Chapter Text
The charred steam from the midafternoon train marbled the fogged background of the windowframe composition. Peaking out from behind the Waste’s cloudy curtains, a bizarre amalgamation of machinery and masonry made its cameo. Its nomadic owner declared it nothing less than a castle, but the illusive wizard Howl was no less of a noble than he was an urban legend told to scare young women from staying out late.
“Don’t worry, he only preys on pretty girls.” The giggles and commotion from the neighboring workroom only made Sophie crave the comfortable quiet of their absence. This was her life. Day to day moved like choreography, the same routine engrained in her muscle memory. The floorboards under her workbench showed gentle curves that perfectly fitted where her feet rested. Slight dents in the table formed exactly where she rested her arms. The calluses on her fingers made thimbles almost redundant. The simple symphony of her little life. The biggest question on Sophie’s mind was what creaked the loudest, her chair on a cold morning or her back after a long day.
It was clear that others were concerned, but Sophie would much rather be hunched over in her office working late into the night than join in with the social novelties like everyone else her age.
Percussive clunks shook the building as steam trailed in from the opposite direction. A particularly loud thud jolted Sophie’s usually steady hands, the slight slip of the sewing needle causing the vermillion felted wool to be stained with splotches of scarlet. Feeling betrayed by her own hands, Sophie couldn’t help but sigh at their sight. They were never pretty, hands aren’t meant to be pretty, they are evolutionary tools for crying out loud, but there was a profound sense of guilt Sophie felt as she gazed at the crimson current seeping through the wrinkles and cracks. She held her limb up to the pile of blank hats beside her, finding a colour match and contemplating starting another piece based on the bittersweet colourscheme in the palette of her left hand. Was she really that void of enrichment that the most exciting thing that happened to her all week was accidentally pricking her finger? She trudged out of the workshop to her living quarters, watching how the water blurred the wrinkles on her hands as she washed away the recent point of inspiration.
Wafts of cheery music and machinery hums textured the fresh air leaking through the washroom window. May Day. Of course it was May Day. Aircraft buzzed in the peripheral, trailed by the nation's flag and onlooker’s awes of wonder as the air felt electrified with the distant sounds of the crowd in the town centre.
‘It would be foolish to go anywhere near there today,’ Sophie thought to herself before rummaging through the pantry and realising that she was in fact a fool. She had forgotten that the warmer weather meant more people wanted hats, which meant that she had spent the past few weeks working late and had very little time left in the evening to stock up on the edible essentials. Even being as stubborn and resourceful as Sophie was, one egg, two cloves of garlic, half a carrot, and the stale ends of a breadloaf didn’t look like a very appealing meal after the day she’s had. She begrudgingly picked up her hat and took a moment in front of the large shop mirror to gather the courage to fight through the antsnest of strangers.
To others, Sophie seemed so exceptionally un-exceptional. Despite filling a store with eccentric headwear, creating intricate pieces to suit such a wide range of clientele, Sophie chose to stay simple. So simple, in fact, that you couldn’t find a hat like hers in the shop without removing an adornment or three. The last thing Sophie needed was something to draw people’s attention towards her, so she wore a tight weave raffia basin hat with a wide, dusty carmine-red ribbon pinched to the side with a small white daisy. It was simple, but it was hers. Armed along with her patina green dress, long mousy braid, and reliable shoes, she looked fabulously subpar.
If she was careful enough, Sophie might be able to sneak through the side paths and find solace in the storeroom of her sister's bakery before braving back home. She’d done this several times before, the only difference being a couple hundred people filling the usual route. It’ll be fine. She angled her hat lower over her eyes, in hopes that the reduced field of vision will shield her from the battle ahead. Deep breath. Off she goes.
~
“Hey, looks like a little mouse’s lost its way.” She took this detour specifically to avoid this happening. Sophie’s throat felt dry as the guard leered over her. ”This little mouse looks thirsty, we should take her for a cup of tea.” As she took a step to the side, a second guard blocked her path.
”No thanks, my sister is expecting me.” Sophie silently pleaded for fate to grant her just a little bit of luck. The two hulking figures surrounding her meant that there was little room to escape and even if she caught them by surprise, the guards in the connecting paths would hear the commotion and join in on the mouse trap.
”She’s pretty cute for a mouse.” The second guard leaned down to peer under Sophie’s hat, angling his approach to force her gaze on him. Surely not all men could be this predatory. Sophie felt like a mouse alright, a mouse cornered by two stray cats foaming at the mouth for their next meal.
“How old are you anyway? You live around here?” The first guard eagerly bared his teeth, shifting forwards to size Sophie up.
”Leave me alone!” She’s done with this situation. All she wanted to do is get home and if that meant turning around and jumping into the crowded street behind her, then that is what she would do. She couldn’t fight, but the particularly sharp pin securing the ribbon around her hat could give her enough of a chance to escape if poked in the right place.
”Y’see, your moustache scares off all the girls.”
”So, I think she’s even cuter when she’s scared.” The second guard adjusted the strap over his shoulder, lifting the rifle behind his back into Sophie’s line of sight. Her vision felt foggy as the adrenaline pumping through her body picked up speed. The second they looked away from her, she was gone. She just needed to wait for a distraction.
”There you are sweetheart, sorry I’m late.” A breeze behind her gently hushed the nervous hum emanating from Sophie’s body, as a warm hand affirmingly squeezed her shoulder. “I was looking everywhere for you.” The buttery voice behind Sophie numbed the hisses coming from the two in front of her.
“We’re busy here,” spat the guard, dropping his nonchalant demeanour to rear up and fight for his meal.
”Are you really? It looked to me like the two of you were just leaving.” The door to the side of the guards creaked open and without warning, an invisible force pushed the men inside and slammed the door shut. ”Dont hold it against them, there’re actually not all that bad.” The figure stepped from behind Sophie and offered out his elbow, “where to? I’ll be your escort this evening.” Feeling a little lightheaded, Sophie grasped the stranger's arm and managed to mutter a location out from her dry mouth.
As the two turned down the next corner, Sophie heard the two guards clamber back out from behind the door, their noises of confusion quieting as she was guided further through the maze of cobblestone paths. A bang behind them made Sophie flinch, pushing herself closer to the man and slipping under the lip of the overcoat draped gracefully over his shoulders.
“Don’t be alarmed but I’m being followed. Act normal.” Sophie struggled to read the man’s tone, choosing to ignore the hairs standing on the back of her neck. ”Sorry, looks like you are involved. Hold on.” It took a second for Sophie to register that things were moving around them and by the time it took for her brain to respond to the strangeness, the man had urged her through the door he just opened. Now she was on a balcony. The bakery balcony. She turned around and watched as the man closed the door behind them, getting one last glance at the path to confirm what just happened. They had walked through a door at street level into the third level balcony of the bakery on the other side of the parade route. How? Sophie took a moment to regain her breath. It was magic. This stranger used magic to teleport them from one door to another.
The man slipped his arm out from in between Sophie’s, catching her hand as he glided around her onto the balustrade. “I’ll make sure to hold it off but wait a bit before you head outside.” Sophie nodded as his hand parted from hers. He turned as his coat lifted to make way for invisible wings, a whoosh of wind following him as he flew from the balcony, giving Sophie one last glance before disappearing into the neighbouring rooftops. “That’s my girl.”
~
“So he must have been a wizard then.” Lettie was perched beside Sophie, her strawberry coloured dress dusted with flour. The storeroom was filled with the aromas of bakes goods and fresh fruit, filtering through from the kitchen. It was the quietest room in the whole building. Bags of flower and wooden crates dampened the hustle and bustle of the crowds outside. “You are so lucky Sophie, if that wizard were Howl he would have kidnapped you.”
“He was so kind to me, he rescued me, Lettie. And besides, Howl only goes after beautiful girls.” Sophie couldn’t help it. Her sister frowned dramatically, telling her off for thinking that way. Even in the dim lighting of the storeroom, coated in a thin layer of flour, and her face scrunched in disapproval, Lottie was still the prettiest between the two. That was how it had always been. No one ever admired Sophie like they did Lettie, well, until Sophie’s strange excursion. The wizards eyes seemed to pierce through her soul, leaving her standing alone on the balcony contemplating whether or not she was dreaming.
The sisters stood by the back gate, Sophie holding a basket of assorted foods Lettie managed to scrounge up on their way out. In lieu of a farewell, Lettie placed her hands on top of the other’s, “Are you really going to spend the rest of your life in that hat shop?”
“The shop was just so important to Father, I don’t mind-“
”I’m not asking what Father would have wanted. It’s your life Sophie, do something for yourself for once.”
Sophie softly smiled and exhaled out her nose, stepping away from Lettie’s grasp to wave goodbye.
~
The streets were quiet by the time Sophie made it back to the hatshop. Inside felt unusually dark, light from the outside lamp post seemed to stop just far enough in for Sophie to ensure that the door was locked. Luckily, she didn’t need light to find her way through to the living quarters. Well, if she could move her feet. Sophie grabbed the wall to stop herself from toppling over as she tugged her legs. A matchstrike snapped Sophie’s attention to the figure in the middle of the room. The flame illuminating the striking features of the woman lighting a cigarette, the silver smoke rippling through the shadow-filled air.
“What a tacky little hat shop.” The woman’s head tilted, her sharp grin glowed before her lips closed to take a long drag. She punctuated the silence after her exhale by licking her teeth, sending a cold sensation down her spine.
“I’m sorry but the shop is closed, Ma’am.” Sophie gulped. Today alone, Sophie had experienced more magic than she had her whole life, and honestly, she’d had her fair share. The woman took another dramatic drag, her unblinking eyes locked onto Sophie’s. “I’m afraid you’ll have to leave now.” Sophie made an attempt to turn and open the door, forgetting that here feet were stuck in place.
”You are by far the tackiest thing in here.” Sophie fell backwards as the whirlpool of shadows released her feet and fled into the woman. Sophie felt paralyzed as she watched the strangers feet leave the ground, the air around her darken as the woman turned translucent. Sophie couldn’t move, she couldn’t breathe, she didn’t even react when the ghostly woman rushed towards her. No, not towards, through. The woman went through her. The shop doors burst open as Sophie writhed from the sharp pain coming from her chest. The woman looked down at her, sprinkling her with cigarette ashes. In her opposite hand was an arrow, drenched in red. “Tell Howl I send my regards.”
Sophie’s legs ached as she clambered upright, “I’ve got to stay calm,” she muttered. There was no wound where her chest stung, there was no blood staining her dress, and there was no use panicking. “Just go inside and go to bed, this is all just a bad dream.”