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Chapter Text

But was it the true and only reason, or wat there something else that only her subconscious knew? She felt a pull in her heart, she was reluctant to admit. It was such a strange feeling that she wasn't sure whether or not to ignore it. 

With her mother Fiona, the reigning Supreme, trying to annihilate every girl who had potential to become the next Supreme, the headmistress of the coven had too much to deal with. She really shouldn't be letting the invisible hand guide her. And yet here she was, walking through the swamp with no destination. Oh she really regretted her life choices.

The place itself wasn't all that bad. What with the swamp water carrying cool air, it could be a more comfortable place than the concrete jungle of New Orleans. But it was her shoes that never stopped setting her teeth on edge. The heels, though they were considerably low, kept digging into the muddy ground with every step she took.

"This godforsaken place," the blonde woman mumbled to no one in particular. Her brows were knotted together in irritation, her shoes getting heavier by the second.

Just as she put her foot on a wet root of a tree, she wobbled. Her hand grabbed the air in a desperate attempt, but she was defeated by gravity. She remembered the dull pain and the hollow sound when her temple hit the tree. Was it the old tree or her skull that made the sound? It would never be known. The rest was consumed by darkness, like a computer going off to sleep.

When the alchemist opened her eyes, there was no longer the cerulean sky above her. Instead, moss spots in a wooden ceiling were looking back at her. The sunlight crept through the gaps everywhere, making her narrow her brown eyes.

"Fuck," Cordelia said in a whisper as her hand covered the injured part of her head. 

The pain was bearable. She'd been through worse. There was only a lump. No blood at all. Stitches wouldn't be necessary.

Getting up from the bed, the woman observed the room. It was no bigger than her bedroom at the academy, just a shack made of plain wood. Who had carried her here? There were shawls hanging from the walls, a large tin bowl filled with water, and a yellow cassette player neatly placed on the nightstand. Someone lived there, Cordelia could gather as much.

Suddenly there was a movement behind her, and a sound akin to a growl. A yelp jumped out of her throat when she was met with a boy –or something else that resembled a boy– lying on the other side of the bed.

The boy stared at the blonde woman blankly, his mouth slightly agape, his eyes so hollow Cordelia thought he might be blind. The two of them had a staring contest for a couple of seconds. The creature with blond curls moved his attention back to the ceiling, and Cordelia finally let her eyes wander over his body. 

Never in her magic-filled life had she seen such a creature. The stitches all over his body –they weren't nicely done to say the least– seemed still fresh. The more terrifying and bizarre was that there seemed to be no sign of pain or agony on the boy's face. It was blank. A marble statue could have a more colorful expression than he did.

The woman regretted her life choices for the second time that day. This situation reminded her of an episode of Criminal Minds. She'd never watched the show but she was sure they had an episode or three with mad scientists obsessed with some crazy stuff. Crazy stuff like creating a Frankenstein boy.

Her feeble heart almost stopped at the footsteps coming from outside. She grabbed a nearby flower vase, hoping it would be an effective weapon. Was the serial killer/Dr. Frankenstein coming back to his secret place? What if it was the police looking for her (and the poor Frankenstein boy)?

Cordelia scared the crap out of the wild blonde for certain. Misty had just come back from collecting mud for Kyle, only to be welcomed by the older woman, who clearly had the intention to attack her.

The swamp witch would have had the time to wonder how the other had felt the need to be armed. The neatly-dressed woman didn't look dangerous at all when she was unconscious. But the second her blue eyes caught the vase held in the woman's hands, the only thing Misty could do was to guard herself. She waved her hand before her face, and the flower vase flew out of Cordelia's grip, shattering into pieces against the wall. The candles around them lit by themselves at the same time.

"Oh, Lord, I didn't know I could do that," the Cajun girl murmured in amusement, her eyes big and wide.

The sense of danger had awakened the powers she hadn't even known of. 

But wait, Misty thought. Her power was exactly why she'd gotten herself killed in the first place. And now another person had witnessed the magic. For god's sake, she couldn't die for the second time. 

"Shit."

"I know you," the blonde woman said. "You are Misty Day. You were set on fire and left for dead."

At that, the wild blonde took a step back, more cautious than ever. The hair at the back of her head stood up, like a tail of a roused feline. If this person was a hitman that the village people had hired, Misty would have to fight. 

"How do you know 'bout me?"

"Oh, sorry." The older woman smiled. Her posture had softened. "I'm Cordelia Goode. I run an academy in town. It's--"

"You are the Miss Cordelia," the Cajun girl cut her off. She remembered the conversation with Zoe. The power of resurgence, the young brunette had told her.

There was slight surprise on the headmistress's face. Her demeanor had softened even more. The more she talked to the younger blonde, the safer she felt. Cordelia wondered if it was another power of the wild blonde. 

"…and how did you know about me?"

"I know Zoe. I'm her friend, I think… You see that boy over there?" Misty gestured at Kyle with her chin. "He's hers. I'm… waitin' for her to come back, I guess."

"Oh-- and I suppose you saved me, too?"

The alchemist was answered with a nonchalant shrug. "It's kinda hard ta ignore an unconscious woman lyin' on the ground. It's not the safest place on earth."

The response earned a delicate chuckle from the older woman. "Well, thank you. I'm so relieved you found me before alligators decided to have me for lunch."

Misty gave her a reserved smile. There was something about the woman that made the Cajun nervous. It could be her mannerism that Misty lacked, or it might be the light the older blonde radiated. Something she'd never felt or seen before. The wild blonde was suddenly aware of how messy her place was.

She must think I'm such a hobo, Misty thought.

The silence was broken by a groan from the half-dead boy in the bed. Both of the women observed him as he struggled to get up. The swamp witch let out a sigh, walking toward him.

"I should go back," Cordelia uttered to her back, slight hesitation woven into her voice. "The girls must be wondering where I am."

The older blonde regretted saying this immediately when the blue eyes looked back at her. Until now, Cordelia had never known sorrow could have such a violent color. It was eating the Cajun up. Had Cordelia had a special sight, she could have seen the girl's heart slowly, but surely, crumbling down. Even without such a sight, it pained the older witch enough.

Misty attempted to smile, only to end up with a stiff lopsided smile. She hoped the other woman couldn't see the quivering of her lips. "That's a shame. I was hopin' you'd stay for dinner."

"I will come back. I promise."

"That's what Zoe said. That's what everyone said." The younger blonde wiped her nose with the back of her hand. Tears threatened to fall down her cheek, and Kyle watched her with his curious eyes. She couldn't bring herself to look at Cordelia. "Nobody ever came back."

"Hey." Cordelia put her hand on her arm, gently making her turn around.

Misty wore misery and loneliness too well, Cordelia thought. It was like looking at herself in a mirror. 

"Take my hand."

The swamp witch raised her gaze, confused by the request. Her eyes travelled between Cordelia's face and the extended hand. Hesitance tugging at the corner of her heart, Misty took it with both of her hands.

It felt right, she didn't know why. The delicate hand of the headmistress radiated warmth between her dirt-covered hands. It felt like coming home. The wild blonde stared at their hands in awe, her attention shifting to the other woman's face.

Cordelia looked at her, hoping this was enough to make the younger girl understand. She knew words meant nothing to the wild blonde anymore. Having a mother like Fiona, the older blonde knew how it felt to have so many broken promises, painfully so.

"If no one ever came back for you, I'll be your first. I just need you to believe me. Can you do that?"

Misty nodded, overwhelmed by everything that was Cordelia. Her face flushed when those soft hands caressed hers.

On the spur of the moment, the alchemist brought their connected hands to her lips, planting a kiss on the back of the girl's hand. It was supposed to be a friendly gesture, a quite innocent one like when people kiss their pets. But it earned a suppressed gasp from the Cajun, which caused Cordelia's heart to skip a beat in return.

The older woman left the shack, letting go of Misty's hands. The blue eyes watched her figure until it disappeared among the trees.

Her heart was pounding, the skin where the woman had pressed her lips burned, she didn't know why. She walked to her collection of shawls and wrapped one around her shoulders. She twirled, to calm her heart, to forget about those brown eyes that could penetrate her soul.

How was it possible, after all these years of broken promises and disappointment, that she still wanted to believe the older woman? It would break her heart completely, if Cordelia would never come back again, if she turned out to be just the same as everyone else in Misty's life. She couldn't possibly risk that by getting her hopes up. 

But dear god, it was hard to get rid of those brown eyes from her head. She twirled. Her heart pounded even harder, as if trying to jump out of her ribcage.