Underwater

Chapter 1: The Encounter

"The witches of olden times have all burned to the ground, Reina, but we've survived. Do you know why?" the elderly gentleman with slicked back salt and pepper hair asked the child in front of him.

"No, Grandfather," she answered obediently, her back straight and legs folded demurely beneath the long skirts she was forced to wear. They concealed the bruises she had gained from her grandfather's cane, a consequence of failing to keep her posture perfect. The excuse that she had been in that same stiffened stature for hours was not acceptable. No excuses were acceptable.

"Because we have always had a strong leader. An intelligent head of the family who knows what's best for his or her family – and has the magic to back it up."

"Yes, Grandfather," she said in his pause, knowing she was expected to answer.

"The responsibility is great. The head must never be someone who can break under this enormous pressure... But you understand this, don't you, Reina?"

"Yes, Grandfather."

"Are you someone who will break under the pressure, Reina?"

"At this moment I am, Grandfather," she answered. "But under your guidance I hope to become someone who will lead and protect this family with all of the nobility and prudence as you have," she said with all the wisdom of a nine year old, never once averting her gaze from the elder.

Her grandfather didn't smile. It was not something he could arrange his stern features into. But she noticed the twitch at the corner of his mouth. Her answer had pleased him. She showed none of the pleasure she felt of his approval on her face.

"And you shall," he answered.

Reina opened her eyes and sat up in bed, her back completely straight and shoulders back despite having just awakened. Maintaining that perfect posture was akin to breathing to her now. She barely noticed herself doing it.

"...bad dream," Reina commented, her tone downcast. She closed her eyes and took three deep breaths. As she exhaled the last one, she put all thoughts of her dream behind her. The twenty-year-old laid out her yoga mat and did some light stretching, as her morning ritual dictated. The silence of the one-room apartment was interrupted when she turned on her laptop and tuned into a news stream.

As she listened to the news piece about a recent robbery two neighborhoods away, she held her hand over a croissant. Her gaze was directed out the window as a sigil appeared under the saucer and the molecules that made up the pastry began to vibrate in place. Truth be told, Reina did feel a tinge of discomfort at using her magic for something this trivial. However, she also knew that her abilities would wane from disuse. Even though she had long lost her main reason for developing her proficiency in magic, she still couldn't quite bear the idea of letting the powers she'd suffered for go to waste. She repeated her heating spell with her cup of tea, even casting another spell to remove the tea leaves from her cup without having to use a strainer.

Reina tore strips off the croissant she had baked over the weekend, placing them in her mouth. The buttery taste suffused over her tongue and she nodded her approval.

Acceptable. She decided. She smiled wryly to herself as she thought of how her grandfather would react if he saw her then, nodding to herself with such indignity.

Irritation welled up at the bottom of her stomach at the direction of her thoughts. Reina had convinced herself that she had regained enough control over her own mind and emotions that she would no longer think about... that. It seemed she was more affected by that dream than she'd initially thought.