by Rebecca Brae
As she spoke, the webbed lines of her face smoothed, her body plumped in all the right places, and her skin took on the rosy shine of youth. Her hair remained the same luminescent white, but twined itself into an intricate crown of braids and curls. She was the very picture of youthful health, down to the playful smile on her full lips.
Hekate waved a hand and levitated Mother back to the table. The druid stared dejectedly at the newly shrivelled leaf in the palm of her hand and let out a faint whimper as a wind blew through the hut, scattering the dead fragments across the floor.
“Pay attention, Mother. This is important. You two have been warned to play nice—in fact, that is why you are out here—and yet you continually stir up trouble with every new maiden witch I hire. I am the Goddess of Magick. All magick, whether wielded by witches, druids, or wizards. You are all mine, no matter how fervently each of you insist I am your patron alone. It matters not what method you employ to work the energies, or what words you use to describe them. Every scrap of power in you comes from me. You would be wise to remember that what I freely give, I can and will take away if you continue to thwart my wishes.”
Her words disturbed me as much as they did the sisters, but the look on Mother’s face distracted me from my troubled thoughts. It was worth putting up with their endless barbs and put-downs just to see them taken down a peg. Though, if I ever die in a seriously ugly fashion, I’m certain it will have something to do with a ticked-off druid.
Crone’s expression was strangely contented. I suppose she was just happy that I (and my entourage) would be gone and she could safely get back to her experiments.
The conversation seemed at an end, so I bade Hekate a final farewell, assuring her that I had intended no offence and hoped she could forgive my foolishness. She stopped me outside.
“Hester, do not despair. I spoke with your intrepid union representative. Ouleah is a special gift to us all and you are blessed to have her counsel. I understand your challenges. Every young witch must figure out where they fit. For some it is easy, but for others it is a longer and more vexing journey. You have talents. You will find your place.”
I should have held my tongue and left, as it is never prudent to question a goddess, but I couldn’t help myself. I had to know. “What you said before, about all magick coming from you and that you could take it away . . . is that what happened to me?”
She smiled. “Power should never be wielded lightly, especially in drunken bets. As a Daughter of the Moon, your actions have deep and abiding consequences—for yourself, those around you, and the worlds. You have a much better understanding of that now, wouldn’t you say?”
I nodded, aware that far worse could and probably should have happened. What if I had accidently banished half of Magda instead of summoning half a phoenix? I would never have forgiven myself. My suns of drunken spell casting are over.
“By the way, the butterflies are an amusing touch.” The humour dancing in her eyes faded and her voice lowered in warning. “But take care to never return to your old ways. Do not step beyond the line of balance with your castings. Magick will equalize itself, either through other wielders or through me. You must always understand what you are doing and the reasons why because they will shade the outcome.”
I was silent for a moment, thinking back in time, through my jobs and college and earlier schooling, recalling all the questionable choices made and risks taken. The excuses and reasoning which made perfect sense at the time crumbled under the pressure of experience. Many of the consequences I had viewed as unfair and grossly out of proportion, suddenly felt like a gift, a fair shake at a second chance, and occasionally even a third or fourth. Some lessons took longer than others to learn. Most took even longer to understand.
“Thank you for . . . everything.” I checked that Herman was safely positioned and settled onto my broom. “Somewhere, somehow, I lost myself in magick and it became all I was and all I valued. When it was suddenly gone, I felt like I was adrift in a hopeless void. I’m trying to find my way back. I really am. I centre a little deeper in my core every sun. I’m rediscovering who I am, my spirit. There’s a special kind of power in that, a grounding completely outside of magick. Without it, I’m not whole and neither are my magickal workings. That truth sings in my bones. It is the piece I was missing. I’ve been searching for it my whole life without even knowing.”
“A-ha!” Hekate clapped her hands in delight. “Then you are close to understanding your place in the worlds. I shall follow your progress, and that of your fascinating companions, with interest.”
She absently waved a hand at the clouds and the storms circling the moors dissolved. The moon’s rays embraced us and I looked up into the endless twinkling constellations. It was as if the night sky had been washed and polished.
No winds disturbed my journey back to Aestradorra and Magda. Not that I remember much of it. My mind was fully absorbed in the fact that a goddess had just declared an interest in my future. And not any goddess—Hekate, the Goddess.
The gods have even longer memories than royals. I am mired in some seriously deep trouble now.
Pandias, Seed Moon 13, 209
I GAVE MYSELF a sun to recover and now it’s back to the grindstone.
Magda, being the kind soul she is, welcomed me with open arms, though she could barely believe my story. She wanted to know every detail about Hekate and was most intrigued, yet understandably terrified, about her interest in me.
There’s nothing I can do but ride it out. I don’t think my life is interesting enough to hold a goddess’s attention for long, but Magda isn’t so sure.
Missera was happy to have Herman back. She didn’t stop hissing all eventide. He has taken to riding around on her again, like a slimy growth stuck to her back. It scared the crap out of Magda. From the amount of amusement our familiars derived, I’m guessing that was the intention.
There is no sign of Bob or the giant moth yet, but I’m sure they’ll make an appearance. I warned Magda that Mothlady might show up. The only thing we can do is keep the blackout curtains closed after dark.
Magda is working on reversing my improvised Moonbrews potion, but progress is slow. I’m glad to be back so we can work on it together. Narrowing down the list of ingredients and factors is as headache inducing as the blasted enigmas in our Magickal Probabilities and Analytical Casting courses. They always felt too close to thrice-cursed wizardry. It’s a good thing Magda has never met a puzzle she didn’t enjoy solving. I’ve always been a gut-level caster which is no help in this particular situation. At least I can do the grunt work of mixing and recording results for her.
Speaking of guts . . . mine were decidedly tingly and on edge when I stopped by the WU job bank this morn. For good reason! Justin—my old college boyfriend / nemesis—was there. It was a most unwelcome surprise.
I ducked behind a pillar when I spied him kissing his mother goodbye on the front steps. He left and his mother headed into WU headquarters (a swankier building beside the job bank). She wore business robes and looked mighty comfortable in her surroundings. My offal suggested I follow, so I did.
Lo and behold, what did I find? . . . the reason I ended up with a cockroach as a familiar and Magda, an asp! Justin’s mother disappeared into an interior office in the Familiar Department. The fog has finally parted. I knew my familiar assignment was a calculated insult, I just didn’t know why. Now, I do. And Justin probably overheard Magda telling me she was scared of snakes and passed that tidbit onto his dear mother. How spiteful!
The department’s receptionist stopped sharpening her teeth long enough to curtly ask if I had an appointment. I pretended to be lost. It happens a lot as WU headquarters is a maze, several stories of maze in fact.
I suspect it was designed to weed out inexperienced witches and those with weaker magicks. The union has always attracted a snobbish sort—Ouleah being the only exception I’ve encountered. It’s a challenge to find the office you’re looking for without magic
kal aids, and, if you do get that far, chances are you won’t find your way back out. It’s fiendishly effective, but easily thwarted if the magickally bereft witch has a spot of common sense (sadly, not as common as it should be).
Not wanting to drain my limited stores of magick as I’m saving up to transmute Herman, I decided to hang around until lunch and follow someone out. Common sense FTW! Unfortunately, this left me with an abundance of time to ponder things.
Actually, I did more seething than pondering. It’s painful to recall my suns with Justin and I hate that because a first love should be a fond memory. We met on the first sun of our first semester. I was proud to be a student at Grimoire College and believed myself to be a mature, sharp individual. My mind was full of ideas and hopes and idiotic misconceptions (at the time I thought them utterly brilliant). We snuck out of our last class and went on our first date. Yeah, I was super mature.
In the beginning, it was an enchanting, heady whirlwind. I thought myself blessed to find someone who shared my interests and who was so involved and caring.
Then his attention deepened. Became something ugly. Little by little, gradually enough that I missed the changes, he started taking over every aspect of my life, until I caught myself lying just to spend time with Magda.
I’m an independent person. To this sun, I don’t understand how it happened. That’s not quite true. At some point, a thousand tiny manipulations piled up enough for me to notice. I remember thinking it was easier to give in than to constantly fight over every little thing. Until then, he’d sneakily run off with whatever bits of control he could, but that was when I gave my power away.
That’s no way to live, especially for a witch who’s born to be one with the very elements of life. Powerlessness eats away at your spirit, makes you forget who you are and that you have a voice. I suppose that explains why I invested so much of myself in magick. It was my refuge. That connection was the only thing he couldn’t touch.
Interesting. I never thought about it like that before. Huh. Score one for writing out your thoughts.
Come to think of it, maybe that’s one of the reasons I have issues with authority (or people’s perceived authority—there I go again).
When I eventually broke up with him, he took it far worse than I could have imagined. It was beyond embarrassing to tell campus security what had happened and ask for help breaking into our shared dorm room. The force field he erected was maddeningly beyond my ability, and I refused to abandon all my clothes and class tomes and, well, everything, including my dignity. Not sure I entirely got that last one back.
Involving the officials raised his ire, but that was nothing compared to when he found out I had moved in with Magda. From that sun on, he blamed her for our breakup and completely lost it. Everything came to a head when he directed a pack of fire elementals to torch our building.
I always thought he got off lightly, being expelled (I wasn’t alone—I’ve never seen Magda so angry), but I remember his mother sitting behind him as evidence was presented at the college board meeting. She gave me a look that would have curdled the All Mother’s milk. I guess it’s not surprising that she took up his crusade to ruin our lives. Far be it for her to try to correct her son’s atrocious behaviour. He probably came by it honestly. For all I know, his whole family is toxic.
I can’t see Justin’s mother carrying out this campaign of professional sabotage against Magda and myself without his knowledge. He must be involved. The spite behind it is all too familiar. I’ll never forgive him for ruining my last semester of college and nearly causing me to miss graduating with my class, but I had hoped he would at least get past what happened between us. I guess not. In truth, neither did I. That kind of experience isn’t something you walk away from without serious scars.
And now here he is, once again, making my life difficult. And Magda’s too. She never deserved his wrath (neither did I, though that took me a long time to realize). It makes me sick that her friendship with me has cost her so dearly.
To be honest, I considered not telling Magda about Justin and his mother. It was a short deliberation. I owe her the truth. As thorny and complicated as it is, truth is pretty much all I have to offer.
The best path forward is veiled. We could expose Justin’s mother, but that might not go in our favour. It’s dependent on who she knows and how much the union cares. I’m not confident they’ll care at all. But, doing nothing to balance out their malicious interference doesn’t feel right either. I’ll see what Magda thinks.
Bouncing off a hungry orc witch who was charging through the hall jarred me out of my thoughts. He stalked past and I followed, seeing my opportunity to escape the maze. Safe to say, our journey was speedy and unmolested. No one alive is stupid enough to get between an orc and their next meal. He led me directly out of WU headquarters and promptly disappeared into the nearest tavern.
After this morn’s alarming revelations, my visit to the job bank was positively pleasant, if unhelpful. And to think, that was the part I had been dreading.
As I feared, Ouleah solemnly informed me there were no union job openings at this time. She promised to keep looking and said I shouldn’t lose hope. Even she had difficulty giving the situation her usual positive spin. Then, she did something most odd.
She coiled several tentacles around me and pulled me into a corner. In hushed tones, she suggested I might have better luck obtaining freelance work at a non-union job bank. One of her tentacles slipped a scrap of parchment with an address into my hand while her others clapped me on the shoulder, gave me a firm handshake, and shoved me out the door.
Going to a non-union job bank feels a bit shady to me, but my options are limited: I can impose further on Magda and hope a union job opens up soon, give up and go home to my parents in utter disgrace, or take a chance on some freelance work.
I’m not ready to turn in my cauldron yet, but does a non-union job even count as a placement for my Adept qualification? If it doesn’t, surely Ouleah wouldn’t have made the suggestion. I’ll have to look into it.
Now, I have to figure out how to tell Magda about Justin and his mother and our familiar misfortune. I feel so guilty and I seriously resent that. Damn them and their meddling.
NOTE: Ask Magda how Missera came to possess such a prolific collection of miniature hats. She has sported a different style every sun since my return. This morn she proudly slithered around in a jaunty new top hat adorned with a blue feather. It would have been an attractive look if it weren’t for the pallid oozing lump on her back.
NOTE II: Do something about Herman’s form ASAP.
Tydias, Seed Moon 16, 209
I MUST KEEP my scribing short this eventide. I’m knackered and covet sleep.
I spent most of this morn trying to locate the non-union job bank (not an easy task when their address only intermittently exists), and then I spent the rest of the sun browsing the posted jobs and chatting with patrons. Once I figured out how to get down to them.
The place is massive. Its entrance opens onto a balcony that extends around the perimeter of the building. The main floor below is crammed with makeshift boards and desperate job seekers. And I thought WU headquarters was a maze! There is a dedicated herd of minotaurs taking newcomers on guided tours (for a price). I should have coughed up the coin, but I got stubborn.
Even finding the platform that lowers to the main floor proved challenging. I tried to take the one the minotaurs were using, but I was sternly escorted off and told it was for tour groups only. After circumnavigating the balcony several times, I grew tired of searching and sat on a reasonably clean section of floor. Cleanliness and organization appear to be of equal importance to management.
Suddenly, I was sinking. At first, I thought I was experiencing some kind of slow-motion faint—the air was hot and thick with everyone’s combined breathing and sweating and flaring and oozing. After a stunned moment, I realized I had inadvertently sat on an unmarked conveyer.
I’ve nev
er seen so many different species under one roof. I expected fights but, apart from a scuffle between two alpha scaflags, there was little excitement. I guess the common goal of finding gainful employment binds tighter than speciesist enmity.
It’s an old-fashioned establishment. Everything is printed on scrolls and tacked to boards. Nothing is organized. The layout is nonsensical enough that I suspect Crone or a close relative of hers must have had a hand in it. There were job postings for moreuvian apenator shrews in with ones for dighert domers, and everyone knows those two species release gasses that are explosive when in close proximity. I moved the dighert domer postings to a board on the other side of the warehouse.
I should have packed supper for myself. The comprehend lingua charm Magda lent me only works on spoken words, so I had to cast a read languages spell to understand the job postings. There were more languages represented than I believed existed. Keeping the spell active for so long completely sapped my power. (NOTE: Recharge crystals!)
There were postings for every profession and species. Finding something in the chaos that fit my particular skill set was a chore, but I ended up with three possibles. Three! My witch-sense screamed that this was one of Hekate’s dreaded triple crossroad moments. I pondered my choices very carefully indeed.
I eliminated the first because of the fine print at the bottom: Scythian arthropods preferred. They probably want someone with detachable brain segments, and possibly claws. There’s no way I have the skill or access to enough power to pull off that level of transmutation on myself at the moment.
The second posting was for an Apprentice witch. Experience and education-wise, I’m overqualified, but without full access to my magicks I might not be a viable candidate. It also mentioned something about caring for juvenile flying monkeys. I’ve never been good with youngsters in general, or FMs in particular. I imagine the combination would be catastrophic. Even so, I was reluctant to eliminate the job and took down the information.
