And the World Doesn't Know

Only The Beginning

Plants were everywhere. Crawling down and out of the windows of the tiny apartment, which creates many complaints from the lower floors occupants. Succulents hung from the celling in glass terrariums. Herbs were over-flowing the copper herb rack in the kitchen, a constant reminder to Althea to buy another. The walls were unseen behind all the hanging racks of greenery. The plants reached out for more room, hanging there, until guided to a spot to rest on the crowded racks. Every shelf was lined with potted plants. Mysterious flowers on the window sill. Leafy greens on the bookshelves and tiny bonsai's on the shelving in the cramped bedroom.

This was the highest apartment of the nine floors of the Atrium on 153 East 32nd street, in New York. It's occupant, Althea Rosewarn is 19. None of the owners of the flats were quite sure of what her job was, or if she was even in university. She remained a mystery to each of the flats. She was very kind, but she was often described to have something off about her. A knowing glint in her eye. The way she always tuned out of exchanged pleasantries with neighbors. It was as if she was listening to another conversation. She didn't add up, the flats occupants murmured to each other as she strolled with purpose out of the foyer. She arrived back late at night, zoned out and sleepy, with her backpack full of books with strange runes inscribed on them. Her hair was always changing, braids one day, curling around her ears in a platinum bob another. Her face was unadorned by makeup, lips full and a soft pink colour. Her eyes were like a river flowing over a rock bed. She has light purple bruises under her eyes, unnoticeable unless you got close. She has a smattering of freckles that cover the bridge of her nose and the tops of her cheeks. She was small but, moves with the grace of having a greater knowledge and a soul much bigger than her body.

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Althea busied around her apartment, rushing up and down her stairs. The potted plants scattered in haphazard places, which made the apartment like a maze. She reached her room, floor covered in books. Their pages open to detailed pictures of plants. The descriptions, were written in what could described as looking similar to hieroglyphic's. There was something about them that seemed ethereal, out of this world. She shut the books, scanning the titles, trying to find the right book. She glanced over at her beside table, and there was the only book with a title in English. It sat, wedged in-between the neatly pruned bonsai's. The gold lettering shone in the early morning sun, Advanced plant magic. She grinned and crossed the room to scoop it up. It was a thick book, with many pages dogeared and paragraphs highlighted in an array of colours. She grabbed her backpack and made her way back down the stairs. She brushed her fingers against the leaves of all the plants she passed and smiled. She reached her kitchen, grabbed her wallet from behind a flourishing Dioscorea Elephantipes, and stuffed it into a bag. She walked to the door, hesitating. Dropping her bag, she rushed back upstairs to grab her favorite jacket. Her witch friend had charmed it to ward away negativity, so it was well-worn. She made it back to the door and whipped out her phone. She plugged in her earphones, started her favorite playlist and left the apartment.

Althea always enjoyed wandering the city, observing all it's occupants. The fey in the parks, having picnics. The warlocks spray painting the ally walls, with their magic only the abnormal could see the art. The lycanthropes running the dog clinic, helping sick and abused dogs. She saw an illusionist girl on the street, tricking crowds with shimmering lights. Althea paused for a second and watched her. She'd always enjoyed watching their magic style, it was so mesmerizing. She saw as a policeman noticed her busking and began to exit his car. He yelled at her that this is an illegal busking spot, she turned and ran, laughing wildly. Althea smiled and continued on her way. She finally reached her destination of a small coffee shop. She pushes open the door and the soft tinkle of a bell announces her entrance. The smell of coffee and spices swirl around the air and laughter surrounds her like a hug. This is her favorite coffee shop. Partly because the fey that run the place have a wider range of shots to add to her drinks. She also enjoyed it because it wasn't exclusive, the magic-less dined with the magic. Althea stepped up to the counter and was greeted by the fey girl who worked there.