Chapter 1: Understanding Willow
Summary:
An old folk custom from the Savage Ages still remains in the Boiling Isles. By mixing potion and oracle magic, every magic user can find their soulmate by writing on their arm with a special ink during the new moon. When young Amity and Willow try writing to their future soulmates together, the lack of any response plunges them down diverging paths.
Notes:
Wrote this and parts of chapter 2 and 5 on my phone during a long airplane flight today.
Edit: Apparently, I mixed up chapter notes vs notes on the entire fiction, so fixing that. Also, a minor edit for continuity with later chapters that the fountain pen given to Amity by Willow's parents is not a metal pen but looks like a Japanese glass dip pen.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
The last years of the Deadwardian Era had been marked by chaos, with entire villages lost by large conflagrations. The devastation was supposedly caused by uncouth witches mixing different types of magic and incurring the wrath of the Titan. Despite having physically passed and its bones now forming the Boiling Isles, it continued to keep watch over its children and inhabitants from a dimension known as the In-Between.
None had succeeded in speaking to the Titan via the In-Between until Emperor Belos, who declared himself a prophet sent to save the Isles from self-destruction. With that mission, he revealed the Titan’s decree that all magic should be divided among the nine covens. With the help of nine founding Coven Heads, Emperor Belos succeeded in bringing an end to the Savage Ages.
The Boiling Isles were now a mostly peaceful land where witches and demons coexisted. The lands formed from the remains of the fallen Titan had finally been united under a single ruler. Society now had formal structure and an educational system in the proper use of magic. Witches now were able to “hocus focus” and studied a single track of magic and achieve mastery of their specialty. To avoid angering the Titan inadvertently, all magic practitioners received a coven sigil upon coming of age, sealing away their ability to mix different types of magic. Those who refused to join a coven were deemed wild witches and were shunned by society. Most were caught and sent to the Conformatorium, while a few more resourceful wild witches turned to trading contraband in the night market.
A small handful of magic users who demonstrated exceptional loyalty to the emperor or dedication to their studies were allowed to join the Emperor's Coven. Due to their perceived unlikelihood of angering the Titan, these witches could use multiple types of magic separately. Although mixing two types of magic within the same spell was strictly forbidden, the advanced knowledge of the coven scouts allowed them to face any disruptions to the peace now found on the isles.
Some folk customs remained throughout the Isles that still relied on some elements of wild magic. One such custom was the practice of finding one’s soulmate by writing on one’s arm with a special ink potion. It was said that this potion used oracle magic to allow the user to connect to their future love via a gap within the In-Between that opened during the new moon each month. Young witches and demons seeking love would write short messages on their arm and the same words would appear on the arm of their future partner selected by the Titan. The ink would then last until sunset of the following day. A game of twenty questions would then unfold over the course of many new moons until the people bound by fate could determine each other's identity. One technicality of this system was that any messages attempting to directly reveal one’s identity (such as writing one’s name or street address) would appear distorted or with letters missing.
However, the families of high society looked down on this practice. Using “folk magic” was generally considered uncouth, but this tradition was clearly mixing potion and oracle magic. As a result, most influential families, such as the Blights, prohibited their children from engaging in such nonsense. Marriages were made on the basis of alliances between families. Love was earned, not freely given. Status, finances, and reputation mattered far more than any romantic destiny.
Despite efforts to ban the arcane tradition, many families still clung to it. In the years before scrolls were invented, these magic messages allowed each person to gather small clues about the other, such as whether they were left- or right-handed, their interests, and their personality. Some felt that the emperor’s ascent to power and increasing dominance of magical technology had no right to destroy a centuries old custom. Others simply enjoyed the look of joy on their children's faces the first time they received a response to their messages. Thus, demand remained for the ink and proved to be a reliable source of income for outcast potion makers, such as Eda the Owl Lady.
Many laughed at her self-proclaimed title of the most powerful witch in the Boiling Isles, but it was true that she was one of the best potion-makers in the town of Bonesborough. It was unknown if it was the cause or effect of Eda’s status as a wild witch, but she knew countless folk remedies and potions that were lost to time or banned by the Potions Coven. Eda made her rounds every weekday with a bag of hard-to-find potions, making house calls and running deliveries with help of a small demon of obscure origin. On weekends, Eda sold “rare human collectibles” that she scavenged from unknown sources.
One fine weekend morning, two men walked up to Eda's stand, towing a young girl with braids behind them in a small red wagon. Eda recognized them as the Park family to whom she had sold that human contraption. She had found it tossed out in a dumpster and knew it would make her a pretty penny. All of carts on the Isles were wooden with crude wheels. This wagon was metal, painted red, and emblazoned with white letters spelling out “Radio Flyer.” The Park family became regular customers after that, returning every weekend to buy human books for their daughter. Harvey would buy science books while Gilbert was seemingly addicted to human fiction. How anyone could read those saccharine-sweet “fairy tales” was beyond Eda, but Harvey still had Eda’s respect for buying some more complex science fiction novels with complicated lore, such as Cosmic Frontier.
This morning, Eda knew that she would be forced to bring the disappointing news that she had been unable to locate the fourth book of the series. Harvey had already purchased seven novels in the series and seemed willing to pay far more than market price to find out how Captain Avery escaped from the army of imposter clones. To her surprise, it was Gilbert who spoke up today and requested two bottles of soulmate ink. Eda rummaged in her hammerspace disguised as a mane of unruly hair where she kept such contraband. “Why two ink potions?”, she questioned as she set them on the table. “A single bottle is enough to last a years’ worth of writing, unless you two feel like going back to your school days and writing each other secret messages again,” Eda smirked.
Gilbert chuckled and gestured towards Willow explaining, “as much fun as that would be, Willow's best friend Amity Blight is coming over this evening, and I thought the girls would enjoy something from the old days.”
Eda stopped short. "Amity Blight? I don't know anything about the girl, but I went to school with her parents. There is nothing good I can say about them. I don't mean to doubt your judgement, but I would hate to see Willow getting hurt by Odalia. Of course, she won't do anything directly, she does all of her dirty work by proxy and will threaten or manipulate someone into hurting you guys or your kid.” Harvey waved his hand in dismissal and chuckled, “it's fine Eda. I talked about it with Alador, and he said that he didn't care as long as Amity was back home before sunset and we didn't feed her any candy. It's good for both girls. Willow and Amity are opposites but bring out the best in each other. We’re going to have a little history lesson and then try out the potion ink.”
Eda sighed and flatly responded, “well for my two favorite customers, I'll give you 20% discount. Fifty snails for both bottles, and don't just put them in the red wagon for everyone else to see. The coven scouts rarely come this way, but that doesn't mean that your neighborhood isn't crawling with them.”
As the sound of the plastic wagon wheels clattered off into the distance, Eda sighed again and wondered since when she had started feeling so protective of some strangers and their daughter. Titan forbid that she ever end up with a child of her own. It would most certainly be her undoing and lead to her or her kid being captured by the emperor and his thugs. As long as she was alone, she was safe. The supposedly elite force of scouts that were hand-picked to enforce the emperor's will were actually just a group of yes-men who could be defeated by simply tying their shoelaces together. After that had happened too many times, the coven scouts all switched to wearing boots without any laces.
As evening settled in, the Park family settled in with a variety of healthful snacks, a pair of new green and purple fountain pens made of cut crystal, and two bottles of potion ink for communicating across the In-Between. Harvey had prepared a full presentation on the history of the tradition and what little was known about the dimension in which the Titan resided. After a few gentle knocks on the front door, Amity appeared, her auburn hair tied back neatly with a green ribbon. In contrast with Willow's love of nature and inhibition with soil and mud, everything about Amity's appearance was always pristine. When playing outside with Willow a few weeks ago, Amity had gone inside to wash her hands after finishing each clay abomination figurine. Willow needed to be hosed down before she could be let back inside. Today was no different. Willow was sitting cross-legged on the floor with a heap of papers and toys around her. Amity had settled on a floor cushion with her knees tucked to one side.
With the help of something Eda had called a “laptop” with “powerpoints”, Harvey dove into a long story about the creation of the Isles, the death of Titan, the realm of the In-Between, and how witches and demons could find their soulmate through the magic of the Titan himself. Although it would be several years before either girl should start thinking about serious relationships, Harvey spoke with joy and enthusiasm as he showed the pictures he had drawn. Without the ability to do any sort of illusion magic, this piece of human engineering let him tell a story that left both girls in awe. “And Willow, to make a very long story short, this potion is how I met your dad,” Harvey finished with a flourish. At this moment, Gilbert produced two bottles and the new glass calligraphy pens they bought earlier that day.
After carefully filling each pen with the magical ink, the two girls looked at each other with the same question in their minds - what should they write for their first message to their future soulmate? Willow's eyes sparkled as an idea formed. She lifted her pen and started writing slowly on her arm in slightly shaky letters “my papa is an abomination witch.” She jumped up to show her fathers, shouting “look! I wrote my message and it's about you! Because no one else could have told such an amazing story!”. Amity nodded, adding “She's right. And a brilliant first clue, Willow. I hope you don't mind, but I'm going to write the same exact thing.” She turned to Gilbert with a questioning look, asking in a soft tone, “May I keep this pen? It is extremely beautiful. You even remembered that my favorite color is purple.”
After helping clean up all the supplies and snacks from the living room, Amity had one question on her mind - how long until she got an answer to her message? She knew she couldn't go home happy until she got a response. Turning to Willow's parents, she asked, “how long does it typically take to get an answer?” Harvey shrugged and simply responded, “It depends. Gilbert wrote back to me within minutes. Our parents had bought us ink the same day. That's why it is said that the other person is your soulmate. Nowadays, kids are so wrapped in their scrolls they might not notice until morning. But you should both get an answer by tomorrow.”
Clutching her new pen, neatly tucked away in its felt box, Amity started walking home. Upon opening the front door, she was surprised to see her mother sitting upright in chair that been moved into the hallway. Amity winced slightly at the cold stare but stood resolutely. “Where have you been? I called Skara’s and Boscha’s parents and they said you weren't there. Explain yourself young lady.” Amity brightened, quickly launching into a detailed narrative that Alador had let go over to the house of one of his employees for a history lesson about the Titan and the realm of the In-Between. And no, she hadn't eaten any sweets, just fruits and cheese. And that Alador needed to buy one of those human “laptops” and take it apart so she could learn how it works. Odalia’s gaze softened as she tutted, “well it seems you are able to make decent choices after all and not embarrass the family like the twins did again today.” Having earned her parents' approval, she happily made her way upstairs. Tomorrow was a school day, and she needed to be in top shape.
The next day passed by in a whirlwind, so much so that she had forgotten entirely about her ink experiment. Not until she bumped into Willow while leaving the school, who was looking somewhat downcast. “What's wrong, Willow?”, she inquired while running up to her best friend. “There's no one out there for me. I'm going to be alone forever,” her friend mumbled. Amity stared in disbelief - how could someone as athletic and creative as Willow be left alone? Her fathers were incredibly caring and might even be spoiling her. Then she remembered the ink from last night and nearly squeaked, “You mean nobody answered? Wait, let me check my arms.” Rolling up her sleeves, Amity stared in disbelief. Besides her own neat cursive writing that was beginning to fade, there was nothing there either. Grabbing Willow's hand, she started to run. The ink must have been fake. Or they had done it wrong. There must be an explanation.
Gilbert answered the frantic knocks on the door with a look of surprise. “Did you two run here all the way from school? Amity, I have never seen you out of breath like this before. Did something happen? You surely can't be that excited about my cooking.” Then a look of relief washed over his face. “You too finally got responses, didn't you?” Amity just looked down and shook her head. “Actually, nothing happened. I think someone sold you fake ink. Or we did it wrong. Or maybe it was supposed to be the full moon, not the new moon. Or …” Her ramblings were cut off by Gilbert's laugh. “Oh no, the ink works. We bought it from the Owl Lady, and she makes the strongest potions that money can buy. As it turns out, my husband had the same idea as me and snuck a bottle of ink in his lunchbox so that he could write on me while I was at work. I really meant the whole soulmates thing.” He rolled up his sleeves, showing a giant mess of scribbled sentences in black ink. On his other arm was an equal number of sentences in gold ink with a strong precise script. Amity and Willow simultaneously rolled up their sleeves, with nothing to show. Gilbert looked puzzled and scratched the back of his neck. “Well, I have heard of some legends of particularly unpleasant people who were rejected by the Titan and never found a soulmate. But you two girls don't fit the description. Let's have some food and talk about it after dinner.”
Dinner at the Park household was a simple but comforting meal. Mashed toetatoes, mandrake soup, and fruit ice scream. It did not occur to Amity that a vegetarian meal could be so filling. Gilbert cleared his throat and addressed the two girls who were now full and relaxed. “Well, I have a few theories, and you can choose which one to believe. Remember that Papa and I will always be here for you. The first one, which Amity's parents would tell you, is that this is all a scam by the Owl Lady and the evil ways of wild witches. That reminds me, Amity, you probably should keep your sleeves rolled down until nightfall. Maybe Eda had a point yesterday. Never mind that, you have seen for yourselves that this ancient magic works.
“The second explanation is that you have been rejected by the Titan, which I find improbable. Despite what the Emperor says, the Titan is very kind power that is very difficult to anger. It would take some heinous act of betrayal to be cut off from its magic, and then you would be alone forever and never meet anyone. But there is nothing you too little girls could have done.
“The third and somewhat unlikely explanation is that your soulmate lives in another dimension connected by the In-Between. Maybe they don't have magical ink in the human realm and have no way to respond. Amity, maybe, just maybe, your soulmate is some human will fall through a portal and suddenly appear in this realm instead of the trash that usually shows up here. And you will fall madly in love with that human and spend the rest of your lives hopping between dimensions.”
At this point, Harvey jumped up in excitement. “Willow! Maybe your soulmate is actually a clone like in Book 5 of Cosmic Frontier! Maybe he hasn't been created yet and that's why you didn't get a response. You’ll study abomination engineering and become the the first astronaut of the Boiling Isles! You'll go to space and there you’ll meet the clone of someone from another realm who was supposed to capture you, but instead falls in love and defects to join your starfleet!”
Gilbert chuckled and continued, “the last and most obvious option is that your soulmate simply comes from a family that doesn't believe in the old ways and refused to buy any ink. However, that's not the way this type of magic works. The reason that Harvey and I bought the ink yesterday was that someone appeared in your universe and the Titan wanted us to help you make your first connection.”
Amity looked up in gratitude as Willow patted her on the back. It seemed so wonderful again. Even if it was true that she didn't have anyone, she wasn't truly alone. She had a friend who cared, and nothing in this world could change that. She reached and took Willow's hand and decided to make a promise. “Willow, I want you to know that even if this means that we are never going to have a soulmate, we will always have each other. You will always have your dad and your papa and me. No matter what happens, I'll always be your best friend. Pinky promise?” After a quick shake of hands, Amity hugged each member of the Park family before turning to leave. “My parents are probably worried sick about me. I need to go home now.”
As soon as Amity opened the large double doors to Blight Manor, she felt something was wrong. Before either of her parents could say anything, she started explaining. “I'm sorry I didn't come home right away and didn't say anything. Something happened and I needed answers. I should have called you but Willow didn't have a crow with her. And then her papa explained to me about the will of the Titan and how the magic of this realm works. And then he showed me how …” Amity stopped short and suddenly remembered that she had forgotten Gilbert's warning to keep her sleeve rolled down until nightfall. Now, she scrambled to pull down the cuffs of her uniform.
It was too late. Her parents saw the fading writing on her arm. Amity froze as her mother reached up for her oracle pendant. An unpleasantly sweet voice filled the room. “So Mittens, I assume you are telling me the truth here because if you are lying you are going to regret it ten times more. You are trying to tell me that not only did you run off from your family to spend the evening with some Birch Tree girl I have never met, but you too also conspired to perform forbidden wild magic in order to find some obscure lover who would only tarnish the Blight family name? Right Alador?”
Amity stared up in disbelief. How could her parents say such a thing. “Her name is Willow. And no, it's not like that! I … I …”. Her attempts to defend Willow were failing.
“Answer me, Mittens! Did that girl give you this corrupt ink?”
Amity just nodded.
“From whom did she buy it?”
“Some Owl Lady.”
“As I feared. Well, Mittens … that only leaves me one choice. Cut off your relationship with Willow or we will.”
“But she's my best friend… I can't do that”
Odalia was no longer listening and had turned her attention to her husband. “Alador dear, didn't Mittens say something yesterday that this girl's father was one of your employees? It would be a shame if anyone found out that he was letting his daughter practice wild magic. He might even be expelled from the Abomination coven! How tragic would that be?”
Amity finally started sobbing. “I'm sorry! Please don't do that to Willow or her dads! I’ll never talk to her again! Just leave her alone!”
Odalia returned her gaze to hear youngest daughter and now appraised her appearance. “Mittens, I hope you are good to your word. Are those sweat stains on your uniform? Please don't make things any worse by telling me you actually ran to that girl's house. How pathetic! Well, maybe if you work hard enough at school, you can prove yourself again. Since the twins are such failures, your are now this family's only hope.”
Before Amity could respond, she found herself in an empty hallway. There was no way to keep her pinky promise to Willow, but she could at least make her parents proud of her again.
Notes:
Next up, Darius reveals why he has always called Alador a hack and teaches Amity how the writings of some human named Bruce Lee could actually let her become the strongest abomination witch on the Isles.
Chapter 2: Be Water, My Friend
Summary:
To avoid distractions, Amity's mother seeks to enroll her in more classes. Lilith extends a rare opportunity if Amity can win over Darius, who reveals why he considers Alador a hack.
Notes:
Written on the return flight! Hoping to get into a biweekly chapter cadence as life permits.
Edit: Fixed chapter notes and a couple typos. Also forgot to include a funny story from my flight home (during which I wrote this). Flight was delayed after boarding, so the aircrew turned on some music over the intercom while we were stuck at the gate. The first song that came on "Girls" by Girl in Red, and I may have slightly panicked until I realized it was coming from the speakers overhead and not my phone :)
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
The next morning, Amity woke up with a new resolve. If she was perfect, then there would be nothing that anyone could criticize her for. Nobody could ever call her weak or embarrass her. Besides, her mother had said that she was the family's only hope. She would become the best abomination witch on the Isles. Some achievement that her father would have to acknowledge. She had a path forward and nobody could stop her. With a smile and a confident step, she marched down the stairs to find her parents in the kitchen. After waiting for the abomi-butler to stumble out of the entryway, she made her appearance.
“Good morning, Mother! I believe you will be proud to hear that I have decided that I will commit all my time to my studies. No more distractions, no more disappointments. You said it yourself, I am the only hope of the family, so I will do everything I can to become the strongest abomination witch on the Isles!”
Alador looked up from his newspaper with a strange expression on his face. “The strongest abomination witch on the Isles? Stronger than me? Stronger than Coven Head Witch Darius. Don't get ahead of yourself, Mittens. You need to behave like everyone else, starting out as an engineer or even better an airship mechanic. Then you can work your way up to the top for real.”
Amity had not expected that response. Being a mechanic was physically grueling work. Was that a note of jealousy in his voice?
However, her thoughts were immediately disrupted by a crow call, which her mother immediately answered. “Head Witch Clawthorne! I never expected a call directly from you. What an honor … Principle Bump called you? … You want to see her today? … Why yes, I think that would be entirely appropriate … oh certainly, less than a minute ago, Amity just walked in and instead of wishing me good morning, she announced her dream of joining the Emperor's Coven and following in your footsteps! Would you believe that? … No, I couldn't believe it myself but that is what she just said!”
That was certainly not what Amity said, but whatever, it was close enough. A chance to meet with Lilith Clawthorne was an opportunity of a lifetime, certainly nothing to pass over due to some technicality about what she actually said. In a few moments, she found a gorenola bar had been shoved into her hands and she was being pushed up the stairs to make herself presentable.
After what seemed like an hour of fussing over how her shirt had wrinkles in it if she turned her head too much in the wrong direction, they boarded the family airship towards the emperor's castle. The royal residence was a remarkable fortress of stone, dug deep into a pit within the chest of the fallen Titan. From above, it appeared as just a square hole in the ground, but as the airship landed, the rest of the castle was revealed. At the center of the excavation stood a square castle, inaccessible except by a retractable bridge. Its stone towers and parapets stood in stark contrast to the more organic architecture of the rest of the island. Long banners with the sigil of the Emperor's Coven flowed from high windows. Golden pillars framed the entryway and presumably the hall within.
As usual, Odalia led the group and immediately greeted the guards, ordering them to let Head Witch Clawthorne know that they had arrived. She had a certain way of cajoling people into doing whatever she wanted. The green-haired witch could say just enough to make her point while allowing the context (and perhaps a small bag of snails) to do the rest of the talking. Perhaps it was her skills as an Oracle, but she always knew what people wanted to hear or how much the “expedition fee” would be to get her paperwork processed. In contrast, Alador could be described, at best, as socially awkward. His incredible technical skills were matched by an equally remarkable ability to ignore any hints or to say something inappropriate that would plunge the room into uneasy silence.
Soon enough, Lilith appeared on the far side of the retractable bridge and commanded the scouts to extend the gangway. Flanked by a pair of guards, the Blight family crossed over the chasm. Amity walked down the exact center, trying not to think about the lack of any handrails or any such safety measures to prevent one from falling into the array of spikes below. If the intention of this design was to intimidate anyone who entered the castle, it was certainly succeeding. Even Odalia seemed subdued as they marched across.
Lilith offered a formal and rather stiff handshake to Amity's mother, stating “Principal Bump called me because you said you were concerned about your daughter taking an interest in wild magic. While that is of no concern to me and something that should be handled by the parent - creature association, I was intrigued by Bump’s opinion that Amity may be ready to sit for the entrance exam for the Emperor's Coven program at Hexside and begin advanced classes. Normally, witches must be sixteen to take this exam, but Amity is only eleven years old.”
“She just turned twelve,” Odalia interjected, “and there certainly must be some exceptions to that rule.”
Lilith’s expression soured at having been interrupted, but she continued. “Indeed, you are correct. There is no specific age at which one can start an apprenticeship within the Coven, which then allows one to sit for the entrance exam with the approval of the head witch of the relevant coven. Since Amity is in the Abomination track, she will meet separately with Darius Deamonne and then take the exam next week.”
“Of course Amity knows everything on the exam, and Darius will approve of her. He was always impressed with my abominations when we …” Alador was cut off by a sharp elbow to the ribs from his wife, who added, “yes, when the two of you both attended Hexside, dear.”
As if summoned, Darius appeared in the doorway. If Lilith appeared neat and orderly, her counterpart from the Abominations Coven represented the height of modern fashion. His long tunic and sleeves flapped in the breeze, while his hair was held in place with a band of purple fluid.
“Head Witch Darius! How have you been? My congratulations again on your promotion,” Alador gushed. It was unusual for him to be so animated. “It's been a while,” Darius curtly responded. An unmistakable tension hung in the air as the two abomination witches faced each other, which was only dispelled when Lilith cleared her throat to indicate her patience was limited.
“Well Amity, you will go upstairs with Darius, who will assess your knowledge of abominations and social aptitude. In the meantime, I will discuss certain financial matters with your parents.” Lilith gestured towards a flight of stairs just inside the entrance to castle.
Amity was nervous about leaving her parents’ side and going in alone, but after a few hesitant glances back, she followed Darius inside. Amity much preferred socializing with her elders than any of her peers, but having to navigate the interaction without any supervision was somewhat unnerving. The stone stairs of the fortress echoed under the heels of her boots as she focused on keeping up with Darius and maintaining a professional front. After ascending several flights of stairs, they reached what appeared to be Darius’s office. He held the door open and motioned Amity to a wooden chair across from his desk.
After a few moments of silence, Amity realized that Darius was waiting for her to make the first move to open the conversation. She seized the opportunity to make a positive first impression. Extending her hand, she introduced herself, “Good morning Head Witch Darius. My name is Amity Blight, and I understand you wish to assess my aptitude with abomination magic for an apprenticeship in the Emperor's Coven.”
“Well, you certainly have better manners than your father ever did. I'm not interested in formalities, but instead wish to understand why we should bend so many rules to let you in. I have seen too many so-called ‘gifted kids’ that burnt out in a few months. I have also seen dozens of witchlings whose parents paid for private tutors so that they could get top grades. The last thing I need around here is some precocious teenager running around and disrupting advanced classes or affairs here at the castle. I get one day off, and the last way I want to spend it is babysitting you.”
His response did not surprise Amity, but the lack of sugarcoating did. She looked at him directly and maintained her resolve. “What do you wish to know? I certainly don't consider myself gifted, and I do resent whenever my mom calls me a child prodigy. I just work very hard and focus on the subjects that I like. If my classmates spent the same amount of time studying instead of watching crystal ball shows, they would have the same grades as me.”
Darius raised an eyebrow. “Tell me, do you actually want an apprenticeship? And who put you up to this?”
Amity sighed, “No one ‘put me up to this.’ The truth is that I want to become the strongest abomination witch on all the Isles. I want to design new airships that could take us to the stars like I read in these silly human books. My father thinks that I need to work my way up from the bottom like everyone else. But I don't want to be stuck doing some menial job or in classes in which I already know all the material. There's nothing left in the basic Abominations coursework. If I don't have to wait until I am sixteen to start advanced classes, that would give me a four year headstart on everyone.”
“Reasonable. Give me a formal presentation on the theory of abomination summoning and then a practical demonstration. I want to see if you are as ready as you claim.”
Amity walked to the small chalkboard in his office and proceeded to list abomination ingredients in the correct proportions and how one can assert one’s will over the abomination to perform commands such as ‘rise’ or ‘cower’. Through the use of certain mechanical devices, the abomination could be fortified or automated to perform various repetitive tasks.
Darius remained silent for the entirety of her presentation before summoning the necessary ingredients to create abomination fluid. Amity set to work immediately, rolling up her sleeves before starting to measure out precise volumes of each component. She stirred methodically ensuring that she did not spill any, not least because it would leave permanent stains on her white shirt. After five minutes of mixing, she spun her finger and commanded it to rise. A small, but perfectly shaped abomination fluid stood on the desk and bowed to Darius.
Darius nodded and simply asked, “Did you learn this in school or from your father?” Amity blinked before Darius continued, “this is a textbook-quality abomination that would get you a perfect grade. But like this, you will never become the strongest witch in your field. The best you could do is to become another hack like your father. I am beginning to understand what Bump sees in you and how an apprenticeship would actually do wonders for your skills. I'll give you my recommendation, but I still have no time to babysit you. If Lilith wants to, that's on her.”
“Thank you so much for your support, Head Witch Darius,” Amity said with genuine gratitude. “But why did you call my father a hack? He can take apart anything and put it back together. His abominations never disintegrate. He even won a championship belt at the Bonesborough Brawl.”
Darius sat down with a sigh. “Your father has no imagination, no intuitive understanding of abomination theory, no appreciation for the art itself. After all these years, he still uses the abomination fluid recipe from our Hexside textbooks. He sees them as mindless golems that can be manipulated and bent into submission. He compensates for his lack of true knowledge by using huge volumes of abomination fluid. That's how he won the Brawl. I know because I was cheering for him that night.”
She had heard the story many times from her father, but there was something in Darius's voice that sounded like disappointment. “Can you please explain what you mean?” she inquired politely.
“Most people think that controlling a large abomination is very difficult, but that is not technically true. Summoning the quantity of abomination fluid needed is what is difficult. Controlling a very large abomination is actually much easier than the very small ones you may see me use. Alador figured out that he could just carry all the abomination fluid he would need and then he would seem extremely powerful. Since there are no rules about cheating in the brawl, he went with an entire barrel of abomination fluid strapped to his back and was able to overpower all his opponents with the volume of his attacks.”
“You're right. That does seem a little bit like cheating. But what about the abomination fluid? The recipe that we learn in school is the best possible one, perfected over many centuries. Why would you use something else?”
“Again, what people think about abominations is not always technically accurate. The recipe that you learned in school (and that your father still uses) was optimized for stability so that it wouldn't explode in the faces of young students constantly. Add too much thickening clay, and it becomes too stiff to move. Add too little stabilizing powder, and it will be volatile. But those who appreciate abominations as a form of art know the recipe needs to be fine-tuned for the specific purpose. My abominations are far more fluid than what you were taught. See?” He twirled his finger and summoned some fluid. It was far thinner than Amity's and darker in color. “Controlling thin abomination fluid is more difficult but allows you to shift between forms and standard much faster. The abomination in my hairband has a small trace of snake oil mixed in to subdue any flyaways.”
Amity realized that she needed to start writing this down. She quickly checked her pockets to find a pencil and some paper. Unfortunately, all she found was the glass calligraphy pen that Willow's parents had given her. It would have to do. It was no longer the new moon so anything that she wrote on her hand would not be leaked to anyone else (or so she thought).
She quickly began to write down what Darius was explaining. “You can add a touch of mandrake root to allow your abomination to perform vocal attacks. Pixie dust doesn't do anything except add sparkles, but it does provide so much flair during parades …” After a few minutes, Amity had covered her entire arm in notes.
Darius stopped short upon seeing her scribbles. “You were actually listening? Maybe you are serious about what you meant about being the strongest abomination witch. I'm actually impressed.”
“I am serious,” beamed Amity. “I actually enjoy abominations theory a lot, the arithmancy behind their movements, how to calculate the proportions, and so on.”
“I now also see what got you in so much trouble with your parents. That ink is exactly what I think it is, right?”
Amity jumped up startled. “I'm sorry, I know it's wild magic, but it's the only pen I had with me and I didn't bring any paper. I already promised my parents that I wouldn't talk to the girl who gave it to me.”
Darius just pinched the bridge of his nose and groaned. “You should probably know that has nothing to do with the real reason why your mother was angry. But it makes sense that she would see whoever gave you that pen as a threat, but you are too young to understand that.”
Amity just tilted her head in surprise.
“You see, that ink is how I got to know Alador as well as I do. But his family did not approve of our relationship and felt that marriage to an Oracle witch with shrewd negotiating skills would be better for the family business. So we broke up. And now I can't even recognize what he has turned into. He probably never told you that, did he? Anyway, back to abomination theory. Is there anything else you would like to know?”
“Yes, what does it mean that abominations should not be manipulated? Subjecting them to commands is how you order them to do things”.
Darius smiled and hummed, “There is actually something to be learned from human teachings. Not too long ago, there was a human by the name of Bruce Lee who dedicated his short but brilliant life to the art of fighting. Among all the human trash that floats into our realm, a few of his books appeared as well. This human had many words of wisdom, but one is most relevant to abomination magic. He said ‘Be water, my friend. Empty your mind. Be formless, be shapeless, like water.’ It is with his philosophy that I achieved mastery of abominations that your father could never dream of.”
Amity stared at the Coven Head in disbelief. Not only did he contradict everything she had been taught, but he substantiated his points with possibly banned human books.
“Abominations are not something to be controlled. Yelling at it louder will not make it comply with your demands. Beating it into submission will not work either. True mastery comes from being one with the abomination and letting it be one with you. Do with it as would with your own hand. It is an extension of your own body.” As he spoke, the abomination fluid on the table rose from its container, wrapping itself around his arm and forming a large machete. He swung it effortlessly, parrying attacks from an imaginary opponent. The same fluid then dropped to the floor and reformed into a tiny abomination that retrieved some papers that fallen off his desk during the previous demonstration.
Amity stood in awe. Darius's movements were effortless. For a moment, she wasn't sure if he had even spun a spell circle. Had he simply wished for a sword to make it appear? All she could ask was, “do you think I could find some of those human books at the library?”
Darius laughed for the first time. “You certainly might. And Lilith will love you to pieces. You're even more of a nerd than she is. That human’s name was Bruce Lee.” Amity quickly scribbled it on her other arm.
A loud knock sounded on the door, which prompted Amity to quickly roll her sleeves back down. “Promise you won't say anything to my parents about me keeping that ink pen?” Darius just nodded.
Lilith opened the door and stood with one hand on her hip. Darius stood to address her. “Head Witch Clawthorne, if you have resolved any financial questions with Mr. and Mrs. Blight, I think you will find that Amity not only has the knowledge and skills for an apprenticeship, but also a passion for knowledge and magical theory that I have not seen in a long time. I think an apprenticeship in the Emperor's Coven under your supervision will do wonders for her career.” Turning to Amity, he patted her on the shoulder and said, “keep it up and you will go far.”
“Very well. Do you have anything to remark about her maturity and social skills needed for an apprenticeship?” inquired Lilith.
“She certainly does, but she needs someone who can support and encourage her. As a matter of fact,” Darius smirked, “I think you may have accidentally found yourself that daughter you supposedly never wanted.”
Lilith suddenly appeared too flustered to answer and just grabbed Amity's hand to lead her back down the stairs.
Notes:
Next chapter: Luz tries to make sense of the words mysteriously appearing on her arm when nobody believes she didn't write them herself.
Chapter 3: Something Ventured, Someone Framed
Summary:
Young Luz Noceda attempts to explain to her parents that the golden ink that has appeared on her arms in the night is proof that magic exists. When it happens again the next day in the middle of a math quiz, nobody is pleased.
Notes:
This one took a bit longer than I wanted. It seems that I cannot write chapters in sequential order! I wasn't able to finish this until I had three more completed chapters from later arcs and had built out the storyboard for the rest of this fic.
Luz's middle school principal is based on my Business 101 professor and some of the real things he said during class. I never found out where he got the shopping cart / trolley that he pushed across campus with everyone's homework tossed inside it.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Luz Noceda was not your average middle school student, but unfortunately, in a way that was not appreciated by her teachers. She cared little for the school's group activities, instead crafting her own games and magical adventures. In elementary school, she had one close friend who shared her love of the fantastic. Together, they had engaged in many random adventures, from burying time capsules in the school's pristine lawn to taste-testing various random berries to see if they were poisonous. Most of their quests went unnoticed, such as borrowing some mops to ride as if they were knights on a quest. A handful of other activities did incur the wrath of their parents, such as trying to bring home a pair of opossums, claiming they were wildebeests of the trash can dimension and needed to be rescued from the oppressive hounds of the tyrannical king next door.
However, those few years of joy came to an end for Luz when her father fell ill and they moved to another town in Connecticut, named Gravesfield. At first, she was enthusiastic about the sinister name of the town, but it seemed to have little connection to everyday life there. She had enjoyed the more rural setting of her previous town – the farmers that would give her a ride on a tractor, the chickens running in her yard, and the fruit trees lining the street (with unlimited snacks on the go). Gravesfield had none of that everyday magic. Apparently, the town was named after a large cemetery from the early 1700’s that existed before the rest of the streets had been platted. Other than a few witch trials, nothing remarkable had happened there, according to all reputable sources.
Nothing remarkable happened in Luz’s life either. The days were all largely the same. Manny would go for weekly treatments at the hospital, although they did not seem to be helping much. Camila worked long hours at the town's veterinary clinic. Luz tried to find friends at her new school, but nobody shared her interests in mythical creatures or even common backyard ones, such as snakes.
One day, Luz woke up with a strange message on her arm, written in gold ink. It spelled out “My father is an abominations witch.” The handwriting was in a neat cursive script that looked like something from an old manuscript. The letter “f” had a unique flair to it, printed like a long s with a quick strike through it. Luz certainly did not remember writing this. Her handwriting was always messy, interspersed with doodles of tigers and dragons. She quickly ran down the stairs to show her parents.
Manny was sitting at the breakfast table while Camila was at the stove cooking, already dressed in poodle-themed scrubs. Luz rolled up the sleeve of her pajamas to display the message. “Dad, I finally have proof that magic is real! Look at what appeared on my arm!” she exclaimed. Her father read the message and began to laugh until tears started rolling down his cheeks. Although his health was rapidly fading, his sense of humor had not. “That is the funniest description of being an engineer that I have ever read in my entire life. If my coworkers found out that my little sunshine called me an abomination witch, they would never let me live it down. Although, you know what, I'm going to tell them anyway.”
Camila seemed to be more impressed with the quality of the handwriting as she exclaimed, “Mija, you never told me that you could write in cursive! I thought they stopped teaching it in schools. You should practice like this more often. But I really wish you hadn't used a permanent marker. This will be so hard to remove. I guess it might just wash out on its own eventually. That would be better than trying to scrub it off with some alcohol or acetone.”
Camila turned back to cooking and then set two plates of steaming food on the table. She packed her own breakfast in a container before running out the door, calling over her shoulder, “Mija, be good at school today. Papi will drop you off on his way to the hospital. Love you!”
After she was gone, Manny sighed, “I don't know how much time I have left, but I think I now know exactly what to get for you. Something in the bookstore caught my eye a few days ago. Something you can cherish for many years to come.” Luz deflated at his somber tone and no longer felt like explaining that she had not written that message herself. Maybe one day her parents would listen to her long enough to understand what she was trying to tell them.
When she returned home from school, she found a small package on the kitchen table. It was rectangular in shape and rather heavy. When Luz shook the box, it did not make any sound that would reveal its contents. The only clue was the green wrapping paper with gold sparkles. Maybe it was a magic kit, Luz pondered.
As she debated trying to peel away a corner to peek inside, her papi walked in. “Hello sunshine, I see you found the gift I bought you. Do you want to open it now or wait until your birthday?” Luz bit her lip in thought and then stamped her feet. It would be worth the wait. Now she had something to look forward to. The box went into a kitchen drawer to await her big day.
As Luz prepared for bed that night, she was surprised to see the message on her arm had disappeared entirely. Even a normal pen mark wouldn't have just vanished. A permanent marker (as her Mami thought) would have taken a few days to wash off. But her arm now looked as if nothing had ever happened. No mysterious messages. No magical ink. She mused that she could do some research on her computer about what was an abomination witch. Maybe that would yield some answers.
The next day proceeded as usual. Her English teacher seemed to relish assigning the class extra essays. Her history teacher droned about the revolutionary war and whether Gravesfield had remained loyal to Great Britain. Her math teacher assigned another pop quiz. It was at this point that reality warped again. As Luz drudged her way through another word problem, gold ink suddenly began to appear on her arm again. The handwriting was the same, but now it was hurried and shaky. The words made even less sense than before.
“Snake oil for hairband”
“Mandrake root – sonic attack”
“Pixie dust sparkles, not useful”
Luz gasped and sat up with a jerk, immediately attracting the attention of her teacher. She tried to cover her arm but that only seemed to make things worse. He was now walking to her desk with a scowl. She tried to bury her head in the worksheet but was interrupted by the sound of knuckles wrapping loudly on her desk. “Luz Noceda, do you want to tell me about what you were reading on your arm? I hope you weren't trying to cheat.”
“Nothing there, Mr. Smith, I was about to sneeze. And then my arm was itchy.”
“Then you wouldn't mind turning your arm over so that I can see it?”
Luz shook her head. A few seconds later, her quiz sheet vanished and a detention slip appeared in its place.
“You will now report to the principal’s office. As a matter of policy, you will receive a zero on this quiz. Since this is the first time it has happened, you won't face further discipline. I will have to call your parents, though.”
Luz tried to protest but instead found herself trudging down the empty hallway to the principal's office. Little did she know this was the first of many trips that she would soon be making down that dingy corridor. As she raised her fist to knock on the door, two more words appeared on the opposite arm. These were squiggly and lacked the penmanship of the previous ones.
“Bruce Lee”
Now that made even less sense. The previous writings all dealt with magic and potions. Why would someone send her the name of a dead movie star? With no time left to ponder how the two sets of messages were related, she turned the knob and entered the cramped waiting area.
There was nothing to read or do in that tight, dimly lit space. The handful of leaflets about the team sports programs proved to be uninteresting. Rearranging a handful of discarded forms on different colors of cardstock into a gradient scheme was satisfying, but that task took only a few minutes. A small rip in the carpet captured her attention briefly until she discovered that kicking it with the toe of her sneakers failed to make it larger. That only left the writing on her arm to examine.
It was certainly some sort of magic, but unlike anything that she had read in any children's fantasy stories. Perhaps it was some sort of time loop, and she had collided with a past version of herself who was an alchemist several centuries ago. That would explain her interest in castles and serpents. But that failed to explain the second message. Perhaps she had multiple past lives, and she had been a movie producer as well. Becoming a film animator sounded like an exciting job. But right now, she needed to figure this out.
Maybe it was some kind of vanishing ink from a stage magician's kit. Her abuelo had shown her a trick from his school days of how to make secret messages by writing with lemon juice on a blank sheet of paper and then holding it over an incandescent light bulb. Maybe this was some high-tech magic pen her father bought, where the ink would only appear after a few hours. If he had pulled this prank on her, that would explain why he thought it was so funny yesterday. That at least made sense. Her papi clearly preferred science fiction but supported her fascination with magic. He must have looked up various potion ingredients and then written them on her arm. And then “Bruce Lee” was an afterthought, a joke to mess with her so that she would not be able to figure it out.
At this moment, the principal stepped out of his office and called for her to come in. He was a middle-aged man with round glasses, a large forehead, and hair parted down the middle. Something about his appearance or his atrocious necktie reminded Luz of a character from an old TV show called The Office (or something like that) her parents had been watching. She hoped that her principal would not be as much of a boor as that man on TV.
She entered his cluttered office and took a seat at a heavily scratched mahogany desk, which had not been polished in years. Countless papers were arranged in disorganized stacks. A few dozen three-ring binders were heaped in a shopping cart that appeared to have been stolen from the local grocery store. An old desktop computer stood in the corner, along with a miniature sledgehammer leaning against the back of the monitor. “Why do you have such a large hammer on your table?” inquired Luz. That certainly was not the correct way to start the conversation, but her curiosity got the better of her.
“The school district has refused to buy me a new computer for nearly ten years,” the principal drawled in a nasal monotone. “When I finally get fed up with this piece of junk and all the idiots here, I'm going to take that hammer and smash this computer into a hundred tiny pieces. And then they'll have no choice but to fire me … But what about you, what brings you in, little lady?”
Luz shrank back in her chair. This conversation was becoming more awkward by the second. “I was taking my math quiz and got distracted by some writing on my arm. Mr. Smith took away my worksheet and sent me here because he thought I was cheating,” she mumbled.
“Can you speak up? Didn't make out anything you said except that you were cheating,” the principal drawled.
Luz jumped up in disbelief. “That's not what I said!” she shouted. “Someone wrote these magic recipes on my arm, but they didn't appear until I was in the middle of the quiz! See?” She thrust her arm forward.
“Don't you raise your voice at me, little lady. Seems like you need to learn some more respect for your elders.” He looked up and down her, deciphering the handwriting, before continuing, “Looks like some kind of secret code. I bet Mr. Smith was correct that you had prepared some sort of notes. Now the question is if you'll come clean and explain how it was supposed to work.”
Luz’s jaw dropped. “Come clean about what? How on earth was this supposed to help me on a math quiz?” she managed to ask after recovering from the shock of the accusations. “Mandrake root is a plant that screams so loud when you pull it out of the ground that it can kill you or make you go insane. Pixie dust is very sparkly and magical, but none of that is a secret code or has anything to do with math!”
“Well how do you know the meanings of those words? You obviously prepared them ahead of time.” the principal said, wiggling an accusing finger in her direction.
“It's in every basic book of magic you can get at the library! Come on, everyone knows this kind of stuff,” Luz retorted. “But I don't know who wrote this on my arm. It wasn't me. My handwriting doesn't look nearly this nice.”
“So ... who was it, got any suspects for your ‘murder board’ of magical clues?” the principal asked while making air quotes with his fingers.
Luz’s breath began to hitch. She could never hold up under pressure, and this lengthy interrogation was pushing her to a breaking point. “I don't know. Maybe my father did it as a prank. Maybe he bought some kind of magical appearing ink and wrote on my arm to cheer me up. You know? Dad jokes?”
As if on cue, her math teacher appeared in the doorway holding her backpack with Manny and Camilla behind him. “Papi! You came!” Luz exclaimed. “I knew you were the one who did this!”
“Did what?” her father asked with a look of utter confusion. The other adults in the room exchanged glances that conveyed a mix of exhaustion and exasperation.
“You bought a magic time-delay marker and then wrote on my arm in the night. When it happened yesterday, I couldn't figure it out. But then, it happened again today during class. See?” Luz held out both of her arms, displaying the array of golden ink.
“I'm confused, what's going on here? And why did your teacher call us? Your mother had to drop work and several patients to come here. I really don't get what's the big deal …” Manny attempted to deduce but was interrupted by the principal.
“What's the big deal, Mr. Noceda, is that your daughter was using a secret code to cheat during her math quiz. Mr. Smith here has an incredible eye for such academic dishonesty and caught Luz. School policy is that the student will automatically receive a zero on this assignment and that we have to call the child's parents to inform them of the circumstances. Further occurrences of such behavior will result in suspension from classes.”
“And how was Luz cheating?” Camila inquired. “This looks like more of the same gibberish that she showed us during breakfast yesterday as proof that magic exists. Looking at what her arm actually says, I really don't see how pixie dust and snake oil would possibly help anyone on a math quiz.”
“Oh, you wouldn't believe the ends that students go to in order to cheat, Mrs. Noceda,” the principal laughed in a nasal voice. “On the college entrance exams, they even bring pens with little cameras inside or have little radios like some kind of wannabe agent 007. Not that it ever helps them score any higher. Just look at the dumb trick your daughter tried to pull off”
Luz jumped up from her chair indignantly to defend her own honor. “This is not a secret code, and I did not try to cheat during the math test! This is magic writing that appeared on my arm in the middle of the test! And then the other ones appeared a few minutes later when I was about to knock on the door to this office. I didn't write any of this and I don't know how it happened. But I think my papi does. He knows everything about these kinds of things. Tell them how you did it, Papi!”
Manny just sighed and ruffled his daughter’s hair. “I didn't do this, cariño, and I also have no idea what you were talking about yesterday. Writing that I was an abomination witch yesterday was pretty funny, but I think what you meant to say was wizard. Usually, a witch can only be a woman, which I clearly am not. Still gave me the best laugh I've had in months. But, no, I don't have anything to do with this.”
Luz's bubble of joy (associated with having a logical theory and credible explanation) suddenly popped. She quickly started running through all the other explanations she came up with. She blurted out what she considered to be her next best option, which filled her with new hope. “So, if you didn't do it, then my original theorem has been proven! Magic is real! There's no other explanation for how this happened! I finally have proof and can write a paper for one of those scientific magazines you and Mami are always reading!”
The principal crossed his arms and huffed, “well Mrs Noceda, I think we may have a bigger problem here. It seems that your daughter might not have been cheating, but she does seem to be having trouble telling reality apart from fantasy. The fact she doesn't even seem to remember writing nonsense on her own arm is quite disturbing. Have you ever considered taking her to see a psychiatrist?”
“Why would she need a psychiatrist? She seems like a normal girl with a rich imagination and a lot of creativity,” Manny retorted defensively.
“She clearly has problems focusing during class. She can't make friends with any of her peers. And now, it has become clear that she can't tell reality from her delusions,” the principal drawled on. “Last week, she did her social studies poster on another crazy lady who was banned from the coffee shop for trying to pay with a live raccoon. She put together a bunch of newspaper clippings with the claim that she had seen a real elf from the Lord of the Rings. I am not a medical professional, but I would say that she has ADHD at a minimum. Whether she is seeing or hearing things that are not there is above my pay grade. If I knew that kind of stuff, I wouldn't be sitting in this dingy office but have a nice one with a window and some live plants. All I can say is that getting her the proper medication would help her out, and maybe she would start getting better grades.”
“Can we leave now?” Camila asked while silencing her phone. “I have enough medical bills to deal with and don't need you adding to them. Between Manny’s treatments and everything going on at the clinic, I really don't have time to stand here and listen to you drone on about how you are not a doctor. How have you even kept your job all these years?”
“If you want to complain about me, I can give you the telephone numbers of my ex-wives,” the administrator responded, placing extra emphasis on the final syllable. “With a capital S,” he added to make sure his point was understood.
With an exasperated sigh, Camila grabbed her daughter with one hand and her backpack with the other, leading her family out of the cramped office. Once everyone was seated in the car, she let everyone know what was on her mind. “That cabrón! If I had known that he was going to waste half my afternoon with this stupidity, I would never have cancelled all those appointments. And Luz, I'm disappointed in you too. I don't really care what silly fantasy games you get into over the weekend, but doing them at school is unacceptable! Did you really think you were going to prove anything by drawing attention to yourself and showing off your handwriting as some proof of non-existent magic? And how come this is the first time I'm hearing about a social studies poster on some homeless lady? What grade did you even get on that?”
“I got a C. But she's not homeless, she's an elf. She's got pointy ears and white hair, just like in the movie. But she ran away when I tried to interview her,” Luz mumbled.
“Dios mío, please don't tell me that you actually tried to go talk to that lady. I saw her on the local news. That woman is an absolute lunatic.”
Luz said nothing in response and just huddled next to the car window and let her thoughts wander. Maybe she could look up on the computer what had happened to her. Surely, someone had something similar happen before. Maybe she could go and find some answers at the library tomorrow. Maybe there were some books on magic she hadn't read yet. Maybe she would find some answers and a real explanation. Maybe it was a prank someone else had pulled on her. Maybe it was all in her imagination and she was seeing things that weren't there. Maybe she did need to go get her head checked, as her principal suggested. Maybe just watching the rows of trees roll by would make her problems go away.
Notes:
Next up: Amity finds a new routine and unexpected source of comfort in her studies and new apprenticeship with Lilith.
Chapter 4: Oxford Comma
Summary:
Amity's patience is tested by a lesser basilisk. Lilith contemplates why she agreed to take another apprentice.
Notes:
So, this chapter was originally supposed to be First Day, but I realized that I needed to give an intro to Lilith's perspective first. So, what I first wrote will now be Chapter 5.
Also, got inspired by a few other fics and decided to include soundtracks for each chapter to capture the mood. So, presenting “Oxford Comma” by Vampire Weekend: https://youtu.be/P_i1xk07o4g .
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Amity spent the next week preparing for the entrance exam for admission to the emperor's coven track and advanced classes she would take as part of her apprenticeship under the esteemed Lilith Clawthorne. Her preparations gave her several unexpected benefits. The first was an excuse to take several days off from school and avoid any distractions. The second was being able to avoid her posse of so-called friends selected by her mother. Staying at home also meant putting off any awkward interactions with Willow after the “ink incident” as Amity had decided to name it. Finally, the twins had been strictly forbidden from pulling any pranks on her until after the exam. Amity was especially grateful for that last outcome and thought that it was one of the few times she had been glad to see her mother’s pink oracle pendant in action.
The exam material (per the brochure) was going to be relatively straightforward, from Amity's perspective. It would be a three-hour test that covered analytical spelling, arithmancy, and textual criticism. Although it was comparatively far longer and more difficult than the track placement exams her peers were currently taking (which simply required demonstrating mastery of two spells), these were areas in which Amity excelled. She was very thankful that the exam would not cover general education topics, such as history (which she abhorred) or anatomy (of which she knew almost nothing). In her view, the history classes at Hexside entirely ignored the socioeconomic forces driving historical events in favor of pointless memorization of dates and which coven heads battled which rebels. Although she knew portions of some other disciplines (to the extent that they crossed into abomination magic), she was unable to explain the difference between a bile sac and a gallbladder, not to mention accurately pointing to where they were in her body.
She made the most of her time to prepare by reviewing everything she could in utmost detail. The young witch drilled herself on the theory behind each of the basic spells, practiced her arithmancy with only the basic abacus that would be provided, and reviewed all the arcane vocabulary found within academic texts. She then spent the last two days retaking the practice exam given to her by Principal Bump at least three times until she had nearly memorized the questions. Although she wished she had more time to prepare, she knew that it would not make much of a difference at this point. Practicing into the night would just make her exhausted the next day, so she went to bed early.
The morning of the exam came and her parents dropped her off at a flat one-storey building outside Hexside with a large sign that read ‘ETS: Evaluation and Testing Services’. This center performed independent evaluations of students’ aptitudes and recommended the most suitable coven track for their intermediate and advanced studies. Upon entering the facility, she realized why she had heard some of her classmates say that ETS actually stood for Evil Testing Serpents. The building appeared to be staffed entirely by lesser basilisks.
Unlike their extinct cousin, the greater basilisk, which could shapeshift and suck magic out of witches and demons alike, lesser basilisks had no magical powers. The one power they did have was the remarkable ability to suck all joy out of anyone with nothing but a clipboard and enormous stacks of pointless paperwork.
With a groan, Amity approached the front counter and rang a small brass bell. A few moments later, a grey serpent with dirty blonde tufts appeared and pulled out a yellow slip of paper with the insignia of the potions coven from a drawer before yawning, “Name?”
“Amity Blight. I am here to take the entrance exam for the emperor's coven program,” Amity responded as politely as she could.
The basilisk pushed the glasses up on its nose higher before responding “Think you got your exams mixed up, miss. Based on how old you look, you should be here for the standard coven placement exams.”
“No, I do not have my exams mixed up. Here is my appointment slip for today at 10:30,” Amity said while sliding her schedule across the counter.
The basilisk read it twice and sighed dramatically. “Ugh, those incompetent administrators at Hexside are always handing out incorrect forms. Who scheduled you so that I can get the right form from them? Then you can come back another day and sit for the correct exam.”
“Principal Bump gave me this form. I can assure you that I know which test I am here to take.”
“Uh huh, I am going to go call him now to see what sort of mess he created this time,” the basilisk sneered.
Amity gritted her teeth, adding a terse “Yes, please do” as the administrator picked up a crystal ball and shuffled towards an empty cubicle. With nothing better to do than wait, the young witch sat down on a faded couch and practiced her breathing. It would be entirely self-defeating to lose focus over a piece of paperwork and fail the exam.
After several minutes, the basilisk returned and shouted, “Blight, please come to the counter.” Amity winced at the loud noise cutting through the hushed atmosphere of the building. It almost seemed that the staff were being loud on purpose to disrupt the test takers inside. Her suspicions were confirmed when another basilisk started feeding a dozen wooden pencils into a small sharpening demon that screamed shrilly as it honed the tip of each one.
“Which coven head gave you permission to take the exam for a scout apprenticeship?” the grey serpent demanded.
“Head Witch Darius Deamonne. I met with him about a week ago and he said that he would be willing to submit a recommendation for me to study under Ms. Lilith Clawthorne. Do you wish to call his office as well?” Amity inquired with as much professionalism as her strained patience would allow. She hoped that it would settle the matter and that the administrator would think it inappropriate to call a coven head over such a trivial matter. She was immediately proven wrong when the basilisk picked up the crystal ball again and dismissed her with the wave of a hand.
Fifteen minutes later, the Basilisk returned with a displeased expression and pulled out a grey slip of paper with the gold sigil of the emperor's coven before snapping, “You will have exactly one hour for each section of the exam. At the end of each hour, I will collect your answer sheet. You will be provided with a bottle of water and a basic abacus that you may use during the arithmancy section. You are not permitted to take anything inside the examination room and must empty all your pockets into this tray.”
Amity took the exam sheet and went inside the large, sterile-looking exam hall. Several rows of identical tables were pushed together in the center of the room. A dozen students of different grade levels were scattered across each row and worked furiously on make-up exams and placement tests. Several more tables with tall wooden dividers were arranged around the outer perimeter of the room. Above each table was a small demon that would likely scream if the student attempted to cheat. Without giving further thought to the palpable anxiety permeating the room, Amity sat in the far left corner of the room and began to answer each question in sequential order.
The three hours breezed by, only punctuated by occasional appearance of the grey basilisk to collect her answer sheet. Upon exiting, she stood by another counter at which a grading demon compiled her last answer sheet. After a few minutes, the grey basilisk stamped a grey and gold sheet of paper and handed it to Amity. “Well, I wasn't expecting that,” the administrator stated flatly. “The minimum passing grade to enter the emperor's coven program without taking remedial classes is 90 out of 100 on each section. So congratulations or whatever.”
Amity looked down at the sheet of paper and was elated to see the results. She had scored a 96 on both analytical spelling and textual criticism and a 93 in arithmancy. A slight sense of disappointment crept in that she had missed seven numerical questions as she was much better at numbers than at writing. But the satisfaction of passing the more abstract sections with flying colors filled her with newfound confidence.
Outside, her parents were waiting with a look of exhaustion. They had been waiting at least a half hour extra because of the delays caused by the basilisk’s crystal ball calls. Amity ran outside clutching the certificate with her results. “I passed! 96, 96, and 93!” the young witch exclaimed before continuing, “let's please go get something to eat. I haven't had a bite of food in nearly six hours.”
“Indeed, we expected nothing less. We have reserved a table at one of the best restaurants on this side of Bonesborough to celebrate,” her mother announced.
.…….………………………
Lilith sat at her desk and poked at a box of takeout lunch absentmindedly. She was supposed to have been reviewing coven payroll and some anomalies in expense reports filed by the Latissa field office, but her focus had been interrupted by a crystal ball call by a lesser basilisk that wanted verification of paperwork for a placement exam. Why the ETS staff thought it was appropriate to call her unannounced continued to baffle Lilith. She half suspected that one of her subordinates may have given the ETS administrators her direct number as payback for a bad performance evaluation.
With all desire to do any more paperwork sucked out of her by the previous call, she had spent the last hour alternating between staring out the window and glaring at the stack of financial forms on her desk. Her motivation to do any productive work was gone, along with most of the overcooked takeout that she had ordered for lunch.
Her mind wandered to the question of why she had agreed to take another protege. Her previous mentees had been disappointing for a variety of reasons. Some were children of small-town politicians outside Bonesborough seeking to demonstrate their loyalty to the Emperor. Others were children of wealthy families seeking to gain insider connections and the favor of the coven heads. There were one or two students with actual talent, but they rarely stayed with the emperor's coven program for longer than a month or two. After about a dozen failed attempts to find an apprentice, Lilith had largely given up.
A few of the other coven heads, such as Terra Snapdragon, had been pushing her to take another protégé, but she had refused. She now only considered taking the youngest daughter of the Blight family based on the recommendation of Principal Bump. The old witch had supervised many students over the years, including Lilith herself. If he saw potential in Amity, she was willing to take him at his word. In the worst case, she could use the apprenticeship as leverage in negotiation of prices for equipment supplied by Blight Industries. In the best case, she may have found someone worthy of her time and emotional energy.
However, taking an apprentice as young as Amity came with a new set of problems with which Lilith had not dealt before. The simplest was that her new student would need to be escorted around the castle at all times. That could be solved easily enough by bringing a second desk into her office and letting the youngest Blight do her homework and coven assignments there. When Lilith needed to be in closed-door meetings with the other coven heads, her trusted right hand, Steve, could keep an eye on the girl.
The next issue was that Amity did not have a palisman and certainly could not be trusted to fly an airship safely across the island from Hexside to the castle. That meant that someone would need to transport her every day for their lessons together and then back home. Although Lilith hoped that Alador or Odalia would be responsible enough to do so, she suspected that the task would soon fall to her as both Blight parents had a reputation for never being punctual.
The last issue was the stipulation by Principal Bump that Lilith had to supervise her young protege during any of the ‘more dangerous’ lab activities performed by students in the advanced track. The upperclassmen in the emperor's coven program were regularly expected to practice offensive and defensive spells against each other. Mock duels between unsupervised witches from the abominations and potions track often resulted in significant collateral damage. During their initial conversation, Bump clearly wanted to wash his hands off any responsibility for disruptions or property damage the youngest Blight might cause. As a result, Lilith would have to spend a substantial amount of time at Hexside, which meant time away from the castle and not building her own career. Despite the annoyance caused by the stack of financial reports currently staring back at Lilith, stepping away from her responsibilities to chaperone an apprentice around school could potentially turn into a bigger sacrifice than she had anticipated.
The more she thought about it, the more this apprenticeship sounded like she was halfway to adopting the girl. Darius’s comment about her having found herself a daughter had upset her rather badly, but she now saw that he may have had a valid point. She enjoyed her solitude and lack of romantic or parental responsibilities. It gave her time to read and work on her own side projects. More importantly, it allowed her to build her career without distractions. Now, there was a real possibility that she would lose this freedom.
However, her common sense and practical side were being overridden by a new emotion. There was something about Amity that strongly reminded Lilith of herself at the same age.
The real reason that the head witch had agreed to this apprenticeship was to protect the girl from the brutal treatment that she had experienced herself in the emperor's coven program at Hexside. Lilith had been 14 years old when she was admitted to the program on a similar merit-based exception. However, there had been nobody to support her at the time. Coming from a family with a reputation for dabbling in wild magic, her teachers often singled out her work when it was time to point out ‘logical fallacies’ in reports submitted by the class for special projects. The older students made fun of her studious nature and called her ‘Raven Taco’ after figuring out they could roll her up inside the large maps of the island and then eat her lunch. Edalyn had fully embraced a self-declared title of Lord Calamity and spent all her time causing chaos across the school (much like Amity's older siblings).
Things became substantially worse after she had cursed her younger sister. It was supposed to be a tit-for-tat payback for an illusion spell that Eda had cast to make Lilith sprout feathers and start clucking like a harpy chicken while making a speech to the student assembly. Without knowledge of such advanced illusion magic, Lilith went to the night market and bought a scroll that supposedly would temporarily turn her sister into an owl. Unfortunately, the scroll proved to be of a much more nefarious nature and with permanent effects. After the owl beast materialized, their parents devoted all of their attention to Edalyn and acted as if Lilith did not even exist (unless there happened to be an eligible suitor to whom she could be married off).
She foresaw a similar future for Amity if she were to study under any of the other coven heads. During the handful of times she had seen the girl tagging behind her parents during business negotiations for Blight industries, Lilith had noticed how attentive Amity had been to whatever was said and how hard she tried to gain the recognition of her elders by showing off her knowledge of abomination theory. The girl acted more like a new hire employee trying to make a good impression on their first day on the job, rather than a soon-to-be teenager. With that level of enthusiasm and misplaced confidence in her academic knowledge, she would likely be crushed by the social hierarchy of the emperor's coven program. For that reason, she had agreed to be her mentor despite all the headache it would likely cause.
With the issue settled in her mind, Lilith discarded the leftovers of her lunch and turned instead to proofreading a report to be filed with Bonesborough library. As much as she appreciated the level of detail in the report, the number of punctuation mistakes was horrifying. The lack of commas at the end of each list was even more appalling. Fueled by an overwhelming need to rectify the situation, Lilith picked up a red pen and immediately started adding missing commas, semicolons, and ellipses in the correct places.
Notes:
Next up, Amity and Lilith have their first lesson together.
Chapter 5: High, High Hopes
Summary:
Amity enrolls in the Emperor's Coven program and has her first meeting with Lilith
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Soundtrack: the Sinatra style cover of “High Hopes” by Panic! at the Disco: https://youtu.be/SGvo_YY3GkE . I thought this version does a much better job of capturing the snobbish tastes of the Blight family, where pop music would be banned
On Fireday, Amity’s parents dropped her off at Hexside early, giving her enough time to compose herself before her meeting with Principal Bump. She walked to her locker and sat down on a bench to sort the contents of her school bag. Along with her textbooks and a couple binders of notes, there was a new purple portfolio with the initials “A.B.” stamped in gold ink. She withdrew the folio and double-checked the papers inside. In the left pocket were her exam results, typed in small font on the grey and gold letterhead of the emperor's coven. The opposite pocket contained her application forms and academic transcript, nearly arranged so that the corner of each page aligned exactly with the others. After confirming everything was in its place, she set the folio down and heaved her bag into her locker.
After a couple deep breaths, Amity pulled down the hem of her pink Abominations Track uniform and marched down the hall to Principal Bump's office. She knocked on the door precisely as the morning bell screamed. The head of the school opened the door with a pleasant gesture and motioned Amity to the chair across from his desk. As she sat down, she took in the surroundings. The only other time she had been in Bump's office was when she first enrolled at Hexside several years ago. Tall, arched windows complimented the arched ceiling and filled the room with natural light. The walls were covered by numerous bookshelves, stacked neatly with prior course catalogs, procedural guides, several antique weapons, a few marble busts, and at least one encyclopspedia. The banners of the nine covens hung on the wall above the principal's chair.
“Good morning, Principal Bump, how are you doing today?” inquired Amity.
The principal sighed, “besides dealing with a fairy infestation on the second floor and the usual plumbing leaks in the gymnasium, the day is going fine. How about you, Miss Blight?”
“Very well, thank you. I have brought you my exam results and application forms for starting advanced classes in the Emperor's Coven track,” she said, sliding the purple folio across the desk. “I know that the staff at ETS brought up the matter of my age, but I believe you can see that my exam scores speak for themselves.”
“Impressive indeed,” murmured Bump as he pulled the score sheet from its pocket. “You will still have to convince your new teachers of your readiness, but it appears that you are up for such a challenge. To the best of my knowledge, you would be the youngest student ever admitted to the program. I hope that you are not expecting anyone to go easier on you in terms of grading and academic expectations because of your age or family connections.”
“Certainly not, Principal Bump. I have high hopes for this opportunity. To be something greater … go make a legacy … it's a little complicated,” she gestured before trailing off. After a few seconds, she composed her thoughts and continued, “I want to be the strongest abomination witch on the Isles and this is a way for me to do it. I am willing to put in the work to achieve that, just like everyone else. If you admit me to the program, I promise that I won't disappoint you.”
“Very well, it seems that you have a response for every counterargument, so I am not going to waste our time and let you deal with any skeptics yourself. If you keep a low profile and build your reputation based on your academic work, then you will be fine,” Bump responded before rising from the table and walking to a filing cabinet demon. Amity moved to stand up as well, but the principal motioned her to remain seated. He gathered the forms from her folio and walked to a tall filing cabinet. A minute later, he returned with several papers which he passed across the desk. “Here is your new schedule and mentorship agreement form to be signed by Head Witch Lilith Clawthorne. A full courseload at the advanced level is 12 or more credits per academic quarter. When you are old enough, you can also participate in a work study program that provides a weekly personal allowance for out-of-pocket expenses not covered by tuition fees paid by your parents.”
Bump handed Amity a schedule document while explaining the contents. “Your new classes start on Moanday. For your first quarter, I have enrolled you in Newtonian Arithmancy 151, Advanced Abomination Theory 113, and Coven Careers 100. The last one is only a two credit course that meets on Toesday and Thumbsday so that your first semester is not too overwhelming. These classes will be much more difficult than your previous ones, which means that you will take only two or three classes every morning rather than six or seven classes a day, as you did before. You will then spend the afternoon doing self-directed study under the supervision of your mentor. Any questions?”
“When can I pick up the required textbooks?” asked Amity.
“Textbooks for the advanced classes are selected by the course instructor, rather than by the school. The Book Nook in Bonesborough offers most of them for sale. Some, such as Coven Careers don't have a formal textbook and instead rely entirely on in-class handouts and guest speakers. For that reason, even though some instructors don't take attendance, missing even a single day can be detrimental to your grades as there will be no way to make up the material. With that said, your academic record will reset upon entering the new program, so you cannot count on your previous grades boosting your point average”
“Makes sense, thank you. Is there anything else I need to do to complete my enrollment? Is there a new uniform or do I keep my Abomination Track colors?”
“Ah yes, thank you for reminding me,” Bump said while standing up. He spun a small spell circle, which formed another larger green circle around Amity's feet. The circle rose, replacing the magenta of her stockings and sleeves with soft grey. A single band of gold appeared on the right cuff of her shirt.
“Classy,” Amity remarked while half-turning to examine her new outfit. “Why do I see hardly anyone wearing this uniform in the main halls of Hexside?” she inquired.
“That's because the advanced classes are taught in extension buildings on the other side of the grudgby fields. Those students seldom join the main classes, except for a handful picked to be teacher's assistants. That, by the way, would be a good goal for you to work towards,” Bump encouraged her.
“Understood,” Amity acknowledged before pausing. “If it's not inappropriate, is there anything you can tell me about Head Witch Clawthorne, my mentor?” she asked hesitantly.
Bump sighed, “I can’t tell you much as she keeps to herself and does not participate in the usual coven gossip. I was assistant principal when she was a student here at Hexside. She was a lot like you. Very driven, wanted to succeed, also enrolled in the Emperor's Coven program at a young age, but she was two years older than you. She is generally cold towards everyone but extremely protective of a select few, like a mother raven. Your relationship will either be extremely close or fail right away, leaving you to find a new mentor. So far, none of her apprenticeships have lasted for more than a few months, so the odds are against you.”
“Thank you,” the young witch said with genuine gratitude. “I will do my best to live up to her expectations. Is there anything else that I need to do?”
“Not for me. Your mentor will arrive here at noon to pick you up for your first lesson together. Until then, you are free to attend your regular classes or go purchase the required textbooks and materials for next week.”
“In that case, I will excuse myself. Thank you again, Principal Bump, for offering me this opportunity,” Amity said. She collected her empty folio from the table and gave a slight bow before leaving the room.
As she stepped out into the corridor, she dusted a few specs of dust off her new uniform and walked back to her locker with her head held high. It would still be a few more minutes before the class bell would scream again and send torrents of other students into the hallways. She appreciated the relative silence of the school, at least while it lasted.
After tickling her locker under its jaw and retrieving her bag, she sorted its contents. The textbooks from her current classes were unceremoniously chuckled back into the locker, triggering it to cough loudly. The binders of notes would still be useful as she had meticulously transcribed countless weeks of abomination lessons in her own handwriting and might need to go back and reference them at some point. The new purple portfolio was restocked with blank paper and placed gently in a separate pocket. She would use it for her afternoon lesson with Miss Clawthorne.
The locker snapped its mouth shut, sending a couple stray papers fluttering to the ground. She picked them up and contemplated how she wanted to spend the rest of the morning. Her responsible side told her to attend the remaining sessions of her previous classes. Her practical side knew that it made no difference and that she would benefit from some fresh air.
Her reverie was broken by the scream of the second bell and dozens of students pouring into the hallway like water dumped from a large jug. As she glanced up and down the hallway, she saw Willow approaching from one direction and Boscha from the other. Although Amity generally needed company and someone to talk to, she was not in the mood to see either of them. She grabbed her bag and made a quick exit via one of the small corridors.
After a few twists and turns, she found herself in front of the large double doors leading to the grudgby courts. The corridors of Hexside had a strange ability to deliver students to the correct destination when they were late for class but then turned into an incomprehensible labyrinth for anyone who was not in a rush. Counting it as a sign to leave the building, Amity quietly slipped outside and took a deep breath.
The air was less pungent than usual due to a strong marine breeze blowing in from the Boiling Sea. She crossed the sports fields without being ensnared by any of the traps and began to study the signs outside the extension buildings. The potions and healing tracks shared a new three-storey building that seemed surprisingly clean and inviting. Across from it was a much older building that also had three stories and was adorned with the sigils of the abominations and construction covens. A short distance away, was a small complex of squat flat-roofed buildings with the sigils of the bard, illusions, and oracle covens. Amity chose not to walk further in that direction as a peculiarly foul smell of forgotten socks seeped from those buildings, especially that of the oracle track. In the center of the courtyard was a large pond with a fountain and a statue of the emperor. A few students wearing similar grey and gold uniforms chatted on a wooden bridge crossing the pond.
Satisfied with the location, she decided to go to the Book Nook next to buy her textbooks. It was a short but pleasant walk through the center of Bonesborough to the bookstore. A bell jangled overhead as she entered, alerting an older witch with large glasses who asked what books the girl wished to buy. After a minute of rummaging in her bag, Amity presented her schedule to the bookseller who nodded and led her to a far corner of the store. Dozens of textbooks were neatly stacked on the shelves.
Amity quickly located the books she needed for her arithmancy and abominations theory classes but then nearly dropped them when she saw the price scrawled underneath. Each book cost more than 150 snails, which was far more than her monthly allowance (not to mention what was currently in the small pouch in her pocket).
Amity quickly apologized to the bookseller, stating that she would need to return with her parents and ask them to buy the books for her. She then turned and made a hurried exit from the store. It was now approaching ten o’clock, leaving two more hours before her meeting with Miss Clawthorne. She decided to pay a visit to the Bonesborough library, where books did not cost a finger and a toe. There was a chance that she could even find a book by the human warrior that Head Witch Darius had recommended.
The hushed atmosphere of the library was a pleasant change of pace from the hustle and bustle of Bonesborough and the market square. Countless rows of bookcases formed a small labyrinth that Amity had nearly memorized. She walked through each section sorting by author for the surname Lee. It was not a common name in the Boiling Isles, so she was able to search through the fiction, non-fiction, history, art, and reference sections in half an hour. She had found works by a few witches by the names of Madeline Lee, Sylveris Lee, and Eldric Lee, but no Bruce Lee.
She went upstairs and gazed down from the balcony, contemplating where else she might find a book by a human author. Several witches wearing Hexside uniforms streamed in through the towering front doors of the library. One of the students, who was much younger than the others, broke away from the group and headed directly up the stairs and then ran to the very back of the library where unsorted books were usually kept.
Amity’s curiosity was piqued, so she decided to follow him to see what could be of such interest. After quietly searching a few rows containing discarded textbooks, she found a dimly lit section with a small sign ‘unsorted human literature’. Hunched over a brightly colored picturebook was a young witch with curly black hair, dressed in the colors of the illusion track. He reminded her a lot of the evening newscaster she had seen on the crystal ball. Before she could say a word, he disappeared with a poof of blue smoke.
Amity knew that trick far too well from her siblings and prodded the region of air behind her with an outstretched finger as soon as she felt a slight breeze rustle her hair. Her finger collided with the shoulder of the young illusionist who jumped back with a yelp when his spell was broken.
“How did you know I was there?” he exclaimed.
“When both your older siblings are illusionists who love to pull pranks on you, you learn to figure out where people are really quickly,” Amity said dryly. “Hey, you seem to know this section surprisingly well. Are there any books by a human named Bruce Lee?” she asked before the boy could run away.
The expression of the young illusionist switched from panic to surprise. “You mean you weren't trying to catch me?” he asked.
“No, why would I be here to … oh, right … new uniform …” Amity trailed off. “No, I am looking for a particular human book that was recommended to me by Head Witch Darius Deamonne. He said that it could help me in my abomination magic studies.”
The grey eyes of the illusionist somehow grew even larger. “Are you saying that not only I'm not in trouble but also that one of the coven heads is also secretly a fan of human culture? This is the best day of my life!” he exclaimed.
“Yeah, surprised me too,” Amity chuckled. “So, can you help me find that book? Last name is Lee.”
“Yes, there's one book over here but it made no sense at all. It only talks about how to beat up other humans,” the younger witch said while diving into a disorganized heap of books piled in a corner. After a minute of rummaging, he retrieved a tattered black book with the face of a young man raising two fists. The cover read ‘Tao of Jeet Kune Do.’
“I don't believe it,” Amity said. “I would have spent hours searching for this book, and it would have never occurred to me to look in that pile. Thank you. I should get going now.”
“You're welcome, I guess? If you want more human books, you can come join us for the human appreciation society meeting. I'm Augustus.”
“I'm Amity. Amity Blight,” she said while placing her hand on her chest and making a slight bow. “I also go to Hexside, so I might see you around. Now, I do have to leave, or I'll be late.”
Clutching the book close to herself, she quietly trotted down the staircase to check out her new acquisition. A few minutes later, she was back outside and making her way back to the school. As she drew near, she realized that Principal Bump had not told her where she was supposed to meet her new mentor. The halls inside were a maze of identical corridors arranged radially around a central vestibule. She doubted that the head witch would remember where the abominations wing was located, so that was out of the question. Principal Bump's office was a logical meeting location, but she felt that it would be rather awkward to stand beside his door for an unknown amount of time. The front steps of Hexside appeared to be a sound choice, so she went there and sat on the top step.
She had twenty minutes, so she opened her bag and pulled out her new human treasure. The pages were filled with a mix of notes and hand-drawn illustrations of humans kicking each other. A quote in an exceptionally large font caught her eye: ‘Empty your mind.’ The meaning behind the phrase perplexed her deeply. How was one supposed to empty one’s mind? It sounded dangerous.
As she studied the contents of the pages, she became aware that a figure in a tall black dress had silently appeared behind her at some point. She quickly stood up and turned around to face her new mentor. Lilith appeared even taller than Amity had remembered from their previous interactions. Her long black hair fluttered in the breeze and contrasted sharply with her bright green eyes.
“Greetings, Miss Clawthorne! I'm sorry I didn't notice that you had arrived. I hope that I did not keep you waiting for too long,” she apologized.
“Not at all. Hello, Amity. May I ask what book you were reading?” the head witch responded in a voice that was soft but authoritative.
“I still don't know how to say the title, but Head Witch Darius said that it could help me in my understanding of abomination theory,” Amity answered, handing the book to her mentor.
Lilith thumbed through the pages and then nodded. “Building your physical strength and fighting skills seems wise. Were you reading this just to show off to me?”
Amity spluttered and turned slightly red. “Uhh, no, this morning was the first chance I had to go to the library and find this book. I probably should have been paying attention to when you arrived or focusing on my assigned textbooks.”
“Studious indeed,” the raven-haired witch hummed. “Would you like to go out for lunch and discuss your apprenticeship?”
“I would indeed. I'm actually quite hungry,” Amity acknowledged.
Fifteen minutes later, the two witches were seated at a small bakery in central Bonesborough. Lilith ordered a bitterbean brew and scram sandwich. Amity gave into impulse and bought a freshly-baked fairy pie.
The older witch was the first one to break the food-induced silence. “So, your mother told me that your dream is to join the emperor's coven and follow in my footsteps.”
Amity realized it was a test and swallowed hard. “Yes, that is true. Your career path is admirable, and I am humbled by the opportunity to have you as a mentor.”
Lilith set down her sandwich and narrowed her eyes. “If you think you will get anywhere by feeding me that heap of griffin waste, you're wrong. Repeat back one more of your mother's sweet-tongued lies, and I will walk right out this door and cancel our apprenticeship. Understood?”
Amity only nodded, her pupils blown wide in alarm. She could not imagine the amount of humiliation she would receive at home if her parents found out that she failed on her first day.
“Now, tell me why you are working so hard to get this. Is this what you actually want? Is your mother forcing you into this for her own reputation? What is the real reason?”
Amity realized that she was backed into a corner and the formalities she had been taught would get her into even more trouble. She picked up her fork and then clutched it with both hands. “You’re right,” she said quietly. “I don't really want to lead the emperor's coven or be any sort of public figure. I want to be the strongest abomination witch on the Isles. My friend’s fathers read me these human books about airships that could take them to the stars. I want to do something like that, but I will never learn enough in the basic Hexside program to do that. Head Witch Darius made that very clear but said he had no time to babysit me. So, this is the opportunity for me to get ahead, skip ahead several years, and work my way up to the top. And not by starting at the bottom as an airship mechanic the way my father suggested.”
Lilith stood up and walked around the table to behind Amity’s chair and placed her hands on the shoulders of her new apprentice. Amity winced slightly at the unexpected touch but then relaxed slightly upon sensing no anger radiating from her elder.
“Good, you do have enough courage to talk about your dreams, no matter how silly they sound. Being able to do that is actually a sign of strength, not weakness,” the raven-haired head witch reassured in a low voice. “Did Darius actually use the word ‘babysit’ when he declined to be your direct mentor?”
“He did. I was actually quite offended when he did but I never said anything. I am very much able to behave myself in class.”
Lilith sighed, “just so that you know, that is exactly what I am going to be doing for the next few years. I expect to sacrifice a good chunk of my career just to escort you around Hexside and the castle, all so that you have a chance to get a better education.”
Amity spun around with a shocked look. “Why would you do such a thing for me, Miss Clawthorne? What did I do to get this kind of attention? Wait … do you owe my parents money?” Amity stopped short and turned bright red, horrified that the last sentence had accidentally slipped out.
Lilith lost her stony-faced composure and snorted at the tomato-like expression of her mentee. “Oh, what a cruel world we live in if that was where your little head first went. You are too young to be thinking about debts and finance and that kind of stuff.” She paused and half-tilted her head in contemplation before continuing, “or maybe not. You're not wrong that Blight Industries contributes the most funding and all the advanced weapons used by the Emperor's Coven. I would be lying if I said that didn't factor into my choice to take you as my apprentice, but the real reason is that I wanted to protect you from what I went through when I was in the EC advanced program.”
“Why would you want to protect me? Nobody here does that. There are always some sort of strings attached, some hidden clause in the deal. What's the catch here? What do you want from me?”
The older witch returned to her seat and picked up her sandwich, gazing at it for an extended period of time before answering. “There's a strange thing that happens when you get older. You start caring about your legacy - what you will leave behind when you leave this world. In the tradition of old times, it was having an apprentice that would match or even exceed your own skills. My father was a palisman carver, as was his father, as was his father, going back many generations. But my sister and I both went for the potions track, and now I have no child of my own. My father lost his ability to carve after an accident that I was largely responsible for. There's no legacy for me to leave behind except a trail of many mistakes. Perhaps if I can mentor one successful witch, turn her into a shining star, then I won't consider myself a failure. I have high, high hopes for you. I want to see you rewrite your history, light up your wildest dreams, museum victories everyday. Hopefully, that makes a little sense.”
Lilith then fell silent and turned her attention to the remainders of her sandwich.
Notes:
My real-life writing duties are kicking my posterior this month with reports due on four different projects. So, might be a couple weeks before I can get the next chapter out.
Chapter 6: Where Will the Raindrops Go
Summary:
Boiling rain sends the mentor/protégé duo home early. Amity gets a hug.
Notes:
19,000 words of report writing later, I've finally got a new chapter. This and next couple chapters will be fluff before things start heating up in both realms.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Soundtrack: “Where Will the Raindrops Go” by TOFIE: https://youtu.be/AN6lFDNmvks . If you haven't heard any of her songs, I think she is seriously underrated.
Several weeks had passed since Amity started her studies with Lilith, allowing the two witches to find a new daily rhythm. Amity would wake up early and dress for school in the new, seemingly more formal attire of the emperor's coven program. The grey and gold of the uniform suited her well, matching the gold of her eyes. After combing her auburn hair and tying it up with a gold ribbon, she would pack only the essentials she needed for the day.
Since she no longer needed a half-dozen textbooks, she discarded her purple backpack (with its floppy ears that now embarrassed the young witch) in favor of an elegant black leather briefcase just big enough to carry her notes, a set of colored pens, and a handful of snails.
Most mornings, her father would fly her and the twins to Hexside in the family airship. Half of the reason was to ensure that everyone was on time and half was to prevent her older siblings from skipping school and causing chaos in Bonesborough. She generally preferred to skip breakfast at home and instead ask her father to make a detour by one of the bakeries near Hexside for a cup of hot embermilk and an eight grave roll.
Somehow, whenever she attempted to make the drink at home, it was always too bitter or lumpy or an unappealing tan color. The one from the baking coven always had the perfect amount of firebee honey, snorsebean, and emberbark that would warm her up from the inside on a chilly morning. The eight grave roll was equally perfect - a small savory muffin that was filled with eight types of ground grains andcould be broken into four pieces. She especially liked the flavor of the bloodseed grains sprinkled on top. The earthiness of the thunderwheat and charbarley harvested from the lower slopes of the knee made the bread very filling and kept her going until lunchtime.
She much appreciated the shorter but more intense schoolday. The speed at which professor Hermonculus covered material kept her on her toes, leaving no opportunities to space out or start doodling in the margins of her notes. Instead, she would come out of each class with at least five pages of notes and solved problems in abomination theory.
However, the group projects were turning into a minor source of frustration as they kept rotating teams that included students from other tracks. Amity found it somewhat contradictory that the whole system of hocus-focus seemed to have been thrown out for students in the Emperor's Coven program. They were only given a vague explanation that as scouts they needed to understand the basic principles of every track so that they would not be defeated by a witch of a different specialty.
Somehow, she had been placed on teams with members from the Bard and Oracle tracks who were taking the class as a required technical elective. Her first partner tried singing to the abomination to get it to run faster, which only distracted Amity, resulting in their team placing dead last during the class competition. Abominations themselves were actually deaf and responded by the ability of the witch to form a mental connection with the shapeless mass of fluid and then imagine what motions it needed to perform. Saying commands aloud, such as “rise” or “cower” were more of mental aid allowing the summoning witch to keep track of each set of motions. Any form of song or music was utterly wasted on the purple golems.
Her second lab partner was a tall oracle witch who enjoyed entertaining the class by telling them their future before class started. One morning, she made the mistake of reading the future of their abomination in the middle of class. Amity was planning on separating it back out into its component ingredients that afternoon so that she could try using less stabilizing powder. The girl was so terrified of the vision of their abomination being torn apart into separate pieces of red clay and bluish fluid that she screamed aloud in the middle of Professor Hermonculus’ monologue and passed out under the desk. Amity nearly died of second-hand embarrassment.
Her other classes offered less awkward moments. Arithmancy was dry and practical, although the professor would try his best to liven up the class by telling funny stories about the flock of cockatrice that he kept at home. In contrast, the coven careers class was taught by an unusually energetic member of the Emperor's Coven named Flora D’splora. Unlike the other scouts who wore subdued grey uniforms, Flora flaunted her reputation as an adventurer and wore a dark magenta jacket with orange jodhpur pants tucked into knee-high boots. Lilith had on a few occasions called the outfit garish and more befitting of a street entertainer than a professor.
Amity had yet to determine the source of hostilities between the two women, but it seemed that everything about Flora annoyed Lilith, from her bobbed hairstyle to her voice to her aggrandizing narratives of the types of adventures that she had embarked on with her faithful troop of scouts. Amity thought that some of the presentations given did seem to be stretching the facts a little but none were deserving of the ridicule and sidebar commentary offered by Lilith when she would recount the morning over a cup of soup at lunchtime.
Three days a week, Amity had a two hour break between her abomination theory and arithmancy classes. She generally opted to cross the small bridge over the central pond and spend her time in the building for potions and healing magic courses. It was newer and unexpectedly smelled better than her own building. The potions track wing in the main halls of Hexside was absolutely rancid, so Amity suspected that this building had the same high-end ventilation system as the Blight Industries factory.
On the first floor was a stand that sold not-dogs and bitterbean brews to satisfy the overworked students specializing in healing magic. The second floor and third floors had large study halls with tall windows just below the tops of the tall red conifer trees. Amity loved the atmosphere of the space and would snag a desk by a window and spread her notes out, frequently marveling at its smooth surface. The tabletops were made from some sort of synthetic crystal that was entirely clear and filled with tiny bubbles of air. She had never seen anything like it before and often contemplated how it had been made.
Most days, Lilith would fly in on her raven palisman and meet her by the fountain in the middle of the courtyard at noon. They would then have a simple lunch at one of the many small shops operated by the baking coven. Lilith had once read a human pamphlet about something called “carbohydrates” and that they were supposedly needed for proper brain function. This meant that she usually bought each of them a bowl of toetato stew with a large piece of bread and a small pastry.
Amity liked it far more than either her mother's choices (usually small portions of meat with various sauces drizzled on a comically large plate) or her father's hurried meals of a not-dog and scries. After lunch, they would fly together on Lilith's staff either to the castle or to one of the local precincts where the head witch had an office. Lilith seemed to prefer going into the field more as there was less security and she could let Amity work quietly on her homework at an adjacent table pushed up against the window. At the end of the day, the two would practice new spells or exercise in the yard behind the precinct station. Sometime before sundown, Alador would come and pick her up in time for a family dinner.
Amity enjoyed the routine and the amount of personal freedom that Lilith gave her. As long as Amity had solved all the practice problems in the textbook and read the next chapter ahead in preparation for classes that week, her mentor was satisfied. The head witch would also ask her protégé to break down the spells step by step and then guide Lilith on how to do them herself. On a few occasions, the young witch began to question whether she had more knowledge of abstract abomination theory than her mentor, but Lilith explained that the only way to gain true mastery of a subject was to be able to teach it herself. And so their lessons went on.
Thumbsday that week dawned with heavy grey skies that promised of boiling rain by evening. As Amity sleepily shuffled out of the house and towards the family airship, she sniffed the air cautiously. It already smelled of scorched acid, and the pungent aroma only became stronger as they became airborne. Due to the risk of being stricken by the fumes if they flew into the clouds, Alador flew close to the ground, swerving occasionally to avoid other witches and tall buildings.
By the time they landed, Amity's disposition was about as dark as the gathering rain clouds. Her sour mood only lightened slightly with a cup of embermilk and a couple candied fairies. She normally avoided sweets, but today she needed to rip the crystalized wings off a few of the pests to avoid ripping off the heads of her classmates, figuratively speaking.
The abominations class was uneventful until Professor Hermonculus announced that their next group project would be building a miniature abomination bridge two cubits in length. The three construction students in the back of the class immediately made it clear they would be the winners by cracking their knuckles and then elbow-bumping each other. The rest of the class groaned for the obvious reason that abominations were controllable due to their fluidity. Trying to keep one stationary and rigid enough to form a bridge would be an exercise in frustration.
Coven Careers class featured a guest seminar by a scout who specialized in beastkeeping and told a few tales of the types of monsters that wandered around the isles during the boiling rain, devouring hapless witches. The most terrifying one that she had encountered was a white owl beast with black eyes that was unphased by the rain and immune to all spells. Amity took notes halfheartedly to show that she was paying attention, but she hardly shared the enthusiasm of her older classmates.
The arithmancy lecture focused on slopes of curves and how everything was actually straight if you zoomed in enough. While there was a certain visual elegance to the idea, her professor had yet to explain any practical purposes for the idea.
As the young witch stepped out of the classroom into the bustling hallway, she was surprised to see Lilith already waiting for her with a look of impatience. “Hello Miss Clawthorne, you're early today. Is something happening?” she greeted in as pleasant a tone as she could, considering the gloomy weather and her disappointment in the new group assignment from her first class.
“Yes, rain, especially severe rain, will be starting soon. I wanted to get you and go home as soon as I could,” her mentor answered hurriedly. She then grabbed ther protégé’s hand and walked to the side door of the building as quickly as her long skirt would allow. A few moments later, they were sailing over the tall clocktower of Hexside and towards the Titan’s head.
“Where are we going? The castle and the local precinct station are both the other way,” Amity inquired.
“To my house on the far side of Bonesborough. It's on a tall hill and is safe from any creatures that might be flushed out from their hiding places if the town begins to flood,” her mentor answered while gaining even more speed.
A few minutes later, the pair had streaked over all of Bonesborough and touched down in a large garden. Lilith’s house was a fraction of the size of Blight Manor, but was still quite large by Bonesborough standards. It had two stories, large front windows, and a small balcony. The lower floor was built of rough-hewn stone while the upper floor was built of wood, painted the same shade of misty grey that Lilith seemed to love. In front of the house was a well-tended lawn of red grass and a metal torch-light with square panes of glass. To the left of the house was a stone retaining wall that wrapped around the house. It formed a half-sunken passageway between the house and hillside and was closed off at the front by a tall metal gate. Behind the garden wall, Amity could make a second garden in the rear of the house with numerous red and yellow flowers inside.
Lilith lit the streetlamp and then proceeded to cast an enormous shield spell over the entire house and garden. She then extended her arms to their full extent a second time and spun a second spell circle that created a shimmering blue barrier around the perimeter of the yard. After checking the integrity of the dome, the head witch flopped on the lawn with a look of slight exhaustion.
Amity gazed in amazement at the size and complexity of the dome created by her mentor. While most witches knew how to cast a shield spell against the rain, it was usually no larger than the abomination umbrellas sold by Blight Industries. This spell was large enough to protect not only the house but also most of the garden from the withering raindrops. When Amity poked the barrier with her finger, she felt a sudden wave of dizziness and realized that no witch, demon, or Eldritch beast would be able to cross that force field without being knocked unconscious. It unexpectedly provided her a sense of safety that none of her father's security gadgets or her mother's oracle wards ever did.
Amity extended a hand to her mentor, who was still lying in the red grass, helping her to rise to her feet again. Together, they walked to the front door, which Lilith opened with a small, ornate silver key. The foyer blended into the other rooms via a curved stone wall. To the right was a spacious living room that appeared to have been converted into a library. Rows of bookshelves lined the walls, only separated by the large windows that nearly reached the floor. In the middle of the room was a low table, roughly knee-high, with an arrangement of grey and gold floor cushions scattered around it. To the left of the entryway was a washroom whose floor and countertops were made of elegant white tile.
Straight ahead, the passageway curved around into a sunroom that looked out into the garden. Countless flowers (that Amity did not know the names of) grew outside, now protected from the rain by the dome. An upright harpsichord stood in one corner of the room, but seemed to be used more as a mantlepiece shelf, with several vases of dried herbs and flowers stacked on top. Lilith’s palisman fluffed its wings and nestled down among the vases. Adjacent to the sunroom was the kitchen, featuring a large brown oven and cooking range. At the far end was a hexagonal breakfast nook, with a tall, round table and four barstools in the exact center.
Amity sat down at one of the barstools while her mentor addressed the matter of lunch. Less than two minutes later, Lilith appeared with two plates of small sandwiches and glasses of a beige drink. “I hope that iron gutwurst and fiddlehead frond sandwiches with seedmilk are okay with you,” the older witch announced while setting the plates on the table with a clatter.
As Amity took a bite of the sandwich, her eyes grew wide in surprise. The flavors danced on her tongue, with a trace of screaming pepper that was balanced out by the fresh crispness of the vegetable. It was simple but sublime. Each bite was light and comforting. In a few moments, she had finished off the entire plate. With a contented sigh, she drained the glass of seedmilk, savoring its earthy flavor.
“Miss Clawthorne, I think I could eat this every day for the rest of my life and never complain. Thank you so much,” she said after carefully wiping her mouth with a folded napkin.
“Do you want more?” Lilith asked. “There is still more in the ice box.”
“No, please, I don't want to bother you. You were already kind enough to prepare this,” Amity answered quickly.
“I'm not hearing that,” her mentor retorted while walking back to the kitchen and picking up a large knife. “You know, I did not come from a rich family, and my parents were wrapped up in their own stuff. But, we were never hungry. Just because you had eaten dinner didn't mean that you couldn't have supper or midnight snacks or help yourself to something in-between. I am going to make you another sandwich, and you are going to eat it without arguing because you are clearly still hungry.”
Amity opened her mouth to say something but couldn't come up with any logical comeback. So, she turned her attention to the sandwich that had appeared on the table. Meanwhile, Lilith piled the dishes in the sink and cast a small spell to animate a sponge that started scrubbing them.
After the meal was finished, the head witch led her apprentice into the kitchen and through a pocket door that connected to the library. As such, it would be possible to walk in an endless loop between the rooms in the house. Lilith folded her tall frame into the cushions of a dark green couch against one wall and gestured Amity towards the table in the center of the room.
“Clear yourself a spot at the table and work on your stuff while I read through these reports,” she instructed. “It will probably start raining soon, so there are extra candles in the cupboard left of the stove.”
Amity lit a couple of candles on the table and sorted through the books on the table. A particularly old tome caught her eye. The cover read PHILOSOPHIÆ NATURALIS PRINCIPIA MATHEMATICA. She stopped short and looked at it more closely. She opened it carefully and studied the contents of the pages inside. Countless diagrams and figures were printed inside, all in a foreign language that was just out of reach. It seemed very similar to what she was studying in her arithmancy class, but without being able to understand the text, she could not be sure. Carefully holding up the fragile volume, she asked her mentor, “Miss Clawthorne, what is this?”
Lilith pushed her glasses higher up on her nose and squinted at the cover before giving a rapid-fire summary. “Mathematical Principles of Natural Philosophy, base text for what we call Newtonian Arithmancy. Written by the last great human alchemist before their realm was cut off from the Boiling Isles. What do you want to know about it?”
“Why can't I read it?” the young witch asked. “And what did you mean by ‘cut off from the Isles’ … were they connected at some point?”
“The book is in Latin, which was the language of human scholars for centuries. It's now called a dead language because it isn't spoken anymore after everyone switched to the ‘common’ or ‘vulgular tongue.’ And yes, our realms used to be linked. Titan's Blood was far more plentiful and created pools that linked our world with the human realm. There were many witches who traveled there and brought back writings and manuscripts. Some tried to teach more scholarly humans about magic. But without the ability to magic themselves, the best those learned men could do was alchemy and search for how to turn lead into gold.” Lilith stopped and chuckled, “if such a spell did exist, my sister would have figured it out and built herself a palace of gold bricks across from the emperor's castle, just to rub it in his face. Anyway, about 300 years ago, the last of the pools of Titan's Blood dried out and our worlds were cut off from each other. Well … mostly… there's still a ton of human trash that finds its way here, so some links still exist, but nobody knows how or where.”
Amity stared in disbelief. “They didn't teach us about any of this in my history classes at Hexside. How do you know all this?” Lilith stood up from the couch with a look of pride.
“Now you see the real magic of being a historian and doing your own research! I know more about the Savage Ages than anyone else on the Isles, even the emperor himself. Why? Because I read, because I look things up, I put together reports on the things I discover. I once put together a whole compendium about Deadwardian doorknobs!” The older witch’s face flushed slightly and her voice rose. “But did anyone appreciate it? Oh, no. Flora D'splora, that clown, said it was boring and ‘had no pedagogical value’ for recruiting new scouts. When I submitted it to the Bonesborough museum for inclusion in their collection, she went out of her way to let the curator know how worthless my research was. Of course, I fired her as chief archaeologist when I finally became head witch, and that's why she is now teaching at Hexside.”
Amity's interest was piqued. “Do you still have that catalog? I hope you didn't throw it away because I would actually be interested to see what you wrote.”
Her mentor sprung from the couch and raced out of the room. A few moments later, several crashing sounds were heard from upstairs along with the scraping of drawers being yanked open. A muffled shout of success was followed by a single loud thump and a few groans. She subsequently re-emerged in the doorway holding a faded manuscript and rubbing an emerging bruise on her arm.
Amity set the compendium of doorknobs on the table in front of her and started examining it. After perusing several pages of hand-written introductory material, she flipped to the middle. There was page after page of photos of antique knobs, levers, pullchains, and keys with scribbled notes about their age, material, usage, and location on the Isles. The young witch closed the manuscript and stood up so that she could return it to its author.
“Although I can't say that doorknobs are a topic I find interesting, this is actually incredible. It's the most detailed study of any household object that I have seen in my life. How did you even manage to find that many different kinds of keys? Did you really go around Bonesborough asking people to let you take pictures of their keys?” the young witch asked.
“No, I dug them up myself from the ruins of the destroyed wild witches’ encampments outside Latissa!” exclaimed the coven head. “Did you know that if find a really old piece of silver that has almost turned into dirt, you can stick it inside a toetato? If you try scrubbing it, it will crumble to pieces. But a toetato has the perfect level of acidity to dissolve tarnish and leave the artifact behind.”
Amity looked up at her mentor and was surprised by the look on her face. Lilith’s usually downcast expression was replaced by newfound enthusiasm as she recounted the proper way to restore artifacts and determine the era to which they belonged.
“I'm glad you didn't throw away your research. Even if no one else appreciated it, I did. I think it was amazing that you took so many hours to catalog such …”
She was cut off in the middle of her sentence by an unexpected hug. Lilith had seemingly abandoned all norms of professionality and had bent over so that she could wrap her arms around her student.
“You are the first person who ever appreciated my work. You have no idea how much this means to me,” Lilith whispered hoarsely. She then took a few steps backwards and dropped onto the couch with a look of utter exhaustion. “You go back to your studies and I will close my eyes for a few minutes. Wake me up in an hour.”
Amity sat down again and unpacked her notes from the morning. The group project would not be due for another few weeks, so she chose to avoid thinking about it. She had a midterm next week in Arithmancy, so she focused on reworking the problems at the end of the current chapter. She would occasionally flip back to her notes or end up getting lost and being forced to start over. The material was hard, but she had a new appreciation for studying by herself after seeing the amount of effort that had gone into a masterpiece on doorknobs that nobody else cared about.
Boiling rain soon began to pour down, and the room grew dark. Amity retrieved a few more candles from the kitchen and cast several light spells above the table so that she could keep working. The large living room became quiet, with the distant paterring and hissing of the rain punctuated only by the scratching of her pencil and an occasional soft snore from the couch. After an hour, her mentor was still fast asleep, and Amity decided that her mentor clearly needed the rest. So, she kept studying.
After some unknown amount of time had elapsed, she decided she needed to call her parents and tell them that she was safe with Lilith. After finding a crow in the kitchen and making it clear that she would be unable to come home until the rain stopped, she sat down on a free section of the couch. It was surprisingly comfortable, and she suddenly felt her eyelids growing heavy. Within just a minute, she too had fallen asleep.
Notes:
Next up: Rainy day fluff part 2. Will hopefully get it done sooner than this chapter.
Chapter 7: The Dream
Summary:
Amity has a dream about the Day of Unity but she and her mentor write it off as indigestion.
Chapter Text
Soundtrack: “A Nostalgic Dream” by Peter Grundy: https://youtu.be/DLWqxqMYlXE
Boiling rain pounded the streets of Bonesborough, scorching the plants and flushing countless rats from the drains where they had been hiding. A strong wind began to pick up, sending a dozen shopkeepers scrambling to board up their windows. Those with enough magic to cast protective barriers over their homes had already done so, while those without the skill huddled in their basements and hoped they would have enough snails to pay for repairs by the skilled members of the Construction Coven.
A young witch in a flowing purple dress ran through the rain with a small shield of abomination fluid held over her head. Behind her, several coven scouts were in close pursuit, their shouts muffled by their beak-like masks. The girl ducked into an alleyway and started sprinting down its length. Her footsteps echoed between the tall stone walls of the buildings. As she turned the corner, the road transformed into a long balcony with faded wooden pickets. Muffled shouts and the creaking of stairs below sent the girl racing for the first open door, which proved to be a restroom. She hurriedly locked the door and turned around to face her reflection in the mirror. Familiar golden eyes stared back at her, but they were framed by faded green hair that was long and tangled.
She reached out to touch the unfamiliar face in the mirror, but as soon as her fingers met the glass, reality warped again. The rough-hewn timbers and mammoth bones of the building shifted into grey rectangular blocks of equal size. A long tubular light hummed overhead. Rain hammered down on what seemed to be a rusty metal roof. Someone pounded on the door and shouted more incomprehensible words, sending the girl running again through another door at the other end of the washroom.
As soon as she stepped through the doorway, her boot sank into soft brown mud. Cold, wet raindrops splattered her in the face sending her stumbling back in dismay. The entire color palette of the world around her had shifted. The grass was a bizarre shade of green. The tall red conifers of Bonesborough had been replaced with shorter trees with golden leaves that blew in the wind. The grounds in front of her appeared to be some sort of city park with swings and a sports court that was now submerged in ankle-deep water.
Under one of the trees was a girl with a tan complexion and curly dark brown hair, weeping inconsolably. Her face was hidden by a black hood that was now soaked by the downpour and her tears. Some distance away stood a strongly-built woman in a strange blue uniform, holding a fabric umbrella that was somehow able to deflect the rain. The woman appeared to be the girl’s mother and was speaking in a strange, rhythmical language.
To avoid being seen, the young witch quietly stood up and tiptoed around the side of the building while the woman’s back was turned to her. After slipping by unnoticed, she put her hand out to test the danger presented by the rain. Instead of being drops of boiling acid that destroyed anything on contact, they were cold and oddly invigorating. Deciding it was safe to proceed, she began to sprint along a gravel path into the woods ahead. A few scarlet-red birds fluttered upwards into the rows of golden trees that passed by as she ran down the trail.
After a few minutes, she found herself in front of a decaying house. From within, there was a flash of bright light and a thunderclap, causing the girl to dive into some bushes for cover. From the door of the shack emerged an extraordinarily tall witch with a small brown owl perched on her shoulder. She looked in either direction as if she was trying to avoid being seen. The silver-haired witch then tied a scarf over her ears, revealing the insides of her wrists and the clear absence of a coven sigil on either one. She swung a brown sack over her shoulder and disappeared into the trees beyond.
Seeking shelter from the rain, the girl carefully made her way up the stairs of the house and gently pushed the door ajar. As soon as she stepped through the door, reality warped again and she was falling through an endless space of swirling gold, green, and black. There seemed to be no end to this strange dimension or the cubes floating around her. To stop her fall, she reached out and grabbed one of the cubes. Her descent stopped just above a lake of rippling gold and black water. Hundreds of cubes were rising from its surface and floating upwards into the void above.
“Where am I really?” she asked herself as she gazed into the endless space in every direction. The surface of the cube in her hands began to ripple and transformed into an image of a library. On a green couch, there was a student in a grey uniform, lying peacefully with her head in the lap of a tall raven-haired witch. The older woman was reading a set of reports and gently stroking the head of her sleeping apprentice.
Uninterested in the domestic scene, she tossed the cube away and asked, “that girl who was crying in the park … who was she? What happened to her?” Another cube rose from the water and floated upwards. Its rippling surface began to flash black and white, then dark red before just turning into a mirror that reflected her own face and strange green hair.
As she prepared to discard the cube in frustration, something in the reflection made her freeze. Standing behind her was a taller girl with a crumpled sock hat pulled down over curly brown hair. She balanced a red club from some unknown sports game over her shoulder. With her other hand, she held aloft a skull with a dagger plunged into it. Her face could not be seen in the reflection. The only visible features were uniquely round, tan ears that were pierced with black studs.
When she whipped around to see who was behind her, she only found more endless space. The cube drifted upwards and out of sight. “When does this happen?” she asked the void. Another cube drifted into her hands revealing a masked figure running across the rooftops of Bonesborough. In her hand was a staff topped by the same owl palisman that she had seen on the shoulder of the wild witch leaving the abandoned house. The figure was confronted by a scout with short, bright green hair who flung away her mask and held a spear up to the throat of the presumed apprentice of that wild witch. The figure merely laughed and booped the scout on the nose before disappearing into thin air.
“What started it?” she questioned the abyss. Instead of a cube, the glass fountain pen gifted her by Willow's fathers rose from the water. A stream of water formed itself into letters that then wrapped around the faintest outline of a crescent new moon. The moon morphed into a rectangle that flung open to reveal itself as a portal door with a large yellow eye in its center. A twisted bony hand, dripping with green goo and unseeing blue eyeballs, reached up and crushed the door into splinters.
“What was that?” she gasped. Even by the standards of the Boiling Isles, such an undead appendage was unsettling. A cube emerged from the golden lake, revealing the sacred grounds of the head of the isles. Countless witches were lying motionless on the ground as ribbons of magic rose from them into the blackened sky and an eclipsed sun. Inside the corridors of the Titan's skull, the same monster was lashing out at a small group of Hexside students, one of whom was attempting to tie it down with vines.
She screamed and threw the cube as far away as she could. “Is that the end of the world? Will it happen in my lifetime? Am I the one who causes it?” she cried out. One last cube rose from the water, showing the luxurious interior of a salon. Numerous strands of auburn hair lay on the floor. Bottles of hair dye stood on the counter next to Odalia, who was holding up some sort of certificate and making a grand gesture. In the barber’s chair sat a young witch with short mint-green hair that she immediately recognized as herself.
Amity's sleep was interrupted by the feeling of something touching her head. “Mom, leave my hair alone. I told you it's just fine,” she mumbled. The sound of pouring rain and a crackling fireplace slowly brought her back to reality. She took a moment to gather her surroundings and was confused by the library-like setting and what appeared to be the folds of a black skirt in front of her face. A few seconds later, her memories of the afternoon came back, and she was horrified to see that her head had fallen into the lap of her mentor. She attempted to leap to her feet, but a firm hand interrupted her flailing.
“You always kept so much distance. I didn't expect you to be such a little cuddlebug,” Lilith said softly. “You were out for a while, so I decided to undo your hair. But it seems that I woke you up instead.”
“I'm sorry! I didn't mean to fall asleep. I was working on my arithmancy problems and then came over to check on you. And I don't know what happened. I promise it won't happen again,” the young witch apologized hurriedly. She had now opened her eyes enough so that she could look around and make sure that she had not accidentally drooled on anything.
“It's fine, don't make a big deal of it,” the older woman said.
“No, I fell asleep in your lap like a child. It was inappropriate. Please don't cut off our lessons. I’m sorry that …”
“Stop apologizing. I don't want to hear any explanations. Now get up and go wash your face because you are starting to look awful. There's a washroom right there across the hall” Lilith said with a tone of finality. She stood up and pointed in the direction of the front entryway, where the door to the bathroom stood ajar.
Amity rose to her feet uncertainly and then trudged to the bathroom. She locked the door and turned on the faucet, letting the water run until it turned hot. She looked in the mirror and was relieved to see her normal hair and school uniform. She knew it was normal to have dreams of falling or losing teeth as those were common fears that everyone had. Although the details of everything she had seen were now fading, this dream had been bizarre.
It was true that it was not the first time she had dreamt of a place with green grass. She certainly had previous dreams of being chased by people much stronger than her. But the other images were disturbing, not least the skeletal monster that seemingly brought the destruction of the entire Boiling Isles. The identity of the crying girl bothered her the most.
She dipped a washcloth into the steaming hot water and ran it over her face. A large smudge of eyeliner was smeared across her temple (likely due to napping in such an undignified way), so she gathered some soap in hands and started scrubbing. The gentle floral aroma of the soap and stream of hot water allowed her thoughts to settle. Most likely, the dream was the twisted result of her own slight guilt about abandoning her best friend after the ink incident, coupled with whatever reports Lilith might have been reading aloud.
She shut off the faucet and returned to the living room where Lilith was arranging a stack of reports on the table. Her white raven palisman was pecking at something nearby. “Miss Clawthorne?” she asked hesitantly.
“You don't have to be so formal when we're not in public. Having at least one person call me simply by my name would be nice. What's on your mind, little raven?”
The pet name caught Amity by surprise, causing her to freeze momentarily. “Miss Lilith, I had the strangest dream. I saw a wild witch who looked a lot like you, but she had silver hair instead of black. And she was sneaking out of some abandoned house in a town with green grass and trees with yellow leaves. Do you have any idea what it could mean?”
Lilith sat down on one of the floor cushions and buried her face in her hands. With a deep sigh, she answered “that would have been my scofflaw younger sister. My parents still blame me for all her problems, but the reality is that after we became adults, she is solely responsible for everything that has happened since. Because she refused to join a coven, she's a trash collector who scams people in the night market. I got a report today that she has been selling new forms of human contraband, which isn't news. But the scout who wrote that she has a portal door through which she is now bringing back sacks of illegal goods. That changes things, and if I pass this report along, the emperor will be on my back to capture her and confiscate the portal.”
“Do you think my dream was connected?” her apprentice asked in apprehension.
“Most likely, I was mumbling parts of the report out loud and it crept into your dreams … Without being an oracle witch, the hardest thing in life is telling apart prophecies and indigestion. Yours was indigestion,” the head witch smirked. “Speaking of that, it's time for dinner, and the rain has shown no sign of letting up. Let's go cook some soup.”
Amity followed her mentor into the kitchen but absentmindedly kept walking until she reached the windows of the hexagonal breakfast nook. Parting the curtains, she gazed up at the shimmering blue dome over the house and garden. Torrents of boiling rain were pounding on its transparent surface and then running down the edges like a waterfall. The contrast between the trickling water and the lawn of red grass and small white flowers was mesmerizing. She looked out the side window and saw that a small ankle-deep lake of water had formed on the patio between the house and the stone retaining wall.
Lilith appeared over her shoulder and said softly, “after we have dinner, I have some toy boats that we can float on the patio. We can open the door and watch them sail around in circles. But first, come help me cut up the vegetables.”
On the kitchen countertop was a cutting board and some mixed vegetables. Amity picked up one of the toetatos and then turned to her mentor awkwardly. “I don't know how to cut these up. At home, all of the cooking is done by the abomi-butlers or the hired help that my mother is always berating for doing things incorrectly.”
Lilith crossed her arms and frowned. “There's one scout at the Bonesborough precinct office who is our best technician. He has successfully avoided mopping duty for five years because of a freak accident that left the rest of the guards with mop strands instead of hair. And then there was the one time he was sent to unclog the litrine and instead covered the entire ceiling in you know what. If you are trying to be like him, I am going to throw you out the front door and let you walk home. So, do you really not know, or are you just trying to get out of helping by pretending to be incompetent?”
Despite Amity's best efforts to remain composed and take her mentor's question seriously, the image of said scout wielding a mop and a plunger with epically disastrous results made her start giggling uncontrollably. “I … I … I’m sorry… no, actually I never chopped vegetables before. I don't know how big to cut them or how long they need to be boiled. Can you please show me?” she asked once she stopped laughing.
“Well, think about it. How big are the toetato chunks in your favorite stew?”
“About like this?” the girl asked, showing a space between her thumb and forefinger.
“Correct,” her mentor nodded. “If you cut it bigger, they will be tough, but any smaller and they will turn mushy. Now be sure to hold them firmly with one hand while keeping your fingers away from the edge you're cutting. Then slice it by sliding the knife over the root. Let the motion do the work for you.”
Amity turned back to the cutting board and hesitantly cut the toetato in half so that she could grip it better. She then began chopping it into irregular shapes like the ones in her favorite bakery. The process was surprisingly entertaining. Within a few minutes, she had diced up all the vegetables and collected them into a bowl. “Ms Lilith, look, I cut them all up. Are you sure it's enough? Maybe I need to cut up some more?”
“You enjoyed that way too much. Good for you,” her mentor hummed. “Now come pour them into the pot and stir them slowly.”
After adding the vegetables, some dry noodles, and a few links of diced sausage, Amity continued stirring the pot, watching the ingredients swirl as if caught in a maelstrom. Before she knew it, the meal was ready and her mentor was spinning up a small ice spell to cool the food down to a suitable temperature. The soup was simple and delicious, made better yet by the fact that Amity had cooked most of it herself.
After washing up, the duo went into the sunroom where Lilith opened the large sliding door to the patio. Stashed underneath a chair was a small wooden box in which were several brightly colored toy boats. Amity picked a bright blue one while Lilith chose red. They set the two boats in the deep puddle outside the door and watched them start bobbing up and down with the ripples. The head witch then twirled her finger and set the two boats in motion. They wandered to the stone wall, then around the perimeter of the patio, nearly ran aground at the far edge, and then floated back to the door.
“Want to sail a different one?” Lilith asked while digging in the wooden box.
“I thought that this was something we were doing because you thought I was a child. But this is what you do when you're alone at home during the rain, isn't it? I guess I jumped to conclusions too quickly. Yes, I actually would like to try again,” Amity said thoughtfully.
“You’re right. I guess people never really grow up. I already told you that my father was a master palisman carver, but he also used to make toys for us. Little wooden wagons and ships and things like that. Days like this take me back to when I was little and couldn't play outside. So now, I sit here and make these little boats sail around my patio.”
“Can you please teach me the spell you used?” the younger witch asked while retrieving a purple boat from the box.
“It's a simple wind spell, but actually takes immense skill and control to cast it like this. A normal wind spell only blows in one direction and with so much force it would flip your boat. So, you have to use a tiny spell circle and then think about the changes in wind direction as it goes around the patio.”
Amity set her boat in the water and cast a small spell, creating a strong breeze that sent her boat racing across the patio and then onto the dry ground on the other side. Lilith inadvertently snorted at her student’s moan of frustration.
“Now, you'll need to use a slightly stronger breeze to get it unstuck and back in the water. But then you'll need to break the spell a split-second later or else you'll sink it,” the older witch explained.
After a few attempts, the purple boat was back in the water and sailing slowly towards the stone retaining wall.
“Now create wind half as strong as the first time to make it change course,” she instructed.
The boat veered abruptly and ran straight into the side of the house.
“You never said it was going to be this hard,” Amity cried out, although she was both frustrated and laughing at the same time.
“Casting small precise spells is much harder than big flashy ones,” her mentor explained.
“I guess you're right … Head Witch Darius said the same thing when he interviewed me. Now, I am going to make this little boat go around in a perfect circle or I will bust.”
After a few minutes of making irregular triangular trips across the puddle, Amity looked up to find her mentor smiling.
“You're getting the idea. In your arithmancy class, do you remember how a curve is actually a straight line that keeps changing direction. So you need a breeze that is always slightly to one angle and keeps shifting as your boat goes around the patio. Now the trick is to think about exactly what you want in your heart … and now do it!”
Amity closed her eyes and spun the smallest spell circle she could and tried to imagine a gentle breeze slowly changing direction, always following the boat, always pushing it back towards the center of the patio. She continued picturing it in her head while maintaining the spell. When she opened her eyes and was amazed to see her boat moving slowly and steadily in a lopsided circle, but it was still a circle.
“I did it, I actually did it!” she exclaimed, throwing her arms around her mentor. “Wait, I am sorry, that was unprofessional.”
“No, you did well. Come, now sit back and enjoy what's left of the evening, and we will let the boats wander with the current.”
The two witches then leaned back, listening to the pattering of the subsiding rain on the dome and occasional ‘plop’ of a drop of water that leaked through and landed in the deep puddle on the back patio.
Chapter 8: Tell Me How
Summary:
Willow begins to spiral as Amity's sudden disappearance sets of a cascade of events that leave her isolated and grasping for answers.
TW: mentions of bullying
Notes:
Unlike the beloved AO3 author's excuse like "I got hit by a bus," I just got buried in lab reports and suffered creative burnout for a month. Back with a longer chapter to make up for it.
Chapter Text
Soundtrack: “Tell Me How” by Paramore: https://youtu.be/EPrVfrO3y78
Willow quietly trudged up the front stairs of Hexside, hoping to keep a low profile. Over the past several weeks, things had taken a turn for the worse. It almost seemed that the lack of response to her message to a non-existent soulmate was a warning flare of what was yet to come. Over the course of three months, she had suddenly found herself isolated for no apparent reason. She could not help overhear the snide remarks her classmates had begun whispering when she passed by. Every day, Boscha and the other members of Amity's former posse would try calling her a new derisive nickname, but fortunately, none of them had stuck yet. A few of her teachers gave her sympathetic looks but none stepped forward to intervene. Harvey had suddenly been saddled by endless hours of mandatory overtime, coming home late in the evening after she and her dad had already had dinner. With the last threads of normalcy slipping through her fingers, her grades began to plummet as well.
With her head lost in an ever-larger tangle of thoughts, her feet managed to find their own way up to the first class of the day. Mindlessly, she sat in the third row of the classroom and unpacked her bag. The minutes seemed to drag on as she waited for her history teacher to appear and the first bell to scream. She flipped through the history textbook, looking for something to read instead of the assigned chapter. Nothing caught her eye except a section at the very end of the book.
As usual, the textbook for this course was far longer than what they could possibly cover in the academic quarter. As a result, nobody would ever bother to read the last several chapters. However, the title of this single page caused the rest of the world to fade out: “History of Invasive Plants in the Boiling Isles.” The concept made no sense. How could a plant be invasive? What were they invading? Carnivorous and otherwise aggressive plants were quite common, but by definition, they were always rooted in a single place.
As she read the short section, each sentence brought more questions than answers. It stated that most of the noxious plants that lacked magic originated from the human realm a few hundred years ago. They had been brought back by wild witches during the Deadwardian Era and propagated in secret as houseplants with healing or hallucinogenic properties. When the covens came to power fifty years ago, the descendants of those witches tossed the illegal plants into the underbrush of Forearm Forest. Since then, many of those weeds had taken root, spreading rapidly and displacing native plants of the Isles. For the most part, these plants had unnaturally green leaves and yellow or white flowers. There was a single drawing of a plant labeled “hensbane?” with a note that its seeds were toxic enough to be lethal in large quantities. It noted that this plant along with several other of the most dangerous specimens had been collected by Head Witch Terra Snapdragon for safekeeping and further research.
The questions buzzing in her head drowned out the teacher's monotone voice or any of the classroom discussion afterwards. She read the section over and over again. She checked the index in the back of the book but there were no other mentions of invasive plants, or for that matter, plants of any type.
How did plants with green leaves even survive? Who allowed those plants to go on such a rampage? What happened to the specimens collected by the plant coven? Was that the reason her fathers never went hiking in Forearm Forest? Was her Papa's friend, that Owl Lady, one of the outlaws responsible for unleashing floral chaos? How did those plants arrive in the first place? Did this mean that the Boiling Isles and Human Realm were actually connected at some point?
These questions continued to overwhelm her until lunchtime, when she made her escape to the Bonesborough library. If there were any place she could find answers, this would be the one. She consulted with the head librarian who suggested that she check the botany section and then the unsorted human literature on the second floor. As she thanked him, she tried to forget his stern remark that she shouldn't be messing with plant magic as a student of the abomination track.
She thumbed through several volumes claiming to be catalogs of flora and fauna of the Isles, but none contained plants with green leaves. The archived news reports on the crystal ball provided a few leads from the less credible news magazines. One claimed that the invading plants were actually cursed by wild witches who wanted to bring about the end of the world. Another recounted the tale of some hapless Glandus students who ate the brown beans of one plant and died immediately. No amount of effort by the healers was able to save them. The more she read, the more terrifying those plants (and the human realm) seemed. She put away the crystal ball and checked the time. She could afford ten more minutes before she had to return to Hexside.
She climbed the long staircase to the second floor and wandered the rows of shelves until she came to a dimly lit section of books. She began to scan the shelf and noticed that the books were strangely glossier. Some had torn paper wrappers printed with huge letters and bright colors that contrasted garishly against their black bindings. Many had titles that made sense and could be categorized as romance, mystery, horror, and so on. She noticed several of the children's books that her fathers had bought from the Owl Lady. She then noticed what looked like the missing fourth volume of Cosmic Frontier on the opposite side that her fathers had been looking for. If she brought it home, they would be overjoyed.
She made a dash towards the book, not noticing a slight distortion in the coloring of the carpet nearby. Her foot caught on something unseen, causing her to trip and face-plant spectacularly. She groaned and patted the floor to feel where her glasses had landed.
“Are you ok? I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to trip you up like that!” a voice called out from what she had previously thought to be a pile of paperbacks. Raising herself off the floor, she turned to see a young witch wearing the uniform of the illusion track at Hexside. He had curly dark brown hair and a look of immense concern on his face (or as much of his face as Willow could discern without her glasses).
“I'm fine, but I really need some help finding my glasses. Last time this happened to me, I stepped on them,” she answered. She tried to follow it up with a lighthearted chuckle to make things less awkward.
The young illusionist extricated himself from the mess of tangled legs and scattered books to retrieve Willow's glasses. “Here you go. What's your name? I'm Augustus Porter, master illusionist in training,” he introduced himself with a dramatic bow.
“Willow Park. Thanks for finding my glasses. My dad would be really disappointed if he had to buy me a third pair of glasses this month,” she responded.
“Oh, don't blame yourself. The reason you tripped over my legs was that they were invisible. I disguised myself as a pile of books when you came this way. I really don't like being bothered when I'm reading ... Or want to risk being caught eating in the library,” he added with a shy smirk.
After a few more rounds of mutual apologies, Willow addressed the question on her mind. “I'm going to be late for class, but do you hang out here a lot? I'm trying to find some books about human plants and if they're really invading the Isles. I just saw some articles downstairs about them spreading across Forearm Forest and killing people.
Gus rolled his eyes and said cynically, “please don't tell me that you were reading that stuff by the Bonesborough Bugle. It's not a newspaper but a bunch of liars running around looking for fake stories to create hysteria. My dad's a reporter and you would not believe the stories from when he ran into those guys. They're totally off their rocker!”
“Off their rocker?” she asked curiously. “What does that mean?”
“Oh, human phrase! Mad as a hatter. Totally bonkers. A few screws loose. Lost their marbles. You wouldn't believe how many phrases humans have to say that someone is crazy. I just love it so much!”
“So … Do you know if there are any books on human plants here? I only saw some of the silly books that my dad and papa like to read to me. I mean seriously, why would you need a fairy godmother to make crystal shoes that last only until midnight? Why not just borrow a concealment stone? And don't even get me started on Sleeping Beauty,” Willow began to rant.
“Wow! You read all of those?” the illusionist exclaimed. “You know, with as much as you know about human stories, you should join me in forming the Human Appreciation Society! I need one member from the abomination track for us to get recognized as a real club at Hexside. There was this other emperor's track girl that I tried to ask. I saw her again today but she said she was too busy with her studies and couldn't waste time on school clubs. But we don't need anyone stuck up like her when I can have a fun abominations student like you to form the club!”
“I'm not sure the words ‘fun’ and ‘abomination’ go together. There's nothing fun about that track,” Willow mused. “But why were you trying to get an EC track student to fill the missing spot in your club? Those guys are the definition of stuck up. And didn't you need an abomination track member?”
“Ah yes, that girl used to be in the abomination track, so I thought that might count. Amity something-or-another. But whatever,” he waved dismissively.
“Wait, you mean you saw her? When? Where? Was she alright?” Willow interrupted.
Augustus looked surprised. “Yes, I saw her this morning just before lunch. She was a bit in a rush to pick up some raw abomination sludge blah blah blah. The first time I saw her, she came here looking for a human book on how to beat people up. I totally thought came here to bust me for reading banned books but she actually turned out to be ok. She said that book was recommended to her by Head Witch Darius Deamonne. Would you believe it? One of the coven heads reads human books like me? I couldn't believe it either because why would someone as important as …”
Willow tuned out the excited rambling of her new friend as the events of the past couple months came flooding back. Immediately after that unfortunate night with the magical ink, Amity had simply vanished from her life without a word of explanation.
The morning after they had dinner together, her friend failed to show up for school. Willow wondered if she had been grounded for coming home late. Harvey would certainly ground her for a day or two if she failed to appear on time and then just say that she went to a friend's house instead. However, there was no sign of Amity in any of their classes the next day or the day after.
On Fireday, there was a quiz on abomination summoning and still no trace of her best friend. This was worrisome. In the past year they had known each other, Amity had never missed an exam, even the one time she had the fire flu. She had sat there sneezing every five minutes until she had scorched the edges of her answer sheet.
When Amity failed to appear the following Moanday, she approached her teacher to ask if they knew what had happened to her friend. She was only given an unsatisfactory answer that Amity had been granted some time off to prepare for an exam. That made no sense as everyone took the coven placement exams at the same time, and Hexside never gave anyone extra time to prepare.
After two weeks, everyone had begun to act like her best friend never existed. Willow began to wonder if someone had cast some sort of amnesia spell that had erased Amity from the memories of everyone except her. The teachers in class carried on as usual. Even Boscha continued chatting and laughing performatively at every joke made by her posse of so-called friends as if nothing had happened. In search of answers, she finally plucked up her courage to find the truth for herself and made her way to Blight Manor to see if Amity was alright.
As she pushed upon the large gates to the manor garden, the hinges creaked shrilly like the screams of some disembodied ghost. The sound was worse than that of demon's claws on a chalkboard. Apart from the patch of well-mown red grass, the yard was desolate and barren, lacking any of the flowers of her fathers’ yard. As she walked up the long path to the mansion, she noted that it didn't even contain a single wooden gnome statue. As gnomes were highly territorial and destructive creatures, most inhabitants of Bonesborough placed statues to deter actual gnomes from taking up residence in their gardens. Willow briefly shuddered as she felt the Blights might have chosen some more lethal mechanism for repelling the household pests.
Before she could knock on the front door, it had already been opened by the Blight matriarch who stood in the doorway with her hands on her hips. It seemed that the hideous noise made by the gate had actually been some sort of ward that she had tripped. “Who do you think you are that gives you authority to enter these grounds without written permission? What business do you have that brings you here unannounced?”
Willow folded her hands and responded politely, “hello Mrs Blight. I'm a friend of your youngest daughter. I haven't seen her in class for two weeks, so I decided to come see if she was alright.”
The green-haired witch scowled at the young girl on her doorstep and demanded, “what is your name? I don't remember giving you permission to join my daughter's group of friends?”
“Willow Park. Amity's been my best friend for about a year now. But I haven't seen her since the last time she came over to my house after school. I've been really worried about her.”
Odalia’s scowl shifted to a sugary smile as she bent over to look Willow in the eyes. She gripped the pink gemstone on her necklace with one hand and proclaimed, “of course, how thoughtless of me to have forgotten Mitten’s best friend! I'm so glad you came by to check on her. You know, I was so worried about Mittens when she didn't come home that evening and went for dinner at your house instead. But she never told me what happened. I assume that there was something very urgent so that she didn't even bother to call home. Please come inside and have a cup of tea. I would love to hear all about it.”
After Willow drank a few cups of exquisite sweet tea and recounted the full story of their misadventures with the magical ink, Odalia stood up and gave her a hug. “My poor thing, you and Mittens thought that you both had been rejected by the Titan! Anyone with common sense could have told you that you had just been scammed by the Owl Lady, that conniving wild witch. I can't believe she hasn't been locked up in the Conformatorium! You’ll be glad to know that my daughter is doing fine and making up for her mistakes by starting an apprenticeship with Head Witch Lilith Clawthorne. You can't imagine how long into the nights she is training to make her family proud. So, she doesn't have time anymore to hang out with you. But I'll be sure to tell her that you came by.”
“Thank you, Mrs Blight. I'm just happy to hear that Amity is okay,” Willow said.
“Nonsense! The pleasure is all mine,” Odalia responded with a grand gesture. “I'll even ask some of Amity's other friends to keep you company so that you're not bored at school. Now, I do have some important business matters to attend to, so I hope you won't mind letting my abomi-butler show you out.
Willow's high spirits were shattered the moment she stepped onto the grounds of Hexside the next morning. While she was coaxing her locker to open its mouth and return her books, a bucket of leaves was dumped on her head. A group of girls led by a pink-haired triclops were standing nearby and laughing hysterically.
“Skara, you were completely wrong. Adding leaves did nothing to make her look like a tree! You see, willows are supposed to be thin and wispy but she is the exact opposite!” the group’s leader cackled.
From that point on, every day became progressively worse. Boscha came up with a new taunt every day and seemed to become increasingly annoyed that Willow did not respond to any of them. Her motto of “out of sight, out of mind” was being pushed to its limits. She began to think that perhaps it was true that she had been rejected by the Titan. It seemed that in just the span of a month, her world had collapsed. She had lost her best friend, her reputation at school, and now her academic standing as her grades began to drop. She had done seemingly nothing wrong to anger the fates, but she was suffering while Boscha and her gang were guffawing in celebration over each successful grudgby match that they won in lopsided victories.
Her anger boiled over as she imagined dozens of vines crawling over the walls and catching each of Boscha’s gang. The vines were like so many thorny serpents that advanced unstoppingly up the front steps and then snaked up the tall pillars of Hexside. Even if she had no strength to face those bullies, these plants felt no fear. They were deaf to any spoken words. No insults would be able to stop their advance into each classroom until those vipers met actual floral snakes that would eliminate them.
Her trance was broken by a hand waving in front of her face and a distant voice that called out, “Boiling Isles to Willow? Do you copy?” A moment later, she snapped back to reality and noticed her new friend trying to get her attention.
“Whew, glad you're back! You really spaced out on me and then you began to do some kind of weird glowing eye thing. And then the seeds sprinkled on my sandwich started responding to whatever you were doing. Any idea what just happened?” Augustus asked. After waiting a few seconds for an answer, he just shrugged and sighed, “oh well, I guess I now have a sprouts sandwich. I read in this human magazine that they're healthier anyway.”
“I'm sorry, but I have to go now. There's someone I need to find right now. I'll talk to you later,” Willow said before bolting down the stairs and towards the grounds of Hexside. She would most certainly be late for class, but that was the least of her concerns.
She raced through the hallways of the school towards the Abominations Track laboratory hall where the raw ingredients were kept for creating the purple golems. There was a large wheelbarrow parked outside the laboratory doors, which was unusual. Most students left all their equipment inside the dozens of drawers inside the laboratory desks. The only time someone would bring in a cart of any kind was if they were bringing in a large delivery or cleaning out their drawer after graduation.
Willow quietly opened the door into the laboratory and looked around. The lab space was only used on Toesday and Thumbsday, so it was empty. She hurried to check her drawer and its contents. All of the drawers at the table glared at her with their individual eyes blinking with hungry annoyance. The one exception was the drawer immediately next to hers, which previously belonged to Amity. It seemed to be overfed and half asleep, quietly snoozing without paying any attention to the young witch standing in front of it. She carefully pulled it open and discovered that it was empty. Her heart jumped into her throat as she realized that the wheelbarrow outside meant that her best friend had come to retrieve her lab ingredients and was somewhere nearby.
She then heard a quiet thunk and some choice words uttered from underneath the laboratory sink. She peered around the desk to see a pair of legs clad in silver stockings and a pair of dainty black boots sticking out from the cabinet underneath. Someone had crawled inside the storage cupboard where the fire-breathing burn-sen-burn demons were kept. On their own, they were innocuous, but when fitted with a cylinder of peppercorn gas, the tubular demons could produce a continuous column of flame hot enough to melt silver.
Willow approached the sink and asked quietly, “Amity? Is that you? You finally came back?” The girl inside the cupboard jerked back, hitting her head on the countertop. With a loud “ow” she emerged a moment later holding one of the burn-sen-burn demons.
“Willow! Hi, yes, it's me. I'm here. But, no. I'm not back. I just came to pick up my lab gear and raw abomination ingredients to move into the other space across campus. And this burn-sen-burn. I stashed it all the way in the very back of the cabinet so that no one else would touch it. It blows hotter than all the rest, so I hid it. So, yeah, hi.”
“I missed you so much! Are you okay? And what's the deal with the new uniform? You're not studying abomination magic anymore? Where have you been?”
“Oh, ummm, uhhh …” She set the demon on the counter and then rubbed the back of her head. “Well, I had to prepare for the placement exam into the Emperor's Coven track, and then started classes over on the other side of campus. And, yeah, I’ve been really busy. But, I'm sorry, I have to run now. I’m supposed to meet my mentor and take this stuff over to the other lab and finish this dumb abomination bridge project. Like, seriously, abominations are the last material you’d ever try to use to make a bridge. It was really great seeing you!”
Willow looked stunned. “That's it? You saw me for one minute and now you have to go? Do you know how worried I was about you when you didn't come to school for two weeks? You disappeared without a word! I even went to your house to see if you were alright.”
Amity's eyes grew wide. “What? When? Why would you come to my house? Please don't tell me you said anything to my mother about what happened.”
“What's wrong with that? Your mom was very nice. She gave me this sweet tea in such fancy cups, and we talked for a long time. My dad doesn't have any dishes that are that pretty.”
“No, no, no! You shouldn't have come by. I'm not supposed to see you anymore!”
Willow’s expression reached a new stage of bewilderment. “Huh? Your mom said you were just busy. Why can't you see me anymore?”
“Well, let's say that my mother blames you for the little ink incident and everything that I have done wrong recently. So, I can't hang out with you any more. And now, I really got to go!” Amity grabbed her burn-sen-burn and made a dash for the exit and her wheelbarrow in the corridor.
Unfortunately, Willow closed the distance between them instantly and blocked the path forward. “I'm not letting you run away again without a word! I was your best friend! How could you abandon me like that?” she asked.
Amity let go of the wheelbarrow handles and sighed. “It was for your sake. I was hoping that my parents would forget about you. I thought that if I just disappeared, you'd be alright. You have your fathers. They love you very much. You don't need me.”
The emotional rollercoaster on which Willow found herself took another dive. “For my sake?” she blurted out. “Ever since you disappeared, my life has been going to pieces. I was left all alone. Everyone thinks I'm weird for having been worried about you. And that group of grudgby girls won't stop picking on me! It's becoming worse and worse every day!”
“Ok, I'm sorry. I'm sorry I disappeared. But you really need to go, right now. Someone might see us hanging out together and tell my parents. That will make things worse for both of us. I'm sorry. Please. Just leave.”
“Tell me how! Am I a stranger to you now?” Willow asked in dismay.
“I can't call you a stranger.
But I can't call you.
I know you think that I erased you.
You may hate me but I can't hate you.
And I won't replace you.”
Tears began to well in Willow's green eyes. “You don't have to tell me if you ever think of me.
I know you say you are busy.
You don't have to tell me.
I can still believe.”
At that moment, a loud cackle was heard from around the corner, followed by a few trills of sycophantic laughter. Amity pushed Willow away and whispered hoarsely, “why are you still here? Bosha’s coming, and she can't see us talking. If she does, she will tell on us and say that I'm hanging out with you again. I don't want anything bad to happen to your fathers, so just leave me alone!
Don't talk to me. Don't wave hi. From now on, we don't know each other, understand?”
“What are you talking about? You've been my best friend for a year! How could you say such a thing?” the younger witch nearly cried while pulling on her black braids.
At that moment, a grudgby ball flew in their direction and hit Willow squarely in the face, causing her to stagger back. “What are you doing talking to such losers, Mittens? Don't tell me she was pestering you to help her with her homework again?” Bosha laughed. “She's been practically begging people to tell her where you are after she failed her midterm exams!”
“Shut up, Boscha, nobody asked for your sidebar narrative. Now pick up your ball and keep moving,” Amity said flatly before turning to face Willow. “When I said something bad will happen if we are seen together, I meant it. If you keep hanging around me, something worse might happen to your parents. You have no idea what sort of trouble you all caused that night.”
“What do my dad and papa have to do with any of this? They invited you over and fed you dinner and were so nice to you. What sort of trouble did we cause? You're just being mean now!”
“Remember what your father said about not letting my parents see the ink writing on my arm? Well that's exactly what happened. My mother saw. I'm lucky that she let me off as easily as she did. But in her eyes, you and your fathers are wild witches. And don't even get me started on the fact that you didn't get a response and then told her about it. That makes you an outcast among both the covens and the simple folk.”
“Do you think that I'm not worthy to hang out with you because I don't have a soulmate assigned by the Titan? Because you got rejected just the same way I did. You and I are in the same place, no soulmates, no friends, only each other. You pinky-promised me that we'd be best friends forever and take care of each other! What happened to your promise?”
“No, that has nothing to do with it! Your father works for my father and could be fired for using wild magic. Don't you see why I was enrolled into the Emperor's Coven program? Wild magic. That's what happened that night. Don't you get it? Please don't be dumb on purpose! For once in your life, learn to take a hint and get out of here right now,” Amity pleaded.
The pink-haired triclops began to rub her palms. “I can't believe you left me out of such juicy gossip, mittens! You're telling me you got rejected by your love interest? And so you were going to hang out with Willow Tree instead? You know your parents would never let you marry some commoner. What you need is someone strong enough to crush anyone who bothers you. Let me show how it's done, princess. Do you want this nuisance to be my water gopher or practice target?”
A strange look came into Amity's eyes as they shifted from a soft golden to a cruel, piercing yellow. She rubbed a palm across her forehead and then snapped, “You stay out of this, Boscha! This is not your argument! And Willow, since you are too dumb to understand the hints I've been giving you for five minutes, I'll put it in terms that maybe will get through your thick skull. Blights only associate with the strongest of witches. I am currently studying under the head witch of the Emperor's Coven. I cannot be seen hanging out with people like you who can barely do magic. If you've been going around and asking why the Titan didn't choose you and left you as only half of a pair, it's because you never use your head and expect someone to spoonfeed you all the answers in life. That's not how it works. Success is paid for with blood and sweat and tears! If you are too lazy to do anything and spend all day playing with your dad’s houseplants, you'll never amount to anything besides Half-a-Witch Willow! Now suck it up and go make something of your education without me. Because you will never see me again, understand?”
“Oooh, Half-a-Witch Willow? How come we couldn't come up with something like that? You're so cool, Mittens, just being able to come up with a wicked insult like that on the fly. If you're ever looking for a real partner that admires your intellect, you don't have to look any farth-” Bosha was cut short by a small pot of abomination fluid that had been flung at full force at her head, shattering and spilling its contents over her pink hair.
“That was a warning. If you say either of you say another word, I will summon an abomination in your stomach and pop you like a balloon, got it?” Amity hissed. “Now thanks to the two of you, one of my deepest secrets was exposed. You're welcome. You can be proud of yourselves or whatever … So, do any of you have something else to say?” she asked in a trembling voice while picking up another jar of abomination fluid.
After several long moments of silence, sharp footsteps and another voice broke the impasse between the three girls. It was soft and low but brimmed with authority. “Amity, what is going on here? You said that you would pick up the raw ingredients you needed and then meet me by the fountain. You would really abandon your mentor to go pick hallway fights? I thought you were better than that.”
Willow had only seen the head witch of the Emperor's Coven once during a covention. At that time, Lilith Clawthorne was far away on the auditorium stage and seemed like an all-powerful sorceress. Up close, she was at least a cubit taller than any of the girls and towered over them with a demeanor that was downright terrifying. Willow froze in place as if turned to stone by the gaze of the coven head. Boscha and her gang turned tail and fled down the hallway without another word. Amity continued to clutch the pot of abomination fluid and breath heavily.
The head witch calmly took the jar out of the hands of her apprentice and placed it back in the wheelbarrow of other items. Laying a hand on Amity's shoulder, she cleared her throat and said, “well, are you going to tell me what happened?”
“Nothing, just one of the friends that my mother picked for me. She's somewhat of a bully and I had to put her back in her place.”
“And who's the other girl with the braids?”
“Nobody. A former classmate of mine. Boscha hit her with a grudgby ball so I had to intervene.”
“Well done, my little raven,” Lilith smiled. “It seems you took my lesson on handling bullies to heart. But we need to work on your fighting stance. You left yourself wide open for an easy hit. Come on now. It's already getting late and you need to finish that project tonight.”
A few moments later, the creaking of the wheelbarrow and footsteps of the master-apprentice duo faded away, leaving Willow standing alone, but now truly alone.
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