“Please don’t interrupt.” Hannah hung her head for a second but the Alpha Female stretched out a cold finger and pushed up the young girl’s chin. For Hannah it was like rubbing against an icicle or snow, but the girl could tell that The Woman staring into her brown eyes had been a mother. When the lady spoke again, her voice was much softer like the sandpaper had been coated with cotton.
“A rare number of individuals on this planet have been blessed with the power of magic. For some-like me- it was a childhood curse and something neither of my parents possessed, for others it has been in their family genetics for years. Before this…association was set up, many of the Witches and Wizards of The World lead normal lives and, eventually, passed the trait onto some of their children, who passed it onto their children.
Unfortunately a percentage (you’ll have to go to the Magical Accounting Department for the proper statistics) of these Witches and Wizards weren’t happy with their ‘un-magic’ lives; they wanted to feel the full force of the power that is Magic. Therefore they started wrecking havoc amongst the non-magic communities; at first it was just the occasional weather change: hail on a summer wedding day, taunting bright sun during the hot June exam days…But then things started to get out of hand when their ‘fun’ started to cause injury-and in some dreadful cases death-to harmless people. Now, of course, these acts of Magical Misuse were not going unnoticed by the other Magic-Users; in fact, several of them had had chairs pulled out from behind themselves and ancient buildings of their village crumble to dust.
It was the last straw! One day a Wizard under the name Montgomery Feather, who had been living as a recluse in a town nearby to one wrecked by distraught, came into contact with a fellow wizard recluse, and he knew a whole community of Magic Folk who were sick of these unkind Magic users. They called them Black Wizards!”
“Jeez, that’s a lot to take in…” Hannah was overheating again, so she sipped her cola.
“I was in The Magical History Department before I rose to be Alpha,” Said the Alpha Female smugly.
“But now I’ve only just started. Wizard Feather formed a group (with the help of his recluse friend) who went about trying to sort out the Magical Misdemeanours of The Black Wizards and Witches. After a few years the group became well known between Magic Users, and therefore it started to grow. They adopted the name The White Witches to contrast the Black Wizards. –And before you ask, yes, a Witch is a female Wizard, but when in a mixed group, either can be used. It’s like the term ‘men’ when talking about humans in general, or ‘ils’ in French.”
“Okay…But where do you come in?”
“Where do we come in? We come into the picture because Wizard Feather was too vain to realise that forming a group of good Wizards to fight the bad ones would just cause more trouble amongst the non-Magical communities.
At the beginning of the 21st century a Witch who had been in-between their fighting for too many years, formed a new group. And this group was called…Hannah?”
“Oh!” Hannah was startled but soon reclaimed her decorum, “The Blue Witches!”
“Exactly! You’re catching on! The Blue Witches were formed to stop major collisions forming between the good and bad groups, and to stop anymore Non-Magical Users getting hurt. Sometimes we get hurt but the society reshuffles itself. Lately the Witch who formed this group suffered a tragic ‘accident’ when a large fight broke out over in Clapham, and I was elected to fill her place…Sad but true.
Well, that was all fine until now. The Psychic Department can see a bigger war coming. Something terrible. Something powerful. And now…we need all the help we can get, even if it means getting into the middle of the fight ourselves…”
The Alpha Female took a big swig from her Blue Juice to signal the end of her speech, so Hannah also drained her Coke.
“So…I’ve got The Gift? But how did I get it?”
“Genetics, like I said. You will have got it from your mother.”
There was a snort of laughter from Rebecca, who ran from the room after a rather nasty glare from the Alpha Female. Hannah had a feeling that something wasn’t right about her mother being a Witch but decided against the thoughts that told her the lady in front was lying.
Suddenly there was a light tap on the door and in walked a dark skinned 20-something-year-old wearing a blank white polo shirt and dark blue jeans. He had chocolate coloured eyes, coal black floppy hair, and when he spoke his voice was thick with a Spanish accent.
“Um…Mrs. S? He’s regaining consciousness…”
“Don’t address me!” ‘Mrs. S’ snapped at the Spanish Wizard and he slowly retreated. Hannah half expected him to walk out backwards, bowing.
“Well, Hannah. Let us go on a little tour, shall we?”
She stood, walked to the door, held it open for Hannah, then walked out herself.