The Hatching
it’s been almost a week since cassidy’s second run-in with the doppelgänger, and the subsequent awakening of her magic. she hasn’t activated her powers since then- not consciously, at least. she did wake up to a crowd of her own eyes staring down at her the other night… she didn’t get to sleep so easily after that.
it’s early morning as she trudges through the hallways of the academy, cracked egg hugged safely to her chest and backpack stuffed with amethyst shards and lavender repurposed from the hatching campfire. it’s time to catch up with the rest of the academy.
the ritual room is dim and devoid of students when she peers through the door. the teacher of this class isn’t here yet either, but that’s barely inconvenient. she just has to follow the instructions of the book the feles students gave her, right..?
she sets the egg down carefully on the table in the centre of the room and begins preparing the ritual circle.
once every candle is flickering bravely and the amethyst, hay, and meat are arranged neatly, she takes a breath and places the egg down in the centre of the arrangement. it’s hard to pull back from it- since awakening, the cracks in the egg seem to pull at her fingertips like there are magnets beneath her skin. she tugs her hands away and the tingling sensation fades. she blows out a breath and strikes the flint and steel, stepping back as the sparks scatter onto the quartz altar and the room erupts in light.
when she lowers her arms from shielding her face, sitting on the altar table is… well, she supposes it could be called a dragon. it has scales, and lizard-y wings, and it certainly feels magical— but really, it looks more like a bird. she takes a cautious step closer and the bird-dragon (wyvern?) makes a distressed little chirrup noise that makes cassidy’s chest tighten. she rushes over and gathers it into her arms without thinking. a tingling sensation builds up under her skin—similar to how she felt before awakening, but warmer and more comfortable—and bubbles over into a feeling of safety as the wyvern tucks its beak into the hollow of her shoulder and chirps softly. home, her bones sing. this is what home feels like.
she can’t tell if the thought is her own.
[ability awakened: Kaleidoscope]
