Chapter 0.06
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It was time.
Cassandra had no idea how successful she’d be. Her parents seemed rather intent to hide everything from her in this particular instance, and she could only hope that asking, once again, what all this was about would get her somewhere new. She needed to know what was going on. She lived here too, after all, and she wasn’t as young as Alexander so there was no reason to keep things from her like this when it affected everyone that lived here.
Instead of going in the second she got home, she stood outside in front of the house by the gate, waiting. Bella always came home first. Most likely, she’d be the one Cassandra had to deal with, and she thought she was ready for it. Neither of her parents were terribly obsinate, to be fair about it. They had their moments when they really put their foot down, but it was usually for much better reasons than Cassandra asking questions they weren’t ready to answer.
She’d admit, at least, that it was possible they weren’t ready to answer, and she may not be ready for the answer. At this point, though, things were going so weird all the time, Cassandra almost didn’t care.
She paced a little, waiting. It wasn’t too long before Bella’s heels came clacking up to the gate. “Did something catch on fire?” she asked, shifting her weight from one leg to the other.
Cassandra shook her head. “No,” she said, fidgeting with her sleeve. Her mother never yelled at her or Alexander. Bella had other ways of getting her point across without raising her voice, and Cassandra envied that. She hoped, if ever she had children of her own, she could replicate that ability. It’d certainly served her mother well over the years, and Cassandra had no doubt it would also serve her very well.
“What’s wrong, dear?” Bella asked, breaking Cassandra’s wandering thoughts.
She tried not to fidget too much. “Well, I’m almost eighteen now,” she said, her tone uncertain and soft. Bella frowned slightly. “And, I think I’m old enough to know when something’s going on around the house.”
Oh. Bella looked slightly annoyed, but she didn’t argue any.
“So, what’s going on? People don’t normally have their entire house’s appliances break overnight.”
Of course that was what she wanted to know. Well, Bella and Mortimer had intended to tell her the truth sooner or later anyway, she supposed now was as good a time as any. Except it was crappy timing. That wasn’t Cassandra’s fault, certainly, but it still managed to annoy Bella just a bit. “We’re spellcasters,” Bella said, flatly.
“I’m sorry, we’re what?” Cassandra asked, taking a step back, one hand raising to her chest in surprise. What was she talking about?
“Spellcasters,” Bella replied. “Most Sims know us as witches or whatever. The rumours that the Goths have ties to the occult, they’re not entirely wrong. Actually, the Goth family helped found Magic Realm many generations ago. You’re practically a princess over there.” Almost, but not quite, and as Mortimer liked to say, almost didn’t count.
“Oh.” Cassandra paused for a moment, her gaze falling to the concrete sidewalk. “So, why is everything breaking?”
“We think,” Bella replied, “that someone’s cursed us. Of course we can’t prove that, and even if we could, curses are difficult to fight, sometimes.”
“Curses are a thing,” Cassandra whispered.
“Of course,” Bella answered. “You can get a few of them just by messing up your spellcasting too much, actually.”
Wait, if spellcasters existed, and if her mother was to be believed, they did, then so did magic. Magic existed, what was she even supposed to do with that knowledge? Cassandra looked confused, one of her eyebrows raising in disbelief. One hand raised to her head, the palm of her hand pressing against her forehead.
“Oh, wow…” That was a lot to handle. Being honest about it, Cassandra wasn’t sure what to do with it. How did she even begin to process this? And she was a spellcaster, too? That meant she could do magic, presumably, if spellcaster was equivalent to witch. “So, you and dad are…?”
“Yes,” Bella replied.
“So Alexander and I are…”
“Mhm.”
“Oh… wow…” Cassandra repeated.
Bella snorted softly. “Mortimer wants to pretend this isn’t happening,” she said. “I want to pretend this isn’t happening. You and your brother are dormant for now, you’ll gain your powers later, but right now we’ve got bigger problems, and it’s probably a piece of plumbing.” Bella had been making talismans and amulets like she’d said she would. With that in mind, she reached into the pocket of her slacks, and pulled a pendant out of it, holding the necklace out to Cassandra by its chain. Cassandra hesitantly took it.
“What’s this?” she asked, turning the crystal over in her hands. It was wrapped in blackened wire, attached to a dark chain. Though she could barely tell in the sunlight, it looked like it was sparkling from within.
“It’s a protection amulet,” Bella answered. “It’s a fairly popular one in Magic Realm. I stopped by Caster’s Alley to get a few crystals to make a couple. We’re not entirely sure what exactly we’re up against, and neither of us can prove or disprove it is what and who we think it is, but it can’t hurt to be too careful. Don’t talk to strange people on the street you don’t know, especially if they seem to like purple. You’re a smart girl, you’ll know who to avoid, I’m sure.”
Cassandra wasn’t. A protection amulet, her mother said, like everyone got one of those for their eighteenth birthday. (It probably wasn’t a birthday gift, but it was still strange.)
“Okay,” she said. Truthfully, Cassandra wasn’t sure what to say. How was this even fair? She’d expected something normal like the house was old and they were running out of money, or the plumbing was messed up, or something, but not this. Never, ever this.
“I have to go call the repair company again,” Bella grumbled, looking at her phone. “One of the toilets broke, again.” Bella cursed under her breath, moving the front gate out of her way and stalking into the house.
Cassandra gazed at the pendant her mother had given her. It felt warm to the touch, and had a strange feeling to it. Almost like it was saying hello. She smiled slightly, putting the necklace around her neck and fastening it. It added a comforting weight to her collar, and she felt like she could get used to it.
Maybe she was a spellcaster. It felt like she’d waited her whole life to meet this pendant. What a strange feeling. She looked uncertain for a moment, and then turned and went into the house. Maybe she’d hide in her room for a bit, and figure out how she felt about this.
* * *
Bella couldn’t help the nerves. Cassandra had been in her room all day with the door closed. She hadn’t tried opening it, but Bella wasn’t so certain she wanted to. Teenagers that were annoyed by being interrupted by something or someone could be rather the vicious force when they chose to be, Bella knew that very well. Instead, she occasionally peeked at the door to see if Cassandra had opened it, and then went back to working on the research she was doing for work.
Was she too blunt? Bella wasn’t sure what the best choice might’ve been at the time. She probably should have been a little less flat about it. And Cassandra likely had questions, questions that only Bella and Mortimer could answer for her. On the other hand, that was a lot of information to process, and it had all been dumped in her lap rather instantly and without any warning. Bella was mentally kicking herself.
The five hundredth time Bella got up to look at Cassandra’s door, and then go back downstairs, Mortimer sighed and set the newspaper he was reading down. “Bella, love,” he said. “What are you getting up and sitting back down constantly for?”
Bella blinked, and then made a concerned expression. “Cassandra’s not come out of her room since she got back from school,” she explained. “I’m just worried.”
Mortimer sighed, though he understood well enough. Bella had somewhat gone off on a blunt tangent earlier when Cassandra had asked what was going on at home. He couldn’t say her concern was unfounded, and Bella was a very family-leaned woman. If things weren’t quite right at home, then she couldn’t seem to settle down.
“It’ll be okay, Bella,” he said. “We intended to tell her the truth soon anyway.”
Bella snorted slightly. “Yes, but probably not so gracelessly and bluntly. I had an entire speech thought up in my head I was going to go through, you know, not just dump it all in her lap like that. Sure she’s almost an adult now, but it’s just so much and I know that.”
Mortimer’s eyebrows raised for a moment, and then he shrugged slightly. Perhaps they should have told the kids about their magical heritage much sooner than this, raised them with the knowledge like his mother had insisted, because it would’ve been better in the long-run. Certainly, it would’ve been far less shocking when they reached this point, and Mortimer had always known they’d be here someday. Bella had to have known too.
“Cassandra’s more level-headed than most teenagers,” Mortimer said. “She just needs time to parse it, that’s all. It’s a lot to deal with. Magic is real and you can do it isn’t something most Sims her age expect to be told.”
No, Bella didn’t imagine they did. “Do you think she’ll hate me?” Bella asked in a small voice.
Mortimer frowned. “Is that what you’re worried about?”
“I turned her whole life upside down, Mortimer,” Bella said. “It seems logical to me she might resent me a little.”
“Oh love, no,” Mortimer answered, shaking his head. “You’re her mother, and you’ve always meant the best for her. Of course she won’t hate you. Just be honest about those intentions and tell her the truth of why we hid it for so long. Answer her questions, be open, and remember what it was like to be her age and unsure of yourself. That’s all it takes, you know that, Bella.”
Did she? Maybe once she did, but it felt like steadily she’d forgotten what it was like to be young and uncertain. Had Bella ever truly been young and uncertain? There had to be a time when she was just that, but at the moment, Bella couldn’t recall that time. Bella wasn’t quite so young as she looked. Simply put, she was vain and very good at crafting youth potions. Mortimer had decided to forego them, but it wasn’t like he didn’t wear his age well, so Bella had no complaints.
“I’ll bet tomorrow Cassandra’s downstairs making breakfast like she always is,” Mortimer said. “And she’ll talk to us like nothing has changed. We can’t force her to talk, love. This is something she’ll need to come to terms with on her own in her own time. Just have patience, and faith.”
Bella wasn’t always known for her patience, but it was a virtue she had when she wanted to. Bella sighed, smiling a little in his direction. She was so glad to have him with her, and honestly, she didn’t know what she’d do if he wasn’t here anymore. Someday that was inevitably a reality they’d all have to face, but in the meantime, she was going to enjoy not having to panic silently to herself. He was pretty good at sorting out the mess in her head and stilling the chaos.
“How do you do that?” she asked, her voice almost a purr.
Mortimer laughed a little. “I know you very well,” he said. “You do the same for me from time to time.”
She couldn’t remember when, but if he said so, she’d have to believe him. Bella had no reason to doubt him, anyway. “I guess I do,” she said. “Well, since Cassandra’s apparently not coming down for dinner, maybe we should think about ordering takeout.” It was either that or Bella was going to try and cook something. Or Mortimer could attempt to fire up the grill, but the weather had turned cold and rainy. Autumn was here, and it wasn’t going to be terribly quiet about it, it’d seem.
Mortimer nodded. “That’s probably for the best,” he said. “Alexander?” he called.
“Yeah dad?” The boy was in the hallway playing with one of his toys.
“How’s pizza sound?” Mortimer asked.
“Really?” They never got pizza at the Goth house! (If Alexander had to guess, it was because most of the pizza restaurants in the area refused to deliver to the Goth residence, and the few that did were far and demanded high delivery charges.)
“Sure,” Mortimer answered. “Do you want cheese pizza?”
“Yes! Thanks mom and dad!” Alexander then ran down the hall squealing and telling his toy dinosaur all about their getting pizza.
Mortimer glanced at Bella, looking amused. “At least one of them’s happy.”
* * *
It was a quiet day, and one of Mortimer’s days off. Bella had to work today, and Alexander had gone off to the park not far away. He enjoyed playing on the jungle gyms, and the Goths unfortunately didn’t have the backyard space for one of their own, but the township of Willow Creek had several of them scattered around the different neighbourhoods. Mortimer knew the neighbours would keep an eye on him, and he appreciated it. Especially when his latest book was a week late.
It could’ve been worse, he was sure, but as of now, he couldn’t think of how. He focused on writing, spreading his notes and papers all over the dining room. He knew what he was supposed to be doing with the story, but unfortunately, getting the story where it was supposed to be was proving to be a mild headache. It made more sense for his characters to want to do something else, which his editors likely would not be fond of.
It would be nice if he had as much power over his works as he liked to pretend he did. Unfortunately, he didn’t, and his editors had more say over how his books turned out than he’d like. It was all about marketability, or so they always said. He knew it was horse manure, but whatever made them feel better about it.
He was so caught up in his work that he didn’t hear Cassandra finally come down the stairs. She took one look at the papers strewn around the dining room, and decided that navigating them without tearing any was going to be more of a pain than she felt like dealing with at the moment. Instead, she stayed in the hallway, watching him. Eventually, she cleared her throat.
Mortimer looked up at the sound, and smiled. “Hey pumpkin,” he greeted. “You must be hungry. We ordered pizza last night, there’s still some leftover if you’d like.”
“Thanks daddy,” Cassandra replied. “I uh. I was hoping we could talk, but if you’re busy I can -“
“No, no,” Mortimer interrupted, gathering up all of his papers into a neat pile again. “I’ve always got time for you, come on, sit. What’s on your mind?” Most likely, there were a lot of things on her mind, and Mortimer knew that. It was okay though. She could be a little lost for a bit, he could be patient and explain things if she needed, answer questions, or they could talk about something completely unrelated. It was all up to her.
Cassandra settled down in a chair, looking a bit uncertain, but eventually she breathed in. “I asked mom about everything breaking,” she said.
Mortimer nodded. He looked unsurprised, so Cassandra assumed Bella had mentioned it to him.
“Was she serious?” Cassandra asked. “She said we’re spellcasters.” Sometimes Cassandra believed her, and other times she wasn’t sure what she believed.
Mortimer had a feeling this was coming, so he tilted his head to the side a bit. “She was,” he answered. “We are spellcasters, yes.”
“Oh wow.” That seemed to be the only thing she could think at this revelation.
“I know it seems like a lot,” Mortimer said. “But you come from not one, or two, or even three, but four very powerful spellcaster bloodlines. My mother, your grandmother Cornelia, was a Crumplebottom. Most of her relatives are spellcasters, they’re known for discovering and researching magical plants and which animals can be bonded as familiars. The Goth family helped found Magic Realm, just as the Crowleys did, your mother’s side has Crowley blood. Finally, your mother’s also a Bachelor, and the Bachelor family are known for their alchemical advancements. The Goths refined untamed magic, and the Crowleys refined practical magic.”
“There are different kinds of magic?” Cassandra asked, choosing to focus on something that was a little less mind-boggling.
“Yes,” Mortimer said, nodding. “There’s untamed, practical, mischief, and alchemy. Alchemy deals exclusively in potions and tonics, not spells, so it’s a little more of a hands-on deal. Your mother’s very good at alchemy, no one makes a potion better than she does. I take after the Goth side of the family, and I’m working toward mastering untamed magic.”
That was a number of branches. What was the difference…? No, that was a silly question, wasn’t it? It was obvious if you paid attention to the names. Alchemy was all potions and such, so most likely, mischief magic caused effects that weren’t really intended to cause harm, just stir up some trouble. Then, practical probably did things like repair objects and clean things. So what was untamed? “What’s untamed magic do?” Cassandra asked.
“Starts fires and calls down lightning,” Mortimer answered. “It’s the branch to master if you intend to become a skilled duellist. All the best magical battlers are untamed spellcasters.”
“There’s no reason for that, right?” Cassandra asked. “Battling other spellcasters, there’s no reason to do that, right?”
Mortimer’s lips flattened into a line. He wanted to abate her concerns. He wanted to tell her that it was okay not to know anything about battling other spellcasters, that she’d never have to defend herself against a fellow caster, but that simply wasn’t the case. “Things are complicated in Magic Realm, Cassandra,” Mortimer said, choosing his words carefully. “The Realm used to be peaceful and its people used to live in harmony, but there are darker things at play in the shadows now, the people have ulterior motives and secrets. It’s not hostile, but with the loss of the major magical lines in the Realm, it’s begun to fall apart and the spellcasters can’t decide how to fix it. Cassandra, as soon as you can, change your last name. Whatever last name you want, you don’t even have to take it through marriage, just change it.”
Cassandra considered this for a moment, and then tilted her head. “Why?” she asked.
Mortimer smiled at her, reaching across the table to pat her hands. “With any luck,” he answered, “you’ll never know.”
