The Contest

Chapter 1: Willow DeLaughery

Under normal circumstances, I would find this utterly ridiculous.

I'm being sent into the marketplace while my sister gets to stay home and help Mother choose her dress. Usually, it would hardly seem fair to me, but I remind myself that this is no menial errand.

I brush a few loose curls out of my face and continue walking, clutching a small basket in my hand. As I reach the marketplace, I can see that everyone is bustling with what I can only assume to be both excitement and nerves. I smirk to myself at the energy everyone has and my eyes fall on the small stone building in the corner of the square and I begin to make my way through the crowds, muttering apologies as I weave between people. I am almost through the swarm when a random person backs into me, oblivious to my presence, and causes me to stumble into someone behind me. The person is fine, but their items scatter to the ground, landing just outside the mass of people.

Immediately, I begin apologizing and sink to my knees to assist them in gathering what they had dropped. I reach for something that glimmers in the morning sun and stop when I see what it is.

A small ring with a silver band and a white gemstone set into it. I am intrigued and lean in closer to examine the ring, but before I can get a better look at it, the owner snatches it from the ground and slips it into a small pouch. I glance up at the person for the first time since bumping into them.

A young lady, no older than me, looks as though she is on a mission. Her eyes are a striking shade of blue that seem to hold a permanent icy glare. I feel a sudden cold chill overtake my senses and I shiver as I continue to observe her. She has pulled her long raven black hair into a loose braid in what seems to be an attempt to appear normal, but I can see that she has other intentions.

I stand to hand her the items she dropped, and she gives me a once over, but she simply says, "Thank you, miss," and disappears into the crowd. I stare after her for a moment before remembering why I had come to the market. I turn to face my destination and regain my composure, then head into the small building.

The shop is quiet, and I see only a few people browsing the selection of fabrics. A young man with blond hair looks up from his inspection of clothes and shoots me a kind smile, which I promptly return. In the corner by the window, a mother is examining sewing equipment. Her son, hardly older than eight, grows impatient and tugs at her skirt. I hear the woman say, "Just a moment, dear, I'm almost finished."

"Mother, you said that five minutes ago!" the boy whines. I laugh quietly to myself as I walk through the open door to the back office. My grandmother sits in her chair, knitting away at something. I shake my head with a grin and place the basket at her feet.

"You really should be keeping watch over your customers, Grams," I say. She glances up at me and replies, "That would be why the door is open, dear," before reaching down and picking up the basket. She opens the top and looks inside, most likely making sure what she asked for is there.

"I had to look everywhere for it," I tell her, lowering my voice. "You hid it so well, it was nearly impossible to find."

She smiles knowingly before closing the basket and setting it back on the floor. "Well, we wouldn't want your mother finding it before we had a chance to use it, now would we?"

"Can you please explain why this book is so important?" I ask, tired of being in the dark. I busy myself with cleaning an extra chair, which is currently occupied with a large stack of fabrics and patterns.

She sets aside her knitting needles. "We've been over this, Willow," she says, though she doesn't sound irritated in the slightest. It isn't really her nature to be. I see where I get my patience.

"Well, can we go over it again? Because I don't understand," I sigh, tidying the desk for a place to put the items from the chair, then moving said things to the desk. Grams takes the basket again, this time pulling out the leather bound book and opening its cover.

"Willow," she begins in a soft voice, but holding enough importance in her tone to keep me attentive, "this book contains the key to the powers you possess."

"Really? I can actually learn about my powers?" I exclaim in excitement. I watch a look of surprise take over her features. My eyes widen in fear and I freeze in place as I realize what I just said. I'd known about my powers for years, but I'd never told Mother or Grams, for fear that they would think of me as abnormal. I can't believe I let my knowledge slip in front of Grams after I'd managed to hide it so well for five years.

"You know about your powers, child?" Grams questions in a harsh whisper. Hesitantly, I nod, not fully knowing if she's okay with this fact or completely livid that I never told her. To my complete surprise she smiles brightly and murmurs, "Well, it's a good thing you've got a head start then."

I let out a breath I didn't realize I was holding and relax, taking a seat in the now clean chair. Grams turns to a page in the book and says, "See that candle on the corner of my desk?" I turn to where she is referring and nod. "Show me what you can do."

I am taken aback by what she says. I glance back at Grams with a confused look, but she simply nods in encouragement. Instead of returning my gaze to the unlit candle, I focus instead on a small potted plant on the windowsill on the opposite side of the room. With a quick upward sweep of my hand, the flower-- an orange tiger lily-- grows to be at least a foot taller than it previously had been. Its petals glow brightly, almost enough to outshine the sun streaming in through the window.

Grams lets out a shocked gasp as her hand flies to her heart. Slowly, I turn back to her, biting my lip nervously. There is a long silence as she just stares at me, her jaw dropped and her amber eyes scanning me almost fearfully. I feel tears prick my eyes as I realize the meaning of this look.

My grandmother is afraid of me, and I have no idea why.