Cast the Spell Into the Fire {Caitlin}

[Alessandro Darko]

It felt as though he had been wandering through the Realm of Eternal Fire for ages on end after his meeting with the Divine Flame. Acres upon acres of desolate “Fireplane”, ever-burning. Alessandro drifted idly, wondering if there was anyone else present. Any sentient being, or essence that he may come across, but none so far since the Divine Flame entity. After a while, he had thought he heard far off cries, echoing through the flames and attributed them to being the cries of the deceased. He had surmised that the Realm of the Dead lay somewhere near his current existence, if not closer than the mundane world. As he continued to walk, or whatever it was called in his current fiery form, he began to wonder whether or not he was going mad, that perhaps the voices and cries he was hearing were an onset of dementia of the mind. However, he thought, he didn’t have a physical embodiment to fall victim to such maladies anymore. The terrain on which he tread was hard and scorched, looking like blackened cobblestones with a white-hot, molten energy spewing in between the crevasses. Flames of great intensity billowed high into the air all around him, before him, behind him as he walked, though they had no impact on him as he now was some raw form of his element, shaped like his previous self.

As he pressed on, not really knowing why he went, for there was nothing to do to pass the time except wander, he noted that the flames began to slowly abate, and finally part altogether, revealing the very spot he awakened at; the “final resting spot” outside of Hogwarts. The castle looked destroyed over time, and completely engulfed in fire, pouring out of each window, writhing its twisty flames around the spires and towers of the rambling estate, its once gray, stony surface now a blackened, char-broiled exterior. As he turned to look behind him, it would have appeared that he just emerged from the Forbidden Forest, completely comprised of…fire, how ironic. Turning back to face the castle, he approached it, slowly at first, then quickening his pace as he felt compelled to look inside. Making his way to the nearest entrance, he passed through a portal of fire leading into the interior.

The contents of the castle were bathed in a fiery glow as everything inside was set ablaze. The distortion in one’s sight when they look near something burning was present, causing mirage-like waves to swarm his vision. Passing through the Great Hall, it struck a great sadness within him to see the house banners and tables blazing, memories from his sorting and all those fondly recalled meals at his house table filtered through him. He walked through the hallways, regarding the smoldering suits of armor, and the half fire-eaten tapestries that billowed in the fire’s heat. Something odd that he noticed was that none of the portraits were burning, as he recognized that the inhabitants perhaps would be screaming, but instead, each portrait was of a burning fire.

He found himself wandering on the upper levels, the fifth floor corridor to be exact. It was a place that had started everything for him. The day he bumped into Wysteria as she was being pestered by Peeves, to that lazy afternoon in which Keaira, Wysteria, and himself had conjured up a mini garden to bide the time. It horrified him to see that nothing was there when he rounded the corner, except a flaming corridor. With a frown on his face, he slumped to the floor with disdain and disappointment. When he looked up, he gasped, and his heart skipped a beat as he saw for a brief moment a flicker of something….normal. There was a field of vision that seemed to be untouched by the fire, Hogwarts as it was before he “departed”, and smack dab in the middle was Caitlin Collins. But it had come and gone within a heartbeat, and he was left wondering whether or not he was really starting to go mad.

“This is foolish…I’m going to go insane here…” He said angrily as he stood up, still looking in the direction of his “hallucination”. His voice sounded strange. It sounded raspy, and a bit blended, like there were two tones to it, and it seemed to linger even after he had stopped speaking. There was another flicker, and his eyes snapped back to it as quickly as he could, this time locking eyes with Caitlin, or so it seemed. Can she see me?? He thought as the sight was engulfed in flames again. What exactly was going on here? Was he seeing through realms?? Or perhaps he was crazy. Feeling like he had nothing really to lose from buying into whatever was happening, he called out for her.

“Caitlin!”

[Caitlin Collins]

In the time since Alessandro’s “death”, time had seemed to phase together into one big mush for Caitlin. She went from one day to another, fading in and out of conscious thought, just getting through and attempting to keep up her fake exterior so that no one would comment to much on it if her eyes happened to glaze over. It could have been three days, it could have been three weeks for all she knew. But she was fairly sure that there had been at least a couple of days without lessons, so it probably wasn’t three days. Although... maybe she just hadn’t turned up to the lessons. That was entirely possible. What did schoolwork have to do with anything anyway? From all she could make out, she’d be either dead herself or a murderer by the time she left Hogwarts. Any hopes of qualifying as a healer for St Mungo’s had gone straight out of the picture. That required good grades, something she was quite lacking on these days.

Caity wasn’t quite sure why or how she had ended up on the fifth floor corridor, but it was while she was there that she came out of one of those hazes. Perhaps she had just come out of a lesson, or was heading to a lesson, because she had a bag over her shoulder which was weighed down by books. Glancing out of a window to the right hand side of her, she saw that the sun had set already, bathing the corridor in a fiery orange glow. It was strange just how orange and fiery that glow was; she’d never seen quite so bright a sunset before.

Shaking her head slightly at her imaginings of flames dancing in the corridor, the thought of such things unsurprisingly directed her thoughts at one person in particular. She should have expected it, but still it hit her hard again. Alessandro was dead. He wasn’t coming back. ”...I’m going to go insane...” That also got her attention. Alessandro’s voice! She spun around, searching frantically but perplexed at the same time. He was dead, Keaira had made sure she understand that fact undoubtedly. So why was she hearing his voice?

And just as expected, there was no one else in the corridor. And his voice hadn’t sounded exactly right... more like, it was an echo. Alessandro’s sentiment of going insane starting to be reciprocated by Cait, until suddenly as she continued to glance around she found two fiery eyes staring right back at her. She stumbled backwards, totally confused at what she was seeing. A moment later, they were gone, but a voice sounded in her head.

”Caitlin!” His voice still had that echoing, raspy texture, and was very quiet. But it was him, definitely him. A few seconds later the eyes were back, accompanied this time by more of his body... all engulfed - or rather, completely composed of - fire. There was a white hot outline in the shape of a body that faded, and then was back, for longer this time before fading again. When the figure faded the majority of her vision went back to normal, showing an empty corridor bathed in not-so-bright sunset as she had thought before, but then the occasional flame would appear and then he would come back again. And when Alessandro... the figure... when it came back, the sides of her vision not engulfed in flame seemed to distort, as if from heat waves.

”Alessandro... you’re dead,” she whispered, not holding on to much hope that the figure would reply. It certainly did look like him... the shape she could make out, at least. And it had definitely been his voice that she'd heard, unless her mind was playing tricks on her with this whole thing. Maybe she did need more sleep... because there, he had disappeared again. Being confronted by what appeared to be a fiery semblance of a dead person; this surely could not be good for her sanity.

[Alessandro Darko]

Hope.

Noun: The feeling that what is wanted can be had or that events will turn out for the best.

Yet another glimmer of hope brimmed inside of the fiery being that Alessandro Darko now was. The Divine Flame inferred that he may be returning to the world, but did not give a time frame. He didn't even know if time passed normally in this new realm of fire. For all he knew, he could be looking into the past, or future, though, Caity looked to be as he remembered her, so it would either have to be the present, recent past, or recent future.

[red]It's important for you to show her.[/red]

Show her? Show her what? The voice of the Divine Flame resonated in his essence, and in a matter of seconds, the world went white. The white-out was caused by the divinity's interruption with Alessandro's consciousness as it seemed to take control of him, stimulating one of his visions.

The flames departed from around him, though he still remained aflame and Caitlin faded back into view as the flaming Hogwarts abated back to normal. He seemed to flicker in and out of view as his form rushed at her, now standing not more than a foot from her, no doubt she could feel the heat of his flame.

[red]"Caitlin Collins"[/red] His voice sounding unearthly, yet again, but moreso as he was under the influence of the Divine Flame. [red]"The pendant. The journal. Things are not quite what they seem. You have much to learn."[/red]

With that, Alessandro's arm raised, extending right in front of her face if she had stayed frozen in place while he relayed the message. He curled his fingers back and extended his index finger, pointing directly at her Third Eye chakra. His eyes were glowing a white hot light that made his composition look as if he were some demon of fire. In the next second, there was a blinding flash of light, that if everything went accordingly, Caitlin would find herself in the middle of one of Alessandro's premonitions.

After the light dissipated, Alessandro was nowhere to be seen.

He opened his eyes as he lay on the burning floor of the infernal Hogwarts, staring at a ceiling of fire. He was confused by what just had occurred. He just had a vision? One that concerned Caitlin Collins. But how? He was not a person anymore, how was it that he retained his psychic abilities as he was? The world of magic was vast and unexplained, and it was one thing he may never understand the boundaries of which.

[Caitlin Collins]

Caity reached out a hand and took a step forward, but the moment her foot hit the floor, he was gone again. It was Alessandro; she was sure of it! Although he didn’t look the same, his fiery vision was certainly fitting. And his voice was almost the same, just... raspy. Echoic. Except at the same time, she was equally sure that he was dead. It was a mystery, one she had no answer to, but was not going to lose him now. Not again... with that thought in mind she looked about for any sign that he was still there, or of where he might appear next. There was a sense of repeated loss every time he faded, reminding her that he couldn’t really be there, because she had seen him fall to his death. Or... burn to his death, would be more accurate. Which was still confusing that it could even happen, but she had at least partly accepted it now; at least so that she wasn’t questioning whether he could really be dead or not. Mostly because that line of thought was just painful – she could see in classes every day that he wasn’t there anymore. The headmistress’ announcement about how he had gone missing struck a severe chord when she had heard it, and she had not stayed for any food once the announcement was done. Instead she had gone walking around the castle, lost in her own thoughts as she had been for much of the time since his death.

Her hand dropped to her side again when the heat waves came back to the right of her vision where he had originally been standing, and she turned back. There he was once more, the body made up of flames now coming towards her. She stayed still, tensing the tiniest amount. Even though she was sure it was Alessandro, there was still so much she didn’t know, and having a burning figure walk intently towards you would make anyone feel a little nervous. And then he was standing right in front of her, so close she could feel the heat of the fire. Although it was still as if there was a bigger gap between them, because had she truly been so close to something burning so ferociously, the heat would surely be worse than this.

He spoke again in that rasping voice, except that it sounded less like him... had she been mistaken all along? And as she listened to what he said, she became even more confused. Pendant? A journal? What was he talking about? Of course she had lots more to learn still, she was only sixteen! It was all so ambiguous. The pendant question was quickly solved when one fiery arm raised and pointed at the necklace she always wore, hanging around her neck. She just about resisted moving back, but if it was Alessandro like she had originally thought, then she wasn’t scared of him. On the other hand, if it wasn’t him then she should be terrified. To be honest, she should probably be terrified anyway; she was being confronted by a burning dead person. But it was the elephant pendant her grandma had given her. Her hand snaked up to clutch the charm and she glanced down at it. A memory came back to her of a dream she had gone through a few weeks ago, about her grandma... and she had mentioned the pendant then, too! Caity had been told that she was not putting it to good use. At the time, she had just had the two thoughts on the matter; 1) how could you put a pretty yet useless pendant to good use, and 2) it was just a dream so it didn’t matter anyway. Even if the dream had seemed more realistic than usual.

Perhaps that was what this all was – a dream. It was definitely bizarre enough to be one. But it all felt so real, despite the surrealism. She could feel the heat from Alessandro, she could hear the sound of his voice so clearly, she could see... his eyes, as she looked up again, burning a white hot colour that hurt her own vision. She tried to look away again but she couldn’t get the image of his eyes out, and suddenly there was a bright flash that sent her vision completely askew as she fell to the floor in what would appear to anyone else passing by as a quite conclusive bout of unconsciousness.

Caitlin found herself standing in a familiar kitchen when the light faded enough for her to see properly. She remembered this place, in hazy memories when her grandma had been living there before they went to India, and in less hazy memories when she had accompanied her parents to the house after she had died. But from what she could see, someone was living here still... The last time she was in this room had been less than a year ago, and it had been empty. The last boxes had been taken away, and the person who had bought it was ready to move in tomorrow. She had stood there, trying to remember the place as it used to be... as it was now, for her. The kitchen appliances were all slightly yellowing due to their age, but working fine. There was the broken shelf cupboard handle that had never got fixed, despite her mum constantly nagging her dad to do something about it. To get into that cupboard, you had to open the opposite shelf door and reach sideways through. Through the window was the tiny garden with its bright flowers, and the swing that her little brothers was always using. But all that had been gone... and now it was back. Where was she? Or a better question, since she knew very well where she was, would be either when was she, or what was she doing here?

Blinking a little to rid herself of the dark spots Alessandro’s eyes had burnt into her vision due to the sheer brightness of them, she turned around and quickly stepped back in surprise when she saw herself sitting at the table right in front of her. A very young self, but it was definitely Caitlin Collins sitting in her grandmother’s kitchen, swinging her legs under the table with her shoes skimming the tiled floor as she did. Not a moment later, her grandma walked in too, carrying something in her hand. A nagging sensation of déjà vu helped tell Caity that this was one of her own memories, however faded, which must have been just after she had gotten her Hogwarts letter, then turned it down and decided to go to India instead with the rest of her family. It had been such a blur, that summer, that she had very few memories of that time. Just a hubbub of packing, last times of doing such and such, saying goodbye... This was just one of many times she had forgotten.

”Here it is, Caitlin. Something your great-grandma got for me when we were in India all those years ago. I’m sure it’s changed a lot for you now. Where did you say you were going?”

“Hyderabad, grandma. I told you earlier.” Younger Caitlin sounded slightly exasperated at her grandma’s bad memory... how was the woman ever going to be able to send letters to them while they were there if she couldn’t even remember the city? At least she had the country right, having been there herself when she was a child. In fact, her grandma’s frequent mentions of the place were probably what had made that particular country the place to go when her parents had decided to move abroad.

Hearing her younger self talk was strange, but not quite as strange as hearing her grandma talk. She hadn’t heard that voice in years, not properly. In the hospital she’d been so weak and hadn’t really been awake a lot anyway to say much. Unable to remember what exactly it was she was being given, Caity stepped forward to look over the table from the side as her grandma slowly sat down. Younger Caitlin also looked eager to see what this mysterious gift was from the country she was going to in few weeks time.

As the pendant was revealed, Caity realised that it should have been obvious to her what it was going to be from what Alessandro had said and that dream she had had... but that all seemed so distant now. The necklace looked a little dusty in her grandma’s hands – no doubt it had been kept in her loft for however many years it had been since she’d moved into a smaller house after her husband’s – Cait’s grandad’s – death from cancer. But other than the dust, which was quickly brushed away by younger Caitlin as she took the pendant, it still looked identical. There was no rust or anything of the kind... It was almost as if a protective charm was on it, because even now, around her neck, the necklace looked brand new. Not like it had been bought in another continent by her great-grandmother. But that was impossible, or at least very implausible, considering it had been bought by a muggle for a muggle... it must have just been made very well.

Her grandma began to speak again as younger Caitlin fiddled with the tiny clasp that didn’t want to undo, in a quieter voice this time. ”You know, your great-grandma used to be special too... just like you. But I wasn’t. And she always thought it such a shame, which is why she got me this... something to try and help make me special like her. But I think your great-grandad was a bit pleased. He was just normal as well,” she mused.

”Everyone’s special, grandma,” younger Caitlin informed her, preoccupied and not really paying a lot of attention. The 11-year-old was very much still a child, excited about going to a new place and taking it all in her stride, while also placating her parents’ wishes and going to visit her widowed grandma when requested. She couldn’t remember her granddad at all – apparently he had died when she was only three. All she could remember was being told that she wasn’t allowed to visit him because a hospital was no place for lively toddlers who wouldn’t do as they were told.

”I suppose so... but your great-grandma, she was very special. I remember when we were in India, she was always going off with this other man who’d come with us, an American. He’d come to the house we were staying in acting so frantic, and she’d go running off, apologising and saying she’d try to be back in time for tea. Dad ended up making it half the time, though.”

Caity had practically been able to see younger Caitlin’s ears switch off as her grandma went into nostalgia mode. But what she was saying... it was perking the real Cait’s interest. Special... did that mean what she thought it meant? That... her great-grandma had been... a witch? Did her parents know this? No, they had been genuinely stunned when the official had arrived with her Hogwarts letter. And if that was true, then had her grandma been a squib? And this charm was magical, in an attempt to produce some sort of magic in her? The last part that had been said she wasn’t entirely sure on, but it was bringing up an idea that surely couldn’t be right... it would be fair too coincidental. Or maybe it would just make sense of things... Either way, she listened in for more information as her grandma rambled on and her younger self continued to be tuned out as she fiddled with the necklace clasp.

”I liked that man, he could do special things too. He could do these special tricks with fire, and they were fantastic, I remember. Your great-grandma wouldn’t show me any tricks that she knew... said it was dangerous. Which is why it was so nice for me that he would, when she wasn’t looking of course. He told me a story, that he and my mother were doing important work... against evil creatures. Made it into a fairy tale, although sometimes I wonder if all of it was actually true. Except sometimes he or your great-grandma would come home hurt... burnt, usually. Or as if they had been fighting, with weapons. They would never tell me what was going on, but I could work out enough. We had gone to India because of them, and dad got so angry about it sometimes. I remember him telling my mother that we should just go home, to forget about the war... I don’t know what war he was talking about, but it was obvious your great-grandma was involved. Always arguing, and running off, and coming back hurt.

But then... that other man didn’t come back one night, like he always did. And my mother was upset... and then suddenly we were going back home, without any explanation. I was told to stop asking questions, but I heard her talking once to a stranger in the kitchen, saying that she’d had enough, that she didn’t want to fight any more. Dad was relieved, but she was so down after that time... Never really the same as she had been –“

”There!” younger Caitlin exclaimed, lifting her head and showing her grandma with a broad smile that she had actually succeeded in undoing the pendant’s clasp and affixing it around her neck where it hung, a tad long. The real Caity could have strangled her 11-year-old self for interrupting that spiel of information coming from her grandma about the past, but since she had no tangible form it made that a little difficult – not to mention that strangling a past version of herself would likely have all sorts of terrible effects on her own timeline. Not only that, but she had a vague recollection of the boredom she’d felt whenever one of her grandparents started going all nostalgic, which made the annoyance at herself all the stranger, as if it wasn’t strange enough already. But from everything she had heard, there was really not a lot of doubt... her great-grandma had not only been a witch, but also by the sounds of it, a Shadow Warrior of Fire – or at the very least, a lightfighter.

”Very nice, dear. You know, I remember when your great-grandma bought that pendant she bought her journal as well from the same person – a special vendor in the street. He handmade things – “

”Grandma, thank you for the necklace, it’s very nice, but I don’t need a history lesson...” younger Caitlin said in a half-moan, sliding back in her chair and pushing off from the table so she was balancing it on two legs.

”Caitlin, don’t do that! If you fall you’ll break your neck! And don’t interrupt either,” she continued once younger Caitlin had swung the chair back to its normal position to all four legs being placed firmly on the ground. ”I was just saying that your great-grandma bought her journal from the same place as that necklace, the one she wrote everything in while she was in India. The street vendor wouldn’t let her buy one without the other – said they went as a pair; they were linked or some such nonsense. But since I have the journal too, you can take that with you as well if you’d like.”

The hopeful smile on her grandma’s face won over even younger Caitlin, who nodded with a smile. That smile made Caity’s heart ache at the sheer carefree nature of it. She hadn’t smiled like that in a long time... and back then, she had had no idea of the kind of thing she would have to be facing in five years time. ”That’s great, grandma. I’ll keep it safe. Have you read it?”

”I’m afraid I haven’t, so I can’t tell you if it’s any good. I had some trouble reading it... nothing seemed to make sense when I tried. But I’m sure you’ll have more luck. Now wait there, I’ll go get that for you as well.”

Her grandma stood just as slowly as she had sat down to start with and made her way out through the kitchen door, watched by both Caitlins. But when the real Caitlin turned back to the table, she found her younger self’s eyes fixed on her... glowing white hot. The whiteness was there again, she couldn’t escape it, and then there was the bright flash. The kitchen disappeared, along with everything in it.

The white faded and Caity felt herself lying, eyes shut, on a very hard floor, with her hand wrapped around the pendant hanging from her neck as it always did. She kept her eyes shut to avoid seeing the black spots where those white-hot eyes had been in her vision only a moment before. What had happened then? Was that... a vision? Provoked by the vision of what she had thought to be Alessandro? One thing she was certain of – it was true. That memory was as clear as daylight in her head now, both from the point of view of herself when she 11, and from the point of view of herself in the vision just now. So her great-grandma had been a witch and a lightfighter... meaning, she wasn’t completely muggleborn. Not that that honestly bothered her at all anyway. But it was strangely comforting... she wasn’t the only oddball in her family.

But that journal... a journal of a lightfighter while they were actively fighting in the Shadow Wars... that had to be worth something. Except there was the one problem... 16-year-old Caity had absolutely no idea where 11-year-old Caitlin had put that journal once she’d received it. If she remembered correctly, there was a book she’d had with her in India that had been indecipherable, with an elephant on the cloth cover. That had to be it... but where was it now? She needed to find it, had to work out where it was. Not only just for the pure knowledge that it would have on the Shadow Wars, but also as confirmation, and proof. That she wasn’t just useless, there was a true reason she had been chosen as a Shadow Warrior in this rather than some sick joke made by whoever chose the lightfighters. And with everything that had been said to her, it was hardly surprising she had some insecurities about her place in the group.

Then there was the matter of Alessandro. She was certain that it had been him engulfed in those flames, at least at the start if not the end as well. She had thought he was dead, but he hadn’t seemed particularly ghost-like. She had never seen a non-transparent ghost with flames sprouting out of their body before. So it had to be something else... just what? She guessed she would have to ask the other lightfighters, but that wasn’t something she was too keen on doing. She really didn’t like being shot down the moment she said anything – it just created this horrible feeling inside of her that she wasn’t quite sure how to define. And anyway, how had Alessandro known about the pendant? And the journal? Was he a telepath, like Keaira and Dee, and had found that memory hidden away inside her mind where even she couldn’t find it? Caity was insatiably curious at times, and this was certainly one of those times. There were just so many questions, and so few answers. So she’d just have to start somewhere... and locating that journal seemed like an excellent starting point.

Slowly her eyes opened, blinking as they had done before to obliterate the black, eye-shaped spots in her vision. This floor really was very uncomfortable. She sat up gradually though, knowing how lightheaded getting up too quickly could make her feel... especially since she didn’t actually know the last time she had eaten. Perhaps that would be a better starting point than gallivanting off to find a lost journal that for all she knew, could have been left in India. Food, and rest would be nice... and then she could really start thinking about where she had put that book.