom.
This place was a dream dorm for the young human, honestly.
At least, that's one way Bella put it, agreeing with Raffi and Nikki, whom have the most understanding of the mortal world.
Shifting in her place, the witch began to allow her mind to wander. It was a pleasant morning with her toasty warm familiar, Rhys, whom was curled snugly at her side, purring loud and strong. Occasionally, she'd pause to give the fluffy long-haired familiar scratches behind his pointed ears, petting and cooing at him. He was like a mini vibrating furnace that ate up all of the love and attention - cranky when he received neither for too long, like the typical affectionate cat. Her fault, honestly, for spoiling him. His thick, long black and grey fur need much grooming - honestly, a lot.
Lips pursed, the petite woman leaned back to look at her drawing with a squint, eyeing the sketch as she rotated it this way and that way.
For a week now, she's experienced having these odd dreams - not actual visions where you see the events playing out in different potential futures. No, she gets the strange ones which required you to decipher and dig deep to unravel their meanings.
Completely frustratin', Saoirse growled internally.
Sometimes, however, she could get a face or location, and so drawing them out helped her for researching. Glimpses, really.
Due to a mild ache in her drawing hand, Saoirse set her sketchbook down from doing dozens of sketches back to back, trying to have them all down on paper to help her mind work it through them. With her "witch's brew" coffee mug in hand, a gift from her step-sister as an inside joke, the witch sinks back snugly with a deep tired sigh, sipping with contentment as she breathes in the fresh brew heat.
Bella was literally the ONLY human who knew of her witch-y life, and it was only purely by accident. Saoirse always had a fear of revealing her secret to her only living relatives; though only through marriage, technically, it didn't matter to her. At all.
Under unfortunate circumstances, she lost her grandmother and her mother, and when she was a young girl, her father - whom she can remember easily due to her supernatural enhanced memory. Much like some supernatural being's out there, witches have such impeccable memory. It sucks when you can easily relive horrid memories as if it was happening then and there in the present.
Add that to her most recent development in powers; visions.
For the past month, she kept seeing snippets of the same things, places mostly. The La Push beach, curiously - she'd visited the place plenty whenever she stayed with her human step-father, and played with the La Push local kids, mainly the twin daughters of Billy Black who were about her age. Then there's some field, or meadow. The old ballet studio which her step-sister, Bella, used to go to as a child with her mother, Renee.
Thinking back on her human family, a smile always appeared on her lips. She never knew her biological father, which her mother remained tight lipped on such topic, but since her mother met Charlie Swan, it gave her such an important broadened perspective of the non-magical community. She honestly loved stepping outside of being sheltered to only her mother and magic. Never really having the chance to connect with the world, unless it were related to her studies and practice of powers.
She was blessed to experience the relationship with a father figure through Charlie, and having a younger sister through Bella. She only met Renee a few times, and each quite awkward. But she loved this little piece of normal, especially it being so uneventful - you'd be surprised how chaotic it can get just by having magic in your blood. When you do, it's as if everything in that world wants to challenge you to see who holds more power. Entirely exhausting.
It's been about a couple of weeks since she last visited her step-family, and already hated being away in another country. However, she was nearly done. This would be her last year, as well for the entire coven of hers. Although, her duties would continue regarding the school itself, considering it will be handed down to her once she's completed more tasks after graduation. Much like gaining more experience under her belt, if you will.
So when these visions began, Saoirse took it as a sign to return to Forks, Washington, and to figure out what these signs meant - threat, or no threat.
Yet, the subjects were always surrounding, or involving these few: Bella, Forks, and La Push.
Visions were a tricky thing. Especially in how to work with them - to change or to assist.
She was entirely new to the concept. Terrified, if she were honest with herself. It was something rare, yet not impossible to have among the pure-blooded - like herself. It's not something you'd expect in the early years of a young witch's life. It takes a lot out of you, zapping your energy, and giving massive migraines.
But these were natural ones, which usually start through dreams. Fortunately, it didn't do much harm, just taking away your body and mind's rest. It seemed the spirits were either desperate, or she was just an early bloomer.
As every young witch is told - nothing is given, only taught and earned through hard work.
In other words, she had to learn how to control and pull from them. Like learning to drive a car. Best way to think of it as of now.
Right now, she just wanted to enjoy being herself, just Saoirse. To learn the normal way, but of course, some higher power had to complicate her life.
Leaning over, she grabs her smartphone from her bag, and begins snapping clear pictures of her sketches so to keep it on a digital copy. At the rate these visions of nonsense come, she'll have a whole library of filled sketchbooks. There's hardly any room for that.
After capturing high quality snaps of each sketch, she sips at her coffee, offhandedly muttering in distaste at how cold it was now.
"I had no idea you could sketch this detailed.. You've been improving."
Startled, the young witch jumped with a weak 'eep', spilling a bit of her coffee on herself.
Saoirse groaned a little at the stain, and quickly made a small gesture to watch it fade away. Pleased, she glanced behind her to see her dearest friend, Bowden "Bo" Locklear, reach out and grab one of her sketchbooks to flip through, humming in thought at each sketch. "Would it kill ye to not sneak up on unsuspecting lasses, hm? Else I'll be given ye a damn bell." All she got was loud laugh, at her expense, of course.
His gorgeous long straight near black hair fell around his face, only to be tucked at one side behind the ear. From her perspective, Bo was an attractive male - tall, dark, and absolutely handsome - coming as completely platonic, mind you. Like all men in his family. She couldn't help but compare certain traits. His hair is healthier than mine, and it's unfair!
Of course, what would you expect in a family of shape-shifters who grow taller, and incredibly fit and strong. Though, he wasn't actually one, the Native American did undergo some form of change - from his mother's side, including her powers. Hence, him being in a school for magic.
Saoirse let out an airy laugh. "It's abou' all I can do. Painting and all tha' artsy stuff is Nikki's thing, ye? I only sketch when needed, and I've had a lot of practice lately."
The tall russet skinned man settled at the other side of the sofa, grinning at her. He gave Rhys a scratch as the feline familiar crawled onto his lap, earning a pout from his witch. "That's right, you're all about the baking and cooking. Just like your mom."
At the mention of her mother, her mood dipped slightly, a sense of sadness flickering once more deep within her spirit. "ye, she was the best."
"I'm sorry, Saoirse," Bo sighed, receiving a small smile in return. "I shouldn't have brought her up so casually, yet. Especially since it's only been a two months."
Shaking her head, the witch scooted over, snuggling up against the tall Native American. Head on his shoulder, she grabbed his hand and sat there in comfort, remembering the woman they admired. "It's alrigh', Bo-bear. We need to remember her as she was, and her life. Never forget her memory."
Humming, he gently laid his head on hers, rubbing her hand with his thumb. "You're right. She would've hated for us to continue to mope around like the world ended. I can just imagine her giving us an earful for being so depressing."
Shoulders shaking in laughter, Saoirse nodded in agreement before giving a mock-serious face. "What are ye two eejits moping around for! Snap out of it befor' I give ye something mope about!" Bo laughed at the on point impression of her own mother.
"She'd be rolling in her grave if we continued being 'eejits' and 'wee sissies'." Bo snorted. The woman was a spitfire - a soul unlike any other, truly.
They continued to laugh at all the things Aileen Heartwood-Swan would say. The older witch, younger in body due to their magic-blood - ultimately, made things a lot more complicated what with being married to a mortal man- was a strong and willful woman. Blunt and fiery, and quite sassy too - like an Irishwoman as to be expected. Her presence was like a tempest storm: temperamental and fierce. That was her mother. Couldn't count the times she would get into trouble, earning her mother's frightening lectures.
She was protective, and loved greatly. She often acted like a mother to many, and made sure they knew she was there for any. She was especially admired in La Push, close with Billy Black, Old man Quil, and Harry Clearwater.
Saoirse, however, was quite the troublemaker growing up - a prankster. And it took a woman like Aileen to keep her in check, the both of them. And she did, most of the time. Thankfully, Saoirse grew out of that phase, and in time, too! Aileen looked to be about as close as murdering her own daughter.
Mother was willful, and Saoirse free-spirited - both were stubborn.
After a while of past memories and the late Hartwood, they fell into a somber silence. Aileen will forever be missed, and never forgotten. No one could forget the fierce woman, whom made such an impact on hundreds, possibly thousands, over her long life span.
Her death was a shock - seeing as it wasn't easy to kill a powerful witch.
"So," mused the Native. "How's Charlie? And Bella? The funeral definitely didn't do any good, but each of you looked barely holding it all together. Even ol' Billy Black looked to be in the same boat..."
The witch hummed, thinking back on the dark funeral. And like the connection she holds with nature, it rained. Dark skies, and rain with subtle thunder. Unfortunately the funeral was cut shorter due to her lack of control on her emotions, and oddly she swore that she saw knowing looks from the tribe elders, especially Billy Black. She never had the time to wonder and question if they knew her and mum's secrets.
Light brown eyes dulled ever the slightest, looked back at her companion. "As well as he can after the death of his wife. Charlie loved mum deeply, and she him... he's still so shattered, but he's... coping the best he can. We definitely keep in contact every week. I think it helps him a lot as well, perhaps in a way that he stays connected to mum through me? I can tell he's scared I'll disappear, too... As for Bella, she's heartbroken, for sure, but she seems to be more so concerned for me. She never really got to have that deep bond with mum since she barely visited."
"It's good Charlie keeps in contact a lot with you," Bowden spoke softly, sympathy in his dark eyes. "Family is strongest when they stand together in support and help heal."
Saoirse smiled softly, her heart feeling as though it tightened in a bittersweet pain at the thought of Charlie and Bella, her family, mourning her mum with her. They were incredible and thoughtful people, though a bit awkward, but she loved them all the more.
"So," Bo started, attempting to shift the conversation onto something less hurting. "You going to tell me about these sketches? Or are you genuinely interested in the skill as a hobby?"
"No, there's a reason, but also, yes, it is also quite calmin', ye?" she softly spoke, eyeing the sketchbook as it sat on the table. "I've been dreaming of these places. And Bella, oddly."
"Vision dreaming? How strange." long russet fingers rubbed gently along her paler, and smaller ones. "That's not something to occur until almost a century...you sure it's not something else?"
"Of course," she huffed. "It's been drainin'. Especially when I can't seem to get a full nights rest since they started late last month. And then, as of this week, I get some in the day."
"They're coming in strong, because you're suppressing them." he warned, worry evident in his dark eyes. "I'll look into this as well, it's dangerous be getting so many and so forcefully. Something isn't right about these. As if something, or someone, is trying to reach out."
Scoffing, the witch adjusted her posture to grab one of the other sketchbooks. "It's not intentional!" she earned a raised eyebrow. "And that's just terrifying. Wha' could be tha' important to consciously force these visions, it must be tha' serious...do you imagine?"
"I agree," Bowden murmured in thought, squinting at the witch. By the sounds of it, she's experiencing a higher presence of powerful visions. These were most definitely the sort to never ignore.
"Dont' give me tha' look, Bowden." she glared back with a pout. "I just don't want to make a big deal out of them until I can understand what is happening to me. I can't figure out what they mean, either. It's frustrating."
"Do you recognize any of them?" she gave him a blank stare. "Besides Bella, of course."
"Yes!" she huffed in frustration. "There's the La Push reservation area's, such as the First Beach and Billy's house, which I haven't been to in ages. And then Bella's ballet from when she was just a wee lass, but the others?" Saoirse leaned back, sipped some of her luke warmer coffee, and sighed. "No fuckin' clue. Like random meadows, and unidentifiable scenes with blurry pasty as-fuck people. What's worse is they aren't in any specific order. Just jumbled."
"That's rough." he muttered in concern. "How about starting with contacting Bella. Have you?"
"I 'ave. Out of immediate concern, and just kind of kept checking in every other day. She probably thinks something's going on with me now. She's worried." she sighed, accepting Rhys now cuddling into her chest as she began to feel anxious.
"Hmm. Maybe, wait it out and see." Bo carefully placed his arm over her head and pulled her into him, giving a gentle kiss at the top of her head. "No need to stress it out until you finish finals. Just continue to contacting Bella, get a feel for what's going on in her life for now."
"Ye," she leaned into his warmth, closing her eyes with a sigh. "I don't know. I wish it was clear what I'm supposed to do with all of this information."
"You may just be getting some sort of preliminary visions before the big ones? " Bo rubbed the back on his head, thinking hard on these visions and their purposes. It's potentially dangerous for these visions to come at the pace they are on the mind of a young witch. "Like I said, I'll do some researching of my own, so don't stress too much, or fight them. Just let them come and ride them out."
Saoirse nodded with relief for the help, especially that help coming from Bo. He always knew how to calm her and keep her sane. Without looking , she threw the sketchbook on the table, accidentally knocked over her coffee mug. Shrieking, she rushes to grab towels to dry them all off. Thankfully I took pictures befor' my careless tossing!
"Saoirse-wait! Look!" Bo held his hand out, startling the small witch as she froze mid-action. Confused, she stares at the tall native male, following his gaze that watched in awe at the table.
Standing in shock, light brown eyes watched in awe of her own, as the dark browns of the liquid began to move, shaping and changing in color intensity as if a magic had a mind of it's own.
"What. The. Hell." the irishwoman muttered, her heart picking up as an image began to finally take shape. Soft brown eyes snapped back and forth between the tall male and the table, unsure what to do. "Is that normal?"
A small shrug was her answer.
Finally, at what felt like forever, the coffee stopped moving along the pages, staining a picture as it now was absorbed and drying.
It was eerie, yet fascinating, because neither casted a spell to perform such an unusual phenomenon. Not in great detail, the coffee stained painting before them held a subject that left them both even more confused:
Wolves?
"Remind me again, Bo," the petite witch murmured as she carefully picked up the ruined and coffee soaked sketchbook to closer observe the accidental painting. "The Quileute Tribe were known to be descendants of wolves, ye?"
Nodding, the Native American looked at it in thought, arms crossed in thought. "That would be correct. They're like our tribe, essentially. We often visit, trade, and on the special occasion, share stories around bonfires. A tradition, not many knew how true the legends were... It has been ages since I've been...last time I was just a small boy, actually. Maybe my mom can help us, too..."
Sighing, the witch looked to the man, "I guess the answer to the source... is clear now - shifters are involved."
Nodding in answer, Bowden rubbed the back of his neck, while easing himself back onto the mocha cushions. Saoirse observed the look on his face, one of concern and contemplation. "The spirits in which gives the tribes the ability to shift into Spirit Warriors, or Healers, have spoken to you through these visions. It must mean something...something serious enough to warrant such a direct connection... will occur. But what's interesting is that they have spoken to you about the tribe, but not them or someone who is related to the tribe. It's curious... but it sounds like they will need your help in something, just not sure as to what yet exactly..."
Unsure, she sat beside him, listening to his own explanation. He was right, it was strange. She was neither a part of their tribe, nor Native American at all. Through her mother, she only knew the tribe AND some of their tribe's secrets. Only through Aileen, which got the witch to thinking - she knew the last pack, actually. In fact, she remembered there was some treaty she helped negotiate at the time between them and another group.
Was their more than what they original had thought? Was her mum more connected to the tribe than she had originally imagined, and so somehow she was, too?
She never really knew HOW her own mother knew the tribe, or why of ALL the places to pick from, she chose that little corner in the entire world. Hell, there were shifters all around, unique to their motherlands and cultures, and so their stories vary, but the purpose were all the same.
Protect.
He looked to her with such a somber look, "I believe that the bloodlines have been recently activated, and the younger generations shifting now. There are giant wolves in La Push, Washington as we speak, Saoirse. Which leads to the next conclusion..."
At that moment, everything just clicked, she remembered the stories when she was a small lass.
With a soft gasp, Saoirse found it difficult to breath as shock, and fear swelled in her chest. She knew Charlie lived there, but Bella had recently moved to Forks by her most recent news, now living with her father. And so, for there to be wolves, it only meant one thing:
'cold ones', or as the world knows, vampires.
Not just that, they were lingering. Staying long enough to cause the shifts. It concerned her deeply at this discovery. She'll have to see if she can pick up on some things through her step-family, and make her decision.
She'd have to contact Uncle Billy, and she had a gut feeling he knew very much what she was and capable of through her late mum. In order to investigate all her wonders and concerns, she had to approach it all with tact and caution, considering shifters were known for their tempers. She didn't want to accidentally out herself, either. Just in case.
"I'll be sure to find out some information from Charlie, perhaps you should begin the investigation around the tribe first? Considering the stories, and are often kept within the tribes. An outsider asking may be a bit much..?" Saoirse wanted to be as respectful to their history and traditions, and being both an outsider AND a pale face..? Much more difficult to approach if coming from her. And so she gathered it'd be best to come from Bowden, who is both Native American and whose own tribe is close in connections to the Quileute Tribe.
Bo smiled, appreciating her consideration. "Can do. I'll contact the Tribal Elders and try to get something from Billy, while you ask a bit through your step-dad. Just be careful with how you word things."
"Of course," Saoirse scoffed. "The last thing I want is to risk upsetting Charlie's view of the world, or putting him at risk. Knowing that there's things out there, things that go bump in the night? Or chance ruining his and Billy's friendship if he ever found out about the huge wolves? I don't know. It's too much. Mum always kept the worlds separate. But something tells me that the tribe was an exception, considering the... furry deal."
The dark skinned male chuckled at her awkward description. "It's no different than my dad and brothers, Saoirse. They, too, have that... 'furry deal'."
"Yes, I know! It's just...different cause I know your tribe and family, practically my own family, too. I just don't want to step on anyone's toes, or risk exposure in the process. I mean, do they even know anything beyond vampires and their own tribe's supernatural blood? If they knew I was a witch... would they consider me a threat, or what?" Saoirse had many concerns with supernatural crossovers and such, too many risks. And shifters don't take kindly to the unknown, although not always. Better to side with being cautious and take slow steps to explore those options.
"That's true," the male witch sighed. "Perhaps the elders would help smooth any possible issues over? Your mother's been a huge presence in their tribe's existence."
"Maybe?" The witch groaned, setting the topic to the side due to the mild headache it was giving her. She rubbed the sides of her temple and sighed in exasperation. "Anyways! Let me know what you get, and I'll do the same. I gotta give Bella a call. I promised her I'd call the moment I had a chance now, considering the time differences."
With a nod, Bowden lingered for a little longer before heading out, leaving the petite witch to her own thoughts once more. Looking at her phone, she pulled up her step-sisters number, and considered her next words carefully as she began texting her back.
...*oOo*...
Not much to be edited for now, but I'll get moving.