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Enchanted Psyche


A Tragedy occurs to her when least expected on the happiest time of her life, she breaks down in the end and travels to London to her late, mother's best friend, Madam Nadia Cain Hallows. Madam Nadia had always been a sister to Candelis' beloved, late mother, and an Auntie figure to her. But something wasn't right. Dark, deadly secrets just keep on flowing into her life from the Hallows and she embarks on a path that she never thought possible.


To my dear readers :) © Copyrighted to DarkMystique. All rights reserved.
Please Do Not Copy My Story; the plot and characters, etc. I Spend So Much Hard Work And Time Into My Stories And I Do Not Want Them To Be Stolen, Distributed And/Or Changed In Any Way Or Form. This Story, Plots, And Characters Belong To Me. Even copying tiny sections can be categorised as plagiarism. And Stealing Is Wrong: Reflect Upon That, Please.



I was walking down the bus station, pulling my suitcase along after me, as I scanned the almost empty area for somewhere to rest after the long walk from my home area. The bus wasn't here yet even though it was the right time, but I decided to sit down on my suitcase for a little while and 'till the bus arrived. But then I had to get back up as soon as had sat down, because my bus soon after turned a corner onto my main road.

I sighed, dragging myself as well as my suitcase, ready to get on when it slowed down and the double doors opened automatically. Heaved my heavy, but manageable luggage in - thank God there were two wheels I could roll it over and in with.

"Where off to, miss?" the bus driver, an old man with grey hair and beard, asked me with a wheezing cough. He was smoking.

"Er, to the," I coughed, "Manchester Train," and coughed again, "Station," I finally answered after coughing in the cigar's smoke; I waved it away from my face and blinked as tears sprang to my eyes because of the strong smoke.

He told me the price for the bus ride and I paid. "O'righ'," he said pushing some number buttons, on which was a small till, and passed me my ticket for the evening in the bus. " 'Ave a good ride."

"Thank you," I nodded with a small smile, tucking the small paper ticket in my jeans pocket, before adding, "You do know that smoking is prohibited on public busses, don't you?"

His wrinkly eyes darted on me unpleasantly. "You callin' meh a law breaker are, yer, li'l miss?" he demanded, which I had to reply back to agreeing, by which he retorted by, "Why don' yer go on off behin' an' sit down, lady?!"

I ignored his comment and took a seat, making sure that my valuables were safely within my reach of vision. I could still hear the old bus driver coughing as he continued to mumble to himself, "...Tellin' meh how ter run mah bus ... no smokin, she says ... oh, meh days..."

I shook my head at his back and watched the world pass my by in a haze of blurry images from the window.

"Hello," someone said.

I looked behind me to see an elderly woman holding a brown hand bag that had a furry hem to the opening. "How is a lovely girl like you traveling all alone, hmm?" she asked kindly.

I shifted around sideways; so my legs were over the side of the seat while my shoulders leant against the back of it. "Sorry?" I asked, not understanding why on earth she would want to know or talk to me.

"Why is a lovely young girl such as you traveling all alone, dear?" she asked.

"Accident," I answered monotonously, and strangely enough, the elderly understood somewhat.

"Oh, dear, dear, dear, I'm so, so, very sorry to hear your family's death, my dear," she said in a hushed voice; her old, trembling hand half covering her peach lipstick applied to her thin lips. "So sad."

"Hmm," I murmured quietly.

"Don't worry dear."

She must have to be in her late fifties or early sixties, with her truly wrinkled and droopy skin, and her slightly hunched shoulders and her hands folded protectively over her bag. She had wavy, curly light greyish-white hair that was cloudy and short. She wore no jewellery except for her wedding ring, a pair of pearl earrings and a pearl necklace neatly worn around her neck. She was wearing a long maroon, woolly coat, a pair of matching wool gloves with the section for the wrists in a maroon fur, and dark brown, flat shoes. "You're one fashion granny," I blurted out and slapped my hands on my mouth, my eyes wide in embarrassment of my words.

The elder women laughed understandingly, not insulted by my words anyhow. "Yes, my grandchildren call me that all the time," she explained lovingly, "but of course they don't mean it badly, and I know for sure that you didn't either. You just stated the obvious!"

I moved my hands away. "I'm sorry," I said.

"Don't be!" she said waving. "I am, 'Our beautiful fashion granny'. I'm going over to see my new born grandson! Oh, the feeling of being a grandmother all over again is so wonderful! I'm sure you'll be a wonderful mother in the future, dear!"

"Dunno 'bout that one, granny," I said smiling, "I burnt the toast twice this morning, and if I can't even feed myself properly I doubt I child would have a fabulous time with me as their mother."

"No, dear, don't say that. Every girl is already a mother within and so are you! Your time shall come too."

"Great," I said, none too committed.

"Give me your hand, both of your hands, dear," the old women said slowly.


"Take deep breath and put your hands on my palms," she said to me with her palm upwards, reaching to me over the back seat.

I twisted round awkwardly and rested my hands in hers with a strange sense of deep oblige. I felt warmth radiate from her, and I felt at ease. And from the look of her frail body, she had an exceptionally strong hold in her hands.

She closed her eyes. "You're someone who has a power within you," she begun telling me. "You're a part of something deep and dark, magical and beautiful..."

Magical? I asked myself mentally, Did I hear her right?

"...You're One of the Enchanted." The elderly opened her eyes with happiness and awe.

"I'm a what?" I asked wrinkling up my nose.

"Shhh, not so loud," she told me, and continuing after I nodded. "You're one of the Enchanted. You're gifted, my child. Your powers will rise from within you - you're genuine - the one we used to talk about!"

"Erm, okay, thanks," I said, but the old women was still holding onto me almost desperately, never letting go even when the bus slowed down. The last three people got up from their seats, exiting the bus.

"I have to go, my dear, and if the God has written our paths to cross once more, we shall!" she said to me passionately, still leaving me confused.

She suddenly gasped, her eyes squeezed shut.

"Hey ... you ... okay, Missus?" I cried, trying to ask her what was wrong.

Suddenly, the elderly lady's eyes shot open. "Greetings, my dear," a different voice - a stronger and surer voice - sounded from her lips instead of her soft, wobbly tone. Her eyes had started to glow yellow.

I moved back with a start and looked around; the bus driver hadn't noticed a thing. My hands were feeling like as if they were literally glued together with the old women's.

"I have come to send you a message for the near future," the voice continued, "Darkness will arise as predicted, in the foretelling for you, the Enchanted. You shall join with the other two and bond together the past had had lost. Your new future awaits you. Be aware. God bless you." The old lady's eyes went back to their normality and she smiled knowingly, letting go of my now cold hands and carefully got up from her seat.

I was gasping as I stared at her unbelievingly.

"I will be going now. What is your name my dear?"

"I - I - erm ... I'm Candelis," I answered numbly. I didn't feel threatened by her so I told her my true name.

"Perfect, strong name!" the elder leaned down and looked into my eyes. "And remember, dear, just because your name is connected to the dark ... does not make you, your soul, mind or your spirit dark. Understand, my dear, Candelis?"

"I - I guess."

"Fabulous, my dear..."

I opened my eyes to myself awaking. I frowned as I frantically looked around; I was sat forwards, the right way facing the front of the bus. There wasn't an elderly woman behind me; instead I saw no-body. I took several deep breaths, trying to calm myself. Passengers were looking at me warily so I busied myself in checking my shoulder bag and forced myself not to think of my dream. My eyes clouded over as my brain started to send in mental pictures in my mind, reminding me of the tragedy I was going through;

I awoke up in my bed after stirring restlessly and opened one eye groggily. I was sweating and my feet and thighs were burning with the hot ambiance, so I threw back the covers and decided to turn on the medium sized fan, which was sitting alone on the ground next to my bed. It was unplugged. I groaned inwardly and got up, swinging my legs on to cool surface of the wooden floorboards and hoisted myself up. I could still see the outlines of the furniture and everything. I brought the fan onto the dressing table and set it on the highest level. I felt the sweet, thankful feeling as the cool air surrounded me like a loose blanket. I blissfully lay back down onto my bed and closed my eyes. Soon I was half asleep, delightful, when I felt my body temperature slowly cooling down a little, which made it easier to fall asleep.

It didn't even feel like a minute more when somebody was yelling for me to wake up. I decided to ignore them, covering my head over with my red and gold coloured duvet.

"Come on, get up, it is half past nine!" My elder sister, Lisa, repeated to me.