Morning intruded through the open slats of Zoë's blinds. She winced at the assault of light, cursing herself for forgetting to close them before she hit the hay.
She waved her hand toward the blinds, feeling the familiar tingle of power as she made a closing motion with her hand. The blinds obeyed, rolling themselves shut.
"Much better," she mumbled, settling back down onto the pillow.
Her eyes snapped open a moment later.
"How the hell did I do that?" She sat bolt upright in bed, her thoughts racing.
The previous night's events raced through her mind. The stone her wish
She smiled broadly. Magic or as it was more properly known, magick was real! Tangible, and firmly a part of this world!
Zoë remembered details about the world she created. Her special classes, designed to help promising will-workers hone their skills. Warnings on the news about "High Mana Days" that might make spells more powerful than intended. Reports of magickal tampering in a Detroit auto plant to cover up safety violations.
She cheered in delight. This was a dream come true! She loved movies, books, and role-playing games about a world filled with magick. It's part of the reason she dedicated herself to Wicca.
She threw on a bathrobe, reveling in the feel of her own inner power. Mr. Goldsmith had called her a prodigy; his Thaumaturgical Studies class was her favorite. Zoë felt it with the slightest concentration. She was indeed a powerful witch.
A raise of her hand brought the stone through the air to her open palm. She grasped it gently, kissing it in appreciation.
