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The sun was fading rapidly over the horizon. From the window of her shop, Pidge looked out at the sky as it grew rich in color. Oranges, pinks, reds, and blues spread against the sky. She sighed at the marvelous sight- it was one she would never get tired of. Ducking below the oak counter for a few seconds, she dug around in search of a few spare coins she had dropped earlier. The bell on the door clambered, sending Pidge’s head flying up in shock and hitting her head against the hard wood. She winced for a few moments, but managed to put on a fake smile and faced her customer.
“Hello, sir. I’m afraid it’s closing time, but you’re welcome to come back tomorrow!”
“No. Not yet,” the man whispered harshly. Pidge’s eyes widened in response and she opened her mouth to protest. The man just held his finger to his lips and gestured for her to be quiet. Pidge glared, but let him continue. “I need a potion.”
Pidge looked at the man before her. He was disheveled, his clothes, if they could even be called that, were practically in tatters and his beard, more a mass of matted hair, seemed to be far too long to have ever been in a state of neatness. One thing she had to give him credit for, though, was that he did not skimp out on the stench. He reeked of mud with a side of manure. Flies followed him like the train on a bride’s gown. She’d seen people like him before- they often disguised themselves in rags to convince people for potions and other magical wares. But this one seemed different somehow.
Maybe it was the repulsive stench radiating from his body, or maybe Pidge was actually feeling some sort of sympathy for this man, but she decided to hear his plea. She leaned against the counter and nodded towards him. “Go on.”
“A love potion,” he said shiftily, constantly pacing and changing his weight from foot to foot. “The strongest one you have.”
Her jaw dropped. Did he really just-? Does he know how-? She regained her composure.
“Sir, do you realize-”
“Please, call me Ezra. Ezra Kane.”
“Alright then, Ezra ,” she continued, “I don’t know what you’re asking for. I mean, I do, but love potions are incredibly difficult to make. I don’t even know if I can make one!”
Ezra stopped his fidgeting and looked down. “Oh. Well… I just thought… I just imagined you were stronger. The villagers always talk about you like you’re the most powerful sorceress in all the land, and-”
His voice trailed off and his face dropped like he was about to cry. She hated seeing people cry. Pidge sighed, only half-reluctant. “I suppose I can make one. However, it is going to come at a cost.”
The man beamed at her. “What is the price? I don’t have much, but I will give you anything I have! You can have my first born child, if that is what you want! Anything, everything!”
“Whoa, whoa, easy there,” Pidge interrupted. She walked from around the counter to stand face to face to him- or as close as the short witch could. “I don’t really want much. Plus, I’d rather not take something from you. We can discuss payment later.”
Ezra nodded with delight. He smiled intensely and shuffled out the door. Pidge sighed and slumped down against the counter. A love potion, huh? Can’t be too bad.
She walked over to her shelf and sighed at the sight of her messy piles of books. Perhaps someday she would have the time, energy, and sheer patience to clear and organize it, however that day was not today. Pidge waved her hand lazily, she muttered out, “Stuendo.”
The books flew off the shelf and leaving only the book she needed- The Libraries of Potions . It was the biggest book she had, and certainly the best bet in her quest for a love potion. She stared at the book. Its massive pages stared back. She blinked her eyes. It blinked its eyes back. Pidge threw up her hands in frustration. “I didn’t want it to come to this, but if you’re really gonna be like this!”
The book whimpered and flinched at the threat. Pidge sighed in relief. There was no reason for it to be so difficult. She flipped to the section on love and searched diligently through the massive pages marked as love potions. But, as it was a collection of just about every potion known, there were quite a few different ones. She shrugged it off and looked for the most basic one. Unfortunately, “basic” was not a reasonable standard. All of the potions had ingredients she had no idea where to find, and some she had never even heard of. Pidge slammed the book shut and hurled it across the room in frustration.
“GAH! It’s no use!” she angrily cried. The book practically gulped, before rushing back towards Pidge. It flipped itself open to the love potions section again, folding a page down like a hand, and pointing to one of the potions.
Five ingredients, seemed easy enough. Tears of a widow, a love letter left unsent, a bouquet of dead pansies, the heart of an unrequited lover, and the pocket watch of the regretful. Okay, so maybe not so easy.
There was no way that Pidge could do something like this in a matter of days. It would take weeks, maybe months, to get the ingredients. And what even were the ingredients? Pocket watch- okay, fairly normal. Pansies- again, not too difficult. Heart of an unrequited lover?- that might be a bit extreme! But Pidge chose to digress and focus more on the how, rather than the why. Things were shaping up to be more difficult than she had anticipated.
For starters, she had absolutely no idea of where to find any of the ingredients. They all seemed unnecessarily complicated. So who better to bring her list to than her closest and most trusted friend, Allura? The hike was going to be a long one, especially in the dead of night. Pidge decided it best to wait until morning to make the trek.
Morning came and went. Pidge slept through her alarms, which she could have sworn she set the night before but knew deep down inside that she never did, leaving her to walk as the sun began to set all over again. Luckily, Pidge knew Allura was good at transportation spells, but she didn’t trust herself to so much as even attempt a transportation spell. She packed a small bag and closed the door to her shop, which was attached to her living quarters. Locking the door behind her, Pidge sighed and began her walk.
It was not too difficult to underestimate the length of her journey to Allura’s hut, though that was now Pidge’s biggest regret. With every step she took, she could see more and more forest ahead of her. The darkness of the wood on the trees glowed with sun as the light bounced from trunk to trunk. Even if the sun was starting to set, it was still absolutely beautiful to see. But Pidge didn’t have time to sight-see. Her feet began to ache as she reached the final stretch of the way, catching a glimpse of the small hut belonging to her friend from over the hill.
She suddenly felt a tug against her pocket. Pidge looked down to see a small fairy pulling her, squealing something illegible and pointing through a patch of briars and bristles nearby. She looked up towards the hill, atop of which Allura was waiting, along with her new found goal and the journey ahead of her. She looked down at the small fairy, distressed over some foliage. Pidge groaned. “What is it, short stuff?”
The fairy huffed in response, but flew up quickly to Pidge’s hand and lead her through the trees, deeper and deeper into the forest. With every bound, she protested, but the fairy continued nevertheless. The woodland creature stopped finally at a thick patch of trees with a massive red circle around it. Pidge recognized the enchantment- a protection spell. She rolled up her sleeves and sat down on the soft dirt outside the circle. Placing her hands on the ground, she mumbled out a few words to lift the enchantment. The fairy’s eyes widened and she pinched Pidge on the wrist. Pidge opened her eyes and glared at the fairy, who in turn pointed to the trees in front of her.
“Trees” would be an inaccurate way to describe the creatures in front of them. Sure, they were tree-like, but they moved. And not in a friendly, cute way. In an aggressive “Gonna get you” way. Pidge snatched the fairy up by its tiny legs and sprinted back towards the path. The fairy wiggled out of her grasp and flew back towards the tree creatures, who were now in hot pursuit of Pidge. Pidge looked back just as the small pixie flew right into two of them, knocking them into a tree. The creatures and the fairy were vaporized in an explosion of golden fractals. Pidge kept running, faster and faster, until she snagged her ankle on a low briar, dragging her down to the forest floor. Her arms flailed for a few seconds before her hand hand wrapped around something cold and smooth. She grasped the object and quickly flipped it over in her palms. A charm? Really? All the way out here of all places? Whatever, I’m gonna die anyways, might as well give it a shot.
Pidge rolled over and hurled the mysterious object at the rapidly approaching treant and squeezed her eyes shut in anticipation. The strange charm shot out a ray of light, engulfing it in the bright light. White light filled the air, blinding Pidge.
When she came to again a few moments later, the treant was nowhere to be found. She stood up and dusted some stray dirt from her once green, but now brown, pants. Approaching the strange object, Pidge could get a better view of whatever it was. It had a rusted-over, metallic shell with some sort of illegible engraving on the outside. She picked it up from off the remnants of what she could only assume used to be a treant, turning it over and over in hands, searching for some clue as to what it could be. The rounded object felt strangely active now. It vibrated a bit. Pidge held it to her ear and shook it violently. Something inside clattered around.
Pidge sat down on the ground once more and fiddled with the thing in front of her. She twisted and turned what she could only assume was the seam of the strange object. A small latch protruded from the surface suddenly. She pulled it open, revealing the inside. It seemed to be a small compass on one side with an oddly placed metal fragment on the other. The metal piece was surrounded by strange markings- numbers, perhaps? The compass vibrated intensely, startling Pidge. She threw it away again. Something inside of it screamed mechanically.
“That’s no way to treat a wandering spirit,” the mechanical voice croaked hoarsely. Pidge blinked.
“I’m sorry, a what? ”
“A wandering spirit, you beetle-headed nimwit!” cried the evidently annoyed spirit. “You just got my sister killed!”
“Oh, um. I’m sorry,” Pidge said sympathetically. The metallic compass seemed to scoff with disbelief. Pidge picked it back up and put it on a nearby tree branch. “I’m truly sorry for your sister, but I have places to be.”
“No, no! There’s likely a misunderstanding. See, she’s the one who trapped me in here to begin with- to say that I hate her is a severe understatement. So let me repay you! Take me with you!”
Pidge thought for a second. “What’s in it for me?”
“Well, I’m called a wandering spirit for a reason. We wander, so we get to be very good at directions,” the spirit replied in a quite convincing tone. Pidge sighed and pulled the compass into her pocket. “My name is Wren.”
“Pidge. Now if you don’t mind, we have to get to my friend’s house. It’s already getting late,” was her response. With the compass safely tucked away in her pocket, she found her way back to the rocky path and continued on her way to Allura’s home.
The rest of her trip took only a few minutes. She reached the gate to the house and knocked the secret pattern, opening up to reveal the massive cottage Allura lived in. Pidge walked up the cobbled stairs to the sandstone facade. She knocked against the iron knocker, which let out loud booms as it hit against the massive cedar door. “Allura! It’s Pidge!”
There was a rustling from behind the door. It swung open to reveal Allura, in a fancy pink robe and curlers in her hair. She pulled Pidge inside and slammed the door behind her.
“Pidge! What’s up, sweet pea?” Allura said, wrapping her arms around her in a massive bear hug. “I haven’t seen you in so long! What’s up?”
Pidge quickly explained her situation while Allura nodded along. She’s so wise.
“And so,” she finished, “I need your help finding the ingredients.”
Allura stared at her blankly, “Ingredients for what?”
So much for wise. “You’re joking, right?”
“Eh, you lost me halfway through. I’m just nodding along, probably.”
Pidge sighed, “I’m going to make a love potion-”
“A LOVE POTION? Do you have any idea how hard those are to make?” cried Allura, banging her hands on the table.
“Yeah- That’s why I came to you, Allura. You’ve been my mentor, my magical matey, my motherly mage!”
“Oh. My. Goodness. You are just the most adorable thing ever. I’ll help you, sweetie. What do you need?”
Pidge explained once again what she needed and everything of that sort, adding the occasional “You with me?” and “See what I mean?” just to double check. Allura seemed to understand much better this time around.
“Well for starters, I know a widow. A close friend of mine, actually. She doesn’t live too far from her, so I can certainly help you with that much!” she scanned through the rest of the list. “Pansies? Really?”
“Yeah, they’re cupid’s flower. That should be the easiest probably,” Pidge chuckled. Allura stared at her with a look of disbelief.
“Oh honey, you have no idea. The only place you can find pansies anywhere close to here is Venus’ garden.”
“What’s the big deal? I just sneak into Venus Gardens or whatever it is-”
“NO, no, you don’t want to do that. Venus Acelin Payne is a powerful sorceress, the most powerful sorceress, for that matter. She keeps the pansies in her garden to ensure that no one, and I mean no one can become more powerful than her. A horrible person, really,” Allura finished spitefully. “The others I’m not sure about. I guess you’ll have to do some adventuring of your own. OH! Whatever you do-”
“Don’t go out of order,” Pidge said, recalling the days when Allura would help her through basic potions. Occasionally, she would go with the easiest ingredients first, neglecting the majority of her work for the end. Pidge remembered the aches and boils she suffered from her numerous errors in following instructions and shuddered slightly.
Allura nodded proudly. “That’s my girl! Now get back to your shop, darling, you’ve got a long journey ahead of you!”
Pidge hated this part. Teleportation spells always made her feel a bit queasy. Green and red whizzed around her, swallowing up her tiny form. From inside the vortex around her, she felt her body being stretched and pulled up and above the cottage, far away from the forest, and back towards her home. She felt a burning sensation against her leg. Pidge took the compass out of her pocket and shook it a few times to calm Wren down. It occurred to her that she never mentioned the strange compass to Allura, but that it would have to wait until her journey was over. Pidge appeared inside her bedroom and collapsed on the bed, falling asleep almost instantaneously.
Morning came too soon. Pidge awoke restless and sore from the teleportation spell from the night before. But despite all of that, she somehow mustered the energy and sheer willpower to change her clothes and begin to make a list of things to pack: charms, a few coins, extra potions, a list of quick spells and resources, a packable tent, and of course, food and water.
Food and things like that were quite easy to gather, but the other things started to prove more challenging. Extra potions, for example, were not generally on hand, however, she knew exactly where to find them- her grotto.
Pidge had practically grown up in that grotto. She cast her first spell there. She made her first potion, bagged her first charm, set up her first sale, all in the tiny grotto. Pidge placed her hand on the stony wall. It glowed warmly at her touch. She gave a small grin and felt connected to the small grotto once again.
In a streak of luck, her enchanted bag was right where she remembered leaving it. It wasn’t as big as she remembered it, however, a quick expansion charm did the trick for her.
In the center of the grotto stood a small pool of enchanted water. Pidge dipped her hand in it and felt the smooth, silky water. The pool was warm and thick, like oil, and it shimmered like the night’s sky. She bathed her face, letting the faint heat wash over her. Finally, Pidge placed her hands against the glimmering surface, just barely breaking the watery seal. She murmured out a communication spell. Her brother’s face flickered into view. Pidge rocked back on her heels and waved. “Hey Matt!”
“Hiya, Katie!”
“Oh my spirits, Matthew Holt, if you call me that again, so help me Zeus-”
Matt chuckled slightly, “Alright Pidgeon.”
“Close enough,” Pidge scoffed. “I have a favor to ask though...”
“Oh no, what is it this time?”
“Wellllllllll… I need to do a bunch of stuff to get ingredients. And I need someone to watch the shop sooooo…”
“No, no, no. That’s a big fat no. Sis, I will do everything for you- anything for you- just not that,” Matt sighed and shook his head. “Except maybe...”
“What is it? I will do anything .”
“ Anything? ” Matt asked with a certain glint of mischief in his eye.
“I’m desperate here, man!” Pidge begged. Matt’s image changed slightly in the pool of water.
“Alright then, it’s settled. I’ll watch your shop in exchange for… THREE shapeshifting potions!” Matt cried, his eyes glimmering in triumph. Pidge rolled her eyes and groaned, but she nodded reluctantly. Matt grinned. “Pleasure doin’ business with you, little sis. I’ll be there in a jiffy.”
Pidge splashed away the image of Matt from the pool of water before her. Sure enough, in just a matter of moments, Pidge heard a knock on the wall of her grotto.
When she looked towards the source of the noise, there stood Matt, stupid cape and all. He had had that same cape for as long as she could remember. Same dark honey-colored eyes, same bright smile, same ginger hair, same ratty cape, same brother. It had only been a few months since he had returned from his research mission, where he had been reported as missing for what felt like years, despite being only a handful of months. Pidge embraced him tightly. “Good to see you, man.”
Pidge showed Matt to the store and gave him a run down of his new everyday tasks. He seemed to catch on quite quickly, which was a pleasant surprise for Pidge, who was usually very lazy. She explained a few quick and easy potions for Matt to make, giving him only the most simple of instructions, so there was nothing that could go wrong, or so she hoped. While Matt found it patronizing, Pidge held to her idea that “Go big or go home” would require her to “go home” if something happened. After hours of heckling, Pidge felt that her brother knew enough to run the store in her absence.
“So you know where to find me...”
“You have a tracker in your bag,” Matt sighed. Pidge nodded and continued.
“And if something goes wrong?”
“Pull the mystery wire three times.”
“And tell me through a communication spell,” Pidge added.
She finished packing the last of her items and pulled Matt into a bear hug. Pidge smiled at him. Matt ruffled her hair. This is going to be okay. He’s my brother, how bad can this turn out? I won’t be gone for long, anyways... but then again he’s Matt. Ugh.
Pidge slugged her bag across her shoulder and pulled out her compass. “Wren, take me to Allura’s widow-friend.”
After a few hours of aimless wandering through the forest, Pidge slumped down against a tree. She was tired of walking and had next to no idea of where she was going. The compass started to burn in her pocket. Feeling the hot pain suddenly against her leg, Pidge snatched the metal piece out of her pocket and chucked it into a bush. The bush caught on fire. Pidge stumbled away from the rapidly growing blaze, tripping on a stick.
“ Restorus Magnate! ” Pidge squealed as the flames grew uncomfortably close. They suddenly rescinded, turning the bush back to its normal state. She scampered back towards the bush and poked her head inside of it, searching for the compass, which had latched itself onto a branch. Pidge snatched wildly at it, though it seemed to be evading her grasp. She plopped down again on the forest floor once again, resolving to find a better use of her time from that point on. The compass flashed passed by her face, just inches from nicking her on the cheek, landing a few feet from where she sat. She crawled towards the compass, snatching the chain she had fastened onto it before she left, and pulled it back to her.
“Let me go, you mage!” Wren screeched. Pidge just shook the compass, trying to get her to quiet down. “Alright! Alright! I’ll stop!”
“Will you now? Because last time I checked, you’re the one that I freed from an eternity as a tree. So unless you want to go back to the wooden life, I think it’s best that you find a better form of communication besides burning me!” Pidge roared.
The compass seemed to sigh, letting out a loud rattle. “If you took me out of your pocket, maybe I would have a bit more compassion in trying to tell you that you’re going in the wrong direction.”
“Well what’s the right direction?”
“What’s the magic word?”
“Do it or you’ll die.”
“Close enough. Take a left at the next fork.”
The walk was only a few more hours. She arrived at the head of a run-down village by the sea. From where she stood, she could see waves crashing against the cliffs upon which the small town sat. Cliche.
Pidge quickly found a villager and asked them to point her in the direction of the the widow’s house. There was some trouble when the villager explained that the widow was refusing to see anyone, but Pidge insisted. The villager sighed and directed her to a modest cottage at the edge of the town, right by the cliff. As she approached, Pidge could see the face of a young woman in the seafoam sprayed window. Very cliche.
She knocked on the heavy door. The face from the window appeared in a glass pane next to the door. “Hello?”
“Ms. Hannon?” Pidge asked, looking up from her list of tasks and instructions.
“Formerly. My name is Terra. Terra Heather,” the woman replied stonily, wrapping her shawl tightly around her thin, rigid figure.
Pidge gathered her thoughts once more. “Ms. Heather, I’m very sorry for your loss.”
“Yes well, I’m not, so unless you have something else, I would implore you to kindly-”
“I’m a friend of Allura’s,” Pidge said hopefully. The woman’s body seemed to become a bit more relaxed.
“Oh. I’m Terra, but I mean, I already said that. Do you want to come in? It’s a bit brisk outside. I have a kettle on if you want some tea,” Terra smiled warmly. Pidge nodded and she ushered her in.
“So why are you here?” Terra asked as she poured tea into two cups. “One sugar or two?”
“Two please,” Pidge hesitated. “I’m making a love potion. And one of the ingredients… is tear of a widow.”
Terra made a confused expression before continuing sympathetically. “Well I don’t know how much luck you’re going to have with me.”
“I mean… I don’t know exactly what you mean- I thought- Allura told me that-”
“It’s true that I’m a widow now, yes,” she nodded and sat up as stiff as a board once again, “but my husband was cruel. I never loved him. My tears were shallow when he passed. In all fairness, he was a good man to others. Just never to me. I’ve given enough for him, so to spend anymore time waiting for tears to come for someone I never cared about to begin with, would be pointless and a waste of time, in all honesty.”
“Oh… If you don’t mind, though, I have a question.”
The widow narrowed and blinked her emerald green eyes, flickering them like the flames in the fireplace. “What is it?”
“Why did you marry him?” Pidge asked cautiously. Something inside Terra seemed to change.
“It was an arranged marriage. I was the only way that my family could pay the debt they owed to the landowners. In exchange for my hand in marriage to their son, my family’s debts would be resolved and they could finally start making a profit. So I was married- just not of my own choice,” she responded sullenly.
“But he’s not here anymore. You are. You can start over!”
“That’s… that’s right! A few months ago, Luna came to town. She lives a few houses away from me,” Terra’s eyes glowed, shifting to a warm, earthy green, rather that the cold emerald they were earlier. “The first time we met, I felt this spark, this connection. I’ve never felt anything like that before. We shook hands and my heart started racing. My husband forbid me from seeing her and he said I shouldn’t have left the house to begin with.”
“You can be with her. He can’t control you. Never again.”
“Never again,” she repeated as tears welled up in her eyes. “Thank you...um. This is awkward. I don’t know your name.”
Pidge dug through her bag for a vial and uncorked it. “My name is Pidge, and if you could do me a quick favor and cry into this tube, I would greatly appreciate it.”
Terra Heather obliged. She thanked Pidge once more before escorting her back to the edge of the village. As she walked away, tucking the vial safely into a canvas pouch in her bag, she turned back to face Terra, who was chasing after a woman with long, moon-colored hair- Luna? . She caught up to her and grabbed her hand. Definitely Luna . Terra and Luna waved at Pidge as she wandered back into the thickness of the forest.
An unsent love letter.
Well that’s oddly specific. I mean, I guess I could just use a sent love letter. What’s the difference anyways!? Why am I doing this to begin with!? I just collected tears from a widow! A widow! Great, so I guess I’m going to Hades for making a widow cry. Whatever- I’m getting paid. One unsent love letter it is.
The forest was a mess. The elves had likely been having a party again when the fairies held their full-moon festival. For some unknown reason, elves and fairies never got along well, but never ceased to want to intrude on each other’s business. Pidge sighed at the sight of the environment in such bad disrepair. She began to pick up the scraps of paper littered haphazardly across the ground.
Advertisements, trade contracts, assorted letters- mail? Who’s just going around delivering the mail with a massive hole in their satchel? Pidge examined the piles in front of her and sorted them into stacks based on what type they were. Advertisements and bills, Pidge decided to burn, citing that she would be doing everyone a favor in doing so. However, the final category became an issue- letters. Sure, any of them could be love letters, but to be sure, she would have to open them to be certain. That would probably mess up the potion. So what else could she do besides become the new, backwards, Pony Express (except without a pony, much less “express”)?
The first few of Pidge’s patrons were less than satisfied that their mail was being returned. She had a whole slew of choice words thrown at her from a drunk man, crying about his divorce papers being returned to him, un-delivered a handful of handwritten notes from family members, and one or two birthday cards- but nothing of “love potion” standards. Pidge was frustrated, to say the very least. She was down to her last handful of letters, and nothing was leading anywhere.
“Can’t everyone stop buying love charms and just write letters for once?!” screamed Pidge. To her surprise, something rustled in the bushes beside her. She turned around to see a young man, likely only a few years older than her. He scrambled back behind a tree, but Pidge caught up to him.
“Who are you?” Pidge questioned, sizing up the man before her. He was tall and lanky, with deep blue hair and purple eyes. He wore a navy tunic and loose, cotton shorts. Around his shoulder sat a thick, black bag with all sorts of official-looking insignias and logos.
“Kendall. I’m Kendall. Who are you? And why do you have those?” Kendall asked, gesturing to the mail in Pidge’s hand. She reached for his bag and he pulled away.
“Don’t tell me that you’re-”
“I’m the mailman, yes.”
“Dude, full offense, you’re the worst mailman ever. ”
“Thank you..?”
“That’s not a compliment,” Pidge sighed. She held out the mail for him to take, but snatched it just before he could fully take it from her. “Not so fast. You can have this back, but you have to do something for me.”
“Is there an ‘or else’ in there? That sounds like a threat,” Kendall laughed. Pidge glared at him, shutting him up almost immediately.
“What I need from you is an unsent love letter.”
“Sure, I guess,” Kendall shrugged in response. He dug through his bag for a moment. “There’s this one couple that is always sending letters and messages to each other. I swear, sometimes almost half of my bag is just from them! Marriona is nice enough, and so is Riccardo, but their crap weighs so much! One time they literally sent rocks to each other!”
“Very nice, very nice,” Pidge said sarcastically. Kendall finally found a letter, labeled " To my dearest Riccardo, with all my love." Pidge thought she was going to gag. “Are all of their letters like this?”
The young man nodded. “You just have to ask her before you take it. Company policy.”
“Your company has a policy for this?”
“They do now!”
Pidge muttered under her breath about reporting him to someone, but took the letter and tucked it away in her bag. Kendall explained how to get to Marriona’s home, and she was off just like that.
“Who’s there? Is it my love come to see me once more?” came a high, feminine voice. The door swung open to reveal a blonde woman in… rather unsightly garments. She wrapped a sheer bathrobe around herself upon realizing that Pidge was not her intended audience.
“Marriona LeFoir?” Pidge asked as she awkwardly shifted her weight from foot to foot and stared at the ground.
“Yes,” she said modestly, “How may I help you?”
Pidge quickly explained why she was there while still staring at the ground she stood on, counting the bugs (apparently there were seven ants, three inchworms, and eight insects of various shapes and sizes that she didn’t recognize).
“I suppose you’ll want my letter, then?” Marriona sighed. Pidge nodded. The older woman rolled her eyes. Pidge leaned against the doorframe and tilted her chin upwards, imitating the confidence of a model with a superiority complex, adding in that saleswoman smile for good measure.
“Listen, from one gal to another- lemme have this one. You can write him another one and I will personally see to it that it gets delivered soon,” Pidge said smoothly. The woman bounced her loose blonde curls.
“Alright then. Just give me a second to find a pen,” Marriona said as she rushed around the house. Pidge offered one from her bag, which she took and quickly scribbled a heartfelt note on a scrap piece of paper. She shoved the letter back to Pidge, pushing her back out of the door as she did so. “Okie dokie, have a good journey, sweetie!”
It didn’t take long for Pidge to run into Kendall, the clumsy messenger boy, quite literally. She pressed the sloppy letter into his hands and cornered him into a small patch of trees.
“The next time you mess up this badly,” Pidge hissed under her breath, “Letters aren’t the only thing you’ll be missing, capiche?”
Kendall gulped and stammered out a shaky, “Yes ma’am”, before scrambling away back to his work. Pidge added the sealed envelope to her canvas pouch and continued on her way.
“Okay, so Allura told me that the witch’s house was easy to spot.”
“I know, I know!” Wren cried, rattling the compass slightly. Pidge pulled it off of her neck, where it had been sitting, less that comfortably, for hours. She opened it, hoping that she could navigate on her own. Unfortunately, the needle on the compass seemed to be broken, which left Pidge mildly infuriated and dizzy from spinning wildly around in circles.
“Alright, so where are we, Wren? You’re a wandering spirit! Isn’t your whole job… to y’know wander ?” Pidge asked as she tapped the side of the compass, searching for an answer. The compass snapped shut on her finger. She yanked it out and began swearing profane nonsense at the now-shut compass.
“Don’t touch my sides, it hurts!” Wren said angrily. “Make a right at the next tree.”
Pidge opened up the compass and held it in front of her. “In case you haven’t noticed, we’re in the middle of the forest!”
“Missed path, recalculating,” Wren said mechanically. Pidge groaned in frustration. She paced, more accurately stomped, around the forest, waiting for the compass to redirect. Pidge was tired, and homesick. She’d been gone for three weeks already, which felt like eons while she was still walking on foot. Pidge sat down on the ground and stared off into the distance. Her eyes began to widen.
“Wren?” she stammered.
“What is it now?” huffed Wren, sending a tiny electric shock through Pidge’s body, though she didn’t seem to notice, as she started to slowly point to a massive gate, behind which a tall hill stood.
“That. That’s what it is now.”
Pidge pointed her finger to the hill, atop of which sat a small hovel. Scattered along the grassy sides, leading up to the top, were what Pidge could only assume was thousands of pansies in as many colors as she could imagine. In all fairness to Allura, she did say it would be easy to spot.
Having just sat down, Pidge was less than thrilled at the thought of standing up once more, but suffered through and took to her feet. To her surprise, it was a quick journey to the foot of the hill, where Wren and her were met with a new opponent besides fatigue. The gate, which seemed to tower over the nearby trees, was made out of a tough iron-like metal, judging by the rust peeling off of the thick bars. Pidge had a plan.
Climbing over the gate seemed like a really good idea until she actually came to the realization that she was afraid of heights. At the top of the gate, Pidge waited for a moment, letting the feelings of nausea fade away, and then scaling back down the other side. Behind her, the gate seemed to grow even taller. She looked around to see heavy vines begin to sprout, twisting around the poles like cables. At her feet, she felt something start to hit her ankles. Looking back to the hill, she ran up it. But before she could snatch a flower and be on her way, a vine whipped her legs out from under her, sending her flying back down the hill. Pidge felt her body begin to ache, but she stood back up and attempted the same task, but to no avail.
Out of nowhere, a figure began to descend from the house at the top of the hill. Waves of purple and green seemed to flow from the train behind her, dragging in the field of flowers and killing whatever the touched. Her hair was in a sleek high ponytail with long bangs that framed her pale face. Blood red lipstick, deep purple eyeshadow, eyeliner with strong enough wings to fly away- Allura must have forgot to mention that this Venus chick is a massive show off!
“Venus Acelin Payne! Give me a flower!” Pidge shouted up the hill. Venus tilted back her head and let a small laugh slip from her red lips. Apparently that’s not how this works. Noted.
“You? Want one of my precious flowers?” she chortled. “Best of luck to you, young one. The only way to get one is to kill me.”
Pidge stared at her in shock. “Kill?”
“Darling, I’m the most powerful witch out there. You’re not going to be able to get a flower without doing so.”
“No, you’re not,” Pidge cried. What am I doing? “Because I am the most powerful witch!”
Venus laughed a maniacal and wicked laugh. Pidge shook with anger. Venus stared directly into Pidge’s eyes and spoke, her voice cutting through the air like sharpened glass. “You think you’re more powerful than me ?”
“Yeah, kinda!” Pidge replied, beginning to run towards Venus, who was absent-mindedly examining her nails. With a flick of her slender wrist, a large thicket vine whipped her ankles once again. Venus glared at Pidge for causing what seemed to be a massive inconvenience to her day.
“Fine. I guess we’re gonna do this the hard way,” Pidge panted. “Venus Acelin Payne, I challenge you to a duel!”
“Well it’s about time!” Venus grinned. She snapped her fingers, leveling the hill around them into a flat plane. Pidge shuddered slightly. There was no way that she would be able to take Venus. She was nowhere even close to as powerful as her. But she doesn’t know that!
The battle seemed to rage for hours. Strike after strike met Pidge’s skin. Vines lashed against her body, leaving thin, red scars along her arms and legs. But she’d managed to land some blows on the “untouchable” Venus as well- mainly her ego. She quickly realized that she was a chronic narcist. To use this to her advantage, Pidge implored one of the tactics she had learned from growing up in the shadow of her perfect older brother: bragging. Any achievement she ever made became a constant reminder that she could be better than anyone else and would put them in their place.
“Y’know- I’m making a love potion.” Pidge stated, dodging a quick-fire series of vines. Her opponent nodded. “I’m only 15.”
Venus cackled with laughter. “As if! You’re clearly using an aging reversal spell. No one has skin that flawless.”
“Thank you, darling, ” she mocked in response, “But this is all natural! I’m 15, and I’m already making one of the toughest potions known.”
“Yes, well, I-”
“I’m not anywhere close to being as old as you are! And I’m doing one of the hardest things known! I bet when you were my age, you didn’t even know what a potion was!” Pidge teased. Another batch of vines flung towards her, which she countered easily with a withering potion. The vines shriveled up and wilted into the flowers underneath. The flowers!
Pidge swooped down from the vine she had been riding like a horse in an attempt to maintain some semblance of control on the situation. She plucked a handful of the soft flowers and lit them on fire with a quick touch. No reaction from Venus. She bent down again, this time spilling a flaming potion onto the rooted flowers. They burned instantaneously. Venus shrieked in pain.
In making sure that the pansies grew only with her, they ended up growing in her too!
“ I ,” Pidge stated confidently, “Have figured out your secret.”
“I have no ‘secret’, you foolish-”
“Because, I am the smarter one here!” she interrupted with passion. She picked a handful of the flowers and held them tightly in her hand, squeezing and crushing them inside her palm. “ I am the better one, no, not just that- I am the best witch! I have defeated you!”
Venus Acelin Payne screeched in horror as Pidge dropped the crushed petals of the flowers onto the ground. She angrily jumped on them and poured a few spare potions on them. The petals continued to wither, taking the witch down with them. Once in her weakest form, Pidge strode confidently over to Venus. “Thanks for the flowers, you narcissistic witch.”
“What is it now, Wren?”
“I’m tired!” the spirit whined. Pidge groaned and shook her head.
“No, we can’t stop. We only have a few things left,” she said convincingly. “Plus, you’re not even the one walking- how are you tired?”
“I don’t know, it might have something to do with the fact that you’ve passed this same tree seven times today.”
“What!? Why didn’t you say something sooner? I could have...” Pidge’s voice trailed off at the end.
“Could have what - gone the other way? Like that would have helped at all!”
“Wren, be quiet.”
“I will not be quiet! That’s no way to speak to someone of my status! I’ll have you know that before I was-”
“Wren, sweetie, I love you to death, I truly do, but shut up.”
“Fine.”
Pidge had noticed a pair of boots from behind a bush. Wren’s compass seemed to nod in realization. She approached the strange boots and peeked from behind the bush. A man lay on the ground with a newspaper on his head. Pidge, with the precision of a high schooler on a roller skating date with his crush, moved the paper from his face. She could see his chest rise and fall and heard faint snoring from the disgruntled man. He’s just sleeping, that’s good.
Pidge backed up carefully away from the sleeping man, unfortunately right into a log. She fell backwards, letting out a small yelp as she did so. The man shuddered awake and roared out a loud sob.
“She’ll never love me! I’ll never love again!” he cried, hunching over and latching onto a nearby log, holding onto it like a teddy bear, before passing out once more. Pidge stood up slowly and crept towards him. She nudged him with her foot. The man’s eyes opened suddenly but winced at the sight of Pidge. He wrapped himself around her leg, sobbing once more.
Pidge sighed and looked down at him. “What are you doing?”
The man looked up at her and began to wipe away at his tears. He looked at her in awe, but then began to sob once more, “You look… just like her!”
Through the tears, the man introduced himself as Galen Ballard, the town drunk. Well, he had been, until recently. He met a woman, tall, fair, and all that jazz, with whom he fell in love.
“Her name was Melanie Weller… but I called her Melody because… her voice was so beautiful!” Galen’s voice cracked at the end of his sentence and he broke down once more. Pidge sat down next to him and gently placed a hand on his shoulder. He pulled her into a tight embrace and cried even more. Pidge looked at the man with sympathy.
“I don’t know if I can be of much help for you… but I’m making a love potion right now! If you gather more ingredients for me, I suppose I could make another one for you,” Pidge suggested. Galen shook his head in response.
“As much as it hurts to be unloved by her, it would hurt more to thrust my love upon her and have it required through artificial means.”
“Alright then, suit yourself,” she said, starting to get up. The compass around her neck sent a strong electric shock through her body. “Ow! What is your problem, Wren?”
The man looked around and shifted awkwardly to the other side of the log they were both sitting on as Pidge shook the metal object vigorously, pulled it off her neck, and proceeded to yell furiously at it.
“Pidge, you can’t seriously be thinking of leaving him here! You have to do something.”
“Well… it seems pretty unrequited to me.”
Pidge regained her temper moments later and focused her attention back on him.
“My friend and I think we can be of use to each other still. See, one of the requirements for a love potion is the heart of an unrequited lover and-”
“Please!” Galen cried. “Kill me! Take my heart and use it to save some poor innocent soul from the pain that I have suffered!”
“Poetic, but cool it, Romeo. I have something else in mind. Do you have a piece of paper?” Pidge asked. The man gestured quizzically at a pile of leaves. Pidge let out a heartfelt sigh and shook her head and began rummaging through her bag, looking for something to write on. She found a few pieces of thick card-like paper at the bottom of it and a sparkly green pen. Pidge handed them to him. “Okay, so here’s what we’re gonna do. Take the paper and make a heart on it.”
The man obliged, with surprisingly specific detail on the heart, seemingly going out of his way in making it as anatomically realistic as possible. Very weird, considering what Pidge was about to ask him to do.
“Alright, so now write how she made you feel.”
Galen scrunched his whole face up and then began to scribble furiously on the papers. Over his shoulder, she could make out a few not-so-friendly words, allowing her to piece together the story.
From what was written, she figured out that his desired love wasn’t a woman, rather a demon disguised as one. A demon of greed and deception that fed off of the spirits of her longing lovers. On one particular night, Galen and Melanie met up for dinner at the local tavern where she told him that if he did not propose to her with the best diamond ring ever on that very night, she would leave him forever. Galen, being rather unwealthy, could not find a ring that suited her wants, especially on such short notice. Thus, the demon came clean about her lack of any affection towards him and using him, taking advantage of his heart for a dinner here and there or a nice bracelet.
“It looks like you’ve written… quite a bit,” Pidge said softly, taking the card out of his hand. Examining it, she found that he had written, on both the front and back sides of the paper, were all of his grievances with her. Pidge felt a tinge of sympathy run throughout her body. She searched through her bag once more and fished out a pair of scissors, handing them to him. “Now, cut the heart out. Out of all the words, nice and neat, around the lines of the heart. And then give it to me.”
“Can I tear it up first?”
“How about… I take this one,” Pidge said as she took the cut out heart away from him.
“Mhm,” Galen nodded hesitantly.
“I give you some more paper and another pen!” Pidge suggested. She handed him the supplies and smiled with satisfaction. “There- you can do whatever you want to it! Burn it, tear it, rip it to shreds, eat it- I don’t care. But here you go, have fun!”
The compass around Pidge’s neck glowed hotly, causing the fabric of Pidge’s loose top to start to singe a bit.
“What now , Wren? We’ve got what we need,” Pidge complained.
“But he didn’t! We have to find some way to help him,” Wren sighed shrilly. Pidge rolled her eyes, but knew deep down inside that she was right. Turning back to the man, she pulled a luck potion out of her bag.
“Take this when you feel at your worst, head into town, find a tavern, and bet everything you’ve got- all or nothing. You have my guarantee that you’ll win.”
Everything was going according to plan. Only a few weeks into the journey and there was only one ingredient left- the watch. The pocket watch of the regretful, to be exact. What is with this potion and being so specific?
That final ingredient, though, was proving more difficult that anyone could have anticipated, especially Pidge herself. She had been to every town for miles that she could think of, offering to trade just about anything in order to find a watch. But not just any watch, as she was reminded every time that she opened her list, the pocket watch of the regretful. The pain of walking everywhere had become unbearable. Pidge was at the verge of giving up, heading home, and reporting her failure to Ezra, who would undoubtedly feel disappointed. Wren suggested she wait three more days before throwing in the towel for good.
By that third night, Pidge had made up her mind. Of course, there was always the slim chance that she could magically stumble upon her answer on the way back home, but Pidge was always taught to quit while she was ahead, and she wasn’t about to give that up now.
By that third night, as Pidge lay under the stars on the outskirts of her town, she wondered why she even took up the job to begin with. Why was she doing it anyways? There was no reason for her to keep going, in all honesty. Sure there was money, but she ran a store for a living! Money was not likely to be an issue. So why did she accept the job? Pidge recalled faintly that fateful morning.
“Oh. Well… I just thought… I just imagined you were stronger.”
Pidge had her answer: pride. She’d faced clumsy messengers, unrequited love, the second strongest witch she’d ever met. And for what? Nothing more than a simple emotion- pride.
At nights, she preferred to lay in the grass with her belongings strewn about wherever she liked. Wren’s compass was to her left, her bag to her right. Below her the soft, grassy ground, above her the open, starry skies. “I wish I had a watch, Wren.”
“Why?”
“Because I am definitely feeling regretful right now,” Pidge said, letting out a breath she felt had been held in her since her trip began.
“You sound kinda stressed… Do you wanna hear a story?”
Pidge shrugged, feeling the blades of grass caress her face gently as she did so. She let out a small giggle. She stretched her hands into the air above her lazily. She rolled over to catch a glimpse of the compass, which had sprung open, that strange piece of metal protruding out of its center. “Sure, Wren. A final story of surrender! The last hurrah!”
“It’s the story of how I got stuck in the dang watch. Still wanna hear? I can assure you, you’ll feel a billion times less regretful than me.”
Pidge nodded. From the center of the compass rose a swirling blue figure, taking loosely the shape of a fairy, almost identical to that of Wren’s sister. “Is this what you look like?”
The fairy smiled and bobbed her head- as “bob” as she could get, at least. Her bright white hair fell past her midriff with gentle, flowy waves. She wore a long dress adorned with all sorts of silvery bells and whistles. Wren spoke melodically, in direct contrast to her usual mechanical voice.
“I was a whole mess when I was younger, because trust me , I’m much older now. It’s been… maybe six years since she locked me away? I’m not quite sure, seeing as time becomes unnecessary when you live inside a closed, hollow, medallion, but that sounds about right. Anyways, where was I?”
“Uh… your sister locking you away in a-”
“Oh yes! Floura was most certainly justified in doing so. I betrayed her in the worst way possible.”
“And what’s that?”
“I stole her boyfriend. Er… tried to at least.”
“You did what?? ” Pidge roared. Wren scoffed and sat down, still hovering above the metal piece in her compass.
“It’s a long story, which is why I’m telling it to you! So yes, what I did was wrong, but in my defense, I had loved him first!” Wren paused for a second. Pidge kindly motioned for her to go on. “We both had known him since we were young. When we were, what you humans would call, ‘teenagers’, he and I dated for quite some time. However, he always seemed more connected to her than to me.
“Naturally, I was more than slightly upset because of this. We ended up breaking up. They starting spending more time with each other. Years went by and they got engaged secretly. But that honestly never stopped me...” Wren hesitated, choking back a few tears. “I just didn’t want to believe it was over between me and him. So I didn’t. I kept pretending that if I still flirted with him, got him gifts, and acted like he was still my lover, he would eventually come back to me. Evidently, that wasn’t the case.
“The final straw for Floura was when she caught me making a gift for him. It was a ring in a box. I was going to propose to him. I had no idea that they were engaged, in all honesty, or maybe I was just too ignorant to see the signs… Whatever the case, it’s why I’m here. She brought me out to the forest that night and turned me into that tree thing. And when you broke the spell, I wandered into this,” Wren finished and gestured down.
“When Floura found me, she wanted me to break the spell...” Pidge whispered and looked at Wren, whose eyes had filled with sparkling, blue tears. Wren smiled bittersweetly.
“She was trying to reconcile with me… And I killed her. My own flesh and blood, my sister . All because of my petty inability to move on,” Wren sobbed. “Now that I say it out loud, it all sounds so stupid. I just wish I could go back in time and fix everything.”
Something within Pidge’s mind clicked. That’s why it had to be a watch- time. She pulled herself towards Wren and offered her a piece of tissue. Wren gladly accepted. The two sat in silence under the stars, letting the cool breezes soothe their minds. Wren broke the silence with a surprisingly strange message for Pidge.
“Let me be very clear about this- It is all my fault. None of this can possibly fall on Floura, minus the part of her turning me into a watch.”
“Hold on, hold on- Did you just say what I think you said?”
“Well, more accurately, she turned me into a tree and then I...y’know wandered into this watch, but still.”
“Wren, say that again, but slowly,” Pidge sighed with exasperation. Wren’s eyes opened in wonder.
“I thought you knew! That’s what this is!” the fairy said defensively as she pointed to the metal piece in the compass. Of course! The numbers- they’re Roman numerals. It’s a sundial! “I just thought that because my regret wasn’t from love, it didn’t count!”
“It is from love. Why do you feel this regretful?”
“Because I hurt my sister… I betrayed her in the deepest way possible. But when she came back...”
“It’s because she loved you,” Pidge finished, picking up the watch and holding it close to her, squeezing it tightly. “Hey Wren?”
“Yeah?”
“Sleep well.”
“You too, Pidge.”
The next morning, Pidge returned to her shop, expecting a huge welcome back party. Instead she was greeted with her shop, same as always. Unswept wooden floors, the brooms in the corner, the runes she etched into the counters and shelves all around her- yep, she was home. Sitting right behind the small wooden bench she used as a check-out, was her brother, Matt, asleep. She set down her stuff by the bench and walked towards him. The floorboards creaked under her, startling him awake.
“Pidge! You scared the crap out of me! Mom and Dad taught you not to sneak up on people like- Wait a second. Pidge! You’re back!” Matt wrapped his arms around her tightly into a bear hug. She returned the gesture, even tighter. The two spent what felt like hours going over everything that had happened and catching up before the biggest question came up.
“You ready?” Matt asked. Pidge started to nod but stopped halfway through. She looked at Wren, holding up a finger to Matt, signaling him to wait.
“What are we gonna do about the last ingredient?”
“It’s been decided, Pidge.”
“What’s ‘decided’? Wren, what are you talking about?”
“Pidge, you need this potion. You made a promise. I can’t be selfish anymore! You’ve given everything for this journey. You deserve this payoff.”
“But Wren-”
“No, no buts. My sister lost her life for nothing, in vain, because of my selfish, reckless nature. So it is my honor to give up living in this stupid, tiny pocket watch to see her again,” Wren said. Pidge nodded, tears welling up in her eyes. She wiped them away and turned her attention back to Matt.
“Now I am.”
Matt called over Allura to watch. She appeared in the back of the shop only seconds later, sunglasses in hand, saying that strong potions often produced bright light. Pidge began to prepare her cauldron with all the basics that the recipe required- honey, rosewater, and a few drops of blood. She began to chant the enchantment and toss the ingredients in one by one. Tears of a widow, a love letter left unsent, a bouquet of dead pansies, the heart of an unrequited lover, and-
“The pocket watch of the regretful...” Pidge whispered, starting to cry again. “Wren, you don’t have to do this...”
“I know, Pidge. I want to.”
“But-”
“No buts, young one. You have so much ahead of you. This journey… it’s been everything to me. So if it ends like this, so be it,” Wren said. Her “physical form” hovered about the watch, reaching up to Pidge. She pulled the watch into her chest and squeezed it tightly and felt a small hug back. “I love you, Pidge, darling. Don’t forget about me, alright?”
“I love you too,” Pidge whispered shakily, a tear rolling down her cheek. “I won’t forget you, not ever... Goodbye, Wren.”
Pidge dropped the watch into the cauldron. It hissed and bubbled heavily, letting out flashes of brightly colored lights with every pop of a bubble. In one flash of light, Pidge swore she could see Wren and Floura reaching out, touching hands, becoming reunited once more. White noise filled the air, drowning out Pidge’s muffled tears over the loss of her friend. The cauldron shifted all sorts of strange hues cycling between colors like, deep magenta, to passionate red, to neon green, to bright yellow, before halting suddenly at the truest blue Pidge had ever seen. Allura nodded. A love potion.
She bottled the cooled potion, leaving it uncorked for the last bubbles to dissipate. Pidge sat in silence, watching as it calmed. The bells above the door chimed. Ezra Kane walked in. Pidge corked the potion and slid it across the counter towards him. The man shook his head in disbelief. “I didn’t think you could do it.”
“Yeah… well I did. So here,” Pidge replied stoically. Ezra scuttled to the counter and snatched the potion off the counter. He uncorked it, releasing a heavy aroma of roses and burning candles.
“What’s your price?” Ezra said as he whiffed the potion. “I wasn’t kidding about giving you anything.”
Pidge watched as the man continued to examine the potion. She thought pensively. She thought about her journey and how much stronger she had become. She thought about Terra and Luna, Kendall and his inability to deliver messages properly, Venus Payne and her flowers, Galen Ballard and his love for a demon, Wren and her sacrifice.
“You wouldn’t happen to have a watch, would you?”