Ten

My tongue was tied as I stared at my aunt. Her lively summer dress and perfectly styled hair were contradictory to the words leaving her lips.

Magic, let alone dark magic, still seemed so foreign. It didn't help that the only proof I had was the demon permanently bound to me. I had yet to see it for myself, let alone knowingly cast it. Perhaps this was all a hallucination from the stress and trauma I had endured when my parents died.

I shook my head as I debated reality. The cup in my hand began to tremble against the saucer it was on as I began to shake. The sound of the porcelain clicking together filled the room.

"Are you telling me that my parents thought I would grow up to be evil?" It was both a compliment and an insult at the same time. To be so powerful that I would be a threat, and yet, so untrustworthy that they would hide my powers from me, even as a baby.

None of it made sense to me. How could you take a gift like that away from your own child? How could you not trust y