Chapter Text
Grian never really believed in magic. Well, unless you counted the inner workings of redstone - which he didn't. In fact, like any other normal person, he never paid much mind to it. To him, it seemed like a foreign concept that would never intertwine with his life in any way whatsoever. Every day, he woke up, ate his breakfast, went to work (which was a part-time job the market district), went home, ate dinner, brushed his teeth, and went to sleep; all the while not thinking about magic once on most days.
On the days he did think about magic, it was usually because he strolled past some creepy skull market, or a shop of shrine candles. He didn't see those much though, since again, magic wasn't really thought about in his hometown.
However, as boring as the disinterest towards magic may make a person sound, Grian wasn't typically a 'boring' person. He was average, sure, but he had his aspirations, and when he had an objective set, he would persevere until he accomplished his task. He was a bubbly character to say the least. With a usually cheery and positive personality, he was always a pleasure to be around.
You see, Grian had just finished highschool, and now was within the time gap between 12th grade and college. He lived alone in a 6 story apartment - him being on the 4th floor - which was usually pretty irregular for people as young as him. His parents had moved out to the countryside, whilst he insisted on staying in his town. He said it was because he had a better chance of getting into decent colleges if he was a local, as well as having a better time at making and bonding with friends, which isn't entirely wrong. Obviously, however, working a part-time job in the stall market wasn't enough to cover his rent, so his parents usually sent him some money to help him out. After all, they wanted what was best for their son.
—
Slowly, Grian's senses came to reality. The first thing he could hear was the blaring of his alarm, a sound that pierced his ears like a stalactite. The repetitive beeping was something that was bound to quickly get on any sane person's nerves, but at least it woke him up.
Then came the feel. The texture of his duvet was soft, and he tightened his fist around the cover's hem as he shifted his body in irritancy, grabbing onto it with an almost violent force. He dragged the duvet over his shoulders a little, almost as if rebelling against his alarm was going to magically save him from the oncoming day.
Then came the ability to taste. He swallowed his own saliva in an attempt to hydrate his dry throat. It didn't really taste like much in all fairness, just... saliva? It also didn't really help, since his throat is still as dry as it was about 20 seconds ago.
The penultimate sense was his sight. Grian reluctantly dragged his eyes open, feeling almost as if every eyelash held its own double-quintal weight. Half of his sight was met with his own pillow, which was the same white as his duvet. The other half, however, met the gaze of his bed-side table, and the same blaring alarm he could hear for the past minute or so. The bright, red numbers coded into the little black box always reminded him of the timer you'd see on a microwave or an oven. Every time he saw these types of clocks, he thought, "Why that font?". He never bothered to google the answer to that question. It seemed like a worthless question anyways.
And then came the final sense... smell. There was nothing to smell. He had gotten used to the aroma of his room, so he didn't really smell anything. To any other person, honestly, Grian didn't know what they would smell either. He didn't spend much time in his room, so what smell would an empty room give off? Maybe the smell of his freshly cleaned sheets? Well, that doesn't matter, since nobody really went into his room anyways...aside from him, of course.
With a groan, The blonde pulled himself up into a sitting position, his back against the headboard of his bed. He ran his soft hands over his face, before turning his head to the side, and giving a deathly glare at his alarm. If Grian was one to act impulsively, the alarm would have been smashed to bits ages ago. However, not only would that have made the alarm a waste of money, but it would also create a waste of time, since he would have to pick at the carpet for about 25 minutes just to get the majority of little plastic pieces off the floor. It was a hassle he deemed best unavoided.
Almost like an aggravated sloth, Grian lifted his arm and brought his fist down onto the alarm button, ultimately silencing it for around 24 hours, before it inevitably went off again. He didn't fully smash the button, because again, he didn't want to waste $15 just to buy a new one, but he hit it hard enough to leave a sore sensation lingering for around 5 seconds.
The messy blonde shifted himself so his legs dangled off of his bed. He stretched his arms and gave a drowsy yawn, before rubbing his eyes and getting up. Grian didn't really wear pyjamas, but rather, just a plain white t-shirt and some dark grey sweatpants. If it was comfortable enough to get him to sleep, he didn't need to waste money on some actual pyjamas. Though he was a little sick of the plainness, he decided it didn't matter.
What did matter, however, is what he was going to wear today. It looked like a pretty usual day outside. The sun was shining, but it didn't look too hot – nor did it look too cold. He assumed it would be warm, but a little windy, which would cause him to feel the occasional chill. So then comes the original question, what was he going to wear? He had this weird, little, green outfit he used to wear all the time? Or....this pink shirt with a paint-covered apron on it..? He also had this blue shirt with the letter 'T' on the back...but he never used it. Why did he even get it anyways? He doesn't have anything to do with the letter T.
He also had this white shirt, which would probably go just fine with that red jumper he had somewhere? I mean, if it was cold, the jumper would keep him warm. And if it was hot, he could always take the jumper off and wear his shirt! Now all he had to do was freshen up, and then he could get into his outfit!
Grian spent about twenty minutes in the bathroom that morning.
Two minutes of brushing his teeth, and the other 18 for showering. This was a pretty normal time for him. I mean, not that he ever timed these sorts of things...well, he did once – because he was bored – but he counted in his head, and lost track several times, so it wasn't very accurate.
Grian's room stood still as he re-entered. The clothes he had picked out for the day were laying on his bed, and his white lace-up shoes were placed beneath them on the carpet floor. With a huff, he buttoned up his shirt, slipped on his jumper, and tied up his laces. (which took him about 3 tries.)
Well he had gotten himself out of bed, he got himself refreshed and dressed, now he just had to grab his keys and leave. After all, money wasn't going to earn itself, and Grian had a job to do – even if it was just for minimum wage.
Now, where did he put his keys again?
Grian patted down his dark grey jean pockets, feeling for a texture that could resemble one of simple door keys. However, to no avail, there were no keys. Grian sighed as he made his way out of his bedroom again, gently pulling on the door handle as the door itself smoothly moved open.
The main living area of his apartment was pretty simple, a seating area with a couch, chair, coffee table, and TV. It was mostly modern, well, as modern as you could get with a cheap, pro-college student budget. Next to that, he had his kitchen and dining area. There were no walls or doors separating the two areas, so legally speaking, they all counted as one room. Anyways, Grian's kitchen was again, as modern as he could get. Fortunately, he could afford basic things like an oven, dish washer, sink, microwave, yada yada. What he couldn't afford however, was a laundry machine, meaning he had to take a 'fun' trip to his laundrette at least once or twice a week.
He also had a dining table – but realistically, nobody wants to read a description of a dining table, and even if Grian tried, he probably wouldn't be able to do a good job at describing the thing himself.
The blonde stepped into his lounge, glancing around the room as he scanned for his keys. Where could he have left them?
He walked over to a chest of drawers and searched the surface with his pupils. He didn't have much, just a few pennies, a random button, and a framed image of younger him standing next to his ex-friend. Grian had no idea why he even kept that photo – the framed paper that displayed him in a highschool uniform, standing next to a brown haired, bunny hat wearing boy – never had any good connotations.
God he's happy he transferred highschools after a year or two.
Grian moved away from the drawers and turned his attention over to the kitchen. Maybe he left his keys on the kitchen counter? He beelined himself to the counters, instantly searching the tops as soon as he got close enough to get a good look. Microwave, hob, toaster, fryer, coffee machine, keys, kettle,
Wait– keys?
Grian backtracked to the keys, dumbfounded on how he almost missed them. Sure, it was common for him to move too quickly over details and miss certain things, but he was looking for his keys. Not his microwave, not his hob, not the toaster, nor the fryer, not even the kettle or the coffee machine! So why did he casually just pass his keys as if–
It didn't matter, if he didn't leave now, he'd be late.
Grian shook his head as he picked up the keys and made his way towards the door that led to his apartment entrance. It was a small room where he kept things like coats, umbrellas, bags, unused shoes and more. Despite the size, however, it was nicely decorated. Small plastic candles and a few intelligent books he never bothered to read littered the shelves, while he had a bunch of plastic, yet very pretty flowers rested on a small coffee table. They were a bunch of buttercups, though since they were fake, the stems were extended so the flowers could be placed into a vase.
Grian liked the buttercups, though they didn't have much of a meaning, they reminded him of friendship and loyalty, though he never managed to find a particular reason behind those connotations.
Grian didn't take any coats, it was too warm for that.
He figured he wouldn't need any bags, and if he did, he would just buy a plastic one from the market district.
It wasn't going to rain, so the umbrellas weren't needed, and considering he was already wearing shoes, the unused shoes would remain unused for the time being.
Well then, he was ready.
Grian slotted the keys into the door and turned them to the side, causing it to unlock with a click, and allowing him to exit the apartment room with ease.
Only 3 other people lived on the same floor as him, un-including the 4th room, which had a 'for sale' sign plastered on the door. The 4th floor wasn't the highest floor of the apartment, but it seemed to be the least attractive, considering that sign had been there for at least 3 months now.
Grian didn't mind the apartment building though, I mean, it was in decent condition, good enough to be accepted by whoever ran the health and safety checks. The blue, carpeted floors creaked as he stepped on them, and the plastered, beige walls ran across the whole hallway, accompanied by the white wall trims that raced alongside them. Sure, it was a boring setting, but it was home to Grian, and the sense of familiarity it gave him whenever he came home was comforting.
The blonde took a deep breath, but not out of stress, or boredom, or fear, but out of happiness. He breathed in his surroundings as a smile crept onto his face, and his eyes glimmered a look of hope, of purity.
Today was going to be a good day, he could feel it in his blood, his bones. Sure, he woke up to a blaring alarm, but that happens every morning. And sure, he forgot where he had put his keys, but every day has its ups and downs. And who knows, maybe today could be more than he had ever imagined.
I mean, it was incredibly unlikely, but once he was awake and properly functioning, nothing was going to slow down an optimistic Grian, that's for sure.
————
The morning street was busy, with bustling people around every turn. It was around 09:56 am at this point, so most people were probably on their way to A. buy breakfast, B. Take their children to school, C. Take themselves to school, or D. Set up their market for the day.
Grian looked down at his white trainers, his eyes wandering to the cobbled flooring, which was mostly grey, but had a tint of yellow. It almost reminded him of that one 'yellow brick road' from the Wizard of OZ. Grian used to love that movie, always grabbing his bedsheets and spinning around the living room, pretending to be whirling around a tornado. His parents probably had videos of it on his phone, and as cute as they probably were, Grian wouldn't dare to show anybody about it ever...
It honestly felt a little odd for him to admit, but he also liked the movie for its magical concepts. He was big on fairytales as a child, as most kids would be. He grew out of it over time though, as his mind matured and he slowly began to realise that all the fantasy that was displayed on TVs or in books were probably fictional and 100% fake. But when he was younger, he wanted to know how to do every magic trick in the book! The only thing that bothered him however, is whenever he learned the workings of all the tricks, he realised that they weren't really magic, but just... tricks.
Maybe that's what threw him off of magic.
Maybe that's what threw most kids off of magic?
Or maybe it was just him.
The inaudible mumbles of overlapping conversations swam into Grian's ears as he continued to walk down the bustling streets. Youthful kids ran past his feet, screaming and chasing each other as if the world was ending. Perhaps, in their imagination, it was. Grian sighed softly at this, laughing to himself. Oh how he missed being a little, gullible child. Now he has to worry about adult stuff...like taxes.
Ew, taxes.
He could pick up on a few snippets of conversation as he walked though. They didn't make much sense without context, but sometimes, that just made them all the funnier to Grian.
The smell of fresh bread rode with the wind as Grian watched the town bakery open their doors for the day. The boy who opened the door looked young, around 16? He had fluffy, brown hair with small, blonde streaks that sat under a stereotypical white chef's hat. He also had a green, button-up shirt covered by a white, baker's apron.
Grian never really visited the bakery, he had no reason to, but he had heard good things about it from his friends. Maybe he should visit it on the way back from work. It wouldn't hurt. Well, maybe it would hurt his wallet if he decided to actually buy anything, but he wasn't really into pastries or anything anyways.
Grian watched as people began setting up their market stalls, some having already finished. He watched as various things were placed in the little tent-like structures. Fruits, honey, discs; there was a stall for everything.
Grian only worked for one stall though, because it was the only stall who was looking for help when he first needed a job. It was nothing special, not at all. In fact, it was just a usual, boring, vegetable stall.
"Hey mate!"
Grian lifted his head, directing his attention towards the familiar voice.
"I got here a bit late; I'm gonna need help loading some of the vegetables into the stall if that's alright?"
Grian nodded, making his way over to the stall and hoisting up a dark green crate of freshly picked and washed carrots.
"Hey Phil." Grian smiled as he carried the crate over to the stall, visibly slowed down by the weight.
Phil was Grian's 'manager', aka, the owner of the vegetable stall he worked at. He seemed to be in his 30s or 40s, though Grian never asked for a specific age, in worry that it'd be a rude question. He had blonde hair that fell down to his shoulders and a green bucket hat with white stripes that he wore almost every day.
"It seemed we were both a little late today?" The elder chuckled. "What kept you, Grian? Honestly, I was worried you would get here before me!"
Grian laughed lightly in response, setting down the crate of carrots in the stall and beginning to arrange them so they didn't look like they had just been thrown around carelessly in a washing machine.
"It just took me a short while to find my keys, that's all."
"Ah yeah, I get you mate. Keys can be the worst sometimes."
"What about you?" Grian glanced up at Phil as he asked this, before looking back down at the carrots he was sorting.
"Traffic got tough this morning. Sundays are typically quite busy."
Grian nodded as he diverted his attention away from the carrots and now towards a crate of potatoes, which, unluckily for Grian, looked a lot heavier than the carrots.
"Hey, Grian?"
"Yeah?"
Phil looked towards Grian, who seemed to be struggling to lift up the potato crate. He walked over to Grian and placed his hands on the other side of the crate, lifting it up and letting the weight even out between the two.
"I appreciate your company and all, but are you ever going to get an actual job?"
Grian broke eye contact with Phil, glancing towards the stall. He stayed silent for a short while, unsure really on what to say.
"Sorry, didn't mean to bring a tough question on you, mate. It's just that this job won't support you forever, you know?"
"I know."
Grian nodded quietly as the pair set down the potato crate in the stall, next to the broccoli.
"I don't know." He contradicted himself, looking up at Phil. "I don't like to think about it. I'm only just out of highschool."
Phil walked over to Grian and wrapped his arm around the boy's shoulder with a comforting, yet serious smile.
"I know, mate. But you can't just avoid the inevitable. Life'll catch up to you one day, and if you let it catch up to you too quickly, you might end up like me, working in the town stalls." Phil chuckled, trying to lighten up the mood a little.
Grian chuckled lightly at this, looking down at the floor below him. His eyes traced the cracks of the cobbled concrete, before he looked back up to Phil.
"I'll figure it out." He nodded.
"Anyways," Phil stepped away from Grian, picking up another crate and setting it down with the others.
"We have a lot of work to do today. Sunday, Market day, isn't that right?"
"Yeah." Grian nodded with a smile. "It's always busy on Sundays."
The two of them continued to spend the next 5 minutes placing and perfecting the various vegetable crates.
When they had finished doing that, they began to take customers. It was quite a popular stand, considering that most people needed vegetables in their life. Well, unless you were a carnivore, but Grian had never met a carnivore before, and he doesn't think Phil had either.
————
It was now 11:55am.
The sun glistened over the town market, the muttering and chatter of those who passed through lingering in the air. To say it was hot was an understatement. Most people were wearing shorts and vests as if it were the middle of the summer.
All types of people stood at the variety of stands that the market had to offer, parents, teenagers, kids who had been given $5 to go buy useless stuff that they'll probably forget about the next day, loads of people!
Grian watched the interactions between said people. He couldn't hear them, he had no idea what they were talking about, he just knew that they were talking, and when you're working in a stall, watching people talk was one of the most entertaining things you could do. And that's saying a lot.
"Hey?"
Grian certainly jumped at the sound of another voice. He was too busy paying attention to his surroundings, he seemed to have forgotten to focus on what was right in front of his face.
"Oh! Sorry, yes, hi. Do you need anything?"
"How much are these carrots?"
"$3.50."
The man in front of him squinted his eyes at this.
"That much for one carrot?"
"Inflation's a sucker."
The man grunted at this, taking out $1.25
"I'll pay you $1.25 for half."
"Half... half of a carrot?"
"Yeah."
Grian stared blankly at the man. What was he... thinking?
"I don't think I can do that.."
"Why not?"
"What am I supposed to do with the other half of the carrot??"
"Sell it?"
"Nobody is going to want to buy half of a carrot."
"Then eat it?"
"What..?"
Grian now seemed completely bamboozled by the man.
"Grian, you okay mate??" Phil's voice called from the other side of the stall.
"Uhm. Maybe?"
Phil walked over, a little concerned by Grian's reply.
"He wants to buy half a carrot for $1.25" Grian whispered, leaning towards Phil.
Phil just turned to the man and stared blankly for a few seconds.
"Sorry mate, no can do."
"Why not?" The man replied again. His voice was quite gruff.
"That's just... not gonna happen, mate."
"You Tories are all the same." The man groaned in an irritated tone before walking away.
Grian and Phil shared a look of pure confusion for a second, before Grian finally spoke up in a hesitant and quiet tone.
"He does know that Tories are...British politics...right?"
Phil just sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose.
"At this point, Grian, I don't think I care."
"Yeah, no, fair enough." Grian agreed.
His eyes moved to his wrist, examining the numbers on his watch and where the arms aligned to. His shift ended at 3pm, meaning he still had around 3 hours left behind the stall. Grian sighed, looking back out to the streets in front of him. The sun was sweltering against his skin, and Grian silently begged for any sort of refreshing breeze to swipe past his face, weaving through his hair as it passed by. Even if it were only a second long sensation, Grian deemed it better than eternally melting beneath the merciless star that the world orbited around.
Grian glanced around, before sighing and deciding to take off his jumper. It wasn't doing him any good anyways, and only making a boring job harder. He wrapped the arms of said jumper around his waist as the air hit his arms, refreshing him only slightly. The white shirt he had worn underneath his jumper was short-sleeved, thank God, so even if he was sure the refreshing feeling of new air on his skin would go away after a few seconds, it was definitely worth it.
————
A few hours had passed of Grian serving other customers. Thankfully, none of them had been as inconvenient as the gruff man from earlier, which gave him at least a little bit more of a will to continue with his day. He leaned his elbow against one of the crates and rested his chin on his hand, sighing as he did the same thing he always did. He stood there, watching the townspeople converse before getting interrupted by the familiar British voice.
Though then again, was there really that much to be interrupted?
"Hey, Grian, it's almost 3. Do you wanna start packing up?"
"Oh, yeah, sure."
Thank God, Grian thought.
He lifted himself up from the crates and began to pick them up, hoisting them back over to the van Phil had brought them in. They were a lot less heavy than they were earlier, which greatly relieved Grian, because in horrifically hot weather like this, the last thing Grian would want to do was carry heavy crates underneath the wrath of the beating sun.
As he set down the final crate into the van, he placed his hands on his hips and stretched his back. Exhaling deeply, he allowed the the carbon dioxide from his lungs to rush into the scorching air, eventually to be turned back into oxygen.
"Thanks for your help today, mate."
Grian nodded towards Phil with a smile. "Of course, don't worry about it."
"Oh!" Phil then turned to Grian, before smiling and reaching into his pocket, passing something to the younger blonde. "Here's your pay for today."
"Thanks, Phil." Grian returned the smile. It was nice to remember that all of this boring work was paying off.
"I'll see you Tuesday?"
Grian tilted his head at this. Tuesday?
"Tuesday? What about Monday?"
"If the weather's going to be like this again tomorrow, I don't want to torture you with working in the stalls for another 5 hours." Phil chuckled.
"What? Oh no, no I'm fine! I'm sure it'd be fine!" Grian quickly replied, not necessarily wanting to leave Phil alone in the stalls tomorrow.
"Grian, It's okay. Really, I insist. You deserve a break anyways. You're young. Go hang out with your friends for once, yeah?"
Grian quickly crossed his arms at this, hiding a smile beneath his eyes.
"I'll have you know I always hang out with my friends!" He defended, not really offended with what Phil said to begin with.
"Yeah, I'm sure you do, Grian. Now have a good day off." The elder simply smiled down at the boy, patting Grian on the back lightly.
"Thanks Phil." Grian returned the smile with gratitude, looking up to the older blonde.
Grian admired Phil, he really did. He was so kind and caring, but also always made sure he got his work done. He was like a father to Grian, always there when he needed it, always willing to help, always by his side. Grian really couldn't have asked for a better manager.
He gave a small wave as he turned away from the stall, which was almost fully packed up. Grian didn't really know what he was going to do with the rest of his day. He could visit that bakery? (if it was still open). Or he could call up a friend? Or he could just go back to his apartment.
He ultimately decided to go back to his apartment and think about what to do from there.
Plus, he really needed to change his clothes. The ones he was wearing at the moment were all sweaty from working beneath the scorching sun.
————
The clouds drifted gently over the sky as they looked down on the people below them. Their pure white fluff formed shapes of many, creating various objects and animals that could be depicted if one squinted hard enough.
The sun shone through them, creating a blanket of light that covered the majority of the town. Rays of sun glinted against the cobblestoned pathways, and buildings stood tall, towering over those who walked past, though not necessarily in an intimidating sense.
Grian breathed in the fresh air that swarmed the streets as he took in the moment. Though the town was bustling with people of all kinds, the blonde felt a sort of serenity in it all. That atmosphere was something he relished in greatly, something he found oddly comforting.
Maybe it was the familiar feeling that caused him to enjoy wandering the town so much. Something about all the people gave him a sense of energy, hope, as if he were feeding off of the light that other people kept in their casual smiles a gleeful tones.
The world was perfect in the moment, and the pace of the movement around him kept him awake, aware. Every step he took, that others took. Whenever he was the one behind the stalls at his part-time job, the world seemed to move slowly, but when he was the one being up and active, it filled him with a great rush of dopamine.
Maybe that's why Grian was so startled by the sudden dash of blue that flew past his vision.
As strong gust of wind blew his blonde hair back into his face and swept the now disturbed breath out of his lungs, his world seemed to slow down for just a second. He stumbled back slightly, trying to comprehend whatever he had just seen.
It was a blue flash, fast, like a ribbon that sparkled in the sunlight. It had this aura to it... this feeling of magic.. a feeling Grian never really knew actually existed.
His eyes were quick to follow the trail, and he almost immediately noticed how he wasn't the only person to redirect his attention. Hundreds of eyes moved around the town, all in unison. Some displayed amazement, some displayed shock, some displayed a look of disappointment, disgust. Why?
That's when Grian focused on the main point of everybody's vision. A girl in ginger braids floated in the middle of the town, standing confidently on what seemed to be a broomstick?! Her hands were placed firmly on her own hips with beautiful, ocean blue sparkles that dazzled around her.
Her witches hat was pointy, but a little bent at the top. It was a deep blue, and had flowers the wrapped around the band of it, where the ribbon usually would be. She had a long, galaxy blue dress that sat atop a white, frilly blouse and black Mary-jane shoes which definitely played a slight part in her height. Grian also took note of the belt that wrapped around her waist, holding many intriguing potions, all varying in colour.
Her smile was bold, and her voice - melodic, as she spoke out towards the crowd.
"Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls!" She began.
Grian watched as she moved according to her words. She was quite animated with her gestures, as if she could never really keep still.
"I know that a lot of humans don't really acknowledge us, and those who do majoritively don't really like us, but I'm here to prove without a shadow of a doubt that we are very real and are just really, incredibly misunderstood!!"
Murmurs of the people filled the crowd as they all turned to one-another.
"Magic is really, truly an amazing and mystical concept, and I really think it should be adored by more than only those who can source it themselves! So please, if you would give me a chance, allow me to show you the wonders of our whimsical powers!"
The little particles moved with her actions, synching up like a practiced dance. When she hopped in her step, the particles followed. When her voice grew louder, the particles grew brighter. When she opened her hands to the crowd, little sparkles shimmered above her palms, as if they had sprung from her own skin.
Grian, for one, found this witch to be quite an interesting character. He was amazed by her existence, but part of his mind still had a shallow pool of doubt that wrapped around the ankles of his belief. Realistically, the possibility of magic just sounded a bit... fake. That's what most people grew to believe. Not to mention the Redstone brand's propaganda that advertised themselves to be, and I quote, 'The closest thing to magic any human being will get'.
Was this real though? Could it be?
Grian could feel the flutter of his inner child dance around his stomach. For someone who denied and claimed for many years to "not believe in magic", he was oddly excited.
He may have been the only one.
The murmuring crowd slowly turned into one of shouts and displease, with even a few people who began to throw whatever they could get their hands on towards to poor enchantress. This wouldn't have been so surprising to Grian if he had chosen to acknowledge a little bit more about the reality of humanity. Humans have tended to act like this towards unfamiliar concepts for as long as time. They acted like this when redstone began to become dangerously complex, they acted like this when unsteady political stances arose, so why assume they wouldn't act like this now? After all, it was in their nature.
The witch's broomstick rocked side to side as it attempted to avoid any pebbles and fruits that darted in its direction, the girl managing to control the movements with a surprising stability.
"People of the town, please! Seek the peace in your hearts for only a moment!"
Yet the witch's pleas fell upon ignorant ears.
Grian watched as the situation only escalated. He looked around the crowd, in which most people were displaying an attitude of displease. Those who didn't have as much of a hostile nature, only looked to be in the same boat as Grian: helpless, and having literally no idea what to do.
As the witch began to accept the fact that her pleas and affirmations we're practically futile, she decided that maybe retreat would be her best option. After all, she didn't want to get hurt by the merciless views of those before her. So as suddenly as she appeared, the enchantress departed in an array of deep blue sparkles and an orb of magical light that seemed to engulf her existence and leave nothing but the falling of dust-like particles that eventually rested idle on the ground.
The crowd turned into a mess of confused cats that just lost sight of their laser-pointer. Most people began to disperse and go back to their daily life, as if nothing had just happened, while others still murmured and protested against the intentions of the ginger witch.
Not Grian, though.
Out of the corner of his eye, the blonde noticed something that no other seemed to catch glimpse of. The same flash of blue that determined the witch's disappearance lit up in one of the alleyways between a row of perfectly lined buildings. In his mind, he wanted to contemplate his actions, and he somewhat wanted to hold back from going to investigate further, but before the neurons could connect in his brain, he found that his legs had began to carry him over to the alleyway with a sparkle of inquisitive curiosity that infected his mind like a powerless zombie. Though, a zombie is probably the last thing Grian would appreciate being compared to.
He felt the uneven texture of the cobbled brick beneath his fingers as he placed his hands on the corner of one of the buildings and reticently peered his head into the alleyway.
His eyes laid upon the ginger enchantress, who was sitting in the alleyway with her back against the wall and her knees to her chest. She seemed to be catching her breath as she inhaled and exhaled with a slow and steady manner. She looked like a crystal in the dark, her glamorous colours standing out against the somber grays of the narrow path. It was unique.
The witch didn't notice Grian when he fully entered the alleyway, and it took him clearing his throat as he crouched down next to her to finally grab her attention.
"Miss? Are you alright?" Grian began.
"Oh, Me? I mean, no, not really."
Grian frowned at this. He knew she wasn't okay, but it still hurt him to see someone admit they're upset. He didn't get an opportunity to question any further though, for as soon as he opened his mouth, the witch spoke again.
"I just don't understand why people will never accept magic. It was wrongfully given a bad name and it's just not fair! Why won't they just hear me out? There's really nothing to worry about!"
"I saw what happened. I'm sorry they reacted that way."
"I just don't get it! Why did everybody treat me like a monster?"
"Not everybody."
The witch didn't say anything as she looked up at Grian with an inquisitive look, a silent gesture to elaborate.
"I thought you were pretty cool."
"You did?"
"Yeah! You showed me that magic was real in the most awesome way possible! I think the crowd should've been a lot more respectful."
Grian smiled as he watched the way the ginger's eyes lit up. A small smile wobbled onto her face as she corrected how her hat sat on her head.
"You mean it?"
"Oh course! Why wouldn't I?"
The enchantress bounced back up upon hearing this, stabilizing the stance on her feet and reaching her hand out to Grian, after which she instantly pulled him up and into a hug the second he accepted the gesture.
"Thankyou!" She beamed, pulling away. "You don't understand how much this means to me, sir!"
"You can just call me Grian-"
"Of course! And you can call me Gem!"
Gem then began to ruffle around in a small bag attached to her belt, before pulling out a small leaflet-like piece of paper and holding it out to Grian in an optimistic fashion. Grian took the leaflet and scanned over the cover. It looked like a castle, maybe a fancy private-school or something of the sorts, with luscious backgrounds of forests and mountains to really set the scene.
"It's a leaflet for a witching school!" Gem exclaimed.
A what?
Grian was stunned by this. A witching school? But he wasn't a witch of sorts, so why would he need this?
"I know most humans are really hesitant on magic, but I think you could become a good witch, you know! You've got the optimism, that's for sure!"
"Wait- sorry- what?"
Had Grian just heard her right?
"But I'm not a witch, I have no witch descendants, I have no power?"
"Power doesn't run through blood, silly! Anybody can train to be a witch! It takes a strong will, sure, but you have that! I've only known you three minutes, and I can already see that!"
"Well I'm flattered, but-"
"Just think about it, kay? I don't have much more time, I really need to go, but please think about it!"
"What do you mean you don't have much time?? Miss- I mean, Gem-!"
But before he could finish his words, the enchantress picked up her broom and hopped on, flying away without a second thought to falter or hesitate. All that was left of her existence was the leaflet buried in the grip of Grian's right hand, and the small, golden charm that bounced onto the floor in front of Grian with a small clang.
Wait, what?
Grian crouched down and picked up the charm, which upon closer inspection, seemed to be a necklace with a heart-shaped locket. It wasn't Grian's business to look inside said locket, but Gem was already long gone by now. He knew he would have to return it to her, but now was probably not the time. With a sigh, he stuffed the necklace into his trouser pocket and began to exit the alleyway, continuing the original walk back to his apartment.
It was weird to Grian though. Gem hadn't been wearing a necklace at all throughout their small interaction, and she hadn't been wearing it when she was giving her little magic pep-talk to the towns crows either. It definitely hadn't appeared from nowhere though, so she must've had it in a pocket or something? But why not wear it around her neck? Oh well, it probably didn't mean anything anyways. He was probably overthinking it.