The fourth class of the day is History of Witches, and I cannot wait for this one. If there's a book, I'll devour it. I want to know all about every kind of witch there ever was. Maybe, just maybe, I'll be able to learn who my parents were and what happened to them. I'll be lying if the thought hasn't crossed my mind, the hope burning within me, that maybe my parents are behind my full-ride here.
But that's stupid, wistful, childish thinking. My parents tossed me aside, or else they died. Either way, they aren't here for me.
As soon as I enter the auditorium, I realize something very different about it. Before, the others sat mostly toward the back, as high up as possible in the stadium-styled seats. Now, all of the guys are in the back, but the girls are sitting as close to the front as possible.
I sit somewhere in the middle, in no man’s land. The gender disparity has me scratching my head but only until the mentor walks in.
He has to be a witch. I don't doubt that, but there's something so hauntingly beautiful about him that I immediately think of a vampire. The black clothes certainly help with that. His black cape billows behind him as he climbs down the stairs to reach the front of the room. His hair is poofy but not comically. In fact, it looks amazing on him. His eyes are just as black as his hair, and he has a bit of shadow. A rather straight line scar starts above his left eye and stops at his cheek. His button-down shirt rests beneath his fancy brocade vest. His tie is black and red, and now I completely understand why all of the girls are sitting so close to the front.
Like any of them have a chance with him.
"Welcome and well met. I am Mortimer Magnus, your mentor for History of Witches 101. The history of witches is long and involved and—"
“Utterly fascinating,” a girl calls out in a dreamy tone.
Mentor Magnus smirks. “Arwen Crowe.”
She sighs, even that sounding dreamy.
“I would appreciate it if you would focus more on my words instead of my lips.”
My eyes bulge, and I clap a hand over my mouth to stop myself from giggling. The guys behind me all roar with laughter.
Arwen just sits up taller in her seat. “I wasn’t—”
"Mysticism, young witch pupil. Mysticism can take on many forms, including mind reading."
I start to shoot my hand into the air, hesitate, and lower it again.
Mentor Magnus stares right at me. “Go ahead, Mirella.”
I wince. “Um…”
“Please.” He nods and almost smiles, something he hadn’t done with Arwen. It’s not flirting. It’s encouraging, but he won’t like what I have to ask.
Then again, he already knows and clearly wants me to ask.
After a deep inhale, I say in a rush, “Isn’t that an invasion of privacy to read someone’s thoughts? I mean, it would come in handy against an evil person, but to use it on your students seems a bit…”
“Wrong?” Mentor Magnus supplies.
Sheepishly, I nod and do my best to ignore the daggers and glowers the females are turning around and shooting my way.
“It is wrong, and I do not prefer to read your minds. I do not wish to, and I do my best to not. That being said, until you are taught how to shield your mind from a mystic in Intro to Magic 101, I’m afraid that it is impossible for me to refrain from hearing bits and pieces of your thoughts without even trying to and while trying to in fact actively ignore.”
I sit back in my seat and frown. Shielding your mind? How do you do that? Would it be like constructing a mental wall to keep your thoughts behind? Can mystics also talk to someone else mentally from afar? Can they implant thoughts or suggestions? How can you protect yourself from an attack that might only exist inside your mind?
Man. I thought after the riding class and the weapons, that the hunter training would be about magic and physical fighting more than anything, well, magical too, but mentally? That aspect I hadn’t even considered before.
Wait. When I’m going to be partnered up with a witch to spar during the weapons class, if I’m up against a mystic, she’ll have a huge advantage over me! That hardly seems fair.
“I do not wish to linger on this topic as it is not so much about the history of witches—”
“It’s about the history of mystics,” the girl next to Arwen says.
At least she doesn’t sound quite so swept off her feet. Then again, she is resting her chin in her hand, elbow on the table that served as a bench, angling her body toward the mentor whenever he shifted or walked or paced.
“True enough,” Mentor Magnus allowed. “My final words on this subject at least for now is that the stronger one feels the emotions behind their thoughts, the louder and farther broadcasted those thoughts become. Do try to keep your thoughts to your own mind as well as not to blast them.”
He glances at me as he says this last bit, and I flush and stare at the table in front of me rather than his face.
“Actually, one more note on this subject. Should any of you struggle to learn how to contain your thoughts and limit them to your person, I am qualified and willing to help you in this endeavor. However, I will also be able to tell if you do not need my assistance.” Now, his gaze falls on Arwen and then shifts to some of the other girls before returning to me.
Great. Is he suggesting what I think he is? For the other girls to not see him because he knows it would just be an excuse to be with him but that I might actually need his help? I slouch in my seat, hating that I, once again, feel inadequate.
“Rumor has it that the first out of all of the magical beings to ever exist was none other than a witch. Stories abound that the first human to rise above the stature of neanderthal was a witch. Does anyone know this witch’s name?”
“Kitia?” a female called out.
“No. She was the first witch known to have the power of creating potions and wrote the first grimoires, though. Any other guesses?”
“Alene?” a boy says from behind me.
“And we have a winner. Yes, Alene. Now, does anyone know what magic she possessed?”
I would have thought that most of the other witches would have long ago learned every detail about the history of witches, but considering that the students were calling out the different types of magic and none knew the correct answer, maybe I wasn’t as behind the others as I feared.
Mentor Magnus purses his lips and sighs. “Have none of you listened to your parents? Normally, my students know more than to merely guess on the first day.”
“If we were to know everything, that would make this course rather superfluous, wouldn’t it?” the girl sitting beside Arwen asked.
“Considering that storytelling can be warped over time, it’s important to learn how to shift from fact and fiction.”
I refuse to raise my hand.
“Mirella?” he calls.
I really hate that he can read my mind.
“You said rumors and stories abound about this Alene. How do we know that anything about her is true?” I ask, seeing no reason to hide what he can already see in my mind. He called on me because he specifically wants me to ask this.
“Yes, that is true, but how many of us were around when humans as a species as we are now first came into being? Time and history have a way of changing shape so no, we do not know for certain that Alene was real, but even if she was not, we can still learn from the stories about her, the first being to have the magic of the arcane arts.”
Mentor Magnus begins to walk back and forth. The girls in front turn their heads this way and that to follow him with their gazes even though they could do like me and just move their eyes.
Pathetic.
“Alene, as the first witch, had no choice but to marry a regular human, of course. Their children all had magic, though, as Alene’s gifts were rumored to be strong and powerful. Some say that she was able to hold the sun in place in the sky for three days.”
“Why would she do that?” a male asked.
“Because one of her sons, Estus, who could control the elements, nearly drowned the entire Earth, and she needed the heat from the sun to help to evaporate a great deal of water.”
“How could she control the sun if she had arcane powers?” I ask. “I’m sorry. I don’t really understand arcane abilities and what a witch can do with them.”
“Those with arcane powers can manipulate time, space, and even objects,” the mentor explains.
“To manipulate the sun…” I murmur.
“Rather unfathomable, yes, so perhaps that is not true and merely a story,” Mentor Magnus admits, “however, I choose to believe the story. I am of the belief that the witches of old were powerful enough to be considered gods and goddesses. Over the millennia, witches have married far too many humans or other magical beings and diluted our power.”
“Isn’t it possible for two witches to have a human child, though?” a male asks. “Which would suggest that the bloodline isn’t clean at all anymore.”
"Unless those two witches are descendants of pureblooded witches, there is a chance their offspring will be human. Who can say if any witches have zero human blood within them? Perhaps none but that does not mean witches cannot be powerful in this day and age. Quite the contrary. Every new potion witch is able to create new potions, just as every spell witch can create new spells. Magic is changing and evolving, and we must be vigilant about our history so that our future can be bright."
“Would you consider the Salem witch trials the darkest period for witches?” a female asks. At least she doesn’t sound all dreamy like Arwen and her friends.
“Actually, the Spanish witch hunts were far worse, far darker,” the mentor says. “Far more were accused of witchcraft, rightly or wrongly, and were tried for that ‘crime.’”
“I understand about the history of the witch trials and the burnings, but do we really have reason to fear the humans?” a boy asks. “Combined, our might is so great that we can stop their bullets, stop their weapons. We don’t need to be afraid of persecution anymore.”
The mentor smiles wanly. “It seems today has turned into a question-and-answer session, which is fine, but do realize that not every class will follow this format. Now, to answer your query, it is not a matter of whether or not we are stronger than the weapons of the humans or even the humans themselves. We have no reason to wish for exposure. History has shown time and again that the humans fear that which they do not understand, and magic they certainly will not understand.”
“But if we can show them, teach them—”
“They will only know fear at first, and that fear has proven deadly over the course of human history. Why should we risk our lives and for what? We are no better than humans, merely different. Remember, after all, some of the purpose of going after the evil witches and other magical creatures of the world is because we want the world to be safe for everyone, for magical beings and humans. We do not merely want to keep the humans ignorant. We want them to continue to live in ignorance, yes, but safely in that ignorance.”
A bell rang, signaling the end of class. Swiftly, I push forward through the throng of females making their way to the mentor. Already, the auditorium is filling with the next class by the time I reach Mentor Magnus.
“Yes, Mirella?”
"Ignorance is bliss, or so the saying goes."
“Precisely.”
“And for the humans, that’s undoubtedly true.” I hesitate and then add, “But are some witches ever kept ignorant? I mean, witches like me? My parents… I never knew I was a witch until Logan came to see me, recruit me for the school, and… I knew I was different, but I didn’t know how different…”
“It is possible for some magical beings to never realize their true potential, yes. Some never do know or recognize the extent of their powers.”
“So why me? Why was I recruited?” I blurt out.
“That I cannot say with absolute certainty, but I do have a theory.” He appraises me for a moment before nodding. “You have great power, Mirella. Someone realized this about you and believes you can be a great hunter. If you are willing to work hard and train and be capable of learning all we have to offer, you can do a great deal of good for the world. Your road will be harder than most. I will not deny that. Almost every other student here has had at least limited training previous to their enrollment. Just because you have not does not mean you cannot overcome and rise above.”
“Thank you,” I murmur. “I will do my best.”
"That is all we can ask of you. Oh, and that you are not late for your next class." He shoos me away, and I race out of there, feeling both elated and worried. Can I handle this heavy burden? Whoever is paying for my tuition clearly believes in me and thinks I can make a difference. I only hope I can do just that.