Chapter Text
For as long as she could remember, Chariot du Nord had yearned for nothing more than to bring others happiness.
Having been raised in a household that practiced the ways of magic, she was more than aware that it could help her achieve that feat. Day after day, she would beg her mother for a chance to fully experience it. But her pleas were met with hesitation each time. The Golden Age of Magic had came and went; taking most of the world’s recognition of magical power with it. Some still wielded it in everyday life, but they did so in secret. Because by all accounts, there was no way to predict how others would react.
Chariot wasn't the type to back down so easily, however.
In her eyes, if others didn’t believe that magic could create marvellous things, she’d take it upon herself to show them its true potential. And as the months passed by, her mother's stern façade was slowly starting to crack.
She wondered if she'd ever be given a chance back then. For the slightest moment, she thought her goals were unachievable, that she could never be a great witch.
Nonetheless, on her sixth birthday, Chariot found herself being gifted a magic wand of her own. She almost couldn’t believe it; the whole time, her mother had said nothing. But here she was, with the key to her dreams right in front of her.
She wasn’t merely excited — no, that would be an understatement. She was over the moon!
It wasn’t long before she got eager to try it out, and her mother had taken her to a wide clearing so she could practice away from the public eye. There she would stand, summoning mesmerising stars and golden butterflies with her every move. They zipped by like comets, and she reached out to catch them, giggling in delight.
Chariot always knew magic was a powerful thing. But now, for the first time in her life, she was the one in control! There was no doubt that she could use it to impress others someday. And her journey would begin at the famed Luna Nova Academy...
Or so she thought.
Ten years had passed since the moment she received her first wand.
Ever since then, Chariot longed to advance her magical ability. And now, at long last, she’d been accepted to attend Luna Nova. Founded by the legendary Nine Olde Witches themselves, it was everything she had dreamed of since she was a little girl, and more.
The only problem she’d faced so far? Herself.
For no matter how hard she tried, or what spells she attempted, she always found herself struggling to execute them.
It had all started on a mundane day for her. Chariot was sitting in her Biology class, listening to her professor drone on and on about the systems of various organisms. That had been simple enough. But then she was made aware of the spells required to manipulate their growth. At that notion, something in her snapped. Chariot tried to concern herself with the task at hand, but her mind couldn’t help but wander in exhilaration.
She’d set her heart on this since she was young, and now she’d actually be able to do it!
Lulled into a daydream, she envisioned herself in front of a cheering audience. With a wave of her wand, plants and vines rose at her whim, rose petals blooming and raining over her head. In her mind's eye, the crowd marvelled at her display, going absolutely wild when—
“Miss du Nord?”
Her heart pounded in her chest. Chariot adjusted to her surroundings, realising she was still in the classroom. Another student was returning to her seat, a newly-bloomed potted plant in her arms. She could have sworn she heard someone snicker — though it was hard to discern who did it, when her professor's glare looked like it could burn right through her.
Chariot didn't want to test that theory.
“I was just explaining how the intonations of these spells ensure their effects, but it’s clear you're aware enough of them to ignore me.”
Her professor’s face twisted into a sneer, barely disguising her outrage.
“Why don’t you demonstrate for the class, while we’re at it?”
Chariot did her best to evaluate the situation, but any way she looked at it, there was no escape. If she refused to attempt the spell, she’d be humiliated in front of her entire class. If she accepted her professor’s demands, then she’d have to recite it from memory.
The latter was obviously the lesser of two evils. But did she really have the knowledge to pull it off?
”Well…well, that’s no problem at all, Professor!”
Chariot nodded with the brightest smile on her face, approaching the front desk. She raised her wand, vaguely recalling what she’d been taught—
—and all of two seconds went by before the whole room was consumed by vines and leaves.
From that moment (once all the foliage was removed from the classroom), Chariot promised herself that she would perfect biology-altering spells. But reading about them was completely different to saying them aloud. And with nobody willing to have her magic tested on them after the incident, the young witch resorted to trying again with the people in town.
For a brief period, she thought it was impossible to get someone’s attention. Chariot aspired to become a stage performer ever since she got her first wand, but how was she meant to do that if nobody batted an eye?
Nonetheless, one bystander seemed to not mind her presence, and she noted the small dog he had on a leash. Perfect.
This is it — now or never.
"Excuse me, sir? I noticed your dog just now, and I had to say something!" She lowered her gaze to its level, her words completely frank. "It's adorable! It'll definitely grow up healthy...but what if there’s no need to wait until it does?"
The man smiled, though it faded a little upon registering her words. Chariot steeled herself and turned to face the people around them. There was no turning back — not if she could help it. She brandished her wand, before firing a column of light into the sky, akin to a signal.
The town square’s usual chatter ceased at once, everyone transfixed by the blast she had emitted, before their eyes drifted to her. Some were intrigued. Some were horrified, and some skeptical of her — yet she only grinned wider.
“What if I showed you all one of the greatest magic tricks you’ll ever see?”
Chariot gripped her wand once more, her voice reaching every corner of the square. With all the flair of a performer-in-the-making, she faced the now-bewildered man. Judging by the paleness of his face, it was clear that he had no idea what he was truly getting himself into.
"There’s only one way to find out, isn't there? Metamorphie...Facette!”
Though a few members of the crowd rolled their eyes at her claims, any disdain left their faces when bursts of energy appeared from her wand. The once-bustling area turned deathly quiet as the man’s dog was enveloped in light, and gasps filled the air. All the while, Chariot kept her eyes closed in anticipation.
Maybe...maybe this time she had gotten it right!
Until shrieks of horror pierced the air, and her eyes flew open to be met with the sight of the puppy. Its legs were freakishly tall, and it loomed over the majority of the town's buildings.
That poor man, who had been subjected to her magic, was clutching its leash for dear life. He looked as though he’d faint any minute.
In her stupor, Chariot nearly forgot she was the one who could amend the situation, and she desperately reached into her school bag. She grasped around, but her eyes occasionally shifted to the dog above her. Heaven forbid that thing started walking, because if the townspeople weren't shaken enough, they absolutely would be then.
At last, she pulled out a spellbook she’d borrowed from Luna Nova’s library. Flipping through the pages, she scanned them for any trace of the spell she just cast. She missed entire paragraphs in her distress — until she finally found it.
Metamorphie Faciesse, it read.
Of all things, she had gotten the last word wrong.
Luna Nova Academy had seen countless years since the Nine Olde Witches established it, and held boundless potential within its walls. As it started to set, the sun draped golden light upon its architecture, and the atmosphere would enamour all who caught its eye.
Chariot would have been taken aback at the precious sight — if she wasn't so fixated on her failures.
"Why…why does this have to be so unfair?"
She buried her face in her hands, perched on one of the Academy’s benches. Everything about her surroundings portrayed true peace. The fluttering of the leaves, the sturdy grace of the campus, the few witches traversing its grounds.
Chariot couldn’t find it within herself to do the same.
She’d managed to reverse the effects of her transformation spell, though she couldn’t do the same for the townspeople’s perception of her. The image of their faces twisted in fright — directed at her or the power she held — was still fresh in her mind, and she let out shaky breaths. Throughout her time at the Academy, staff and students alike said that she had a good heart. What would they think of her now?
In the span of a single day, she’d ruined her first chance to show people the good magic could do. Not only that, but she tarnished the reputation of anyone with Luna Nova’s uniform. There was no doubt people would recognise it around town, and fear witches to a higher degree.
With all she’d done, did she even deserve to be here? It was pathetic.
She had pursued this for most of her life. She had dreamed of it — but was that truly enough, compared to the real world? Had she been doing this on a whim; some childlike piece of hope? Maybe she was more out of her depth than she realised. This could be too much for her.
Maybe she should have given up from the start—
A soft touch brought her back to reality; someone's hand was on her head. Chariot sat up at once, wiping her tears away. The last thing she wanted was to look like a fool in front of one of her professors.
But she wasn’t met with the uniform of Luna Nova’s staff, nor any half-hearted pity.
Instead, a fellow witch stood to her left, her eyes sharp and teal. Her ruffled hair was pure lavender, and Chariot matched the face to the name; Croix Meridies.
The only witch in Luna Nova’s history who resorted to technology to harness magic. A brilliant mind, admired by most within her year — but she was more than that to Chariot. Croix was her anchor. The only person who truly understood her struggle.
For they both yearned to do something extraordinary.
"Croix?"
Her guilt made way for shock, instinct taking hold. She glanced away, trying to make it seem like she hadn’t been bothered in the first place.
"I wasn't — what are you doing here?"
"I’ve been looking for you all day after class ended.”
Croix eyed her nervously; she’d never been the most outgoing person. Yet the look on her face showed signs of underlying concern.
"You left shortly, after that...incident. You never told anyone where you went. That’s not like you."
Chariot couldn’t stop her cheeks from turning as scarlet as her hair. Her hand went to her forehead as she spoke, absolutely devoid of the confidence she possessed just hours ago.
“I...I was just in town. I wanted to test things out with some of the people there. But…”
Her silence was enough to imply what happened, and Croix took it upon herself to lift her spirits. She joined Chariot on the bench, and she opened her mouth to object — but Croix was one step ahead.
She always was.
"About what happened earlier: it doesn’t matter how early specifically…” Croix set a hand on her shoulder. “You don't need to listen to others. You shouldn't give up, Chariot, not when you’re still learning. Everyone is."
"I know, okay? I know that!"
Her outburst made Croix jump, but she didn’t leave.
"I want to do the right thing, but nothing ever works! We both want this—" She shook her head. “We both think the world needs changing. But what if…what if I’m not the right person to do it?”
"Don’t say that. You're passionate about what you do.” Croix insisted. “You never burn yourself out. I know you’ll be a great witch, I just do.”
Chariot slowly met her eyes. She nodded, unwavering.
"Listen to me, okay? You can do this. When you go out there, give them something they’ve never seen before — I’ll be right there with you.”
"But…”
"No room for doubts. I’ve got faith in you, but you still have to believe in yourself."
Her words hit Chariot like a freight train, stunning her into silence. It was a gut feeling. Yet somehow…she knew that Croix was right.
"That faith...that's what magic is."
Something resonated within her at those words, and she was overwhelmed with newfound energy. All she wanted…was to be better. Granted, she believed that she would become a great witch — but what use did that have if she didn't fully trust herself to get that far?
“You're right.” She managed to find her voice again.
Chariot knew what she had to do now. All she needed...was a believing heart.
Her success wasn't instantaneous, and she knew it.
Chariot was more than aware that it would take work to achieve her dreams. But she wouldn’t let failure hold her back. She would hone her skills, practicing magic for the benefit of others. All she had to do was believe in her ability, believe in herself.
And Croix believed in her.
Each passing day, the witch remained true to her word. She'd spend several hours with Chariot while she perfected her spells, giving advice on occasion. Knowing someone trusted her, no matter what, motivated her to push herself further.
So when the time came, Chariot only figured that she could return the favour.
She did her best to stand with Croix as the months went by, endeavouring to support her just as much as she had back then. Croix had become highly absorbed in her research as of late. Night after night, she would study records of the Nine Olde Witches' exploits, and legends of the unknown. Though for what, Chariot didn’t know.
Luckily, Croix seemed to gradually loosen up, nearing the revelation of her work over a couple of weeks. And when she finally shared the information that she’d been so fixated on, Chariot couldn't deny it. It was the key to fulfilling what they wanted their whole lives.
Throughout the entries describing the history of the Nine Olde Witches, there were several hints towards something they’d kept hidden.
Each source had been cryptic about it, though for understandable reasons — it held immense power. After weeks and weeks of trying to decipher clues that they left behind, Croix managed to pinpoint its location.
The Forest of Arcturus.
This artifact, which the Nine Olde Witches had given a high amount of effort to protect, was capable of altering the world forever - for better or for worse.
They called it the Grand Triskelion, and claimed that it could be unlocked once again.
Just as she trusted in her own ability, Chariot trusted in Croix. She was resourceful, and more than capable of achieving anything if she set her mind to it. There was no force in this world that could stop her from venturing to find that artifact.
Unfortunately — there was also no stopping Chariot’s inner doubt from arising. All sorts of abominations lurked in the Forest of Arcturus. Intimidating, hostile creatures which hid amongst the withering trees. Ancient legends foretold that any young witch who entered could never escape, and Chariot couldn't bear to think of Croix suffering that fate.
Initially, she had done her best to convince her — and perhaps herself — not to set out into the unknown. But they still harboured a deep desire to change the world's perception of magic, and the Grand Triskelion could appease it in the blink of an eye.
All this time, Croix had aided her with her studies. She had believed in her. Despite everything that could go awry if they visited that place, Chariot wanted to do the same. This was the biggest opportunity of their lives!
This was the culmination of everything they had pursued — and they couldn't let it go to waste.
That was how they found themselves in the Forest of Arcturus, carefully traversing the overgrown plants. The last thing either of them wanted was to alert any monsters that lived among its depths.
Chariot tried her hardest to hide the fact that she was on edge; as though anything buried in the shadows could smell fear. Part of her thought she was irrational — she knew a variety of offensive spells, and so did Croix.
But her blood turned to ice, and the air chilled her soul; something was here with them.
She wasn't clear on what it was, but they were being watched.
Slowly, she lifted her head to stare at the near-empty sky and the moon met her gaze. Its pale light reigned above the malignant chaos of the Forest of Arcturus, and Chariot was put in a trance the moment she laid eyes on it. Only a few seconds were shared between them, but it was the most tranquillity she’d ever felt since they’d stepped in there.
Whatever had been following them, the monstrosities it held...they were nothing under the moon's watchful eye. Nothing could harm them as long as it was there, warding off the dark.
"Chariot?"
Her head snapped back to Croix's level. She noticed that they’d reached a grand tower in the middle of the brambles, with a single embellished door. Croix looked back at her expectantly, and she knew. This was what they were looking for.
"This is the place," Croix breathed. "This is what the world needs...I just have to prove that I'm ready."
Chariot nodded, standing by her side. Her tenacity to brighten the lives of others returned. This forest was twisted, its wild thorns uncontrollable; but just for a moment, there was hope.
There was hope, for the world of magic.
"I swear to the Nine Olde Witches, that I am capable of opening the Grand Triskelion!" yelled Croix into the unknown. "I vow to use it to revolutionise our world as we know it, and become the greatest witch of all time!"
In that moment, Chariot was struck with excitement as well, and she couldn't stop herself from declaring her own dream. That is, if the Nine Olde Witches were even listening at that very moment.
"I swear to them, too!"
Chariot threw her arms up to the sky.
“I want to entertain the world, bring joy to it! I've always wished to take people's sadness away, and show them that they can do anything if they just believe!"
As soon as those words left her, both witches were drawn to the moon looming above.
Its light had put Chariot at ease beforehand, but now it filled them both with dread as it grew more intense. Seven stars joined it in the sky's void, and before they could open their mouths to ask what was happening, they began to descend.
When they fell in front of them, Croix had to shield her eyes against the blinding light. Her friend, however, was a different case. Though she needed to squint to see them properly, Chariot was awestruck.
The stars were merging with one another, forming a long, angular shape…
Until she felt something solid in her hands. A delicate golden staff, with lines and grooves leading to seven gemstones embedded in its form.
Chariot couldn't believe her eyes, and she immediately faced Croix to ask if this was real. The sight she found was jarring. Croix's face had turned pale in abject horror.
The look in her eyes was one that a complete stranger would earn, not one of her dearest friends. Her voice was a shaky whisper.
"I...I can't believe it..."
"What?"
The words almost escaped Chariot's range of hearing. But there was no time to speak, as a storm of leaves appeared behind her. Chariot spun around, holding the staff close to her chest, and the form of a woman manifested itself out of thin air.
She appeared ethereal, her skin quite literally glowing. It was clear that she wasn't of the mortal world at all. Her long hair was teal and cascaded down her back, and she wore a dress adorned with plants and vines. So full of life, compared to the rotting thorns of the forest.
Antlers protruded from the top of her head. What they were looking at, was one of the Nine Olde Witches themselves; Woodward.
"After all these years…the Wand of the Seven Stars has chosen a new wielder."
She met their surprise with indifference. Her eyes, a brilliant emerald, drifted up towards the moon.
"And it seems a new Guardian will eventually find her path..."
"A new wielder?" Croix cut through the silence. “You mean her?!"
Chariot nearly jumped out of her skin. She'd never heard her speak like that before — with such disbelief.
"That wand...it chose her, instead of me?"
If Woodward had heeded her words at all, she didn't show it. Instead, she shifted her focus purely on Chariot; words of wisdom echoing throughout the forest.
"Chariot, this task lies only to you. You must use this wand, the Claiomh Solais, to revive the Seven Words of Arcturus."
Chariot exchanged glances with the witch across from her, still processing what the staff in her hands meant to the universe. Croix didn't seem to grasp the situation, either. She merely lifted a hand towards it in incredulity.
"Then, and only then, may you be able to unlock the Grand Triskelion."
"There's no way.”
Croix's hand was inching closer to the Claiomh Solais by the minute, and Chariot's heart went out to her, not knowing what it could possibly feel like. She had worked so hard, for so long, and now she was facing her worst nightmare.
Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes, and her hand began to close around its form.
"It’s not…this can't be—"
The moment her fingers made contact with the staff, it exploded. Bursts of electricity emitted from its gemstones, coursing through Croix’s body and tearing a scream from her lungs beyond anything Chariot thought possible.
Before she knew it, she was crying out too— "Croix!"
Her throat was raw. Chariot didn’t dare to let go of the wand, but its weight upon her hands increased tenfold as her friend pulled herself to her feet.
Something changed in her demeanour. For a split-second, Croix leveled her with a glare that sent chills down her spine. And though the moon watched silently, once again she felt a different presence among them.
A presence amplified by the wand within her hands.
"In order for you to fully change this world, Chariot…" Woodward continued, unperturbed. "You must understand that spirits dwell within it. Those who harbour the strongest of beliefs can see them, though they fade with time. And spiritual witches communicate with them as they wish."
The moon shone even brighter in expectancy.
"Mark my words; when the time comes, and the Grand Triskelion is opened, you will become a Guardian."
Chariot and Croix both frowned at the name; what were Guardians? Surely, if the world would be changed for the better after they unlocked the Grand Triskelion, there’d be nothing else to protect it from?
Woodward didn't explain — somehow they knew she wouldn't, whether she could read minds or not. And whatever Guardians were, they didn't matter. All Chariot needed was to focus on finding the Grand Triskelion.
Didn't she?
"Before we part for now, I'll gift you with the ability to fully understand the world of spirits…"
"Wait, wait, hold on a minute!"
Yet again, Croix's objection could be heard clearly around the forest. Woodward’s mask broke; beginning to focus her scrutiny on her. Grateful this time that she would actually listen, Croix spoke slowly and carefully.
"I want to help Chariot to the very end…as she unlocks the Words of Arcturus."
"What?"
Chariot's eyes went wide, and she took a step closer towards Croix. She glanced between her and the spirit of Woodward before them.
"No—no, it shouldn't be me! You're much smarter than I am! You're more capable, this is what you wanted!"
"We both know that wand isn't meant for me, Chariot." Croix smiled, though it didn't reach her eyes. "It wouldn't have shocked me otherwise; Woodward said that it chose you. It wouldn't do that without reason.'
Chariot sighed. Of course she was right — but it didn't feel right, considering their plans beyond Luna Nova. Croix held ambition, actively vying for the chance to make the world a better place through her tech. And her? She wanted to be a stage magician. She’d use the equivalent of card tricks in the magic world to impress a crowd.
"Nonetheless, the wand chose her…but she still might struggle to discover the Words."
Croix resumed her request, contemplating her next offer.
"If she needs to understand spirits to unlock the Grand Triskelion — then I won't be able to help her to the best of my ability, if I can't do so as well."
Woodward’s eyes narrowed, before she gazed up at the moon, as though to convey a message. Chariot and Croix couldn't tell what type of response it gave. Though the spirit of the Olde Witch was soon satisfied, and she lowered her gaze to them.
"Very well," she said, a smile gracing her features for the first time in millennia. "I'll allow you the First Word of Arcturus, in order for you to leave this forest. Remember it carefully. Noctu Orfei Aude Fraetor."
In the next few seconds, both Woodward and the moon seemed to bathe everything in their light. Chariot and Croix shut their eyes, a peculiar sensation running through their heads. It was akin to having something in their subconscious split open, tampered with; before it faded away.
They opened their eyes, sensing that nothing had changed for them physically.
Dumbfounded, they glanced up at where Woodward had been. But they were only met with the sight of falling leaves before she disappeared. Clouds had begun to hide the moon from view, and Chariot turned to ask Croix if she was truly okay with this. With her wielding the Claiomh Solais.
However, she merely shook her head.
"I'm...I'm okay, Chariot. No need to ask."
Croix raised her hand towards the wand, before abruptly stopping herself, remembering what would happen. "Now, why don't you test out the First Word?"
"Alright," Chariot stared down at the wand before her, speaking the words softly. "Noctu Orfei Aude Fraetor."
In response to her words, the first gemstone on the Claiomh Solais began to glow, and before she knew it the wand unravelled in her hands. Its form spun, the golden material shifting itself, until it had changed into a slender bow. Chariot and Croix stared at it in amazement. Though they soon became befuddled, upon realising there were no physical arrows for her to use.
How was this meant to help them escape the Forest of Arcturus? Would they fight their way out?
Slowly, Chariot pointed the bow at the sky and raised her hand. A single arrow of light formed at her fingertips. She marvelled at how it didn't scorch her hands despite being pure radiance, before releasing her first 'Shiny Arc' into the sky.
The arrow soared through the air, propelling itself further and further to the stars, until it exploded. In its place was a Leyline portal to what they could only assume was Luna Nova Academy.
"It's amazing just seeing it in person..."
Croix took the sight in with astonishment, and without further ado, she mounted herself upon her broom — propelling herself into the night.
"Come on, Chariot. Let's go."
"I'm right behind you!"
Chariot was quick to follow suit, getting on her own broom and swiftly making her way beside her as they reached the portal. While Croix entered its depths without hesitation, she finally got the urge to look down at the Forest of Arcturus. There was a vast expanse of trees and thorns, eventually giving way to a small clearing. The tower where they had met Woodward's spirit. But it reminded her of the sensation of being watched — and it seemed her suspicions were true.
For another person remained below the tower, right where she and Croix had just stood.
He appeared small from where she was stationed in the air, but Chariot noted that he wore dark robes and his hair was a similar colour. As though he sensed her presence, the figure turned around, revealing that his skin was pale grey. Gold eyes pierced through the darkness, staring precisely at her — and Chariot repressed a shiver.
She had no idea who that man was or what his intentions were, but she wished to get out of the area as fast as possible.