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Chapter Text

Lovers, Judgement, The Devil

Three intricately illustrated tarot cards lay on the wooden flooring of the cream-coloured room located within the mansion that housed Miss Robicheux's Academy for Exceptional Young Ladies, known as a place for witches, a safe haven from judgement, danger and persecution.

Brianna Harton sat just before the cards, curiosity peaked. This was certainly interesting. Tarot was one of her hobbies, she read for friends, for random strangers who drew her attention and for situations that have, and would unfold - in whatever weird universe way it transpired.

Romance on the horizon, a temptation of hearts? Perhaps a calling of the heart for oneself, inner reflection for self love. Brianna could definitely get on board with that, a preferred presence of solitude and desire for independence.

Then came the all powerful force of possible new beginnings or a resurrection. One could say that witches were accustomed to both when the need would arise.

But the last, the shadow side of life, the contrast to the angel card and the precipice between good and evil. Such a fine line, even finer with the allure of quick lust, powerful magic or even simple desperation. One moment could define a lifetime. Into tragedy or into hope. These cards guide, but life will tell.

At nineteen years old, the brunette witnessed her own share of the ways of "good" and "evil". With magic, some found themselves intertwined with the idea of this. She herself had delved into the intricate, deep grimoires hidden away for safety yet kept for education within the academy's library, in addition with her own personal collection.

It had all started with a simple fire spell, just some light and warm to get her through the next hours of reading. The spark lit quietly, a shade of emerald to saffron, eventually vermillion. A warming air filled the area, shades of pink tinging the witch's face. A metaphorical blanket for the coolness of the winter air drifting in from the damaged windows.

Vermillion flashes, back to saffron, to emerald, to nothing. Colourless flame dancing for mere seconds, next an unexpected explosion, sharp sparks flew from the fireplaces to the surrounding area, zipping from the lounge to Brianna, a lightning shock vibrating from her toes to top of her head.

Brianna tossed the book she was in the midst of reading, helplessly fumbling for anything to put out the sparks and save the room. Nothing in sight, and no spell she uttered seemed to quell the chaos she had created.

Her parents had found her outside after the firefighters had been called. Minor burns. Major shame. Magic is one of the things she found herself confident within, relying upon it for a lot of situations. It hurts to have it backfire, literally, on her. Landing her in trouble, with both her parents and the local police.

This incident had led her to the eerily spotless mansion within New Orleans, filled with witches, a few with their own stories that could be mirrored with her own. Accidents which led to new discoveries. For those lucky few who were found and not sent away to other places by their family.

Brianna was surprised that the police let her off easier than they should've - arson is what they would have called it in other circumstances. Her parents Judith and Aisling managed to convince them, accompanied by some woman who then in turn let Brianna know of her own future at the academy. Better an academy for the magically inclined than a place where she wouldn't be able to do any.

The first days at the academy, Brianna didn't talk to any others, especially to the ones who had been there for a time. It was intimidating. The whole picture, the collective magic and the expectations of coming together as witches. Brianna had just expected to be by herself in her own life, finding and exploring the realm of magic independently rather than with friends.

A few weeks in, she was flicking through the pages of an old story, about a witch who had gathered a group of deceased frogs, brought them back to their greenhouse and resurrected them all, when the first offer of friendship made itself known.

A knock on the wall next to the open door, a cautious look upon the person's face. "Harton, isn't it?"

Brianna head turned to the voice, the story falling from her mind. "Uh, yes? Is there something I need to do?"

The other witch chuckled, stepping into the room. "I'm Queenie, we've been in a couple of classes together. I thought you might want to come to the meeting, Cordelia wanted to show you and the rest of the new girls something."

"Oh." Brianna joined the girl by the door, her lips curling up faintly. "Consider me intrigued. I'll leave the frog story for another day then." She chuckled, flipping the book to showcase the cover, receiving an acknowledgment - required reading for all witches apparently. "What's the topic for tonight?"

"Metamorphosis."

The spacious, ever clean, main room was where they ended up, circular dark wood tables adjusted around the room with ominous bowls upon them, each witch standing behind their own, awaiting instruction.

"Good evening. Tonight we are discussing the art of metamorphosis, how we can adapt and discover through it and as we will see demonstrated by our very own Supreme" Zoe, a gentle but capable witch , whom had been another one, along with Queenie, that had attended the academy for a while, who introduced the topic.

Zoe softly smiled, glancing to her right where the Supreme, golden blonde hair shining, smile brighter than the heavens, Cordelia Goode stood. At her own table was a small basin of water, a lone tadpole gliding around the surface.

"Good evening, girls. Follow my lead and use your intuition."

Cordelia closed her eyes, hands lifting above the basin, muttering incantations.

A glow of light shimmered from her hands, spinning to the basin. The water rippled as the tadpole began to swim in a circle, pace increasing with each word spoken. Then the miniature creature widened, a show of skin growing over the gills, a droop from the underneath of its face forming, tiny legs stretching out from where there had previously been none.

The audience of witches watched the basin closely, noticing each new form of transformation.

Brianna held back her chuckle. She wasn't quite sure what the correlation between witches and frogs, but apparently there is one.

Her own bowl stood in front of her, sealed with a lid, concealing the inhabitants within.

Cordelia flicked her eyes up, gliding along the witches. "Now it is your turn, relax and focus on how it transforms, one by one before coming together, gentle not quickly."

Brianna lifted the lid, squinting down, to find that her object to focus on was a dead rodent.

"Every one has something different, the object is to change it, the received part does not have any meaning for any individual." Zoe clarified, strange looks sent her and Cordelia's way when a few girls lifted their own bowls. Rodents, bugs and different forms of dust or powder.

"How are we meant to change dust, does it not actually fit into something other that metamorphosis? This seems silly. And I didn't sign up for silly." Judith, a confident girl, who had already braved talking back to any of the original girls on her very first day.

Queenie chuckled from the side of the room. "You're a witch. You were signed up for silly since birth. Just focus on your dust before it focuses on you."

Brianna side-eyed Queenie, holding her rat up with a shrug, a small smirk was all she got before the older witch went to help another, their colony of ants escaping from the small bowl.

Her mothers certainly wouldn't have expected her to be sitting at a table with a rat on it, with the expectation to transfigure it into something else - or maybe they would, it sounds very witchy and strange. They were always supportive yet still wary, which wasn't unwise since the incident that mainly landed her into the academy

Maybe she should take a picture and send it to them, with a message 'Having fun at witch college, find any dead animals at any point, send them my way and I'll magic them'.

Or maybe not. It was quite disgusting to even just see the poor thing in front of her.

Sparks erupted from the other tables, indicating the experiments of magic that were taking place. Several cockroaches had glowed a shade of maroon for two minutes before shuffling together, cleaving to each other, joining as one big version of the miniature creature.

Another had been cocoa dust, swirling and swirling, such as a tiny tornado, faster and faster until it flew up and then back down, one single solid cocoa bean left in its place. Then the aforementioned dust skittered about the wooden surface, vibrating, flipping until it curled up into one dust ball.

"Excellent work! It just need to change to another form or another, they are already charmed to follow a certain way, you just need to activate it. Continue." Cordelia turned towards those who had not completed this, Brianna being among those few.

Her blue eyes shut, feeling for the soul of the rodent, however lifeless and empty at the current moment. She imagined a circle of light wrapping around its form. To bring life or maybe alter its appearance. "Adducere vita."

Peering through narrowed eyes, came her results. Nothing. Not even a single piece of fur moved. Then again. "Adducere vita."

Something happened.

The rat wriggled or more likely, rolled across the table for a moment. But she couldn't feel any life, or any sudden change. "Adducere vita."

With a bursting sound, the rat exploded into ashes, destroying any chance of being as one again.

Zoe, crossing between tables, stared at the ashes then to Brianna. "Oh!"

"It did change. Not quite sure it was the right way but it is altered?"

The older witch nodded, looking behind her before looking closer at the ashes. The ashes has streaks of red and black strewn throughout. Not exactly what one would expected. "Yes...uh, good job, Brianna."

Brianna stared at her experiment, then back to the worried look above her, the eyes of it darting back at the Supreme who was making her way over after helping the ant colony, who were now a shade of bright green, once again.

Zoe nodded towards Brianna as the younger witch poked the ashes, meshing the colours together. "I miss the little already. Any chance we can bring him back."

Cordelia, holding her hand above the table, feeling for anything, shook her head. "Unfortunately not, your magic seems to have sealed the result. But I don't understand the colours. Did you add anything?"

"No. All I said was a spell? Is there something wrong?"

Zoe and Cordelia shared another look. "I'm sure it's fine. Zoe, can you go check on the girls in the corner, I believed they have set the curtains alight with their spell."

Cordelia knelt next to Brianna, staring the lines of colours. Then to Brianna and her hands, reaching for them, turning them over and searching for something. Brianna pulled back, taking back her hands, furrowing her brows.

"What? Is there something wrong?!"

Cordelia's face softened, hiding any sign of concern. "No, my dear girl. I just wanted to check, all seems well. But do tell me if you feel anything different when you cast"

The blonde stood, keeping the smile upon her face, bidding the girl goodbye and spelling the ashes away before retreating to her original position at the front of the room. By this time, every girl had successfully completed the task of the night.

"Zoe, Queenie? Could you assess the results as you see fit and let me know your thoughts in the morning. Thank you for your co-operation, girls. Spend your night as you see fit and rest up for tomorrow!"

______________________________

Tendrils of light drifted out of a levitating sphere, hovering just above the hands that conjured it. The sphere containing the dark emptiness of the sky, shining shapes of pure luminosity. Twinkling gently as they spun along with the sphere, at times blending into other as the pace increasing, then stopping, returning to their perfect little space.

It's a wonder something so small and beautiful was made up of burning gas. A fiery inside to a celestial exterior, lighting the night sky, making their own paths, coming and going as they please - or when they perish and burn out.

Is that how fate is? To spend your days burning, showcasing your best self to just explode into ashes, into mere memories and leave whatever mark you left on the universe.

Brianna, deepened by the quiet of the late time, was in her thoughts. She wondered how her own life would unfold. How any witches life would when they had to hide parts of themselves, or how to discover how to control themselves when delved in magic.

Not everyone was meant to be epic or even well-versed in all things witchery. She hadn't exactly made good impressions at the academy. Well, in her own idea of good impressions. She hadn't connected with any of the witches in the way she wished too.

Zoe and Queenie had been the only witches that had checked in with her from time to time, as they did with a few others, particularly those with a curious enrolment into the academy. She supposed it was to keep an eye on any wayward activities. They had mentioned some past discretions of former witches that affected the coven - not any specifics but just a safety point for witches to follow.

Cordelia, when she had time as she was searching for more witches, collecting herbs or plants for her greenhouse - which had expanded into a small apothecary and delegating any roles to monitor any mysterious displays of magical energy, with communication at other academy's similar to here, would teach classes, lead meetings and organise the training of each witch.

Sharp, burning pain erupted under the skin of Brianna's arms, creeping downwards. She lifted her sleeves, the all too familiar dark, spidery veins sliding their way down, reaching her fingertips before dissipating - leaving a stinging pain in its wake.

Brianna squirmed, the sphere of night already gone - disappearing as she endured the consequences. A ache slivered into her mind, her thoughts now reflecting the movements of the former sphere.

"Shit."

Brianna's eyes flickered shut, thoughts gone a flurry and head reeling from the pressure.

"A nice place. Lovely soft clouds. Absolutely nothing dark or scary." Brianna recited, clinging to her bed sheets, pulling her mind to focus. Her magic wasn't something she always had control on, not like the others. She hadn't let anyone know the full extent, not her family, not the coven.

Tainted, she could hear them saying. Defective, cursed, weak. She assumed this would be the route they would face if it was revealed. How could she learn or forge her own 'witchery' if this is what accompanied it.

Sometimes it didn't physically show, except within the result of the incantation but most times, it would rumble through her body like poison, dark piercing magic seeping into her veins - stilling her to repeat the process over and over.

Within time the academy would help her. Fix her supposed darkness? Is that what it was? Did she own it or did it own her? Her peers at her previous school would call it insanity. She thought it a difference, at the current moment anyway.

Black turned to blue slowly, calming all the nerves in her body, shivering away the pain, leaving her feeling weak. Brianna flicked off the light, burying herself in the bed covers and clinging to her pillow as comfort.

The black of nothingness stole her away, pulling her deep, deep down.

Starry skies, wistful willow trees, drowning lakes of cerulean. Places she could find comfort - moments of peace, coolness and light-stepped movements.

A few steps forward, cerulean to blazing ruby and mist to burning embers. Her feet were firmly on the ground, safe even if solidly on blistering rocks, each one more textured than the next.

A soft humming started up in the distance, miles between there and the path she resided upon. Bursts of hot flaming spheres shot their way towards the path, exploding behind her and increasing the intensity of the noise.

Brianna, in the altered dream-like state, was not fazed. She was safe. Her feet were secure on the path, even as snakes begun to slither in around, hissing now accompanying the screeching hum.

"Faster!"

"Faster!"

"Faster!"

Hums and screeches combined, urging her along, they forced her pace to shoot up, leaping across, stone to stone until the noise stopped completely.

"Slowly now."

Brianna raised her hands, pushing the hard wooden door that stood before her. Inside was almost the same layout of a church, pews collected in rows, an aisle straight down the middle and a stage-like area at the very front.

A figure stood at the end, heat scattering in all directions.

Brianna tilted her head, narrowing in to work out who this could be. Another witch? But why would they force her to have this dream. Was it a punishment, a symptom or just fun? She decided to brave it.

"Whoever you are, I'm not afraid."

The mysterious figure turned, head almost ready to meet her eyes but then sank to the floor , head landing in their hands. The eerie humming began again, spheres of flames spurting from the back of them.

"Not now!"

"Too much."

"Take her back!"

Brianna clutched her head. The voices were rattling themselves in and splitting her own mind. Each one similar to a pin piercing into her head, shutting off her mind. She never asked for this, nor wanted to intrude on whatever fucked up shit was happening here.

"You need to leave."

"Then let me!" The brunette, releasing a burst of her own magic, screamed out to the void. The fire travelled to the figure at the end, hovering, before the person twisted back around, hidden from view.

Pale hands held out to the fire, manoeuvring the flames closer, touching the edge of them. It crackled, lights of blue and purple where the figure touched. "Who are you?"

Brianna blinked, not expected her own thoughts being repeated through this stranger. She was the one being forced to be in this strange place, she should be the one asking questions.

She opened her mouth to reply, not her name but a question of her own. Her mind went blank, a dark sea devouring the world around.

Starry skies, willow trees and lakes of cerulean.

Chapter Text

A tiny onyx-coloured pin, formed in the shape of a 'cliche' witch hat signified the first year of a witch, dedicated to her education and on a continued path for success at the academy.

Cordelia stood before the witches of this year, celebrating each one for making it this far. This was a new tradition started shortly after the boom in popularity after the newscast where Miss Robichaux's Academy became known to the public.

Many witches applied, arriving at the academy to determine their future and how to adjust to their powers, the amount that actually stayed ebbed and flowed each year.

Some preferred to deal with their witchiness in their own way, some didn't welcome it and others stayed for the long-term - finding coven-related careers, teaching at the academy or utilising their magic in a productive way after leaving the school.

Brianna was still here, finding promise in magic and the coven around her. She felt most drawn to elemental magic, the lines of the weather, the push and pull calling an element into the fray, commanding it to obey and materialise in this reality - even if an opposite weather condition was currently present.

Rain was the easiest, a vision of the clouds, soft and full of solidified water, picturing the sides closing in and transforming from fuzzy white pillows to light liquidy rain.

But thunder came like quicksand to her, a thought that she needed it, a pull to the earth and above. The sky beckoning to her whims and there it was. A rumbling tumble or a quick crash. Quite a treat to arrive with a bang or to scare the shit out of anyone nearby.

Brianna relished in the elements and how her favoured subject tended to ease discomfort that accompanied her cursed veins.

She twisted the pin, a genuine smile on her face. She had stayed the course for a year and plans on for a while yet. No matter what life or fate would thrust upon the coven.

Cordelia cleared her throat, gathering the attention of those in attendance. "My dear sisters, a year of blessed times and success. We can be sure that there will be many more. Now, we must welcome more witches when the time comes. Be sure to honour our traditions and uphold the sacred sisterhood of our coven."

The blonde Supreme, took a step back with a deep breath. "Now the ceremony is over, I will have to depart for the time being. But be with each other and enjoy this night of festivities. Good night, girls."

Cordelia headed through the closest door, a hand holding her hip tightly with a strained face. Zoe and Queenie followed, bidding their own farewells to the group.

"Well, if that's it then, let's party!" Judith, ever confident and lively, exclaimed, lifting a small glass, topped up with an emerald-coloured liquid. "Someone turn the music on."

A younger girl, with dark hair scurried off to the corner, pressing play to a small stereo. An unfamiliar song, to Brianna's ears, blasted out, setting off the movement vibe of the party scene.

Brianna took herself over to the table, throwing back a shot of the absinthe. Traces of anise and a burning sensation caressed her throat. It was unique, that's for sure.

Across the table, various sodas, alcoholic beverages, fancy snack foods and baked goods were displayed, all for the witches to dine at and use as fuel for the night.

Brianna swiped a croissant, nibbling at the end to give the absinthe some company other than her stomach acid. But the alcohol had eased her mind, the colours of the room brightened and her mind had a air of wooziness to it.

Strange how the world could look different when perspectives were altered.

Brianna stared ahead at the candle in the corner of the room. Fire was another element but not her favourite. It roared and crackled when she needed it to but it never felt like a piece of her, not like a storm did.

The jolt of lightning, the simmering of a boom and the cry of fresh rain. All felt both parts, comforting and powerful. Her blood felt charged and steady at the same time, it felt like she belonged, like she was the storm.

But fire felt like chaos, like one sheer element that could tear everything apart in mere seconds.

"Another?" Zoe offered, chuckling at her intense gaze, who had popped out of nowhere after her disappearance.

Brianna met her eyes, returning a nod of agreement, another glass landing in her hands.

"To witches!" Others cheered in the room, their own food or drinks being lifted before indulging.

Zoe and Brianna echoed those words, letting the absinthe flow in before placing the glasses down on the closest table.

"I don't think I'll ever get used to the taste." Zoe scrunched her face up. She moved her head in a gesture, towards the door Cordelia exited through. "Cordelia wants to talk with you, by the way. She said you would know what it is about."

"Ah, yes. I think I'm prepared enough to delve into the 'curse' talk now that I'm a little buzzed. Plus, I'm a little less terrified that some of you know about it."

Brianna had kept it to herself for a few months but a few mishaps and exploding spells had opened the door right up for her to completely come clean about the effects of it all.

Zoe stepped closer to her. "You can trust us, Brianna. We're not going to judge you about something you can't control. We want to help you figure it out, if you'll let us."

Brianna felt her veins start to sting, the topic of it raising her anxiety enough to bring it to attention. "I'm grateful for that but I don't want to use up any resources that could be better spent on helping the coven."

"You are a part of the coven." Zoe reminded kindly. She nodded to the door. "Now get in there before Cordelia decides to retire completely from this night."

Brianna followed her way to the door on the right, not needing to knock as it blew open. Cordelia was sat behind her desk, black-rimmed glasses upon her face and a concerned expression underneath.

"I was needed?"

Cordelia clicked at her computer, exiting the document she was writing, and turned her body to Brianna. "Brianna, I am so glad that you stayed so long with us. I was worried you might want to leave."

"Leave? Please, my mother's would've told you how stubborn I am. You are stuck with me for a while, I fear."

"They did tell me of your determined nature. But I meant about your...situation. And how I haven't been able to-."

Brianna sat in the chairs, facing the Supreme. "No, you've tried. And maybe it's more complicated that we can imagine. I trust you, okay?"

"I know. And I trust you."

"Was there anything specific you needed to tell me?"

The laptop was closed gently, the scrape of the chair loud in the room as Cordelia came to Brianna's side.

"I have some more girls joining us very soon and was checking in if you wouldn't mind sharing a space with one. I left your room to be just yours due to your situation but thought it could be nice to expand your circle."

Brianna took a moment to think this through. She was more of a solitary person, independently capable but she socialised well enough. It would be nice to have company in those times when she felt alone, missing her parents and wondering if she's made the right choice.

"I have in mind, a witch named Mallory. She's a talented witch, adept with levitation and will be arriving in a few days time."

She made her choice quickly. "I can do that."

______________________________

A bright head of perfectly kept, flaming red hair swished into the front hallway, a few girls behind her. Their nervous faces are a contrast to the woman's wisely confident one.

"A success, it seems, darling Cordelia."

Myrtle Snow had taken it upon herself to find more witches to empower and join their coven, following leads of calls sent in by worried parents or news of strange occurrences.

"Welcome, to all of you. I am Cordelia Goode and the headmaster of this academy. This is a place for you to learn, to listen and to find who you are as well as finding your powers as they form. I will talk to you each individually in time but for now, you will be assigned to another, who will guide you through the academy and then to your rooms. Take time to settle in and don't be afraid to ask questions, curiosity is very welcomed here."

Cordelia looked at each one of the new arrivals, offering them a warm smile. She turned to the older students who lined up behind, connecting them to their new company. Pair after pair, they each went their separate ways, deciding to start in different parts of the academy, reducing any overlap or crowding.

"Mallory, you will be guided by Brianna."

Brianna walked forward when the said girl took a step their way, looking up to them. Mallory looked around the same age as Brianna, her hair a cascade of brunette into blonde, highlighting her face in an angelic way. Deep brown eyes held a semblance of caution.

Brianna's boots clicked on the hard floor, reaching the new witch in a few steps. "Welcome, Mallory. I'm Brianna Harton. I've been at the academy for a year now and trust me, it's not as scary as it may seem today."

Mallory lifted her chin, a chuckle falling from her lips. "I suppose not."

"It's a little overwhelming, especially leaving a part of your life behind but it's a place where you'll, hopefully, feel at home." Brianna returned a grin, and held out her hand.

"Let's go on that tour, hey? It might look a little smaller if we do. First stop, we'll start with the garden."

Mallory's shoulders relaxed, her hand in the other witches, while being escorted to the grand back door, pausing to take in the rooms passing by before they walked out into the expansive garden.

The backyard used to be a middling length, with some bushes, a row of half-dying flowers, a mossy green stained bird bath with engravings of old academy occupants and a backing of old yet strong, healthy trees.

Today, it was a sprawling piece of land, flourishing green grass, kaleidoscope of blooming flowers, tree lined paths - that lead to various ornaments such as a sun-dial in the exact spot it needed to be, a pond with thriving creatures, a recently made rose garden (a Myrtle request once when she returned) and the aforementioned bird bath, clean and bright, with fresh water for the bird-life that fly by each day and in-tract engravings so witch history can live on.

Mallory breathed her surroundings in, marvelling at the peace she felt instantly, nature was always healing for her and this, this would certainly do. She would often befriend small animals: squirrels, birds, lizards, foxes, rabbits, rodents. Perhaps they would find her here as well.

"It's amazing."

Brianna stalked over to the bird bath, tapping along the side, bringing attention to the spidery scrawling that read 'Cordelia Goode'. "Perhaps one day, we'll leave our own mark on this bath, or on the world. Both, if you're ambitious enough."

"I think for now, my focus is on learning at the academy. But it's a nice thought."

Mallory brushed her hand against a tree, feeling the particles of the bark beneath and traced the letters carved into it. "Do all witches like engravings or is it just an 'us' coven thing?"

She was met with a raised eyebrow, Brianna joining her side when she spotted the old message. A faded heart with two initials added together. B + M.

"I've actually never noticed that one before." Brianna hummed, leaving Mallory's side. "The rose garden is new, mainly waiting for the 'Cordelia' Rose to be made, Myrtle insisted that Cordelia needed to work on this, something about signifying the beauty that she has brought to the coven. The greenhouse connects to the other side of the mansion, only a few of the girls actually study botany or floriculture, it's a particular favorite of Cordelia's."

"I like the sound of that." Mallory turned around, the view of the house reflecting back. "What do you study?"

"Well, we all have certain subjects that are compulsory, needed for us to cultivate our craft and protect ourselves. Other than that are extracurriculars and interest subjects. I chose to dive deeper into elemental magic, how we can control and expand elements, like a blend of the environment with our own powers."

A small wren, with a golden underbelly and honey-brown wings scooped down, dipping its beak gently into the clear water of the bird bath. Mallory crossed over to it, holding out her hand.

Tiny stick three-piece feet landed in the witches hand, chittering softly, unafraid of the person above.

"Ornithology seems a great choice for you." Brianna remarked with awe. "It's taken a liking to you. Which isn't a surprise, you seem really serene.

"In this environment, it's hard not to be." Mallory cooed to the bird before setting it back on the stone. "Next part of the tour?"

The next section included a quick trip around the kitchen, with high-quality appliances, a pantry full of food for any and every occasion or dietary requirement. Then to each classroom, Brianna attaching a snippet of information for the classes that were held in them, to the everyday spaces: the library, the music room, the main dining room and the spacious meeting hall, which was used for evening parties, correspondence meetings and any events the academy was required to host.

"Now for the rooms, some witches choose to live in their own apartments close by but a majority do stay in the house. The upper floors have a variety of rooms, there are options for either bunking with someone else or receiving a room of your own. You and I, if you don't mind sharing, are on the upper 2nd floor, closer to the front of the house."

With that in mind, the brunette witch glided her hand on the railing as they ascended, passing one floor to the next. "Upstairs, there are more rooms, most are filled by the older witches and then the stairs connected to a balcony on the roof, that is where those who adore the stars spend time, astrology and astronomy are both offered as subjects if either piques your interest.

She halted at the next floor, disengaging from the stairs to follow the path down. "The shared bathrooms are in the middle of the hallway, there are multiple showers and toilets available so no need to worry. Now here we are."

They stopped at a white, wooden door, marked with the number 18, closest room to the end of the hall, finished with a bay window, lacy curtains blowing in the wind, the scent of jasmine and gardenia welcoming them.

Brianna pushed open the door, sliding to her side of the room. "The right side is all yours, nothing special at the moment but I'm sure you'll redecorate in your own way."

Mallory glanced at the wrought iron bed frame of the twin bed, clean white sheets topped with a lilac quilt and fluffy pillows. Beside it, was an ornate chest of draws, a letter upon it.

"Cordelia likes to write a letter to each newcomer to the academy, she might mention why you came here, what she thinks might work for you in terms of subjects and an all-around welcome to the witch world. So, Mallory, welcome to the witch world, we at the academy sincerely hope you enjoy your time here."

______________________________

"Bonitas mihi trahe, sacras venas sana, et magicae lumen affer."

Brianna, with her eyes closed, mouth repeating a phrase, held a long golden rod, that shimmered, sending out bright, joyful energy. It was an energy source baton, to uplift a witch's powers and override the negative.

"Again, now hold tighter and envision a circle enclosing around you, yellow like the sun, shining the light of your magic over the faded parts."

Cordelia stood above her, eyebrows furrowed in concentration. This was another experiment to try to heal Brianna's powers. She wasn't sure on the right path to take, but she had spent some time finding some spells or rituals that could ease the annoyance of the young witch's situation.

With a determined, grounded voice, Brianna tightened her grasp and opened her mind. "Bonitas mihi trahe, sacras venas sana, et magicae lumen affer. "Bonitas mihi trah-"

A jolting movement, tiny orange sparks dancing among the surface of the rod before it split into two. The glow faded, prompting the girl to drop it to the ground. "Well, that's that, I guess.

Brianna dug her nails into the floor, wishing the pricking of tears at her eyes would dissipate. This had been the 28th time she had tried to work at the healing and she couldn't help but feel like she was burdening Cordelia with this.

It felt uncontrollable. It felt like a seeping poison swimming through her bloodstream, tarnishing each and every organ of hers. The pain had increased in the past few days. She didn't mention that to anyone. It had to be her issue to solve now.

"I think I'm gonna go to bed now."

Cordelia knelt down, touching Brianna's shoulder, asking for her to turn around. Kind brown eyes offered a sanctuary to unburden your sorrows. The pricking turned to a waterfall.

"I need a break, Miss Cordelia. And I know you do too. I'll deal with it for the time being, it shouldn't be so bad. And I know you have academy business to deal with."

Brianna wiped a hand over her now blotchy face. "Thank you truly for helping me with this. I never took it for granted, I need you to know that."

"Brianna. You don't need to thank me but I appreciate it. I'm invested in your healing but yes, a break would do us both some good. But you need to tell me if something happens, your sanity and safety are of the utmost importance."

Cordelia thumbed away a salty tear drifting down the brunette's cheek, moving her thumb back and forth until Brianna took a deep breath and rose from where she sat.

"Goodnight, Miss Cordelia."

The supreme, now on her feet, gave a gracious nod, moving over to her chaise sofa and sat down, watching as the girl left her vision.

Any of her pain had subsided, the tears drying on her face once she reached the second landing. She wanted the comfort of home, the pillowy softness of a familiar bed and the scent of pine in the air.

But she settled for a different familiar bed, the comfort of serene colours and a newfound friend. Mallory was laying on her own bed, arms outstretched with a book, her face lifting when the door opened. And somehow she knew, somehow she sensed a change in the atmosphere.

"What's wrong?"

Brianna shook her head. "Everything's fine. Just tired."

Mallory stood up, her book placed gently on the bedside table. "We've only known each other for a few days but I can definitely pick up on when you are lying. Please tell me."

Brianna flipped her arms over, mumbling a few words, the light glowing brighter. Normal, blue-tinged veins increased in size, turning to inky streams, irritated and angry.

"Unfortunately, magic isn't as simple for me. This is part of the reason I'm here in the first place. So, if you want to swap rooms, feel free, I won't take offense."

Mallory wrapped her hands around her roommates wrists, focusing on Brianna's reaction.

Fiery irritation eclipsed to a soothing icy feel, a wave of relief washing in and flooding her senses.

Brianna froze in her stance, eyes widening. "How did you do that? It-it doesn't hurt as much."

"I just did it. You were in pain so I just...helped." Mallory offered a shrug, slinking back to the side of her bed. "I like being your roommate and this doesn't change anything."

The brunette, hands now by her side, movement mirroring Mallorys' to her own bed. A grin crept its way up to her face. "So you don't want to switch your room?"

"No. I'm happy where I am."

"As am I."

Mallory switched off her bedside light, knowing the other one would illuminate her enough for Brianna to see. She leant back, eyes closed and allowed sleep to quickly take her, her mind was still half-full of thoughts as her body rose off of the bed, hovering, arms flicked down.

Brianna certainly noticed, backing up for a second before moving forward. "Are you still awake?"

"Mhm." Came a mumble from Mallory's lips. "Sort've."

Mallory fell back down, eyes flashing open. "You showed me yours. I showed you mine. Now, do you want to swap rooms?"

Brianna brought forth the grin she felt before. "No."

"That's settled then. Now, I'd love to get some rest before we tackle the science of resurrection tomorrow. Otherwise you might need to use that information if I don't get my required eight hours of sleep."

"Goodnight, Mallory."

"Goodnight Bri."

Chapter Text

"Struggling again, are we Harton? What a shame, you'd make a fortunate witch if it weren't for, you know."

Judith, sporting a conniving smirk, tilted her head to the side as she turned around. "Well, at least we have people here that can show others how things are done around here."

A cool breeze flew into the window, sending goosebumps among the blonde's skin.

"Well, at least I have a heart, you'd make a fortunate human being if you had one. And we don't have empathy or compassion as a class so you are shit out of luck, sweetheart."

The blonde, fury flashing across her powdered face, stood hastily, directing a hand up and flinging Brianna to the back of the classroom.

Brianna slammed into the back wall, sending a shock through her back. Judith followed the path upwards, heels clicking as she did. "Fight back, Harton. I know you want to."

Her hand met her mouth as she gasped. "Oh, wait, you kind of can't, can you?"

A vibration was felt through the floor, the brunette witch stood, stumbling for a bit. She leveled her eyes to the other girl, using the wind to push her back, heels slipping on the floor before Judith fell onto her bottom.

Judith immediately hit back, sending a heavy book her way.

It slammed into Brianna's face and she reached for the closest wall to hold herself up. All the other students had sat in shock, one student scrambling to run off to find the teacher, who had left to collect some supplies.

Blood dripped from the left side of Brianna's face but she straightened up, a wild smile appearing on her face. "Is that all?"

"You two need to stop it, this is ridiculous." Calliope remarked, a witch with short black hair, still concentrating on her spell work in front of her.

"No. That's not all." Judith pulled sparks down from the light above and sent them raining down on Brianna.

But Brianna had her grasp on the wind and reversed their pattern, golden embers shooting towards the blonde before they abruptly fell to the floor due to a shield conjured by a witch next to Judith."

"Miss Cordelia will probably be here soon due to this ruckus. Shut it down."

"Okay." Brianna whispered.

A howling blare of the wind picked up, the air whipping around, circling and circling into the room. Brianna tilted her own head, followed by a thundering clap of silver lightning and she held her hands up, palms facing up.

The thunder drummed on and rain hammered down in just seconds.

Calliope turned to Brianna with wide eyes. "What are you doing?"

"I'm proving a point."

Judith snorted from her position on the floor, starting to heave herself up on the nearest desk. "That you're normal? Because that's off the table."

Brianna flicked her wrist. A lightning strike hit nearby, wind crashing into the two windows at the front, shattering the glass from the hinges of the window frame. The other occupants in the classroom covered their faces, wary of the stray pieces near them.

The force of the wind knocked Brianna backwards, her elbows hitting the floors hard. A few pieces of glass meshing into her hair, similar to Judith, who was clutching a desk at the front.

One last angry rumble of thunder and Brianna stood down. "Enough for you, Judith. Or do you want to be in the eye of the storm?"

Judith opened her mouth to snark back but the door behind them all blew open, not unlike the windows a minute ago.

"Sisters! We do not attack another. And we certainly do not damage academy property. This is not a part of our academy, in any aspect. We must be together as a coven. All of you will retire to your rooms immediately."

The end to the duel had been sharply concluded by Myrtle. "Judith, you will meet me in my office. Brianna, you will report to your Supreme."

Zoe entered the room, eyebrows raised as she took in the mess. Her head turned, spotting the brunette, her feet finding her way to her. "This was dangerous, Bri. Not only to others, but to yourself. I know it takes a toll on you.

"I know." Brianna wiped the dripping red from her face, taking the hand now offered to her and spun to face where Judith stood with her two worried friends checking her over frantically, and her lips quirked up in a confident smile.

"But it was fucking worth it."

The satisfaction, the look on Judith's face and the feeling of power was all worth it

But the scolding she was most likely about to receive from her Supreme, well, the worthiness of that was dwindling by each second she stood outside the main office.

Brianna knew she had to have some dire consequences for putting witches in harm's way and behaving recklessly. But she wanted to feel something. She wanted to feel power. She wanted to feel good.

And she did. She felt fucking spectacular - marred with some guilt but not all too much.

Suspension or expulsion seemed likely. Maybe exile?

All possibilities, all options for a punishment.

The door opened, a blonde woman and older man leaving to reveal a worried-looking Cordelia. "Come in, Brianna."

Brianna closed the door quickly and slumped into a chair, closing her eyes.

"Please just expel me quickly and send me far far away. I'll find a way to atone for my issues."

Silence followed, with the shuffling of pages, before something was handed her way, eyes opening when she felt the nudge of the paper and she held it awkwardly.

"You are not being expelled. I am disappointed in this incident, for the both of you." Cordelia placed her glasses upon her face, nodding to the paper. "The Hawthorne School for Exceptional Young Men."

"Excuse me?"

"I have a contact there that has an interest in curses and finding our cures for different ailments, he is an ally to our coven and assures protection as well as education for a few months. I had this in mind as I know we were reaching some blockages. It might not hurt to try."

But it would hurt. It always did.

Brianna skimmed the page, photos and paragraphs about the school filling the first page.

The Hawthorne School for Exceptional Young Men. A prestigious and well-respected school that harbours an exceptional chance of education, magical accolades and defining one's place within the witch/warlock world. Headed by Ariel Augustus as Grand Chancellor, a level three warlock and dedication teacher of magic. Hawthorne welcomes any young warlock who seeks to define and find their power, to attend and be amongst fellow talented warlocks and taught by professionally documented, high standard tutors such as Behold Chablis, John Henry Moore and Baldwin Pennypacker.

The images of the school stood out to her. A tall, dark structural entrance, resembling a piece of architectural art more than a door to a school. The land around looked sandy and dry, offering a look into the warm atmosphere that surely surrounds it, hot sun streaming down onto all surfaces. The halls were dim, lit by several fireplaces. It wasn't open and serene-like, as Miss Robichaux's was.

The middle paragraph mentioned a fire in the past that took away the original building, leading them to move underground and conceal their location in a more efficient way to keep out any non-magical dweller who happened upon the building.

"It's a warlock school though. We never really mesh altogether. I only met a few warlocks before, Myrtle warned me to stay away from them."

Cordelia let out a deep sigh, another nod forming. "Yes, we tend not to be in the same circle due to certain differences but magic respects magic, and I am the Supreme, so that affords us some solid ground to stand on. And they are honoured to host you for some time. You'll have your own room, be able to attend classes, and John Henry has asked for you to personally teach some classes if you were agreeable to it"

"So, this isn't a punishment?"

The blonde met her eyes, lips pursed. "No, not a punishment. A redirection. A different perspective."

"And Judith?"

"Judith is enrolling into the Rivers Academy for Determined Witches. She has been disagreeable to her fellow witches. I contacted her mother to switch her to a more suitable school."

Brianna relaxed into her chair. "And when do I leave for my redirection?"

"Tomorrow morning after breakfast." Cordelia pushed her chair in, handing some tickets to Brianna's hands. "Zoe will escort you to the Hawthorne Academy, accompanied by some of our security detail, one will stay with you for the time being. If you need anything, we are only a spell or call away, I promise you."

Brianna tucked the tickets in her pocket, now on her way out and she stopped, eyes turning to Cordelia's. "Will you be okay, Miss Cordelia?"

Cordelia offered a smile, eyebrows furrowing. "Whatever do you mean, dear Brianna?"

She stepped closer, eyelashes flicking down. "I know you haven't been well. In all our lessons, it wasn't only me it took a toll on. I know something is off-balance."

"Thank you for your concern." Cordelia reached across, squeezing the brunette's hand. "You have no need to worry, I am the picture of health. Goodbye Brianna, I know you'll do well no matter where you go."

______________________________

Withering heat rained down upon the matte inky exterior of the vehicle Zoe and Brianna arrived in, their own skin met with the burn of the angry sun, glaring down at them as they traipsed towards the academy.

It stood in a lacklustre grassy clearing, expanding out into decently vibrant trees that back onto tall mountains. The dark structure, a heavy contrast to the natural elements.

Brianna's cloak bounced as they reached the landing, where a sleek silver elevator stood, clicking open to welcome the witches in.

Their security detail stood behind them, one an older man who had accompanied the coven for many such years, guiding Zoe inside the space. Beside Brianna, was Culnis, the other security detail who would be staying there with her. He had a curious expression when he turned into the elevator, he gestured to both girls. "It will be warm down there as well, I can handle your cloaks."

With a smile, the cloaks were collected and he pressed the button down to the main area. He was excited to see another magical academy, especially being new to the coven's security and entrusted with an important event.

Brianna offered her thanks once they reached the lower level, walking out into the narrow hall. Zoe fell into step behind her, healthily wary of the men ahead.

"Witches! Welcome to the humble Hawthorne School, we're delighted to receive such a visit. Even if the Supreme could not make it herself." A small man with a cleared head and scheming eyes parroted, flanked by the other tutors.

Brianna looked to Zoe, steeling herself before offering anything in return to Ariel, the Grand Chancellor.

"Thank you...for your acceptance. We hope this will pull the ties between our covens closer still."

"Yes, an excellent idea. I'm sure both our warlocks and your witches can offer something effective to one another. Trust will hopefully come first." He shot a look to the men behind.

The fires ahead flared up as the group continued into the building. Sand-coloured walls, dark wood finishings and fireplaces upon fireplaces. It was expansive, containing expensive fittings, wooden bannisters to be seen connecting parts of the upper floor, for bedrooms and classrooms, and a grand staircase, not unlike at the academy.

"This is the centre of the academy, a place for many classes and powerful events, this fire pit has seen thousands of young men through to their successes. It offers a place of power to draw from, and is essential in signifying when a sufficient student has learnt an important lesson."

Ariel glided past the mentioned middle of the room, letting them into the library area. "A haven of education, with books from valuable and insightful warlocks, sprawling from centuries ago to this very day. John Henry has his own shelf, as an accomplished warlock author."

John Henry Moore, a tall man with a neutral face, stood to his left. His head moved in agreement. A witty chuckle fell from the other man beside him, Behold tilted his head. "Some of us are more action than words."

Brianna nodded, taking in the countless array of books she could spend her days pouring over. She had been halfway through her own academies books prior to being whisked away here.

"Words can be easier at times. Are all the books open to all students?

John Henry's face flickered, in recognition of her interest. "Of course. Miss Cordelia mentioned you had an interest in reading, you may also borrow some of my personal collection."

Now, that was exciting. Brianna couldn't wait to see what the warlocks deigned as important or valuable compared to the witches.

"The academy also hosts several study rooms, an interior greenhouse, a music room and several kitchens."

The Grand Chancellor cleared his throat, a clear sign for another to take over. Behind him, Baldwin approached the two with a cheerful countenance. "I'll take you to your lodgings, your belongings I believe have already arrived."

Mr Pennypacker assumed the lead to the stairs, elevating them onto the next level and then the next. A hexagon takes shape through the floorplan, various bridges and balcony pieces connecting the landings from the rooms.

"This level's occupants are for the more exceptional students, who have proved themselves meritable in their powers. I would suggest to mingle and make connections, it will only further you along. Myself and the other tutors have a different level down the main hallway if there are any queries you need solutions for."

A key zipped through the air to her and she placed it into the lock when they reached the furthest right room.

"It is spelled with a light floral fragrance, as commanded by Ms Snow, afforded with all the materials you may need. She also sent a list of foods that we needed to adhere to. She mentioned you were vegetarian. That is all sorted for you."

Brianna lifted her head, a swell of pride at her coven's insistence. She wasn't high maintenance but she did appreciate the luxuries of the world. The tutor offered a - not so there - smile before disappearing.

The room, lit by a few candelabras in each corner, with a roaring fire featured a double bed with purple-shaded covers, a spacious bathroom attachment, a small writing desk where numerous pens, pencil and notebook lay, ready for her to pen her findings, or maybe her feelings if she felt like it.

She never kept a journal, and didn't see the point of it. She just, you know, deals with her feelings herself and c'est la vie the results.

Zoe sat at the edge of the bed, wrinkling her nose. "It's not like home but it should do."

She was skeptical about Brianna coming here. Maybe they had more ideas to help with her curse. But it was an equal chance to Miss Robichaux. How would they find something that Miss Cordelia couldn't, even in her wavering state of being.

"It will do." Brianna replied, nudging her friend as she joined her. "At least for now but I will miss the open air of the academy."

The brunette leant her head down onto the shoulder nearby. "Are you staying for long? Or do you need to get back straight away?"

"I wish I could but I'm needed back tomorrow." Zoe stopped, her eyes went misty before she continued. "...I need to visit someone nearby that I used to know. He was someone special to me."

"What happened to him, if you don't mind me asking?"

"He did something against a witch, in defence of me but still in breach of our rules. Fortunately, Cordelia had mercy for him, deciding that death by fire was not suitable in the situation...or even in this century. He's at a type of institution nearby."

"Oh." Brianna stared ahead, her hand finding Zoes.

"He's taken care of. It's not a bad place. It helps him. It's not like those eerie asylums where dreadful things take place."

A quick squeeze before she pulled her into a hug. "Oh, I'm going to miss you, Z. You have such a generous heart. You've dealt with so much and you're still ...so lovely. And you smell like fresh lilies, opposed to whatever this place will end up smelling like."

Brianna wiped a tear that had fallen, tilting her friends' chin up. "I'm sure whoever this is, is going to be delighted to see you.

"I hope so." Zoe turned to her. "By the way, did you know that there were bugs in Judith's breakfast this morning?"

Brianna, genuinely surprised, shook her head. "No, I ate mine in the backyard. But I can't say that it's not...amusing."

"So, it wasn't you, hm."

Brianna declined her suspicion but had an inkling to whom would have chosen this form of revenge.

The two friends sat there for an hour or so, discussing the mishaps that Judith had been involved with, to her credit, she was a skilled witch but with an awful attitude. Zoe explained her more of the boy she was going to visit.

An old flame who had had his own dealings in life, was involved in an accident and brought back by two of the witches, to stay at the coven until he wasn't allowed to.

But the time dwindled along, and the older security breached the room. "Time to depart, Miss Benson.

"Farewell, Zoe. May the tides of magic bless you furthermore. In other words, see you soon."

"See you soon, Brianna."

Zoe headed out the door, leaving space for Culnis to come in with Brianna's cloak and the rest of her belongings, setting it not far from the bed.

"Did they give you a nice enough room?"

Culnis, proving himself to be more talkative than the other protectors of the coven, shot a grin her way and winked. "An ensuite and its own fireplace. Also, next to one of the kitchens. I'll sneak you some cake if you ever need some."

Brianna leaned forward, raising her eyebrows, prompting more.

Culnis chuckled. "Red velvet with chocolate icing and raspberries on top."

"Yes, you remembered!"

Culnis moved over to the door, ready to take up his station outside. "Queenie asked me three times to ensure that it was that exact flavour. She wanted your first birthday at the academy to be special."

Brianna felt a warm feeling at her mention. Queenie had been her first friend at the academy and now she was just gone? She had been on her way to star on 'The Price is Right' and staying at an old-style hotel downtown.

But unfortunately, either the hotel was cursed or just messed up in some way and death occurred. Queenie was stuck there and no one could visit her, in fear of the same fate happening to any of them.

Zoe and Brianna had protested, arguing they could sort out a way to see her safely but Cordelia was stubborn on her decision, heart already shattered from losing Queenie. To protect others, she was the only one to visit and try to help Queenie.

Cordelia had blamed herself for not keeping her girls safe. That was always her first priority.

"You have a note as well, from a close friend."

Brianna glanced at the piece of paper handed to her. It was slightly crinkled with neat writing.

Dearest Bri,

I hope you settle in well at the Hawthorne school. I already miss you, the academy felt duller the second you left the grounds but I suppose I'll make do. And I know you can handle yourself, you have proved that time and time again. Miss Cordelia assigned me to look after another witch, one by the name of Coco St. Pierre Vanderbilt, she seems a little high strung but not unkind so I am excited to see how this goes. Do not worry, she is assigned to a different dormitory, two powerful witches in a room is more than enough and I do quite like your company. That is all for now but I'll send messages when I can or we can find some other ways to communicate.

Kind Blessings,

Mallory

P.S. Have you ever heard of aphids? I believe Judith only discovered those today.

And so, the mystery of the bug spell had been revealed. How harmless bugs, usually found in plants or bushes, had found themselves wriggling in the light sluggy porridge of Judith's breakfast.

A fair but unappetising response to a threat to a friend. Fortunately, there was more on offer for breakfast at the coven's usual, buffet style selection, with no bugs or hidden messages.

Chapter Text

“You resurrected a dead deer!?”

Brianna’s voice filled her entire room as she questioned Mallory, who was now currently astral projected into her room, a novice little spell they have spent a week planning and pulling off.

“Like just like…” She clicked her fingers, eyes widened. “That?

Mallory, scratching her upper arm, uncomfortable with the attention this topic has brought. “I just helped it. It’s nothing massive.”

“I’ve never been able to do something like that, nor have some of our other witches. Mal, elaborate, this is..brilliant!”

Mallory sat on the edge of the bed, a slight hover due to the whole astral spell, not making a dent in the bed at all and let out a deep sigh. “I noticed the deer first, it called to me, like the soul of it. I went over to it and sat by. I focused in on that soul connection and centred in on that, pulling it back to life.”

The blonde witch shuffled on the bed. “Myrtle said that it involved time travel. That I had gone back in time to when it was alive.”

Brianna, perched on the ground, hands holding up her chin in wonder. “Mal! You are extraordinary. Are you okay? Did it take a toll on you at all?”

“No.” Mallory moved to her friend. “It was easy.”

The fire roared behind them, warming the space. It was never particularly cold but somehow the warmth had become a comfort to Brianna in the past few weeks.

Mallory reached for her hand, holding it towards her. She inspected each vein, checking for any imperfection. Brianna hadn’t mentioned anything about her issue recently but that doesn’t mean that nothing had happened.

The blonde inhaled, pulling in a glimmery wave of power before pressing down on Brianna’s arm, eyes shuttering as she spoke an incantation,

The ivory glimmers now danced upon Brianna’s wrist and lower arm, melting a soothing charm into the very deep blue and black that resided there.

It felt like pure bliss, a shimmery flush of aqua washing away the defiant dark of her body. She felt a shiver crawl up her spine and then back down to her wrists.

Brianna then glanced at her friend, a soft look of gratitude.

“No issues lately?

“No, but I have been avoiding any big spells, just teaching some of the boys some theory rather than anything practical, focusing on historical stories.”

Mallory dropped her hand and sat back. “Peaceful then. Unfortunately, we have had some disturbance. Myrtle keeps parroting on about a strange feeling she has, like something is coming. It’s strange, really.”

“And Cordelia?”

Mallory opened and shut her mouth, thinking on how best to continue. “She had a few days of rest.”

“Oh.”

“But she is back teaching now, so I think it’s okay.”

Brianna re-joined their hands, demanding Mallory’s attention. “Have you thought about…?”

Malloy shook her head immediately. “No! I can’t, Brianna. It’s not right. Cordelia is strong and she’s-”.

“Faltering. Not in her mind, but her health. It’s awful but I think it means that someone else is…on the rise.”

A quick silence followed, the implications of that loud enough for any room. It hadn’t even been all that long since Cordelia had been proclaimed Supreme, a success in all of the Seven Wonder, before the two had even a thought of the school in their minds.

How could someone so kind, strong and deserving of the position now had to stand down and give in to fate. The idea of the Supreme had never appealed to Brianna. Life after life. Power and responsibility for a time before the next would lay claim at it.

But why was it happening in such haste? Cordelia had many many years left and the new one shouldn’t even be feeling an immense sort of power.

Brianna has her ideas on who it was. Her friend before her, who had showcased extraordinary displays of power ever since they had met.

From reconstructing the particle of a simple white rose to cerulean petals to the fluttering shape of a butterfly, absorbing the sickness of some in the infirmary and experiencing no after effects or symptoms, to conjuring expansive astral projections for her and Brianna to step into or travel to, and now restoring, through time, the soul and health of a departed deer.

She was certainly something.

“No, Brianna. I can’t be. At least, not now.”

A knock sounded at the door, a sound of timekeeping. To Mallory, it had been a faint, a small sound compared to the absolute fear of the anticipation of her future. Her spell had waned as her mind flickered to other thoughts, already halfway back to Miss Robichaux’s.

“I’ve got to go teach a class now.” Brianna squeezed Mallorys translucent hand. “Astral you later?”

“Yeah.”

Mallory disappeared, leaving a sweet scent of jasmine and fresh mint, to return to her rightful place of existence.

Her friend had dissociated each time the subject of the next Supreme had been brought up. Or her ever-growing powers that were rapiding succeeding in spectacular ways.

Brianna certainly couldn’t do those things for the life of her, her own situation aside. She was an average witch with normal-esque powers. And she was quite comfortable with that.

She supposed the stress and responsibility would be too much, and to lead a whole coven. No, thanks. A big blessed no to that.

She would probably end up exploding the whole academy within moments. And then be put with the likes of neglectful former Supremes, their faces haunting the halls, watching as each generation upon each generation flowed through.

All Brianna needed to do was to teach a class, and that she could do.

______________________________

Soft, uncalloused hands held in the air, gathering the dry sand from the ground, twisting it up, slowly turning clockwise, the pace increasing.

The particles spun in a tornado-like vision, in its own quarter of the outside.

“We can control elements and change that at our will. A focused mind and a pointed goal are the keys to this. This may be easier for those who are closer to elemental intuition, as I am.”

Her sand-storm swirled and swirled, not a trace or pinch of it escaping, held tight in a coil, in a cage of her control. One jolt of thought, or a simple release would alter its form.

“Take a space for yourself and try to do the same, hold your mind and control in a tight grip, all that matters is you and the sand.”

The class of warlocks spread out across the sandy “backyard” of their academy, which surrounded the stark structure of the entrance. Each began to straighten their posture and concentrate on the ground beneath them.

It wasn’t usual for them to have classes outside, as one had told Brianna but she needed to see sunlight, feel some form of fresh air that wasn’t stuffy and fire lit heat. And it offered someone new, to use the earth around them, and to actually experience something outside of their school.

For the witches, they had been taken on numerous excursions. To Salem, to visit the stories of witches, connect to the strong magic that lingered, piercing through one’s mind. Then to museums, where unbeknownst to the average person, many witches and warlocks had their own artworks or masterpieces draped on the walls.

Whimsical forests, lakeside retreats and tea rooms (a favourite of Myrtle’s) were also included in that lengthy list.

Cordelia thought it meaningful and well-rounding for her coven to be free to explore, for them to create their own futures, emboldened by the ancient stories and exceptional scenery they resided on, appreciating all cultures and paths of life.

“Call it to you. Let it follow your command and transform to the vision.”

Multiple heads nodded to her teachings, regrouping their powers and following the words.

Numerous pockets of sand levitated up, the soft chanting matching to the windy sound it created.

Brianna halted her own, perfectly landing the particles onto the floor, where they usually lie, and strolled down the middle of the group.

“Nice work, slow it down for a moment.”

She stopped at a young boy with fiery red hair, focused on the experiment before him.

He altered the pace of his chanting, commanding each particle to slide more than spin, tracking the small movement. “Motus decrescunt. Pulvis erit cingi ad voluntatem meam.”

The particles twinkled, still in their circular path but now at a more leisurely pace, not a stressed storm but now a slow-moving river, guiding one another to the next stop, completing each circuit, piece by piece.

Brianna nodded at the warlock. All her lessons so far had been quite successful. She liked the idea of letting others learn and teaching them how to be in control of their magic.

And thankfully, she has become better at hiding when anything affected her if she used too much of her magic or went too far in a spell. But since the magic they were currently practicing was more level one than higher up magic, it didn’t have an intense effect.

Movement caught her eye from the side, as a selection of people exited from the academy’s main entrance. Their path ended as a matte black Mercedes Benz rolled up to pick up the one at the front, who she identified as Ariel Augustus.

The two at his side retreated back, with one noticing the group of warlocks outside, diverting to come see if they were doing some decent work, as he wasn’t so sure about having a young witch teach their warlocks.

The man, Behold Chablis, raised his eyebrows, reaching where Brianna stood. “You know, you’re not that bad of a witch. You’ve got all of them actually focused.”

“Is that a compliment?” Brianna glanced sideways, the corners of her mouth quirking up. “That is surprising from you.”

Behold tilted in head in acknowledgement. “I have high standards, as we all should have. But you have proven yourself worthy. Don’t get big headed about it, you witches already have the higher ground.”

“I suppose we do.” She flickered her eyes back to where the car left, furrowing her eyebrows. “Where is he going?”

Ariel Augustus has been fine since she arrived. Not particularly welcoming or friendly, but just fine. But something was definitely off, she couldn’t place it but she preferred to avoid him when she could.

He didn't mind or seem to even notice her avoidance. Which was odd when she was supposed to be a guest of honour, hailing from the most esteemed academy where the current Supreme resided, even if there was still an essence of rivalry.

Respect was important.

“That’s private warlock business.” Behold held her gaze, giving a small shrug. “But, since you seem like an acceptable person, I’ll let you in.”

The two moved away from the boy, asking them to stop their magic and discuss or write notes on the lesson, which made them all split into groups and head their way back downstairs.

“Ariel’s found another warlock, alerted to us by the police. He’s had a few issues, we’ve been told but he shows clear signs of magic. Our dear chancellor is enthusiastic about the boy, and says that he feels he will bring greatness to our academy.”

“And what do you think?”

Behold, who had been walking alongside her stopped. “I think he’s just another warlock, talented but nothing more. We already have our solid level three’s, no need for more.”

“Do you feel threatened?” Brianna crossed her arms, twinkling amusement in her eyes.

Most of the level threes and instructors held their position close to their heart and also their egos, as many men do. Power was important and people will cling onto it with their strength.

“No, my dear.” He continued the walk, flicking away a fly that was buzzing near them. “But, John Henry feels cautious about him. He doesn't know what it will mean to the coven if they have another rise to the seats.”

“Well, maybe, he’ll just be a decent warlock. He’ll probably need help if he has ended up in trouble with the authorities. It’s not safe for witches or warlocks running out of control with magic, the normal people think it odd and then decide their fate, usually not good.”

The elevator dinged, sliding open.

Behold followed her inside, quickly casting an extra level of protection to the already there barrier of the school. The instructors do this every time they venture out and then back in.

This had been a lingering habit, descending from the unfortunate past of the academy, needed for keeping any aspiring arsonists or curious strangers out of their sanctuary.

“We’ll soon find out.”

______________________________

It seems that finding a cure, or just any solution to a specific problem could take ages. Words and words. Letters, commas, apostrophes, brackets. Books were filled with these. And not many answers.

The pile of books to the right of Brianna certainly held no real help. She had given up after the latest paragraph had turned to mush. There was plenty of information for varying snake bites, tips for gone-wrong resurrections and a strange amount of actual soup recipes.

Brianna was now on her back on the ground, eyes on the ceiling where it was enchanted to show the night sky. But it was calm, too calm for her liking.

“So, what do warlocks do for fun around here?”

John Henry Moore, at his desk, a lengthy grimoire in his hand flickered his eyes to hers, his own research finding no succession, but interesting spells nonetheless. “Whatever we feel like. If you want to have a day trip, I’m sure that can be arranged, you know you aren’t stuck here.”

“I know.” Brianna twisted to the side. “Any news from the newcomer?”

A book was shut carefully, minding the spine. “He’s on his way here. Apparently he impressed our dear Chancellor enough to secure a spot.”

Brianna scoffed as she sat up against the nearest wall, half-rolling her eyes.

The Hawthorne academy, new to her knowledge, was actually quite selective in their warlocks, in a way that was absolutely stupid. They rejected tons of people, based on their abilities at the first meeting, only wanting superior powered warlocks to join their “private” intuition.

She’d read many accounts where the contents of enrollments had a detailed explanation of what had happened and why the offer had been rescinded.

Unlike here, her own academy had a more open approach, preferring to let one discover themselves and their magic as they grow, rather than an immediate great result. All in all, another way that one could argue that witches did have more of a stature above warlocks

“Ariel arrives back tomorrow, so we’ll have to keep this…” John Henry motioned to the books around them. “More silent.”

“He’ll probably kick me out the moment he arrives. His distaste of witches is not exactly subtle. Now he’s got another new warlock to fawn over, he’ll forgo the point of this alliance and send me packing.”

John Henry shook his head, a frown replacing his solemn expression. “No, he won’t. He needs the alliance between our academies. Otherwise, his reputation will fall to tatters. Plus, you’ve been helpful for the boys, they enjoy your open field lessons and they’ve always read about witches in terms of superiority, so it's nice to have one in our midst.”

Brianna leant to the side, an eyebrow raised. “Hm.”

“And you are appreciated by some of the tutors, myself included. Behold is even fond of you, and that is very rare.”

“If you were trying to raise my confidence, you succeeded. And it’s nice to know you aren’t absolutely hating helping me with this.”

He tapped on the books close to him. “When I say, myself and Ariel are different people, I mean it. I appreciate our Supreme and all she does. You are no exception. And I don’t think you need too much help with confidence, sweetheart.”

Brianna shrugged, a smug smile sneaking up. “At least, I’ve gotten better at dealing with it all. You’d never know when I’m hurting.”

“Right, well.” He hesitated, offering guidance was not his forte. “That’s not a solution, but I know you can handle it for now.”

“I suppose.”

A small snowglobe from the corner of the room levitated up and zoomed towards the brunette. It tumbled in the air delightfully, landing gently in her outspread hands.

Her eyes closed, mouth muttering an incantation quickly. “And, it means any small amount of magic doesn’t affect me that much.”

She sent the globe forward a few inches, enough for John Henry to see.

Inside, instead of the quaint cottage with the rustic pine trees and delicate snow, there was a storm, thrashing around the translucent sphere, wild and powerful, declaring its ownership of the ornament.

“Those who underestimate witches, will find themselves lost and wanting. But, those who don’t, will find freedom.”

John Henry felt a chill down his spine, her words had sounded a few worlds away, an eerie definition that spoke of truth.

Brianna let the globe find its way up to his desk, turning back to the previous vision it held. “It’s not a competition, so it’s stupid to offer a challenge.”

She cleared her throat, meeting his stare. “I think I’m well past done with the research tonight. Goodnight.”

Brianna shook off the weird feeling that hung around her, offering an awkward wave of goodbye to the man before retreating to the hallway.

She strolled her way to the elevator, which had a monitored system at night.

“Harton.”

At the top, she found a giggle bursting out of her, unbidden but welcome.

“Now, that is ironic.”

Rain was streaming down, pelting the dry sand violently. Thunder rumbled across the fields, the earth ensuring it made itself clear and heard. And as she tilted her head back to feel it on her skin.

A spidery vein of lightning struck down to the right side, further up the path.

It was fucking storming and that was brillant.

She held her arms out to the side, gathering her own power, mirroring the strike that happened moments ago but moved it just a little bit away from the original spot, careful of the proximity to herself.

Then another, then another.

Brianna, a bright grin on her face, walked to each destination that the strike had hit, finding the engraving of her magic before it faded.

A dusting of purpley red fragments, twinkling amongst the tedious sand.

Brianna wasn’t sure what the future would hold but she knew she'd make her mark on it somehow, however fleeting it would be.

She stayed a moment, exceedingly ecstatic.

Storms felt so close to her heart, it was like nothing else mattered, like she was alone but she was powerful and in control.

Brianna always loved them when she was younger. Watching by the window had never been enough, she had felt called to be in them, to absorb their mystical chaos.

She was often told off by her parents, one was worried she would become sick as the cold would be too much to bear, while the other would just prefer the safety that the indoors would bring.

But it never brought her any harm, it only enveloped her like a familiar, comforting embrace, with devoted loving energy that uplifted her own magic, rolling off of her in waves.

Deep magenta particles sprouted from the ground, bouncing from where her magic had faded and floated off into the wind, on its own clear path. She’d never seen that before.

Brianna reached out for the essence of her magic, leaning into the feeling but it had already arrived at where it was pulled to.

She let it go, stepping back into the energy of the storm, thunder rumbling deeply at her returned presence.

Chapter Text

From a storm, to absolute sweltering sunshine, the day juxtaposed to the previous one, offering a buffet of options for the outside world.

Somehow the fires within the academy were still mind-numbingly blaring flames, day to day, non-stop. It was like they had to just burn away the bad vibes or the potential stench of male ego.

Brianna missed the cool breeze that flourished throughout Miss Robichaux’s, either by magical or meandering weather, it cleared the mind in a satisfying way, whereas the heat here just melted horrendously into your skin.

She had woken by the morning bell, usually rung at 8:30 every weekday, then 10am on Saturdays and Sundays. It signaled breakfast in the lower dining rooms and the commencing of classes in an hour's time.

Anxious boys always ran around, scrambling to the tables or perfecting the look of their ensemble, the usual fancy Hawthorne blazer and trousers, a prim white button up underneath.

She, however, had a very lax routine and she could pick whatever she wanted to wear. She taught a few classes here and there, skimmed the entire library by now and sat in on other classes.

Now at midday, the academy had sounded another ring of the bell, this time thrice rung. The return of the Grand Chancellor, to be welcomed back by the tutors and students, as befits his status.

It’s a bit tacky. A bit egotistical.

But here Brianna stands, next to the bookshelves, away from the main group of warlocks. She wore her favourite blood-red, velvet square-necked top, fitted black trousers and her trusty heeled boots.

She had to represent the witches well, why not also in style and with confidence.

John Henry nodded from his place in the middle, then tilted his head back to the arch-way, where footsteps were making themselves heard.

“I’d like you all to meet Michael.” Ariel announced, stepping through. A boy trailed after him, a cautious approach.

And just like that, a whipping jolt of shivers shot up Brianna’s spine, toasty warm, caressing her skin.

But there was no sign of any spell cast, no altered look from anyone in the room.. He didn’t even look her way. Nor did the man beside.

Be it unintentional or a warning, she did not know.

Just lingering tingles, toasty warm, caressing her back.

The warlock, with relaxed curly hair, an all-black outfit, well-versed to fit in the academy, stood taut, an edge of anxiety etched in his expression, not one for substantial social gatherings.

And attractive. She had to admit it, if only to herself.

Intense eyes that grew curious at the coming together of magical minds.

He was bruised on one side of his face, non-magical she assumes. She hopes that he’s not some troublemaker, that would not make for a suitable warlock for Hawthorne. They wouldn’t allow that.

“Like many of us when we first arrived, he’s not sure that this is the place for him. But in the days to come, we’re going to show him that not only is this the only place he belongs..”

Michael shifts to the side, eyes ahead at the warlock group as Ariel turns his head back to him, placing a hand on his shoulder in confident reassurance. “But he's finally found his true home.”

Brianna tilted her head, focusing on the older of the two stood before them.

Ariel seemed desperate. She could see it in his eyes each time he directed them at Michael.

How could this one boy have done that had inspired him

Burnt a forest down? Bring a cemetery all back from the dead? Ask him politely to join the academy?

Whatever was, the reaction from the other tutors was complexly mixed.

Behold was analysing the boy while John Henry appeared to avoid looking at the boy at all, fidgeting with a square-shaped object in his pocket,

Baldwin seemed happy enough, he always had a heavy amount of trust in the Grand Chancellor, a welcoming smile perched on his own face.

Then the poor boy was pushed into the warlock gathering, to be welcomed, to be analyzed, and to be the first to make a new ally if one should choose that path.

Brianna stood to the side, in what she assumed was her rightful place here if Ariel had anything to do with it. Off to the side. Hidden from view,

It wasn’t too long before she had her own company, John Henry joining her side, a nod to her in greeting. Brianna noted that he didn’t shake or acknowledge the newcomer like the others.

“Not a fan, already? That was quick.” Brianna chirped, staring firmly ahead.

John Henry shook his head. “I don’t think this is the right choice for the academy. He’s…I don’t know. He’s not the solution to anything we need for here.”

“And you need solutions? Is there something wrong?”

He hesitated, chancing a glance around. “The Grand Chancellor seems to think there is. He’s been restless lately, relentlessly searching for something. It looks like he believes he’s found it.”

Brianna leant to the side, feeling sorry for Michael, currently in a who was in a no doubt seemingly endless conversation with Baldwin, a soon to be tutor of his. He always found a way to keep a conversation going, even at the expense of those who just wanted to leave.

She knew this all too well. He was well-meaning but a little unaware. And she felt like she ran out of words to say quickly in his presence. Or she just got bored, lightning fast.

Ariel nearby, watching, listening to any reply that came from Michael’s lips.
She shared a look with the warlock beside her. “What did he do?”

“Arrested for a violent act against a butcher, apparently in aid of his grandmother. Then in custody, which was captured on video, he used a levitation spell to pin an officer up and…part him with his head.”

“Oh.”

Brianna meets the recently arrived warlock’s eyes from across the room. He held her stare for a mere moment, drawn back to the clinging crowd.

He didn’t seem evil. A little troubled, yes.

“Was he aware of his powers? Or they only sparked up recently?”

John Henry shook his head. “I have no idea. My theory is that it was demonic possession and not anything we had to deal with. Ariel pushed for him to be enrolled.”

And then the tutor left her side, following Behold into the next room.

Brianna decided now would be an appropriate time to make introductions. A thought shared when her movement propelled Ariel to remember she was still in his academy.

“Ah, yes. Michael, I would like you to meet our esteemed guest of honor, Brianna Harton. She was sent to us from Miss Robichaux’s Academy, another school that offers a place, only for witches.”

Michael took this information with a quick nod, taking all of her in. From her soft-looking brunette hair to her light cerulean eyes.

“Esteemed? I’m pleasantly surprised. I was sure you were all sick of me by now.” Brianna, smirk visible, eyes challenging. She was a proud witch, and one under the guidance of the fucking Supreme.

Ariel's eyes flared but he relaxed his shoulders. “Nonsense. It has been a wonderful pleasure to have you.”

Unbothered by the tension, Michael held out his hand.

Brianna looked down and then back up. A small smile met her for a moment. And she decided to accept the hand.

“It’s nice to meet you, Michael.” Brianna’s eyes level with his own, holding firm.. “I hope the academy will fit your needs.”

“Oh, I am certain that it will.” Ariel answered for him, patting the boy on the back. “We’ll be taking him through some tests tomorrow, to find out what level he would match with.”

“Match with? Don’t all warlocks start from scratch and work their way up?”

Ariel grinned. “He’s already proven himself enough. He’ll soar through the tests, I’m sure.”

“...If you say so.”

Ariel was shaking, not with nerves but with excitement. With certainty. It was seriously freaking her out. He hadn’t shown any kind of passion or excitement towards anything since she had been here. She thought it was his nature and lack of simple empathy.

Michael, this time, spoke for himself, gently tightening his grip on her . “It’s nice to meet you. I’ll try my best at what I have to do.”

Brianna glanced back at their hands, acknowledging his statement and promptly dropped it., before excusing herself, following the path that the other tutors had made, to the main library room.

She met the two, differing moods emanating for either. Behold, a thoughtful look, as he flicked through an old book, to his right sat John Henry, wisps of smoke lifting from the cigarette at his lips, lips already chewed in a worried manner.

__________________

She had another dream.

It was in a strange, eerie place. Desolate and void of any living souls. The earth shattered, groaning out for thirst, for substance. But dry, starving, necrotic doom met its call.

Mist flew in, whispers of the possibilities, of what came before and what was now.

A howling laugh broke through the silence.

Brianna, moving slower than she knew her physical self could do, took off in its direction. She needed to see. To know. What would survive in this dead land. How would a single soul grasp their own humanity and sanity with their own solitary hands.
A figure stood in the centre of a would-be forest, the leaves non-existent, branches thin, one touch away from ash. A hood to cover their face.

“Do you want this?” They asked, hands out to the world.

Brianna choked on the ash that rose, falling a few steps back. She replied once she could find herself again, spitting out the traces of cinders.

“Who could possibly want this?”

“Someone below. It is their request. I was seeing how you would fare in this result.”

A gust of wind swam into the forest, bringing down several branches.

“No. I would never want this. There is nothing.”

The figure moved towards her, pausing three steps away. “Nothing? There is everything. Open your eyes, Brianna. You’ll find it. If not now, then someday.

Brianna shook her head, “Then I’ll condemn it. This is not something I want.”

“Open your eyes, Brianna.”

She met the wooded ceiling of her temporary bedroom, the warmth replacing the lonely cold that lingered from the dream.

The morning bell followed, two chimes for the beginning of the day, which passed by slowly, each hour of lessons dragging on.

Her heart soared once it reached the end of lunch, as that signalled her personal study could start. She, instead of attending classes, had been assigned her own assignment where she could pinpoint on one of her specialities, write in detail and display both the theory and practical aspects of it.

She hauled herself, writing equipment, snack supplies and all, up to the top, the soft glow of the afternoon sun, a welcome breeze floating across the way, soothing her as she created a place, at the side of the entrance facade, to set up.

She thanked the Supremes before and after, for the empty space and lack of males around.

Grimories flickered open, textbooks with their scribbles lay flat, awaiting the pen. Brianna added to her ever-growing thesis, highlighting the personal connection she, her powers and her own emotions had towards one another, an anchor for her worries and a pathway away from pain, as the universe deemed her capable of at least one thing.

Brianna sat criss-cross, pens flung to the side once enough had filled the pages for the day, hands held up, conjuring a storm in the sphere.

A grey background with a sprinkle of water, a slow flashing of lightning strikes and practiced, serene thunder, not violent but melodious.

It sang to her like her mothers would often do before she drifted away at night, their siren-esque voice pulling her closer and closer to the cloud-soft edges of sleep.

Her mind held, eyelids gently together as she began to hum, harmonising to the tune of the peaceful tempest.

Something, a far trace of foreign energy tapped on the outer edges, not breaking in but watching, unfamiliar but observant. It circled from the crying clouds to the damp earth of the miniature ground, held above herself.

And within seconds, it departed, satisfied with its analysis of what lay inside.

Brianna collapsed her hands, the sphere blinking out into sheer nothingness.

That was enough for today, uninvited visitors and all.

The academy had grown quiet by now, the fall of night on its way, silent study hours or personal time had arrived.

Brianna only passed a few of the warlocks, all nodding in acknowledgment. At least they appreciated her presence here, she had introduced a softer kind of magic, intertwined with supportive teaching.

The Grand Chancellor took up the main office, the door sliding open the minute she stood aside the door, beckoning her inside.

“Miss Harton. Take a seat if you will.”

Brianna, eyebrow lifted, flopped down onto the furthest seat, fiddling with the ring on her third finger, a green-jewelled butterfly, that matched to Mallory’s purple. It glowed for a few seconds in response.

“You are wondering what I planned for this meeting, I suppose.”

Brianna blinked, a plain face reflected at him.

“...Well, I thought that you might want to return to your academy, given that you have spent enough time away, considering your past indiscretion.”

“Are you trying to tell me I’m welcome back into the fold from my fellow witches?”

Not that was ever unwelcome, though it seems that Ariel had thought so. He devoured the essence of rivalry and uneven energy.

“I want you to feel at home, so where better, than at home.”

Ariel could not lay his distaste for her any clearer, or his dislike that witches held a greater power over warlocks, she was just the scapegoat for his prejudice.

“Did Miss Cordelia call me back?”

His eyes flickered to the door, a sigh escaping him. “No. But I assume it will be in due time. I’ve asked Tutor Pennypacker to organise your trip home, your bodyguard included.”

The man mentioned, Culnis, who in the first few days had been close to her, and ensuring both her comfort and safeguard, had been told by someone to make himself scarce or at least not involve himself in everything, lest he be a spy for the witches, channeling information back to them.

In truth, Culnis couldn’t have thought of anything more ridiculous. But he had stayed close to his room, checking on the brunette when he could, and, as promised, brought her some of her favourite foods unprompted but very welcomed.

“Ah, so banished to where you think I was banished from. Clever.”

“Miss Harton, It’s not a banishment. I simply feel you have gleaned all you need from our school and that you truly should be on your own. No harsh feelings, just a simple truth.”

Brianna shrugged, tapping her ring again. “Well then, truth be told, I am very grateful to be heading back. I’ll go pack my belongings.”

“It won’t be for a few days. Goodnight, Miss Harton.”

Brianna, who had reached the door, turned to him and gave a short nod, the door rolling open quickly.

Intense blue eyes met her as she stepped out to the outer room. It was the new warlock, standing straight and just, looking at her.
“Hi.” She offered, glad the door behind was now shut.

“Hello.” He answered in reply, not moving one bit.

Brianna tilted her head at him. She couldn’t quite work him out. Or what he was to the academy.

“Why are you the only witch here?”

Oh.

Michael had gone straight for the obvious answer, whether by curiosity or awkwardness.

Brianna let out a chuckle, moving away from the room behind. “I had a little incident at my usual place. Nothing too bad, but enough for me to come here for a little…time away. But, I think this place needed a little witch energy. It’s just a bit too dank and dark, you know?”

Michael seemed to take a while to process this. He moved in with her now. “Do you feel unwelcome?”

The brunette, on the lounge nearby, warmed by the fire. The scent of petrichor is far away now. “I expected it. Warlocks and witches have not had a solid ground in years.”

“Why?”

Brianna met his eyes again. “Do you really want to know?”

Michael nodded, standing a respectable distance from her, brows furrowed. “Yes, I do.”

“Okay, then.” She crossed her arms, sinking into the cushions “Witches, technically, are superior to warlocks, not in a harmful or horrible way but our approach to magic is more attuned to how it needs to be held. We embody the essence of magic more so than the men. And it helps that, the most powerful of us all, the Supreme, has spanned centuries of being witches.”

The fire crackled, the ashes landing just before the grate, a protective field guarding the flames from the floor.

“That’s basically it.” She added when he didn’t reply.

Michael, another quick nod given, took a step forward. “I understand. But do you think that will even change? Ariel seemed to think it could.”

“Did he now?” She scoffed, not at all surprised by that admission. “But I honestly don’t. It’s intricately sewn in the ways of our world. If it were to change, I’d hope for equal power and success, not one over the other.”

“That seems fair.”

Brianna hummed in agreement, closing her eyes.

The two stayed in silence until Culnis came to escort her back to her rooms, two slices of pumpkin pie for them to enjoy before he would return to guarding her door for the night time hours.

Brianna glanced down at her hands, the emerald bug glowing twice, one after the after. She tapped it twice in response before delving into her bed-covers.

Chapter Text

“Here’s surpassing all expectations that Ariel set.” John Henry spat, chucking his cigarette into the sand and heeling it into the ground.

Brianna, below him, held two ice-cold tubes, one in each hand. This was another idea of cooling her down to see if it would absorb some of her issues. Through a spell, she would channel a part of the darker parts to flow into the tubes, sealing them there.

“That’s good, isn’t it? A happy Ariel equals a less reckless Ariel. A win for us and any other witch school.”

She peeked open an eye, in the middle of her spell, to see if there was anything in the tubes. There wasn’t.

The tutor scoffed, starting to begin a pace, kicking up sand particles in doing so. “He’s reckless no matter what, just in more cunning ways. And this…boy just isn’t quite right. It doesn’t seem natural. I don’t believe him.”

Ariel had been testing Michael in the prior month, taking him through experiments and testing the limits of his power. He was basically a trophy for him, a bragging right to any witches he would come across next. In a weird way, that meant he was too distracted to send her back, which John Henry had been grateful for, as he valued the witch’s company.

Brianna had passed by Michael many times. They’d share a few looks but she couldn’t seem to talk to him, out of her own doubt and the fact that he was never alone, always surrounded by another warlock or being paraded around by the other tutors.

“Have you tried to talk to him? Michael, I mean. It can’t be easy to be dealing with-” Brianna motioned around them, to the school structure and themselves, jolting the tubes with it. “And Ariel isn’t exactly guardian material. I can definitely vouch for that.”

John Henry shook his head, casting a look to the black walls. He’d felt unwelcome since the boy had arrived. The walls no longer felt like home. It wasn’t even just him, the tension has risen amongst all the tutors, their importance to Ariel was fracturing, which had always kept them in his good books. Not that he had ever graced those pages.

Brianna interrupted his thoughts. “Someone should talk to him?

I think Behold has. He didn't divulge much though.” John Henry halted in his paces. “You should talk to him.”

Brianna, stopping the spell, dropping the tubes stood up. “Absolutely not. I don’t know the guy. I mean, we know of each other. But I don’t really trust any of the warlocks that much, especially those under the guise of Ariel.”

He held her stare, not blinking. “No, but he would listen to you. He already knows witches have a lot of power. And he might prefer a more nurturing conversation.”

Brianna narrowed her eyes. “Nurturing? Not all women have that trait, you know. Plus, I..I don’t I particularing am.”

He leant down to her, keeping a distance. “Fine, but it’s worth a try. I’ll persuade Ariel to let Culnis join some of the lectures if you do.”

The brunette pursed her lips, weighing up the offer. “Okay. I’ll talk to him. But I’ll have Culnis nearby if we get into any trouble.”

John Henry nodded, standing back up to his full height, gesturing at her. “Now again.”

Brianna collected the tubes, holding them straight out, the cool of the glass against her wrists. “Lucis arcesse. Summonmoon, Vocate plenam runarum. “Lucis arcesse. Summonmoon, Vocate plenam runarum.”

A hum sounded from above, urging her on. She felt the elements of the sun and moon ruminating around, essence spinning to the points surrounding her, and she focused on it when the ache leaked in, pushing that to the angle of the tubes.

“That’s it. I can see the essence in the containers, the ice is melting off them quickly. Again.”

““Lucis arcesse. Summonmoon, Vocate plenam runarum.”

Brianna felt it herself and grinned widely. She didn’t need another prompt to continue. ““Lucis arcesse. Summonmoon, Vocate plenam runarum. “Lucis arcesse. Summonmoon, Vocate plen-shit.”

The glass vials split in half, one shattering quickly after, pieces lost in the sand. She felt the poisonous ache roll up her arm, travelling further than it had before, reaching her neck. The veins there bulged, spreading black inky liquid within them.

Brianna’s body flew to the side, her body shaking and each muscle and tendon snapping with tenseness. She began to choke on what felt like nothing, her own veins closing in on her neck. She gargled out some words each more unintelligible than the last.

John Henry was on the ground with her, holding her up, hands flowing with several healing spells to ease the suffering. But none were specific enough to release the hold her curse had on her.

He shut his eyes, frustration blooming brightly. More utterances of spells were heard but Brianna could only see blurry, almost night-like visions of the world.

And she felt hands lift her up, feeling like she was floating as they took her away to another place. A few long moments later, a thousand dull blinks and spasms of pain, the sun was gone and the sweat, often caused by the heat of the interior of the school, began.

Brianna registered she was on a table, a fireplace nearby, sweat dripping off her face, both from the heat and the energy spent trying to fight off this energy.

“I think she’s going to throw up.” A young warlock spoke up in worry, stepping back from the table.

“Find Behold. Or get Ariel. Now.” John Henry commanded, sending the boy on his way. He summoned a cold compress, holding it down on Brianna’s head. “Brianna, if you can hear me, please try to focus on the cold. You can have control. You are stronger than this, and you know it.”

Brianna murmured in reply, her own hand, covered in pinching pains, reached up to the other side of the compress, pressing it into her own head, wincing at the pain.

“May I?” A voice spoke from behind John Henry, who jumped at the interruption, he hadn’t noticed him come into the room.

He wasn’t to refuse. He didn’t need some silly warlock trying to help him, a tutor with a great reputation. But one look back at Brianna had him stepping back. He was desperate.

At first, she had been a connection to the witches, a symbol that Cordelia trusted him and held him in high regard, something that he held close to his heart. But then, they spent more time and grew a bond that even Behold had commented on.

“I never expected you to be the father type. But with her, you seem protective and you actually trust her. According to certain perspectives. Mine. it’s hard to earn your trust. It’s nice to see.”

And if anyone knew him more than himself, it was Behold Chablis. And those words struck true. She had become something to him. Someone he wanted to help. If not for the coven, then for her.

He held his breath when Michael took up his previous position.

John Henry was equal parts furious and stunned.

Michael places his hands above Brianna, eyes shutting immediately as he silently pulled the strings of dark matter up and away from her body, hushing the pain alongside this.

He didn’t even utter a single spell. He didn’t react to any of the matters around him. He absorbed it, simply shaking the essence of, focused on his spell.

Brianna lurched forwards, gasping back in the air from the room. Her hands flinging to her neck, where the raised veins were now lowered red marks, in the shape of scars.

She met Michaels eyes, frowning at him. “What did you do!?”

Michael didn’t flinch at her raised voice, only making way for John Henry to reach her again, replying softly. “I helped you,”

Brianna felt hands at her arms and then at her neck, inspecting them for any harm or lingering magic. She nodded at him, stopping the hands and squeezing them, head turned to the tutor.

“I’m okay now.” Brianna chanced a look back at the warlock. “Michael helped me.”

Michael offered a shy, prideful smile, which was met with grateful eyes.

“Thank you.”

Brianna swung her legs to sit up, still a bit wobbly and in a dreamy state so John Henry held her shoulder, stabilizing her. He looked from her to Michael.

“How did you do that? I’ve never seen…”

Michael’s smile dropped. “As I said. I helped her.”

Then the chaos dispersed into the room. Some warlocks who had been watching from afar crept in, amazement clear in their expressions, but they rushed to the side as three older men swept through the hallway.

Ariel was immediately on them, demanding to know why he was called. John Henry, taking a moment to breath, explained the situation as Michael was not talking, just glancing curiously at Brianna who was in between returning those and shuffling further back, away from Ariel.

Behold stood by his side, hand reaching for his, stilling the shake in his own hand.

John Henry spoke first, voice shaking with his first words. “He just drew it out of her. I don’t know what spell it was. Or how he even knew how to do it.”

Ariel’s grimace flipped, beaming from ear to ear, clasping his hands together. “My prodigy.”

A small boy in the corner gained Brianna’s attention as he held up a unsure thumbs up, concern etched in his face. She smiled, nodding in reassurance which eased the boy’s expression.

He was one of the boys who had flourished under Brianna’s tutorage, preferring a, as John Henry would’ve put it, nurturing approach, which just involved kind words and reduced strictness.

Ariel shushed everyone in the room, now standing next to Michael. “Fellow warlocks, Michael has succeeded in many tests, now he will progress into the final stage of the level testing, to be done tonight. Tutors, ready yourself for the next meeting.”

Behold raised an eyebrow, joining the others in celebration, before turning his attention to Brianna. “How you feeling, little one?

Brianna, ignoring the past pain aches that remained, her body exhausted from the energy spent to fight the curse off. “Like a fried bird.”

The man chuckled, offering out his hand, and John Henry mirrored his movement. “We’ll take you to the infirmary.”

“That’d be nice.” Brianna heaved herself up from where she had leant on, looking back once to see Michael before the edge of the hallway. He was already staring at her, disregarding the crowd of warlocks around him.

Then, each was out of sight.

_____________________________________

Plates of now finished raspberry cheesecake sat upon the table in the corner of the spectacularly clean room.

Culnis was sitting cross-legged on an armchair next to the fireplace, legs propped up on a stool as Brianna spoke to him, from her place on the massive bed.

It had been a few days since the accident and she’d been forced into bedrest, mostly by both Culnis and John Henry Moore.

She was thankful for the rest and for her body to recuperate. But she was bored. And she wanted to see the sun again.

“So, your plan is just to talk to him? The mysterious, all-powerful, slightly terrifying new warlock? That sounds…” Culnis pondered, lips downwards, not totally loving that prospect.

He didn’t not like the guy. But he was weirdly intense. He had stared at him when they had crossed paths and it felt like Michael was trying to stare into his soul.

He had asked if the warlock was okay, but that just resulted in a firm nod, stalking back out and not much more. Culnis suspected he wasn’t much of a conversation type person. A man of few words.

“He’s interesting, for sure. But I don’t think he’ll have much of anything to relay back to you.”

Brianna chucked a pillow to the side of the armchair, mindful of the fire on the other side. “Not everyone can be as talkative as you. You’d chat to the damn walls if you could.”

Culnis picked up the pillow, placing it on his lap, leaning his head back. “And they’d have stories to tell. Do you know how many people I’d met and found out about their lives in New Orleans?”

Brianna put her head in her hands. “Like 80% of the population?”

The pillow met her side again, thrown back at her. Culnis grinned ahead, and nodded. “I’m a Gemini, what do you expect.”

The brunette reluctantly returned the expression, letting out a huff of annoyance as she let her head hit the soft bedding in front of her.

“You know.” Culnis continued. “I’d pin him as a Scorpio, maybe. Intense. Mysterious. Magnetic”

She lifted her head up. “Magnetic?”

“Hey, personality aside, you have to admit there’s something about him. Maybe it’s the power. Ariel likes him enough to show loyalty his way.”

Culnis pulled his legs from the stool, raising up from his seated position. “Alright, my sweet Taurus. If you want to talk to him, then talk. I won’t be far away if you need me.”

Brianna, already in her clothes for the day, followed him to the door.

“If he turns you into a squirrel, I’ll try my best to find acorns for you. Unfortunately, no more raspberry cakes if that happens.”

Brianna held her hand by her heart, in mock concern. “How will I ever survive?”

Culnis took off down the hall, back on his way to the lower rooms, where he was allowed to sit in on some lessons.

And she took the other way, across the connected landings, and down the grand staircases.

The illuminating glow met her eyes as she roamed the many rooms and hallways of the academy until she reached the final one, three doors at the end of it, reserved for students of high caliber.

The knock sounded loud in the quiet of this corner of the academy.

Icy blue irises came into her visions, warming to her appearance. “Hello.”

“Hi.”

Michael frowned, glancing back into his room and back to Brianna. “Did you need something? I don’t think I had any lessons today. Or did Ariel send you?”

Brianna pursed her lips, leaning from one foot to the other, taking a deep breath for confidence.

“Can we talk?”

Michael opened the door wider, turning to his desk, where there was a scattering of papers, pen and small magical objects. “Sure. Come in. If you want to.”

Brianna found herself staring at his desk, avoiding eye contact, focusing on his room seemed easier than focusing on him.

“You like drawing?” She queried, a few sketches catching her eye. She picked one up, touching the lines of it.

“Not particularly.” Michael watched her. “I just feel drawn to do it sometimes.”

Brianna dropped it gently back down, smoothing out her shirt, even if magically spelled to reduce any wrinkled fabric. Another one fell into her vision.

It was simple but messier than the others. A tall, darkly shaded gate, towering over every other detail of the sketch. But around it, the flowers and trees were all dead, fallen animals lay beneath them. A grey wispy smoke lingered in the background.

“Does this one have a name yet?”

Michael frowned, tilting his head to see the sketch she was referring to. “I don’t name my sketches. I never thought to.”

Brianna looked over her shoulder, mirroring his expression. She thought all artists would’ve titled their artworks, it seemed an obvious thing to do. At least to her.

“What would you name it?” Michael asked, closing the distance to stand aside her, re-inspecting his own work. “If you could?”

Brianna traced the mist upon the paper, scaling the middle of the picture.

“The perished land.”
Michael hummed, amused by the sentiment. “Fascinating.

Brianna looked up, the amusement glistening in his eyes, sparking a laugh from her. “It’s just…the trees are rotted, the animals are dead and there’s not a detail of life in it. Just a sad, apocalypse of sorts.”

He, blond hair bouncing slightly, crossed the room to his bed and picked up a book.

Brianna straightened up, worried she had offended him. “Oh, but it is lovely. Nice detail.”

Michael raised his eyebrows and passed the book to her. It was a small bottle-green book, the embroidered title reading as ‘The Life and Death of Flora and Fauna’.

“Ah. The inspiration, I assume.”

Michael nodded, placing the book back down when handed back. He turned back, she was avoiding his stare again. “What was it you wanted to talk about?”

Brianna came back to herself, pulled her hands together. “Oh, yes. That’s right. I wanted to ask how you were doing..with, you know, everything.”

“Everything?”

“The powers, the academy, everything that Ariels making you do…”

Michael took a moment for himself, glancing at the floor. Brianna balanced on one foot, then the other again.

“I think fine.” He admitted, truthfully. “It’s a lot of information and all, but I’m liking the process. The tests aren’t that hard and the food is decent.”

Brianna stepped forward, causing him to lift his head. “How long has it been since you’ve seen the sun?”

Michael, perplexed by the question, didn’t answer, just blinked at her.

She gestured around to the sketches, the books, the plethora of rune drawings in the corner and then to him.

“I’m sure Ariel’s kept you quite busy. He’s focused all his attention on you, which by the way, has pissed off the other tutors, but anyway, when have you last been outside?”

Michael found the answer, not bothered by the obvious mess of his room.

“I don’t particularly think I need to venture outside. Ariel says we have everything we need in the academy.”

Briana clapped her hands. “Alright, enough about Ariel. We’re heading up because you clearly need some sun and time away from would-be dictators. Capiche?”

The perplexity returned. “Ca-what?”

“You. Me. Out in the sunshine. We’ll find something to do. There’s more to the world than just magic and fire-lit hallways.”

“Okay.”

Brianna met him with surprise. She wasn’t actually sure he was up for an excursion of sorts. But she felt it was needed, given the state of his room and the content of the sketches.

“Alright, put your sunscreen on and I’ll see you up the top.” Brianna directed, a little nervously, leaving him to his own devices until then.

_____________________________________

A sizable, matte black SUV pulled up in the shady parking lot outside of an ice-creamery. The bright, swirling patterns and funky font of the shop stood out in the secluded area, a half and hour drive from the academy.

“Have fun, you two. I’ll wait here until you need to return.”

Culnis, in the front seat, grinned, two thumbs up at the younger two, both on either side on the middle seats, buckled up safely. He had double-checked that before leaving, as two things were the utmost importance to him.

Conversations and safety. And he’d only achieved one of them for the whole car ride.

The doors unlocked and flung open of their own accord. Culnis winked at Brianna through the side mirror, as she gently closed the door, and then went to the front. She produced a credit card, holding it to him.

“Myrtle gave me a second one, just for safety. Go into the town and buy yourself some nice things, I know you’ve missed retail therapy.”

Culnis snapped the card up with a smug grin. “Why thank you. I’ll be on my way then. Stay safe.”

“We will.” Brianna watched as he drove away, attention then given to Michael, motioning to the doors of the ice-creamery.

“Let’s head inside. You can have whatever you want, I’m paying.”

Michael, who had only just turned back around from where Culnis left, took this time to take in the shop. It wasn’t some place that was familiar. But he followed her in, nonetheless.

Bright candy-floss pink walls with butter yellow stripes met them, uneven black and white checkered flooring with scuffs and stains, long worn, adorned the ground. Michael looked up to see a lady, bored in the corner on her phone, clicking through it.

Rows and rows of differently coloured soft-looking creams, some plain, some with toppings and some mixed with other colours or dessert-type fillings.

Brianna held her hand to the glass covering the trays inside, eyes scanning down them. She tapped against the glass, and sighed in relief. “Perfect!”

Michael followed her gaze. ‘Chocolate Raspberry Ripple.’

“What is this?”

Brianna whipped back, eyes wide. “What is this? Michael Langdon, have you never been to heaven?”

Michael shook his head. “No. I don’t think I’d be welcome there”

Brianna pulled her head back. “Huh? Oh, whatever. Michael meet delicious dessert. Ice cream, a nice way to cool off on hot days or just a lovely snack to have everyday if you can.”

Michael took a closer look. He was overwhelmed by the amount of options. Who could possibly need this much. He wasn’t even sure what some of it even was.

‘Nutella Choc Chip Brownie Batter’. ‘Lemon Raspberry Meringue Swirl’. ‘Vanilla Chocolate Storm’.

Brianna strolled to the counter, attracting the cashier's attention, who quickly bounced in with an energetic mood . “Welcome to Rainbow Ride Ice Creamery, what can I scoop you for?”

“Hi! One scoop of Chocolate Raspberry Ripple for me please, in a cup. And for my….friend..”
Brianna looked down to Michael who was still looking at the selections available. “One second please. I’ll be back.”

Michael glimpsed her way, a serious face expressed which was strangely delightful to see. The powerful new warlock stumped by the idea of picking out an ice-cream flavour. “I don’t know what to choose.”

Brianna bobbed her head, inspecting the flavours again. “Alright. Do you like chocolate, or are you more of a fruity type person?”

“I like chocolate.” Michael confirmed, leaning forward to get a better view of the names. “My guardian used to buy me a lot of chocolate milk.”

“Great, well this is basically that but creamier, and more options for toppings. I’d suggest the ‘Chocolate Brownie Batter’ or the ‘Chocolate Sprinkle & Cookie Mix’.

He nodded, looking from one to the other until the decision had been made. “I’ll have the ‘Chocolate Sprinkle and Cookie Mix’.

The cashier eagerly accepted the order, placing the previous one on the counter and pointing to a display, as Brianna went to pay. “Cup or cone.”

Michael frowned, eyes sliding to where the other ice cream was. “Cup.”

“Coming right up.” The girl set up the machine before getting straight to scooping the second one, swapping the metal scoop.

Brianna picked the tiny spoons, purple for her and red for Michael. She leant against the door, pushing with her shoulder, one hand with the ice cream, the other with her wallet.

She skipped towards the side of the parking lot where a small park was located, three benches ready for people to sit at. Michael joined her there when she picked the one she wanted. Half covered by a shady tree while the sun shone on the other part.
She put her spoon in the cup after her first taste, relishing the sweet tartness of her favourite flavour. “You mentioned a guardian. Did you mean your mom or dad? Or…”

“No, Miss Mead. Her name was Miriam. She was the person who looked after me after I was…kicked out from my previous home.”

Michael took the spoon to his mouth, eyes widening. “This is amazing!”

“I told you. A blast of sugary sweetness to wash away your sorrows. The sunshine helps too.”

Brianna swirled the creamy dessert with the purple spoon. “What was she like? You seem fond of her.”

Michael looked thoughtful, finishing his third spoon of the treat. “She was the first person who really believed in me. She was nice to me, supported me, fed me and taught me about life.”

“She sounds wonderful. Sorry to hear about the kicking out part, was it due to magic things?”

Michael glanced at her fully, hesitating. “Uh, yes. They didn’t like it.”

Brianna nodded in agreement. “I know what you mean. I mean, my moms were totally good with the whole ‘witch’ thing but school was not a fun time whenever I happened to have a spell surge.”

“Did they bully you?”

“At school? Um, kind of. I was made to feel…very different from the others. But then I found Miss Robichaux’s and it felt right, even though I also had a moment with another witch there. It didn’t matter as much when I felt at home.”

Michael finished his ice cream, swiping the residue from his face. “I understand. People have always treated me differently. They expect something from me.”

Brianna reached her hand halfway across the table, tilting her head down. “You don’t have to be what they expect of you. You can make your own way in life. Fate can change.”

Michael, unsure of the appropriate response, let his hand find the top of hers. “Okay.”

He brought his hand back, twisting his spoon in the now empty cup. “Red is my favourite color. I like that you picked it”

Brianna shrugged, her own spoon void of any ice-cream. “Lucky guess. Mine’s purple.”

She hauled her legs up on the wooden bench, crossing her legs. She felt the sun pouring on her face, the afternoon wind picking up, sending a cool breeze throughout the small park.

“It’s good for the soul to experience the outside world, to see the weather and the seasons changing. Have you ever watched the entirety of a storm pass through?”

Michael glimpsed up at the sky, narrowing his eyes at the harsh beam of the sun. “No, but I assume that you have more than once?”

“Bordering on a thousand times, it seems. I like them a lot. They’re kind of my thing.”

Golden curls tumbled in the wind, a halo-like aura appearing around Michael's face, highlighting his sharp features and bright eyes. “You’ll have to show me some time.”
“Deal.” A warm shiver ran down her spine, making her shoulders shake. “But that may take some time.”

Michael noticed the subtle movement, reminding him of what happened the other day at the academy. He had heard the commotion from afar, his body pricking up to the inky call of chaotic power, and there she was, in need of help and shrinking further into the void of darker magic.

He didn’t like how it was affecting her. So, he used his magic to fix it. And that was all.

“What happened to you the other day?”

“I…” Brianna started, not expecting the change of topic, tucked a stray hair behind her ear.

Was her curse an okay topic to divulge? Should she keep it private in case he or the academy would use it against her. Or trust him?

He had helped her. She supposed that earned an explanation.

“I had an issue with a seemingly innocent book a few years ago. Turns out the book was cursed and ta da…yours truly, has a curse occupying her body.”

Michael motioned to her arms, now healed and back to normal. “I saw the dark matter, I managed to pull some of it out but it's still in you.”

Brianna felt her arms up and down, smoother than they had been in a while. She had felt better when she had chanced a spell to turn some lights on, only a shiver had come, not the aching pain that usually did.

In all honesty, her magic had come back a little rusty and weak. Brianna hadn’t wanted to come out of her room anyway because she felt even more unwanted at the academy if she couldn’t draw upon her powers at any moment.

Michael had zipped a fair chunk of the ill-suited magic from her veins like it was nothing, yet all efforts that Cordelia or John Henry had done were essentially naught.

She couldn’t help but feel a little silly about it all. He made it seem so easy, when everything towards it had been difficult. She’d keep the extent of it private, at least for now.

“Well, thank you…again.” Brianna scratched at the divots on the wooden table, averting her eyes. “I appreciate not being overridden by whatever would’ve happened if you hadn’t intervened. I don’t think Ariel would’ve wanted to help. Reluctantly maybe, I don’t think he’ll want to endure the wrath of my coven.”

Michael leaned closer, a small smile flickering with mischief.. “He has a collection of sheep figurines, you know? He keeps them in the top drawer of his desk.”

“What?” Brianna shook her head in disbelief, hands solidly on the table now. “Are you being serious?”

Oh, she was telling Mallory about this. Finally a crack in their case of if Ariel had a heart, or even some semblance of compassion.

“I almost always am. But yes, he has thirty six of them, all different shapes and sizes.”

She erupted into giggles, trying to picture the man putting them all in a line and counting them all. “Did he show them to you?”

Michael shook his head, leaning back. “No.”

“So how did-?”

The blond warlock, curls flying again in the wind, grin deepening even further as he spoke. “I found them myself. I may be new and uncertain of some things. But I’m not stupid, and finding out more about others is useful.”

Brianna tried to stop the giggles, pushing into the bench harder, stomach starting to hurt from the sincere amusement. She just kept replaying the idea of him roleplaying with them, creating an army of sheep to wash away his woes.

She hiccuped, leaving a second for thought at his last words. So, he had a motive of his own? Or was just curious? She wanted to know.

“Useful for what though? Do you have a motive against the Grand Chancellor?”

Michael laughed to himself. “Not at the moment. Though I’ll let you know in the future.”

“What about me?” Brianna angled to face him fully again, blue meeting blue, a flurry of icicle and azure. “Has my information proven a useful motive yet?”

The deep smile returns, genuine rather than mischievous. “I haven’t decided yet.”

Brianna blinked at him. “Oh.”

The brunette took up her action of inspecting the table again, the empty cups in view. “Well, for starters, I introduced you to ice cream. That’s quite a worthy feat.”

Michael ducked his head, a chuckle escaping him. “Indeed.”

Chapter Text

A loud, deafening crack rang out across the dark night sky, littered with billions of stars, coercing a ripple to flow through and deliver a flurry of hastened rain to fall upon the earth. The golden shimmer of energy landed not far from the two who were staring up at the black flickering abyss.

Michael’s jaw was dropped, wide excited eyes taking in the wonder of the conjured storm. He hadn’t really thought about weather, much less what it truly looked like at its core. But it was beautiful. From deep sounds to the pressure of the earth folding to the path of change, rumbling out to the void and warning what was to come.

Then there was the rain. The cleansing, almost unpleasant but tolerable shower of water that drenched your every sense, muddling your thoughts and pulling you back down to the ground you stood upon. He thought it both powerful yet humbling, where the earth displayed it’s insistent strength, it also laid out plainly just how it could tear you down.

Brianna could see his face, even with the water slipping into her eyes, and it was magnificent to see. Innocence, it read. A moment of pure joy that reflected the person within, or who he could be.

She had seen it more than once, even if others laid a claim that his destiny was fraught with inconvenience.

John Henry had told her about the tests, that he had performed them to a high degree, even more so. And it scared him. Not in the ‘he’s more powerful than I’ way but in the way that he claimed would alter the course of present life, to its detriment.

But all she saw was a boy who wanted to see the good in the world, at least for this very moment.

Why did powerful magic equal dangerous tidings?

Brianna didn’t understand how quickly people were to place a life on another, disregarding the choices they may make and pigeonholing them.

She wasn’t destined to live an ultimately unfortunate life, she knew that. Shit, she decided that.

John Henry had warned her to be careful, so she would. But she wouldn’t just leave Michael out in the cold so the vultures of the world could gnaw at him, turning him into their weapon.

But she’d soon have to return to Miss Robichaux’s, and that would mean he would be alone here, under the watchful, ambitious guardianship of Ariel. And she was sure that the Grand Chancellor had his own plans for the boy, entirely for his own benefit and reputation.

Michael released a laugh as he felt the ground grumble beneath him. “That is awesome!”

Brianna lifted her hands up, spelling another strike to land a few miles from them, it sparked, bouncing on the dirt, like a pebble thrown upon a lake, one splash to another until it disappeared, along with the entire storm.

The quiet night sky returned, stars brighter than before.

Brianna stumbled back, a hand resting on the solid wall, pins and needles surfacing on her arms, pricking each vein as the misty curse surged through. She pulled her hand away and shook out her arms, willing it to numb down.

And it did, when Michael held both of her wrists, sending a warm wash of power through her, it fired through the veins and eased the effect of her curse.

Her eyes flickered up to his, letting out a deep breath. “Thank you. I’ll have to start paying you for how many times you help me.”

Michael shook his head, loosening his grip on her wrists. “I don’t want you to be in pain. And you’re my friend. I think that’s what they do, help each other. I’ve never had one but my previous guardian said that…?”

It had been a few days since the ice-cream excursion, Michael and her had interacted more than they had during the past month. They shared a few classes, pairing up when they could. She had taught him a few basics that were required of him, although he was already excelling at them and didn’t really need her help in that regard but he listened each time.

And he had joined her in her personal study, sitting with her, often in comfortable silence, as he was allowed to skip out on classes if he wanted to, courtesy of being a favourite of the head of the academy.

Brianna, even if it annoyed John Henry, gave him a couple of books that she thought might interest or help him, either magical topics or just normal fiction books that he might’ve never picked up but offer an escape from whatever one had going on.

Brianna, now steady and free of pain, pursed her lips with a nod, the two letting go of each other. Her shoulders fell, looking back up into cautious eyes. He looked like he didn’t know exactly what he was offering, or what friends really meant.

“Yeah, I think being friends is something we are. Saving my life definitely helped in that regard.”

Michael didn’t reply, eyes furrowing and he kept the serious, careful look on his face.

“Michael, yes, we are friends. I mean that.” Brianna promised, tapping him on the chin, interrupting his broody expression, cracking open a smile, still cautious yet relieved at the same time.

“Are you ready for tomorrow?” Brianna chanced a look at the sky as she asked the question. “You’ll be centerstage in the drama show of Ariel and Cordelia.”

Michael stepped away, wandering over to a different spot on the sand, the brunette following curiously.

Michael wasn’t sure how he felt about tomorrow. Ariel had said it would be a moment to look forward to, to show off his talent. He told Michael to be excited and to not worry about the visiting coven, as they were beneath him.

He didn’t care all that much about the idea of any of it. Truth be told, Michael wished he could talk to Ms Mead, to ask her what he should do and what his next steps should be.

But she was gone. And there wasn’t anyone he could confide in, or ask for advice. He’d have to settle for trying to prove that he was enough to get through whatever the witches or warlocks threw at him.

“I feel fine.” Michael shrugged, back turned away.

“Uh, okay. Well I am excited to see my sisters and hopefully be accepted back into the fold. At least, a certain someone won’t be there anymore.”

Brianna had told him about the reasons she was here in the first place, which had eventually led to the last incident that had taken place.

“We can still keep in contact when I leave. We can text, call and maybe meet up somewhere. Oh! We could astral project to one another, Mallory and I do it all the time.”
Brianna's lips turned up in a smile, hoping for the best then she stopped, raising her eyebrows.

“Wait! Don’t tell Ariel about that one. He probably wouldn’t approve of that. Nor would Cordelia, I think, It’s a little bit of a troubled subject at times but Mal has it all under control. She’s also very skilled in magic, maybe you two would get along as well. You’re both so well-versed in magic, it comes naturally, I’m almost envious. You-”

Michael spun, cutting off her ramble. “Almost? But you aren’t?”

Brianna closed her mouth, shaking her head before answering. “No. It would be exciting to be able to do that but I appreciate what I have. Plus, Mal is my best friend, and I’m honoured to be by her side. And, you, well, I like seeing you cast, and I don’t feel a need to be more powerful than others, in terms of magic.”

He gave a short nod, accepting the answer as sufficient and turned back around. “I don’t know if you are worried about anything, Michael, but you’ll be okay.

As if summoned to close off the night, honest rain started to trickle down, sending both Michael and Brianna off to the entrance of the academy, both silent and reserved in the late hours, splitting their separate ways.

________________________

A knock at her door lifted her from the cherry-wood vanity outside her ensuite. She had just finished applying her makeup, and was thinking of the outfit she should wear, appropriate for the ceremony of today and to signal her loyalty to her coven.

Culnis slipped into the room, consent to enter was given, and swept over to the stool she was sitting at, holding a garment bag slung over his shoulder.

“Courtesy of our coven's credit card.” Culnis sung, unzipping the bag and pulling the fabric sides apart. Inside, a high-necked, victorian-esque lace blouse in the shade of pure white, sistered with a matching coloured skirt, the solid colour running until the lace at its ends, miniature roses and orchid woven into the fabric.

“It’s stunning. But white? A bit too wedding, no? And I don’t think it’s my color, Cul.”

Culnis shushed her, laying it on the freshly made bed, not accepting any other option than her wearing it. “It will be a nice contrast.”

“To what? The glowing orange of the fires?”

He tilted towards her, allowing a smirk to settle on his face. “To those around you…Or the damn color scheme of every witch or warlock everywhere. I know black is simple and stylish, but where’s a little change up now and then.”

Culnis pointed to his own outfit, an undershirt of black, overlaid with a deep purple velvet blazer, and matching pants.

“Now, get your outfit and boots on, I’ll see you downstairs.” He retreated, and abruptly faced her, walking backwards. “There’s a cloak as well, not white, you’ll see.”

And so, Brianna stood at the entrance, sun beaming down on her, the snow white of her outfit shining in the brightness, accompanied by the twinkling starry blue velvet cloak that attached to her shoulders.

Behold had raised his eyebrows at her appearance but then promptly nodded his approval, taking a stand next to her, the opposite side to Culnis.

Brianna tipped from one foot to the other, as the long walk from the car to the waiting people that she was in, seemed to take forever.

Only three of them had come, Cordelia in an ever-powerful black cloak, an intricate clip securing it, sided by Zoe who had decided on a nicely fitted suit that highlighted her sharp features. Which then left Myrtle, in all her flame-haired glory, donning a delicately patterned cloak, of diamonds and unique swirls, mirrored perfectly.

Uncaring for the social demands of the moment, Brianna ran off to crush Zoe into an embrace, breathing in the fresh violet scent of her friend. Zoe squeezed back, collecting herself to look at her.

“You look angelic, Bri.”

Brianna giggled, brushing Zoe’s shoulder. “Why, thank you Benson. I would blush if I wasn’t already burnt by the damn sun.”

“No, you really look better, maybe this place suits you…” Zoe spoke with an anxious tone. “Although I still hope to think you’ll return with us.”

Ariel cleared his throat from behind them, the others all ready to head downstairs. Cordelia supplied a small smile while Myrtle side-eyed Tutor Pennypacker who was starting to explain the past of the academy structure (that she already knew of).

The brunette slipped her hands in Zoe’s, taking the walk to the elevator. “I’m coming home with you. It’s been enlightening being here but…it’s not home, not like our academy.”

And hopefully, if all went well, she would be on her way home soon.

The next hour went by slowly, as she was sat outside the meeting room with Culnis, reading a book on magical runes, dismissed from the presence as she was deemed as an unnecessary addition - most likely, Ariel’s insistence.

For the topic of the gathering of witches and warlocks, she assumed it was about Michael. Ariel had made it obvious he wanted Michael to rise up in ranks somehow, and they needed the Supreme to allow this, or to be made aware of this fact.

But to what extent he thought that was going to be, she had no idea. Michael could be an honoured warlock, given favour by the Supreme or he would just level up to the very same as the current tutors.

There wasn’t any other space to occupy, especially when it came to male connection to the realm of magic they drew from, it wasn’t quite the same connection as witch’s power.

“How do you think Cordelia looked?” Brianna spoke, breaking the silence.

Culnis, head in his own book, perked up. “Our dear Supreme looked radiant, is that what you are referring to?”

The brunette hummed, fingering the top of the page corner, the scratchiness eliciting a shiver on her back. “Sort of.”

“She’s in her prime. Especially with Myrtle at her side and a flourishing academy that are devotedly loyal to her, myself and the other bodyguards included. She’s extraordinary, not perfect, but she tries her best to seek goodness in all situations.”

Brianna unfolded the dog-ear she had flicked back and forth, smoothing it out. “You’re right. I’m just a little on edge but I’m sure she has it all handled.”

Brianna hadn’t seen Michael yet. She supposed he was waiting until Ariel called on him. But he also hadn’t made it to breakfast so maybe he was more wary of her coven being there then she thought or he allowed.

“Meetings over.” Culnis announced, the wooden door sweeping open,

Ariel stormed out, trailed by Baldwin and Behold. John Henry stood at the door, in between them and the rest of the coven.

“So, how goes the battle?” Culnis queried, slapping his book shut, walking to warm his hands at the fireplace.

John Henry lit up, clearing the doorway for the incoming women. “A success for Miss Robichaux’s, at least for now.”

Briana placed her book atop of Culnis’s, her hands clasped together in wait for the others. That must mean good news, if her coven was on the winning side, whatever to be won was up in the air.

“What a ridiculous notion. As if some boy could approach that level. It’s disgraceful they would call us here for that. We’d be at Galatoire's, indulging in fine food rather than festering in the sweat of male ego.”

Myrtle’s cloak swirled as she joined them, her head turned to deliver that comment to Cordelia, then her eyes laid upon Brianna, hands coming to either side of the brunette’s face.

“Darling, Brianna.” Myrtle stroked one side of her face affectionately. “I am so delighted to see you. I am pleased to see you haven’t melted into the ground in this godforsaken place.”

Brianna smiled up at the redhead, comforted by the touch. “I’ve been tempted to, many times, but female persistence is a strong thing to combat against that.”

Myrtle took her hands away, touching the starry cloak Brianna wore. “Indeed.”

The fire dimmed, yet the brightness in the room did not falter, allowing a peace from the fierce heat. Cordelia had pulled the temperature of them down, her own face about to start excreting sweat if it lingered any higher.

“Well, that wasn’t what I expected.” She glanced at Brianna, eyes softening. “I thought maybe John Henry had discovered something in the books you two were reading. I was hopeful for you, Brianna.”

Brianna met her eyes, even if shorter than her. “No, useful information but no clear path for the eradication of the issue…but, um, there was a bit of a development.”

Myrtle looked at Cordelia, who herself furrowed her brows.

“A development? Nothing untoward happened to you, did it? If it did, I’ll ensure there are appropriate consequences.”

“No! Nothing bad.” Brianna waved her hands in a dismissing action, culling the seriousness away. “Something good, actually. The new warlock, Michael, he, um…helped me.”

More eyes were focused on her, questioning, tense and worried.

“He helped you? How?” Cordelia asked, tilting her head down to Brianna.

Brianna held out her arms, the tense, dark veins had been lighter ever since Michael had helped her recover from the spell attack she had. They had a steady flow of dark matter but not the same as before, that was abundantly clear to herself, and now to those in this room.

“He…sucked up a part of the curse from me. Like, literally. I had a bit of an accident but he was there to steady me. It was remarkable, I mean, after I could actually see or focus on what was going on.”

Myrtle took in a deep breath, tight-lipped and thoughtful.

Culnis and Zoe were sitting side by side now on the lounge, averting their eyes, the bodyguard reaching for his book again, to hide away from the conversation.

Her supreme just blinked at her, mouth opening and closing, a hand coming to rest on a chest of draws that sat next to her.

Brianna tried for a smile, not liking the tension she had somehow created. “He helped me.”

“Yes, we got that, dear.” Myrtle took Brianna’s wrists, following the lines of the veins on one hand, inspecting them deeply, “He has a talent, it seems. That cannot be denied.”

Myrtle’s eyes flicked back to Cordelia, testing to see how she felt from the news.

Wrists were dropped, the tension lingering as her Supreme finally found her footing in the room again.

“I’m glad you are okay, Brianna. I need you to know that. I just am wary of that warlock’s power, if Ariel is so inclined towards him, I don’t honour his direction.”

“I understand that.” Brianna spoke to her delicately, taking a glance down the hall that the tutors had rushed down. She wondered if they were planning a new idea or just licking their wounds clean, a slash of humility burrowing into their minds.

Zoe stood up, brushing off her not at all creased pants, looking to her friend. “I think I can speak for us all, and saw we should process this with some food. Lead the way?”

Brianna dipped her head, acknowledging the duty. “It’s no Galatoire's, but it should suffice.”

________________________

Time ticked by as Cordelia sat in the music room, in an in-depth conversation with John Henry.

Surprisingly, they were joined by the other tutors, bar Ariel who had retreated to his office and promised he would see them off when they left.

Myrtle pinched and strummed at a small harp, conjured up when she decided the room needed some serenity and more up-scale proceedings. Behold, leant back, the tune summoning his eyes to close, next to his spot beside John Henry.

Brianna scanned the room, watching as Baldwin and Culnis listened into the main conversation, and she shuffled close to the witch at her side.

“So, this Michael, really helped you?” Zoe murmured quietly.

Brianna hummed, tilting her head. “Uh huh. He has great power. But he’s more than that, he’s kind of nice and he listens to me talk about the elements for hours on end.”

“Ah, so he enjoys torture. What a strange warlock.”

Brianna swiped lightly at the blazer Zoe wore, shaking her head. “Hey!”

“I’m just kidding, I like when you talk about the things you love. Your eyes get a strange sparkly quality. I never worked out if that was magic or just something unique about you. Mallory noticed it too.”

Brianna lifted her hand to her eyes. “Oh.”

A flicker in the corner of them gained her attention, a flash of golden hair had gone past the end of the hallway and into another part of the academy.

“Excuse me, Zoe. I have to quickly do something.”

Brianna swept up, hurrying down the hall to find the warlock. He was at the bottom of the stairs that lead to the landings that included her own bedroom.

Determined blue eyes found hers, surprised at her presence. “I was just coming to find you. Maybe I should’ve checked the other rooms but I didn’t want to interrupt. You know…with everyone else.”

She watched him release his hand from the bannister, altering his position to lean towards the corridor that lead to the elevator.

“Did you need something? Or…?”

Michael swept his eyes back to her, nodding softly. “I need to do something. Will you come with me?”

Arms crossed, a skeptical expression surfaced. “I might need some more information there, Langdon.”

Michael took her hand and led her to the corridor, he took a scrunched up piece of paper and held it to her. “I had a…vision. It was this place.”

Upon the paper was a neatly sketched building, a hotel, retro but still cutting quite an imposing figure. “Hotel Cortez.”

Michael clicked the button for the elevator, dropping her hand to wait for it. “Yes. I’ve got to figure it out. I think-”

“Queenie.” Brianna glanced up, a pricking of water at her tear ducts. “My friend, our sister, Queenie is stuck there. Can you…can you help her?”

Michael caught her stare, examining the emotion on clear display. She cared for this person. She laid her heart out clear to see. He thought it foolish to allow him to see her so affected. Foolish but well-meaning.

Brianna could see it in him that he was uncomfortable with her emotion. But she didn’t care. It was Queenie. And if there was any small opportunity, to help her and bring her back home, then that is what they would do.

The elevator doors slid open, clicking at the end, and Michael stepped inside. “You don’t have to come with me, I can do it alone.”

Brianna’s hand slammed on the archway of the elevator, ensuring they wouldn’t close. “Fuck that, I’m coming with you.”

Rusty orange toned lights shone amongst the dusty, outdated tables and chairs, a collection of bad mistakes, last-minute hookups and shady business deals, embedded in the walls of the building.

“Well, its…um, pleasant?”

Michael snorted, brushing dust off a nearby chair, scrunching his nose up. “It’s disgusting. And, somethings wrong with it, there's more than just the stench of whatever it has been. I can feel it.”

He looked up to the end of the room, where two doors stood on opposite sides, a blurry vision of a figure hidden behind one. Lust, carnage and evil radiated from behind the glass, hopefully locked at the moment, both spiritually and in the human way.

“Don’t open any doors without me.” Michael spoke to his right, still concentrated on his view, rolling one of his shoulders back as he felt eyes on him from the bar above them, curious and seeking his attention.

He wouldn’t give it. Not to someone unworthy of his attention.

“We’ll head upstairs, I think. She’ll be up there.” Michael confirmed to Brianna, gesturing for her to go ahead, following behind her cautiously.

The brunette skidded to a halt when another appeared in front of them, a head free of hair, well-practiced eyeliner and a cape, vibrant hues of greens, blue with slivers of purple, almost peacock-like.

“And who do we have here?”

Brianna glanced around again, spotting another at the desk, watching sternly, flicking the pages of an old book, old rounded glasses shaping her face.

“Don’t worry about her, or me. Trust me, there’s a lot more in this hotel to be worried about.” The caped person strolled closer, holding a manicured hand. “Liz Taylor.”

Brianna grasped the hand, deciding to trust her at least for the minute. “Brianna Harton. And this is Michael. We’ve come to-”

“Find the witch, I know. We’ve got spirits, hellish creatures and strange things around here, so I can pick up on other energies when they come. And you’ve both got a mystical vibe about yourselves.”

Liz Taylor squeezed the hand she held, then looked past Brianna to the warlock. “He’s a little misty though, not quite as straightforward as yours. Nothing bad, I hope.”

Michael disregarded that comment. Plenty of people had felt that way towards him, it really didn’t matter anymore. He has a mission and he was hell-bent on succeeding at it. “We’ll be heading upstairs now, thank you.”

Brianna raised her eyebrows, stifling an amused laugh. “He’ll learn how to speak to people soon, I promise. But yes, we’ve got to go.”

Liz Taylor cleared the way, tossing a key to Michael in the elevator, strolling back behind the counter, next to the older lady, who rolled her eyes at the interaction she had just witnessed.

“Thank you!” Brianna shouted as the doors shut, shooting them upwards to their destination. “What level are we-Oh!”

In a quick second, an empty hallway invited itself into their vision. Brianna stepped out, skipping over the suspicious puddle of scarlet liquid, a trolley sat beside it, brimming with an unusual selection of cleaning products and starchy white towels.

She led them further down, breathing deeply, step by step she could feel her heart brimming with hope. It was that and the trapped energy that emitted from the second last door.

Michael entered first, attracting the attention of the two who sat at the table, a well-worn chess table, in the midst of a game, in between them.

Brianna peeked around his larger frame, to take in the sight of them. And there she sat, casually with a strange-looking man who looked plucked right of another decade, excited eyes turned her way.

She followed Michael as he sauntered in, sliding her way to Queenie’s side, a grin brimming at her lips. She was cautious to reach out, as the lingering warning of getting stuck here never did have instructions, and she didn’t fancy an eternity in this creepy, somehow lust-filled place, spinning with odd intentions.

“What a fascinating specimen.” The older man complimented, holding Michaels stare. “Alive but so intimate with the dead.”

Brianna cleared her throat, drawing Michael attention to the mission in question.

“Oh, yes. You are quite spectacular as well, my dear.”

The brunette shot the man a weird look, stepping further away. “Queenie, we’ve come to help you.”

“Holy shit, Harton?” Queenie manage to find a grin to match hers, shaking her head in disbelief, but a tilt of Michael’s head brought him into view. “Who the hell are you?”

Prompted by the question, the curly blond walked forward, with a hand out, mirroring how most introductions he had seen. “I’m Michael Langdon. And I’m here to do for you what your Supreme couldn’t.”

Queenie turned back to the cards before her, avoiding the intense warlock, as well as the somehow placid version of her current acquaintance sitting across from her, shuffling back into their game of cards. “Yeah, right.”

Brianna hopped back into her view, placing a gentle hand on the table. “No, Queenie, it’s real. He’s…” She looked to her wrists, then to Michael. “He’s helped me even, if you know what I mean.”

Queenie looked up then, catching honest sapphire eyes. She had been the first that Brianna had fully confided in about it.

“You can trust him, at least for now if that’s all you can do.” Brianna promised.

Mr March, the older man, who Brianna had now placed, remembering back to the articles that Queenie had shared with her about the hotel she’d be staying in while featuring on jeopardy, a curiosity of the morbid tales but not a actuality that either thought was still residing at the old building, had placed his cards on the table, fidgeting instead with his fingers.

“Take his hand, Queenie.” Mr March uttered, wide eyes at the people before him.

“And what if I don’t want to?”

“I’m not sure you have a choice.” The man said, trans-Atlantic accent lowered in certainty.

Briana scoffed at his reply. “She always has a choice. It’s just that this one is better than sitting at a table forever with, whatever you are.”

“I’ll be right back.” Queenie raised up, putting her hand in Michaels reluctantly, a satisfied smirk rising on his face, casting one last look to Mr March before exiting the room and dropping the hand as he did so.

Brianna took it back up, holding her tightly. “Trust us, Queenie. We’ll get you out of here. He’ll find a way.”

Michael cast a look back at her with a warm smile as they piled into the elevator again, whizzing down several floors, a strange speed for such an odd hotel.
The lift smelt like pipe smoke, old rotten cheese and a hint of dried blood, concealed in the fabric that lined it.

“I trust you. But I can’t but not expect much from this. Cordelia took me through every damn door and window, and yet I’m still here with the vintage murderer. I guess we’ll see, anyway.” Queenie spoke to her right, Brianna and her side by side, linked together, awaiting the opening of the doors.

“Well, I’ll try my best.” Michael offered, the smile now a haughty smirk, assured of his own powers.

He strolled across the main area, dodging any spirits that drifted their way, eager for stimulation and attention, pushing open the gilded glass doors, one after the other, turning back to them.

Queenie hesitated at the last doors, skeptical eyes glancing up at the barrier she couldn’t have crossed for years.

“Come on.”

“Let’s go.”

Michael and Brianna both said at the same time, the former facing backwards and leading her friend to safety, hesitant steps from Queenie but she made it across, no teleporting back to the same room occurred.

“There’s one person left to get.” Michael smirking all the while, left the two to drift onto the streetside. “Let’s go.”

The gilded doors slammed with an eerie frequency, pushing the two forward.

“See, we made it through. You’re okay now. And we can take you back to Cordelia and you’ll be back at the academy, Queenie. It’s so good to see you again, it hasn’t been the same without you.”

Queenie took her hands back, smiling. “It’s nice to know I’ve been missed. I know Miss Cordelia was upset but I figured as time moves on, so would the academy.”

Brianna shook her head. “You were one of the main girls, you are not being forgotten that easily. But I get what you mean.”

The two took the direction of Michael’s path, to where he was waiting for them, patient hands at his side, an expectant expression gracing his features. She watched as the sunlight bathed down on him, shimmering gold in the current hour, spotlighting his high cheekbones and ocean-like eyes.

“You know he’s kind of creepy, right?”

Brianna broke from her stare, back to Queenie. “Oh, excuse me, do you want to head back inside to the hotel of horrors?”

Queenie shook her head, pulling them both forward. “Fuck, no!”

“So, where to next, Langdon?” Brianna, eyes upwards, genuinely excited for the next part of their day out.

“Close your eyes, both of you.”

Brianna did not know what their next location was going to look like but she expected something more than some old, expansive, somehow still active, retail store, a collection of customers lining up for returns, trolleys and hands filled with multiple items.

She’d hate to be the one at the counter, returns could be annoying as it is, add in cranky customers, silly reasons or receipts well past the return dates. She’d learnt enough from her brief job during the summer when she was sixteen.

"Oh, we're in hell, are we?"

Michael snickered at her correct assumption, which she actually meant as a joke, because why the fuck would they be there? “We’re downstairs, if you prefer that version.” “Retail wasn’t what I had in mind, Langdon, but if that's your thing, I’ll support you. But, actually, where are we?”

Michael shot another look at her, eyebrows raised, amused by her jest. He shook his head, leading the two down some aisles. “We’re downstairs, if you like. Hell might be a more honest idea. We’re here to collect Madison Montgomery”

“Oh, hell no. She may be a fellow witch but she definitely belongs here. This was brought on by her own doing, I didn’t do shit for mine.”

Michael shrugged at Queenie. “Nethertheless, it proves a point.”

Brianna shuffled from the open aisle where more customers were joining the already long queue, their eyes full of demands and dislike of empathy. “Alright, but I hope we can get a cinnabon when we’re done.”

He halted, smiling, “I don’t know what that is. But if you’re lucky, maybe you can introduce me to it another time.”

Queenie rolled her eyes at the two but considered the mentioned place. “Screw that, if you’re getting Cinnabon, we’re all getting Cinnabon. I haven’t even been able to eat for the last few years. The only food I ever saw was some weird looking canapes and a maid carrying red juices into the elevator, being dead really sucks. I don’t recommend it.”

“Oh, gross. And I thought Myrtle’s concoction were disgus-”

Michael swept out, black shoes solidly on the ground, stopping at the edge of the now insight blonde girl, meeting his stare.

“That’s Madison?” Brianna whispered to Queenie, watching through the shelves.

Queenie chuckled. “Yeah, she was at the academy before you were, a lot of shit happened and then she ended up here.”

“Oh.”

Brianna watched as the Madison girl stood up to her height, short compared to Michael, lips pursed in suspense.

Michael repeated what he had said to Queenie about getting them out of the current status they were trapped in, a hero to their void of life.

“Do I have to blow you or something?”

Brianna’s eyes widened, almost choking on her own spit. Well, that was an introduction to another witch that would be joining them for the time-being. But hey, some people are more straight-forward about things, even when first meeting someone.

It wasn’t how she would personally approach a stranger, you know, she’d at least, offer a hello and take them to dinner, like any sane person would.

“Oh.” Madison, looked down, the offer denied a surprise to her but she recollected her confidence, sliding upwards, a coy smile forming. “Okay. Well, when we get out of here, can I anyway? You’re a snack and I haven’t had a good dicking in forever. Any dicking, really.”

Michael met her eyes with an amused yet uninterested stare. It was funny to see how people, in their desperate time of need, resorted to such quick connections, void of any and all emotion. Just to feel one iota of pleasure and to feel the attention one craved.

“And they intentionally make sure all the personal massagers are out of stock, so…”

Queenie let out a chuckle, walking out from the shelves to reunite with her former classmate. “Damn, a hoe even in the afterlife, huh?”

Madison took no offence, arms raised out, dashing to Queenie, humming at the familiar face.

“Get off me bitch.”

Brianna slipped out from the side next to them, letting them have their moment.

“Is it really you? I mean how did you get here? What is all of this? Who are the two of you?” Madison rang out, excitement rolling off her in waves.

Queenie replied, more wary than the blonde witch. “So, I was dead. And stuck in this haunted hotel or something. And, I swear to god, had the most boring annoying white people since…since you. And this dude came, with Brianna, who is a witch from the academy, and he freed me, and brought us down here to get you.”

Madison flicked her attention to Brianna, only just taking in the other witch fully, eyes skirting down to her fully white outfit, then back to the main issues.

“Why?”

“Honestly I don’t know, I was trying to talk him out of it. I told him that you’re a stone cold bitch, and you’re exactly where you belong.”

Madison smiled affectionately, radiating in the height of her former glory and reputation. She seemed to be quite fine with being put in a specific category, regardless of other’s thoughts and feelings.

The brunette blinked, clearing her throat again. “How are we proving a point again?”

This was taking longer than she thought, and she had only said to Zoe that she would be gone for a moment, it’s been an hour since then. But maybe time in hell moved differently, and they might actually pop back out only just before the hour was over.

Michael took that as his point to continue, gesturing towards them. “There’s work to do. I need you all.”

“For our powers?” Madison guessed, a confident smile at her lips.

“No.” Michael looked like he was about to laugh at her assumption. But he held it in, a serious energy bubbling up. “As Brianna said, to prove a point.”

“Okay, just take me, please! Okay, whatever you need, I will do it. I promise to be so good, if I get another chance.”

Michael counteracted her pleading, stopping it in its tracks. “Now, why would you want to do something silly like that?”

His tone lowered, the tendrils of it bouncing in the air, eliciting the hair on her arms to raise, warm shivers following as he flicked a look her way. “We’ll head back now.”

She felt herself stuck in place, the intensity of his look repeating in her mind, it was troubling but enticing. She knew there was a chance that placing her trust in him could backfire, after all, he did hold some powers that technically he shouldn’t have.

He could be a threat to their coven, if Ariel or any other males claimed him as their rising star, catapulting their world of magic into chaos.

But he was Michael, and for the minute, she would trust him. He did bring her back to the world of the conscious, and that meant something to her.

“Finally.” Madison squealed, throwing off the blue work vest that she wore. “But we’re going to need to make a stop along the way. I know a place.”

‘The Boutique of Wayward Dreams’ is the place that Madison knew.

A collection of modern, vintage, some gothic, some high-fashion, all expensive ware that surround them, racks and racks of clothing, practically begging for them to be tried and bought.

Madison strutted down the rows, picking up pieces, deciding herself as the design leader, throwing black, off the shoulder blouse to Queenie. “Find some decent looking pants to match that with, then head to the accessories, I’ll meet you there.”

She turned to the other two, both patient and just staring at her.

Brianna was simply waiting for a demand, as she assumed Madison was keen to give them, part intrigued to what she would pick out, instead of her current outfit.

“Now, you may be a precious little dove but we’ve gotta get you into something less…well, virginal.”

Brianna stepped forward, eyes crossed. “Excuse me? I like what I’m wearing. And you don’t need to assume things from how I look. It’s rude.”

Madison scoffed, looking her up and down. “Did I say that I wasn’t rude? Now, pick something that doesn’t look like you’re a fucking Saint. I’d suggest leather or something with slits in it.”

Brianna frowned at the back of her, making her way up the aisles and started to search. She glanced back, now scowling, as Madison talked to Michael about his own choices for his outfit.

Madison pinned it a rebirth, of the blonde and Queenie’s life, and for the point of proving a point. And she was a genius at them apparently, both making points and resurrecting, this not the first time she’s excelled at them.

Cordelia would just be thankful to have her girls back, regardless of what they showed up in but an addition to her wardrobe wouldn’t entirely hurt.

She picked through the jeans in front of her, skipping past the ripped ones. Only one caught her eye, with lilac threading curving its way around both the hip and the seams downwards, turning into a dance of birds at the ends.

It wasn’t even one minute before Madison reappeared beside her, holding up a dress. “This will do.”

Brianna scoped the offered item, taking it from her.

A midi dress, underlaid with an emerald silky fabric topped over with black lace, allowing the colour to glow through, long sleeves flaring at the end, and a slit down the side of where her right leg would be. The neckline was wavy, spotlighting both her collarbones and cleavage.

“Michael mentioned you already have a sufficient cloak, so wear it over this, just make sure to not hide under it. You have nice curves, don’t let them go to waste.”

“Oh, thank you.” Brianna blinked twice, an unexpected compliment wasn’t something she thought was on the cards. “That was actually nice?”

“I’m not all bitch, you know? Plus you seem adequately fine. I don’t get any weird vibes from you.” Madison looked down from them, curly hair in vision. “From him, I do. But he saved me, so bow down to his will and all. Go to the change rooms and we’ll finish up here.”

The dress definitely fit her well, a little snug in some places, clinging to all parts of her body but she felt a confidence surge within her once she has shown the others. Madison had nodded her approval, while Queenie, looking fabulous in her own sleek outfit had whistled, patting her on the shoulder.

She wasn’t sure what Michael thought. He had nodded as well, eyes sliding from her trusty boots to her questioning stare before beckoning them to head back to the car now waiting outside.

The minute it pulled back up at the academy, Brianna hopped down and stood between Madison and Michael as they walked towards the entrance, multiple figures stood in the distance.

Brianna tilted her head, her cape slung once again around her back, flowing the the wind, a mirror to Michaels as they glided up, the point being proven, as plain as the blaring day it was.

Michael could do what Cordelia couldn’t. He proved the impossible. He was enough to make the pillars of the world tremble.

Cordelia’s fixed gaze faltered, leaning to the side for a moment before her body hit the ground, small particles of sand bursting up from the ground, the sheer disturbance cracking through the wind.

“Shit.” Brianna exclaimed, giving Michael a look before leaving his side to sprint over to Cordelia, both Myrtle and Zoe already knelt down, tending to their beloved Supreme.

She was breathing, but her skin was cold and withdrawn, paling to a pearl-like luminescence. Goosebumps were flocking her arms and neck as their own bodyguards from Miss Robichaux came forward, gently carrying Cordelia back down to the academy downstairs.

Brianna lifted herself up, reaching for a piece of her starry cloak to touch, to ground her nerves. And she turned, facing Michael’s satisfied, striking expression, of deep eyes, a confident hint of a grin and shoulders pulled up, standing tall amongst the parched land encircling them.

And maybe, just maybe, Brianna had underestimated him, and she didn’t understand the severity of what he could be.

Chapter Text

The sun had set and gone by the time Brianna made her way to the library room where Cordelia had just woken up.

She left the others to watch over their Supreme and followed after Michael, who was ushered into the main office, a prideful Ariel, silent boasting when he saw the boy, shutting the door and keeping out any others that weren’t the ambitious warlock and the tutors.

“You think this will fuck things up?” Brianna queried, worriedly, turning her head to Culnis who had stuck by her side for the afternoon since they’d returned.

Culnis meet her stare, tilting his head, eyebrows rising up his forehead. “Do I think that some random boy who has shown remarkable talent in his powers, helped you stabilise and brought two of our own back from hell, will cause some issues? Yeah, I think it’ll fuck things up, darling.”

Brianna hummed in reply, idly twisting her ring, a faint glow emitting from her touch.

The bodyguard led her into the book-filled space, breathing a sigh of relief at seeing Cordelia, alive and breathing, and coherent in a grateful embrace with Madison and Queenie.

“Maybe you forgot I’m not much of a hugger.” Madison complained, though her touch on Cordelia wasn’t reluctant.

“Tough shit. You’re alive.”

“Not if you keep squeezing my neck like this.” Madison pushed back, cutting off the embrace.

Brianna stepped to her side, watching ahead of them. Cordelia, eyes glistening with unfallen tears, took in each detail of Queenie’s face, touching her face. She looked from Queenie to Madison, a hole in her family had been ripped apart, and now was full again.
Cordelia flickered her eyes to Brianna before abruptly rotating to the two behind her, Zoe and Myrtle. She needed their reaction and support to follow through with her next decision, to be at her side as she faced the facts of the future, while also showing gratitude for what was brought back to her.

Pieces of her coven were returned, and for that, she was especially thankful for.

“I wanna see him.” It was final. She wanted to meet him, surrounded by the ones she loved, after all, that was more powerful than anything he had achieved. She had her girls, and her girls had her. “The boy.”

Myrtle allowed a nod, still wary of Cordelia’s condition and of her own thoughts on the warlock. She wasn’t happy with the situation at all. If it was her decision, she’d’ve had them all back in the car and flying their way back to Miss Robichaux’s in time for a well-prepared, delicious dinner, void of any stray warlocks that were not well-suited for their academy.

Brianna cleared her throat, taking an inch of a step to them. “They’re in the Chancellor's office but I’m sure they will be finished soon. The dinner bell should be ringing anytime soon, anyway.”

Cordelia acknowledged her information, deciding to sit back down with Myrtle, the former wanting to talk some more about the plans ahead, they couldn’t just walk in, with thankfulness and leave the status to the floor.

Madison spoke up first, when the others dispersed, eyes locked on Zoes. “So, how's Kyle?”

Queenie blew out a breath, eyes to the floors.

A touchy subject to broach first, but Madison never minded. And it’s not like people didn’t expect her to ask the problematic questions first.

“In jail? Rotting away for the murder of me? Or ashes at the bottom of a pyre, fitting for our standards?”
Zoe straightened up, dusting non-existent particles from her fitted suit. “He’s fine. We, well, decided on a place where he could get better.”

“Ah.” Madison smirked. “So, not ashes then.”

“No. Not ashes.”

Madison threw her hands up gently, swinging her eyes about the room. “Well, the whole band is back together, with some added touches.”

Brianna felt eyes on her, she lifted her head. “Brianna.”

Madison moved her head in a small nod, looking to Culnis now. “And who is this? I never saw you before.”

Culnis, who was leaning against the bookshelves, arms crossed, offered up a confident smile. “Yes, I think we would’ve known of each other.”

He moved forward, offering a hand. “Culnis Brookston. New Orleans, born and raised, warlock of some means, honored bodyguard of Miss Robichaux’s. And I guess you are Madison. Zoe mentioned you a couple of times.”

Madison flipped her hair back, taking his hand. “That is gracious of her, how sweet.” She shared a glance with Zoe, a semblance of something between the look, but ultimately brought her attention to the man before her.

“Charmed. And you know how to dress.” Culnis moved his eyes from her heeled boots to the hat she wore. “Though, I’d be careful with whose outfits you insult, without knowing who picked them out.”

Brianna let out a chuckle, tapping him on the shoulder. “To be fair, it was very angelic.”

“I dress people how I see them or what suits them most. Can’t help it, you're as sweet as strawberries.”

“If anything, she’d be a raspberry.” Queenie jumped in. “You’ve got to have had a thousand raspberry cakes since I’ve been gone. If not, we’ll have to have one each night to make up for it.”

Brianna grinned at the other witch. “Absolutely.”

The dinner bell emanated through the space, echoing in the other areas of the academy, a scurrying of warlocks was heard, then once that grew quiet, the witches took this time to head to the main office.

Cordelia led the group, flanked by Myrtle and Zoe who spread out once they stopped at the end of the hallways, the other witches spreading across, opposite of the other warlocks, Ariel in the centre.

“Are you alright? We were so worried.”

Brianna stuffed down the absolute scoff she so wanted to let out at the bullshit that Ariel clung to desperately, as if he didn’t want to tear their coven down to pieces, crowing with victorious words as he did.

But that wouldn’t happen. Victory was not his to have, or even grasp for a single second.

Brianna looked for Michael and once she found him, kept her eyes on him. He drifted behind the main tutors, gliding to the side, opposite to her, the fire and coven rivalry all that separated them.

Myrtle faced them first, the glow of the flames nearby illuminating her hair. “Perhaps, the sudden shock of sunlight after leaving this dungeon.”

Cordelia cut through the “small talk”, zeroing in on the obvious choice. “I wasn’t prepared for that. For seeing my girls. But I’m okay now. That’s what's important.”

Their supreme’s eyes slid to Michaels. “I want to thank you. For bringing them back.”
Brianna waited for his reply, letting out a slow breath, face heated by the nearness of the fire.

“I wanted to get your attention.”

Behold jutted in, upholding his side of the room. “I suspect you’ve got that now?”

Cordelia let her head drift to an almost nod, a serious expression replacing the gratitude. “He certainly does. And now I’d like everyone else’s attention.

Brianna took her attention off Michael, swinging it to Cordelia. “I’ve been presented something. A vision. I believe I saw the future. A terrifying future. A cataclysm. Fire. Death. I saw a man…but not a man.”

Cerulean eyes clicked with brighter ones, warm shivers slithering up Brianna’s eyes.

Cordelia, withstanding the concerned looks of her coven, continued. “A white face, demonic, he was laughing.” She cast a glance at her guardian-like companion. “Our academy, I saw it reduced to cinders.”

Brianna broke eye contact, looking at the flames in the centre as they grew higher, sending little pieces of ashes onto the floor in front of them.

“A warning.” John Henry confirmed, his posture tense, almost ready for whatever command the Supreme could give next.

“Maybe.” Cordelia’s glance was back on the new warlock, strong and fierce. “But something in my blood is telling me that the only hope we have of surviving depends on what I do next.”

Brianna moved back to let her Supreme move past them, silence filling the air, the energy of the steps growing with each one she took. “In two weeks' time, at the rise of the blood moon, you will take the test of the seven wonders. That is, if you still want to.”

Ariel was taken aback, but he quickly slipped back into his normal look, attention on Michael, allowing him to find his answer to the Supreme, a deeply honored demand that hung in the balance.

Michael checked the expression of the tutors, before finding his own answer, within himself and met Cordelia’s stare, feet finding themselves before her. “I do.”

Energy spiked from the other corner of the room, an infuriated voice speaking up along with it. “Cordelia, this isn’t-”

Brianna looked up again, and met Michael’s eyes. “But she’ll join me.”

“What?” She couldn’t believe what he had just said. Her own feet moved backwards sheepishly, trying to hide herself in the shadows, away from curious eyes.

“No, she’s not a part of this.” Cordelia bit back, holding her arm out, as if to protect Brianna.

Michael held her head up high, looking down on the Supreme. “It’s only fair. A warlock and a witch. One from either side. And she’s the only one on your side that hasn’t been through it.”

Brianna emerged from the flamey shadows with a shake of her head. “I can’t. I’m no-.”

Michael focused on her, offering a small smile. “Prove yourself, Brianna. We can be capable of many things.”

“That seems fair. A duel, if it suits. One of ours against yours.” Ariel raised his eyebrows, a devilish smile reflecting at Brianna.

Brianna shrunk from his expression, shuffling back to Zoe, head lowered to not meet the Chancellor's eyes.

“Plus, if anything happens, I’m sure he can just bring her back from wherever she goes.” Ariel chuckles, patting Michael on the back, giving the floor back to Cordelia.

“Fine. But if anything happens to her, your whole academy will answer to me and be held responsible. No male has ever made the attempt, and if you succeed, you will be the next Supreme. And it will change everything.”

Brianna felt bile rise in her throat, and she resisted the urge to throw up into the fire. She and Culnis had only just talked about this, and the truth was rolling out before her eyes.

And somehow she was meant to add something to it. But what could she do? She had decent power, yes. But not in the way of the seven wonders. She didn’t even think about it for a second. For Mallory, she did. But her own future did not align with that path.

But Michael had wanted her to. And perhaps he would be a little comforted if he weren’t alone. To face the challenge of the tests ahead, and have the attention halved, even if it would eventually land full on him again once he succeeded.

Brianna took in a sharp gasp, thinking of her own fate in that situation. Impaled on a fence like Zoe had been, and how she explained the strange feeling she felt before she succumbed to the dark of death before being brought back. Left in hell, to live in a nightmare for the rest of time?

A hand squeezed hers, Zoe’s hopeful face coming into view. “You’ll be okay. We made it through fine, even though we weren’t Supreme.”

Brianna blinked, hand stilling. “What about the Misty girl you talked about?”

Zoe didn't have an answer, she just held on tighter and stared ahead.

“This is going to be a long two weeks.” Brianna murmured, shoulder falling in defeat.

Cordelia rejoined their group, turning away from the warlocks. Ariel and Pennypacker were both satisfied with their apparent success, enveloping Michael with praise, John Henry standing to the side with a disapproving glare.

Cordelia replaced Zoe's hands with her own, pulling Brianna down the hallway and back up to the elevator.

“We’re heading home.”

______________________________

Brianna tossed and turned the first night home. She thought her first night back at the academy would be the most peaceful she’d been in a while. But I wasn’t.

After arriving home and reuniting with Mallory, both girls collapsed into a hug and talked until midnight. She had stared at the ceiling, a myriad of worries crossing her mind.

She thought about Michael. How he was dealing with the newfound challenge and how he had seemed so up to it. How she was also thrown into the fire. He expected her to join him in this but maybe he didn’t understand that she wasn’t exactly someone who would take this challenge lightly, or just for the sake of it.

Brianna lay on one side, envisioning bats flying through silver hoops, wings flapping to get to the next one.

No luck.

She turned to the other side and thought of her mothers, their soothing words and how they would refuse for her to go through with this, and demand protection for her.

Brianna glanced at Mallory, her serene peaceful face as she slept, the clock next to her reading two fifty three in the deathly quiet late hours.

She slipped off her ring, placing it on the nightstand, the glow of it making the one on the other side of the room glow, but this went unnoticed by the other wearer.

She slipped a jacket over her pyjamas and sat in a cross-legged position on her blanket-strewn bed, closing her eyes. She brought an image of Michael to the forefront of her mind, curious bright blue eyes, flowing golden locks of hair, a smile, full of both confidence but also naivety, and the shadowy strong presence of his energy, placing her own essence upon it, chanting a few words.

A flurry of blinks, black and white shuttering as she felt her conscious zip it’s way away from her physical body and fly off elsewhere, landing with a bounce on a bed, yet not the one she was already on.

“Oh.” Brianna exclaimed, bringing her hands up off the sheets, eyes meeting with Michaels, who was thankfully not on his own bed, instead he sat at the desk across from it.

Michael couldn’t stop the smirk from reaching his face, head tilting at the brunette, who had appeared in his bed. “Hello there.”

A rosy blush erupted over Brianna’s cheeks as she scrambled off the centre of his bed and to the edge, trying to smooth out the bedding. “Uh, um. Sorry, I just…I didn’t mean to disturb you?”

“You’re not disturbing me.”

“I probably should’ve checked with you first. It’s not exactly nice to just pop into existence. I mean, it's rude and I don’t even know you all that well, so a little stupid on my part. Should I go?”

Michael, who was now in front of her, looking down, his smile still present. “You’re not disturbing me.”

“Oh.” Brianna brought her knees to her chest, glancing up at him through half-closed eyes. “Okay. So, um, do you usually spend your nights at your desk. I know you draw but this late?”

“Inspiration struck.”

Brianna nodded slowly, glancing at the desk, where several papers lay scattered, a collection of dark lines, a rare few with colour. “Can I see?”

Michael hummed, reaching over to collect the most recent three he had drawn, handing them to her, taking his own spot to sit down next to her. “Don’t judge them. I’m not an artist.”

Brianna disregarded this, shaking her head at him. She’d seen the sketches before, and it was pretty clear he held some level of artistic ability. She looked at the first one, on top of the three.

It was a garden, one side of it was a vibrant green, lush grass harbouring rows of flowers, blue, pink and yellow, facing upwards to the tall, old-looking trees, birds seen in the branches as they flew off from a halved bird bath.

The other half was almost the same, but the colours weren’t there, this side was done in the black pencil, all the colours dull and gone, the flowers were dying, lying on the ground against the ash-like grass. The branches on the trees had fallen off, leaving stark sticks and empty hollows where healthy wood would reside.

Brianna handed it back to Michael, resuming her inspection. The second was of an older woman, short, dark blunt hair, a grimace sat on her face, something akin to a menacing smile. An eerie feeling sat in Brianna’s gut.

“That’s my guardian, the one I told you about. Miriam Mead.”

She presented a smile, to hide how she felt about the picture. “Yes, I remember. You’ll have to tell me more about her one day, after all, she’s the one who taught you basically everything you know, right?”

Michael dipped his head, beaming. “Yes. She took me in and led me down the right path.”

“The right path that led you to being arrested?”

“Yes.” He replied simply, not catching her meaning and plucked the sketch from her hands, revealing the one underneath.

It was..well, it was Brianna. Her brunette hair flowing down, shaping her face down to her sharp jaw, a hint of a smile that reflected in her blue eyes, innocent and well-meaning.

The picture echoed how Michael thought of Brianna. He saw the good in her, which he thought was hard to find in this world. To find someone who wouldn’t judge you, or expect you to be anything but who you are.

And she was intelligent, he took in the words she had told him during their study sessions, attempting to find every color of her that she would allow him to see, and maybe one day, he would be welcomed into the kaleidoscope of her world.

But he would settle for the girl who sat beside him, her eyes glued to the sketch as his were glued to her.

“It’s…lovely.” Brianna traced the waves of her hair. “I don’t think I’ve seen myself look that carefree in a while.”
She handed the drawing back to him, the three papers reunited as they were and Michael spelled them to glide over to the desk. “Did you come here to talk?”

Brianna turned her body to face his, shuffling back to create more space between them. “Yes.”

He mirrored her behaviour, settling his hands across his lap, waiting for her lead in the conversation.

“Why am I doing the seven wonders?”

“Because it’s a fair exchange. And I want you to see how powerful you are. I know your curse has altered your confidence. But you are so much more, Brianna.”

Brianna shook her head, toying with the blanket under her hand. “It doesn’t matter. Regardless of it, I’m certain that I’m not going to achieve all of them. I believe you might, though.”

“Then, believe in that. And be by my side as we figure it out. Can you do that for me?”

Soft eyes pleaded for her to land on his level. He didn’t want to walk this road, completely alone. He could, but he thought a friend could help. And, if she was by his side, the other witches would look at him in a better light. They’d see that he’d give them a chance.

And Michael wasn’t lying when he asked her to join him. He needed her, to have someone on his side, without ulterior motives.

“I’ll do it. But not just for you.” Brianna held out her hand, an open offer. “For my coven.”

Michael stared at the hand, frowning.

“Deal?” Brianna watched him, waiting for her gesture to be returned. “We lock hands for a moment of agreement. It signifies that we connect on the same level and will try what we can to support each other.

Michael took hold of her hand, moving it up and down, lips pressed together, content with the arrangement they had come to.

“I should probably head home. That’s all I needed to ask for now. But, Michael, remember that you are more than what Ariel or what anyone might place on you. There’s more to the world than this academy or your guardian.”

Michael blinked at her, his mind trying to pin down the point of her words, not that they didn’t make sense, but just how they were helpful to him.

Of course, there was more to the world than the academy or Miriam Mead, but he needed them in order to reach his fate, to appease his father and tear down the whole world, reshape it into a new mould that would have his father raining praise and love upon him.

And they helped him. They had both opened their homes to offer him a space to exist on his journey to bigger and better ideas.

“Okay.” He replied, giving her a nod, drifting away from what Brianna wanted him to honestly hear. “I like your pyjamas.”

“What? Oh.” Brianna had forgotten she wasn’t in normal day clothes and instead, underneath her jacket, she had chosen to wear her button up set, a background of blue, with an array of bright yellow bananas spinning around it.

The blush returned as she tried to pull her jacket closer together, hiding the adorable pyjamas. “I didn’t really think to change before I came here.”

Michael refused her embarrassment, touching the edge of her sleeve that peeked out from her jacket. “I like it. Maybe I’ll include it in my next sketch.”

She swatted his hand away, lips rising to her cheeks and covered her face, leaving enough space between her fingers to look at him.

His own face was beaming, imaging his next sketch of Brianna in her fruity nightwear, a blood rush to her cheeks, warming her face and gazing at him, eyelashes flicking every other second.

“Goodnight, Brianna.”

He placed his hand on her arm, above the abundance of fabric bananas, a warm sensation stirring up as the spell fell from his lips, sending her back to where her physical body really was.

“See you soon, Langdon.”

With those last words, Brianna fell back against her cushion, in her own bed, vision fluttering as her mind dove into the sweet, honey of a dreamless sleep.

For Michael, however, he was not as fortunate as she was.

An empty room with a dark, damp smell met all his senses, a sickness touched his skin, crawling and squirming just atop, like worms trying to burrow inside and claim him as their new residence.

Every cell of his body yelled for him to keep going, through to the next room and the next until he could find somewhere to scrub and scrub until his skin was red and raw, purified and cleansed.

The next room was different, more of a hallway with a narrow platform to walk on, rivers of deep scarlett liquid running alongside, jets of fire bursting forth every few seconds, just missing the edge of his lower limbs.

Voices emanated from the other side and when he sped up to reach them, the platform extended, the room lengthening. His breath was quick, a sweat forming, dripping from his forehead and falling down, meeting the floor, sinking sidewards into the blood, sizzling loudly.

To slow and quiet was the clue to reaching the other side, a will of his heart to collect itself and to verge into logic.

Walls dripped with a black ooze, lanterns lit in odd patterns, diagonally, close to the floor, upside down and shining out towards the centre, where three figures were.

Michael was going to hurl into the nearest corner.

A large stone bench, runes carved into the side, held a body, trying to wriggle free of the binds that held it, numbed screams failing to resonate any means. A desperate plea for naught.

Michael crossed to it, his head bowed lowly with a nod to the other occupants, blurred faces, a man of shorted stature with a wicked smile he could just make out. And the other around the same height as the man, but a woman with black hair, holding a dagger.

Michael blinked and the dagger was handed to him, an offer or a necessity, he didn’t know.

His hands clasped it, the cool feel of metal against his raging temperature, the contrast of what could be.

“No.” The woman spoke. “You are what will be. Everything else will not matter. Not when it’s all done.”

The woman moved from the stone bench, gesturing to the body laid there, a flickering movement as a strong sulphurous mist moved across the top of it. The body slumped, muscles slacked and mind deadened, only eyes wide with fear.

He took this moment to fully take it in. Terrified blue eyes met his sincere stare, feeling the weight of the dagger in his hands, heavier than it had been a second before.

Brianna. It was Brianna.

Michael snapped to the woman, his grip tighter now. “What am I supposed to do?”

She gave a dark chuckle, eyes sliding to his hand and to the terrified brunette before him. “Seal your fate, Michael. Do what your father wants. What you were born to do. Ruin humanity. Don’t you want that, Michael?”

It was Miss Mead, by his side as she had promised to be, wholly devoted to him and the words of what she believed in.

It was her after all, who had saved him from a loveless family, too afraid of what Michael was and what he could be, and welcomed him into her home, like a wounded bird found by the wayside, rescued and nursed to health.

“I don’t know what I want.”

The chuckle repeated, a sound that had never brought much comfort to Michael, instead it had made him feel inferior, not on the same wavelength to another, missing a vital part of this puzzle that other people seemed to dominate.

Michael’s eyes lit up with fury, dropping the dagger to his side, grimacing at the woman. “You need to help me, not mock me.”

She brushed off his reaction, motioning to the still girl. “Get rid of her, Michael. That’s what you need to do.”

Michael's gaze flicked from the dagger, to Miss Mead and then rested at the brunette, raising his arm slowly, at a reluctant pace. He then took a deep breath, with both of the figures now silently demanding his performance.

“Come now, child.” Miss Mead whispered. “Your father will be so proud. You want that, don’t you?”
The dagger shone in the sconce-lit room, gathering up momentum and seizing the deeply varied energy of the source holding it.

Michael thought of his father, his prayers and plea’s answered quick and sharp with a simple fall of a knife, a simple sacrifice to summon his path ahead, glory and ruin wrapped up in with a bow, held out like a gift given to a King.

He would be one. A King of the underworld, a ruler of fire, brimstone, misfortune and the like. He would be one with his father, a prodigal, a symbol of pride, passed down a generation.

His hands both gripped on the handle, the metal would’ve melted if not for being cast in hellfire itself, immune though still a piercing cold, unaffected by feverish heat.

Then it plunged down, soaring to its destination, to rip down into a heart and save them all.

But a voice spoke, soft and sweet, stopping the dagger just before it sliced through the first layer of clothing, like a hymn, stilling all those in the room.

“Michael?”

Brianna saw the dagger, focusing on it with a look of pity. “You’re going to kill me? Is that what you do to your friends, Michael? Is this who you are?

The hands that held the sharp blade shook, half over her body and half not, his mind thrown into purgatory, willing himself to drown off her voice.

She didn’t matter. She shouldn’t matter. She was just a stupid girl who had talked to him a few times.

“Michael.” Miss Mead called from his side.

Hands steadied, a storm of ice and fire returning, and it was elevated again, ready to take up the same path.

Michael could do this. He didn’t need her. She would be useless in his plan for destruction.

“It’s okay.” Brianna summoned the words. “I understand.”

The dagger hit the ground, clinking as it spun across, finding its home in the ooze-filled corner, safe from being lodged into hope-filled organs.

Miss Mead shrieked, hitting the side of the stone bench, yanking Michael by his shoulders. “You were never good enough. Just a damaged pathetic little boy who could never follow the rules.”

The familiar face of his guardian sunk, skin crawling back and flicking back and forth, morphing into that of his first ever “home”.

“You can’t even do what you think you’re destined to do.” Constance spat at him, her shrill voice making him squeeze his eyes closer, shrinking back, the stone scratching at his hands.

Michael’s legs gave out, huddling down, sinking under the gaze of the older woman, wishing she would just disappear, just go back to whatever place she had materialised and bring back Miss Mead. At least she had fed and cared for him, not whatever this current one had offered as a mother, preferring to leave him in solitude.

“Please. Just leave.” Michael begged, tears rushing from his eyes. “I’ll do something else. Just not her.”

“Why? She doesn't offer you anything. She isn’t what your father wants for you.”

“She’s my friend.”

Constance bellowed with a warped laugher, clutching her side, a choke forming from her many years of cigarette infused moments.

“A friend, Michael? Really?”

He cast a glance to the brunette, her sea-like eyes closed, her breath shallow. It was like she was sleeping, lips resting gently, eyelids twitching, hands clasped together, like an angel at ease.

“Yes.” Michael summoned the knife back, the ooze falling off in chunks before it reached his vision.

He raised the dagger and plunged it into the blonde woman, her mouth opening in horror, stumbling back, a sharp growl ushered from the back of her throat.

Michael pulled it out and flung it sideways, avoiding anything it could then harm. And he stepped back, a triumphant smile ready.

Until, his own stomach twisted, pierced through by the same dagger, held behind by the man, and dug further in and around, the side squelching, hollowing out where his organs should be.

And then the room emptied. Constance, the man and Brianna dispersed into mist as he fell back, the same black ooze in the room now pouring from his stomach, making him jolt and twist, a sickening touch absorbing into his bones.

And it was just him, melting into the cold hard ground, sulfur and sweat, hot and humid. No lulling words of comfort. No last words exchanged. A fiery dose of hurt and abandonment, gifted to him as a violent and unwelcome parcel.

Chapter Text

“Did he show anything that could reflect a cause of concern? Did he hurt anyone, or make something bad happen?”

Brianna, who was sitting in the chair before Cordelia’s desk, moved her head side to side, taking note of her Supreme’s mood.

Tense shoulders, dry gnawed at lips and a repetitive pace, wearing down the bottom of her shoes.

Michael had, in certain terms, presented some things that weren't usual. He wasn’t exactly not aligned with off-center ideas, unexpected powers that landed him in trouble, achieving thought-unachievable tasks and finding the balance between worlds with a quick trip to hell with nothing more than a blink of his eyes.

But he was still relatively new to the witch/warlock world and was most likely sheltered from his life.

“Not totally more than the usual. I mean, you know what he has done for our coven. I would say he can probably do more, with time and persistence.”

Cordelia looked at her for the second time, her mind abuzz with the possibilities, worry etching further into her expression.

“But there’s a chance something could come from this. Something cataclysmic. I had the vision.”

“There is a chance.” Brianna lets out a sigh, adjusting her position on the chair to completely face the older woman. “But I see more in him. I feel- He doesn’t have anyone. He said that he was left out when he was younger. It seems like almost anyone who could’ve been a role model kicked him into the dust. That is until he met his current guardian.”

Cordelia stopped her pacing, eyes straight to Brianna. “And who are they?”

“He hasn’t told me everything, but I know that she found him in a time of need, she’s very devoted to satanist views and that she’s apparently an amazing cook.”

“Well, that’s something.” Teeth met her lips again. “If something else happens or you find out anything, you will report back to me. Immediately, or it could harm our coven.”

Brianna nodded. “Of course, Miss Cordelia. Coven above all.”

That particular statement had been brewing amongst the girls for a while, a phrase that they had clung to to solidify their loyalty to their coven and place of belonging.

“Have the girls taken you through some of the wonders? I know that Myrtle has been prescribing you personal study time.”

“Zoe and Queenie told me about their own time with it, and took me through the basics, I’m still figuring it out…”

Brianna closed her mouth, flicking her gaze to the side before she continued. “Miss Cordelia, what happens if I don’t succeed, or even if I don’t….make it through?”

In the room, the airy wind seems to have been plucked from it, like a marionette string thrown across the stage and discarded.

It seemed like an obvious answer. She would either disappoint the coven or just perish, disintegrate into the air as if she never existed in the first place, leaving only the memories of her former life for her sisters to pick up the pieces, now a past tense when mentioned.

But what if she somehow got through it with flying colors? On that slight chance, would that mean that the warlocks would retreat and bunker down for a few years until one of them could find another sliver of relevance to prop themselves up against the coven?
And how would Michael feel? His eyes were glistening with a confident desire when the topic of him summoning his power in this competitive way.

Brianna felt Cordelia beside her, kneeling down with a hand reaching for her own arm. “Brianna, I am unsure of the future but I know I will do whatever I can to ensure your safety. You matter deeply, not only to this coven, but to me and to the world. I believe in you, and I think you should have more confidence, my sweet girl.”

Cordelia meant it, with everything in her worried body. She lived and died with each of her girls. They were her family, her heart and soul. And any harm to them was a sharp pierce to her own being.

Blue eyes watered, the girl’s hand relaxing under her Supreme’s touch, a soothing sensation reverberating down her body.

“I’ll try my best.”

Cordelia stood up, gently letting Brianna go, returning to the other side of her desk with a soft smile. “I know you will. We’ll keep an eye on Michael in the meantime, but I will take your information on board. He did do some wonderfuls things for our coven, I won’t forget that, but I still don’t think we can put our trust entirely in Hawthorne’s school, nor him.”

She nodded her head towards the door. “Now go out and do something for yourself. These past months have been far too dreary.”

And so Brianna found herself in the center of her shared room, lit candles circled around her, her legs relaxed in a criss cross position.

Her breath was slowing as each minute ticked by, hands to the side and eyes shut. She was reaching into the astral, reaching and pulling out to the energy contained and spread throughout, ripples of kaleidoscopic auras unfolded before her, inviting her to leap her own energy to theirs.

She bounced to the nearest one, a calm river of green, blue and white and felt a wave of assured power caress her own. It was a familiar energy, one that was mere meters from her in the physical world.

Mallory.

Mallory was sitting in her own bed, watching over Brianna for any signs of distress, while also writing in a notebook, scribbling down different portions for herbal remedies, a hobby she had picked up in recent times, an ease from the near constant fascinating magic developments.

Brianna, in her non-physical form, inhaled the scent, it closely resembled lilies and persimmons, the sparse space expanding as she let go of the closest essence and stumbled on through.

A few words slipped from her lips, and she soared upwards, floating above the academy, departing from the souls within, a cacophony of rainbow sung out to her as she crossed the edge of the academy’s threshold, calling her back.

Brianna took a deep breath in, grounding herself in the ethereal existence of this place, and her head fell back, tuning into the energy, what was once familiar was clearer than those unknown to one.

And she found it. A rippling, fiery, almost anxious spherical essence, captivating all of her senses, reaching out to fly towards the area where it resided.

“Remember, it's not exactly astral projection, it’s just finding someone’s energy.”

Mallory’s voice sounded distant, literally planes of existence away, but it still found itself rooted in Brianna’s brain, holding her tautly. It loosened and allowed for a gilde to continue, slow but steady, and flickering back to a focus on energy rather than a physical location.

“What does the energy you are focusing on look like?”
Brianna was now on top, miles above the source of her interest, noting the colours that she could see.

“Red…Purple…and White.”

“Good.” Mallory cleared her throat. “What does it feel like?”

Curious hands reached out towards the ground, towards the direction. She could hear a humming, dull but insistent, and it vibrated upon her fingertips and down to her wrists. Anxiety and discomfort rose above, surfacing her skin, yet not embedding in her bones.

“Afraid. Out of Place.” Brianna leaned further, taking another profound breath. “But full of power.”

“In control, or out of control?”

“Both.”

“What do you mean?”

“It’s…” She pulled a hand back, and shook off the fiery essence. “Intense but it isn’t showing that it is harmful. At least, not towards me.”

Mallory had not dropped her book to the side, eyes on Brianna, watching her physical self, peacefully still apart from the flittering eyelids, back and forth, and up and around, mind circling with each sensation.

“Do you feel safe?”

Brianna was silent. It would’ve seemed like she lost the connection but Mallory knew she hadn’t. She needed to know how her friend was processing her current state. And what exactly it was that the coven was dealing with. How she could help her sisters to not be doomed to the end of time, and secure her own safety with them at the same time.

“...Yes.” Brianna’s voice came through eventually, strong and certain, a vouch for her other friend.

Mallory pulled back, picking up her book again and crossed her ankles, satisfied with the back and forth. “Then, it’s up to you to continue.”

Brianna took that in stride, leaping down to the ground and held her hands to the very soul of her newest friend, Michael Langdon.

The air around it emitted equal parts sulphurous fumes, petrichor and hints of sandalwood.

It was an odd mix, an allude to something darker, a familiar comforting scent and a glance of self-concerned fondness. But it wasn’t completely bad, or even totally bad at all.

Briana slid those thoughts of Michael’s scent to the side, placing them into some side compartment of her brain, to ponder off at a later time.

Touch was her next decision.

Her hands clasped the sphere, the fiery surface simmering her skin, just enough to register the heat, and the vision of the soul moved, like a shaking of a head, a reflex response.

She moved her hands around to the back of what she was currently seeing, and it happened again, this time, the scent of sulphur growing stronger and the temperature rose, sizzling where her fingertips rested.

“Ah, shit.”

Then the scent lessened, and the sphere spun beneath her hands, numbing back down to the first fiery sensation.

Brianna had no idea what that meant. Had she upset the balance of his energy by placing her own to it? Or was it a natural protective forcefield to reject intruders to one’s space.

“It’s Brianna.”

There was no response, only the sphere stopped spinning, and she felt the need to let go but held them up in the space between, a surrender-like position.

“Michael, if you can hear me, or even sense me, can you-.”

A thundering crack deafened Brianna’s ears, sending her shooting back through the air, thousands of energies passing her by as she found herself back above the academy and unceremoniously flung back into her physical body.

The door ajar, and a desperate face met her vision once the fogginess dissipated and all her limbs were back in function, her sense following quickly behind.

“So, is that a yes or a no to the tarot reading?” The high pitched voice of Coco St Pierce sounded in her ears. “Someone recommended that I come to you for that, you know, to like to read my future or something. I need it desperately, I swear. The weight of my sanity relies upon it.”

Brianna held her knees to her chest, coughing at the now blown out candles and lifted her head to the blonde woman. “Now’s not really the time, Coco.”

Coco blinked, looking into the room, eyebrows lifting as she actually noticed the state of the room. “Because you’re summoning something? Miss Cordelia said that we weren’t into that kind of thing. I don’t know how I feel about seances. A psychic once told me to avoid any sort of thing like that.”

“You’re a witch, Coco.” Mallory prompted, lips quirking into a smirk, on the edge of the bed now. “I think you might witness a few things like that. Plus it’s not a seance, it’s an experiment.”

Coco’s mouth opened and closed, hand back on the doorknob. “Sorry. Bad time. I’ll leave you two to your experiments. I’m an ally, I swear.”

“No, that’s not-” Brianna called out, her own expression matching Mallory’s.

Through the door, the other witch replied. “I don’t care what you two get up to in your spare time. I just would really love to know what is in my future, so if you could schedule me in sometime, I’d be deeply appreciative.”

“Fine.” Brianna stretched up, flopping on her bed, her limbs aching from the time spent sitting perfectly still. “We can do a tarot reading after dinner time. Just let me conserve my energy for now.”

“Yes, thank you! I’ll go now.”

Footsteps retreated excitedly away from the entrance of their room, ecstatic with their achievement and retreating back to join the few witches who were downstairs, all engrossed in their own studies, with a side of healthy gossip.

Brianna turned her head to Mallory, allowing herself a relaxing sigh. “That was more tiring than I thought.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment.”

A pillow met Mallorys face, knocking her to the side, which elicited a giggle and a content chuckle from her friend across the room.

“Thank you for teaching me that.” She hugged her hands, scrunching up her body, allowing the softness of her bed to envelope the heaviness of her tired body. “Maybe, it’ll help us.”

Chapter Text

Brianna would swear to anyone who she would come across this week that all her two hundred and six bones, residing inside her body, ached.

From Monday to Thursday, she had been put through a rigorous training routine to prepare for the Seven Wonders. Monday included a full-on study day, checking on the basics and pulling through to more advanced studies, to give her an edge if that would be required.

Tuesday and Wednesday, the young witch was drilled through the process of the test and made her first tries at some of them, taught by varying Tutors, though Queenie and Zoe were the main ones, both taking pride in teaching her as well as amusement at the opportunity to boss her around, with the most friendly intentions.

Thursday was a rest day, where she laid in bed for hours, and then eventually summoned the energy to venture into the gardens and connect to nature, joined unsurprisingly by Mallory, their topic of discussion far away from the upcoming events. They focused on the symbolisms of butterflies, moths and dragonflies, and how connected witches are with certain insects, an intuitive choice for a familiar or a friend in nature.

Mallory herself already had a flurry of butterflies that would follow behind her when she was out in the garden, busy with her usual drawings, note taking and collecting herbs, half for her, the others for the greenhouse.

A moth had landed on Brianna, but then just as hastily flew away and up into the nearest oak tree, still but watching from afar, time needed to gain one another’s trust and to find a safe place to land.

And, now to Friday, Brianna was on the cool flooring of the parlour room, groaning as she rubbed the side of her torso.

Above her, Queenie was shaking her head. “How the hell did you get the chair to hit you in the stomach?”

Brianna blinked up, rolling her eyes. “I didn’t mean to. Plus, I’ve done it ten times already and it was fantastic, I just focused a little too hard this time.”

Queenie hummed, stepping back further from the girl on the floor, gesturing to the space. “On to the next one, let's do transmutation again.”

One of her favourites, Simply because it was fun, moving at lightning speed, disappearing from one place to the next in the blink of an eye.

Brianna nodded, thinking up her next destination and smiled brightly at her friend, before zipping away, and brown eyes darted around to find the location that she was now at.

Brianna swung down from the top of a pillar, securing her legs against the stone and leaning down, the blood rushing to her head as she faced upside down.

“Looking for someone?”

Queenie’s head whipped up, and just as fast, Brianna was gone again.

“You know, people would never assume that witches are absolutely stellar at playing hide and seek. It’s just in our blood, I suppose.”

The brunette was now outside the window, looking in, face blank and unassuming, a hand coming up to acknowledge where she now stood. “I’d say I’m…”

Brianna gently tapped Queenie on the back of her shoulder, earning a content smile from her. “Doing just fine.”

“Alright, alright. At least let’s talk about how you feel with it coming closer? Nervous?”.

“A little.” Brianna shuffled her feet, reaching to lean against the archway of the door. “But I'm excited. It’s something different. I don’t have high expectations but I’m excited to see what I can do, to represent our coven and to do all that with a friend at my side, even if it means that I won’t be at his level.”

“You really consider him a friend?”

Brianna, her head up the the ceiling, the familiar golden blond halo of hair appearing in her mind, nodded and swept her eyes back to Queenie’s, meeting them directly.

“I do.”

She did. And she was sure about that fact. Of course, these things could change in the future but for the present moment, this was true.

Queenie shrugged, motioning towards the narrow table on the other side of the room. “Then let’s continue.”

On the table was a geode of the amethyst crystal, with miniscule lines of pure gold almost chaining it in, the nests of crystal expanding through, as if reaching for the sunlight they thought they’d never see again.

And it glowed as the two stepped towards it. “Who did this belong to?”

Queenie posed the question, waiting for Brianna to pick it up and offer some suggestions, this section of the challenge unknown as she had never tried her hand at divination before.

The source of it was different to everyone, all still a form of divination and valid to each witch. For some, it was a simple feeling or knowing thought that popped into your being and immediately led you to the answer. Another was one was led, by feeling and sound, heard only in their own head to signify the objects or location around, a jingling of keys or scuffing of worn shoes if one needed to be guided to an entryway.

A third one, was a memory of a time when the object was used, pulling the hands that touched it into a pocket of time, experiencing the moment for themselves.

Brianna was fortunate enough to tune in with the third, the room around them warping as soon as she touched the amethyst stone, walls flickering, some of the previous portraits now gone and the furniture a few decades older.

She felt her own throat feel constricted, coughing and clearing it to gain some form of freedom, and glanced to the doorway where voices carried through, louder as they appeared before her.”

“You shouldn’t let her get to you, she’s vain and can’t spare an intelligent thought.” A deep feminine voice vocalised, belonging to a raven haired tall woman, strolling inside to the now roaring fireplace.

She threw some paper into the flames, the words which had an illumination on the notes faded, crinkling away until they were mere pieces of ash. Whatever was on there could not be seen, but the clear effect rippled on the other witch’s face.

Smaller than Brianna herself, with a constellation of freckles, light brown hair and a scar covering her face, from the right side of her chin, up to her left eyebrow as it fades into her hairline in that direction.

“She’s…s…”

The taller one of the two shook her head, retreating from the fireplace to the narrow table, exactly the same as the one in the present day. The crystal, which looked the exact same as the one in Brianna’s hand, was snatched up, and the woman lifted her friend’s hand, placing it firmly in their hand.

“Speak now.” Her voice was gentle, urging her to come back to the room, ground her down to earth, not into the chaos of her own mind.

“Victoria, I am so sick of her. She’s a vile woman. I don’t understand how they let her stay here at the academy.”

Victoria Bresford, renowned potioneer, who had her own portrait with a delightful plaque, listing off her many achievements - a powerful witch, a master of creating new and unique elixirs or tonics and an innovative genius.

Brianna would definitely be telling Mallory that she got to see Victoria in the flesh, memory or not, the two would often stare at her portraits, curious about who she was and if any of their current cohort would reach the amount of potential and success that the older witch had.

The woman with her was unknown to Brianna but she supposed, this was the likely holder of the crystal and she’d still find out.

“I’m aware of that, but you need to focus on yourself. You won’t get to participate in the Seven Wonders if you continue to shy away from the harsher things in life. Miss Mimi is gracious but she wants the coven to be strong once she is gone, not under the guidance of an uncertain girl.”

It’s a brutal truth but one that needed to be heard.

“I’ll work on it.” The brunette nodded, clutching the crystal tighter, her lifeline to this earth. “You found and worked on the crystal for me, so I can speak with ease, and now I can work towards…something else.”

Victoria pulled a hand from the side of her body, moving upwards to her friend’s forehead, fingertips tracing the scar down and she caressed the skin below the neck, lifting it gently.

“You have so much that you should be confident in, you only need to find it.”

Brown eyes from the taller witch, flickered up and met deep green ones, a clash of hope in the first verse, the vulnerable emotion beneath the second. She didn’t need to ask if she had lost her voice again as this was an entirely different effect that stripped the other girl of her voice, mouth open slightly and pupils dilating in seconds.

“And you’ll find it.” Victoria promised, moving a stray hair that had fallen between them, tucking it behind the brunette’s ear. “I swear on everything that you will.”

A call from the hallway jolted both girls from their reverie, the space widening and distance enveloping the room.

“I bid you goodnight, sweet witch.”

Victoria, her flowy black dress gliding behind her, swept out of the room, leaving the scent of blackberries and irises following, easing the rushed departure.

The brunette spun around to the mirror behind her, grasping the crystal with both hands, holding it to her sternum, meeting her own green eyes.

With a deep breath, she began to speak, emboldened by both the crystal and the sacred moment from minutes ago. “I, Edith Covell, will partake in the Seven Wonders. I will stand my own and find my own light in this world.”

The girl slid the crystal into her pocket, smiling at the secret place, which was a new addition to the coven’s dresses, commissioned by their Supreme who was leading them to a brighter future and would embolden them all with confidence and success.

Edith slipped out of the room and disappeared from Brianna’s sight.

Edith Covell.

The world brightened to white nothingness, then to a flash of purple before relaxing back down to the normalcy of the modern world, curious dark brown eyes reflecting at Brianna.

“You back to the now world, Harton?”

Brianna nodded, clearing her throat which was now as clear as it normally was, and placed the crystal back down, letting out a breath.

“Follow me.”

From one room to the next they passed, passing by other witches, classes and even the kitchen, where fresh cinnamon rolls were being made, and stopped at the room just past it.

The Bresford Room, with rows of potions ingredients, various animal eyeballs, herbs, vials of liquids and books piled. This particular room was different to the other classroom, with the desks and chairs in a circle shape, and a teachers desk in the middle.

But Brianna didn’t need to see any of that again. She darted towards the portrait, and looked for any signs of the other girl.

Queenie snorted, crossing her arms. “The name, Brianna.”

Brianna shot her an annoyed look, focusing back on the portrait. “I know, just give me a second.”

The painted brown eyes seemed to lock with Brianna’s own, and she followed their gaze, to the middle desk. She moved through a gap in between the tables and opened up the first drawer, digging through the piles of papers, some new and some faded, information from varying centuries, until she found a solid object, pulling it from the depths of the drawer, and holding it up to Queenie’s eyeline.

“Edith Covell.” Brianna revealed the locket, clicking it open and revealing the interior. A miniature portrait of a witch, with brunette hair and green eyes, a scar across her face and a shy yet comfortable smile. “I knew it from the memory but I needed solid evidence, for both the point and my own mind.”

Queenie looked from the locket to her friend, grin widening and her hand rose in a clap, genuinely surprised by the finding. “Solid work. I think this might mean our training is done. I think you’ll be fine with the challenge ahead.”

Brianna met her friend with her own matching grin, and tugged the locket back her way. “I aim to succeed, and under your worthy guardianship, I felt more comfortable to do so. But for now, let's rest and mentally prepare for the time ahead.”

“I’ll see you later. Go and join Mallory in the garden, she’s been absorbed in the new book Myrtle ordered for her.”

“Will do.”

Brianna waited for Queenie to leave before she turned the locket over, closing the inside part and touching the engraving with her thumb. She had only glimpsed it before but it was clear before her now.

My sweet witch.

Her eyes left the locket to glide back to Victoria’s strong gaze, the ghost of a proud look remaining, fitting to the confident witch’s status and personality.

And with a satisfied feeling with glimmers of pure adoration for the two she had just witnessed, she placed the locket back in the drawers, beneath the plethora of papers, for the two to stay in this room, together and connected forever more.

Others might have asked her why she was so affected, why the two had pierced her heart so deeply within a quick span of time.

The truth is they reminded her of her parents, both in appearance and of personality, polar opposites, one reserved and one certainly confident, yet the matching pieces of the puzzle in their own story. Two pieces she missed deeply, who loved her unconditionally and would be immensely proud of their daughter.

She hoped that their travels were treating them well, as they had always wanted to travel yet one had always had their insecurities impacting on the outlook. Brianna herself, had been the final point in convincing her more quiet mom to branch out and explore the world, assuring her that she was safe at Miss Robichaux’s academy and that they would see each other again soon. And that was all she needed to do. Because if they were the puzzle pieces that linked together, she was the glue that flourished and held them even closer together, cherished and secure.

Brianna let a few tears fall, lingering on the close bond of her family, sending good wishes and a protection charm to them, before closing the door, bidding a goodbye to the women within and procuring two cinnamon rolls for her next venture into the garden.

Chapter Text

Did the strings of fate pull so tightly that one could feel them each time they moved? Did it wound down your back, embedding itself in one's spine, clutching each vertebra in its grasp, willing it to move at its command.

How would one resist? Could they? Or were we all just pulling ourselves along that very string, inch by inch, straight down the path that the universe laid out for us.

From centuries ago and lightyears away, time as an essence is fickle, honest yet untruthful, tangible in one’s mind but not as a concept, held so tightly by the human mind, yet the astral commands no time, yet everything at once, all the history and all the future, happening right now, just a thought between the space.

But today, for the coven of Miss Robichaux’s and the Hawthorne academy, felt like fate. A moment in time to seal their own, and define them for past, present and now.

Brianna met blues eyes across the way, warm and familiar for her, cold and distant to others, a mix of friend and foe.

Her own eyes stared back, drenched with nerves, and felt his own reflecting back, hidden beneath the solid facade.

Ariel was behind him, the usual smirk upon his face, eliciting a nauseous feeling to bubble up in her throat.

“Our two competitors, come forward and greet each other, start off the day with a levelled welcome.” Ariel drawled, dwindling down the fire so the air cleared enough for everyone to be seen. “After all, we all come to earth with grace, blessed by our befores.”

Brianna chose to step forward first, landing in front of Michael, hand held out to him. “Ready, Langdon?”

Michael returned her small smile, reaching for her hand, and he shook it firmly. “As ever, Harton.”

“Lovely. Now, can we get the damn show on the road.” Madison piped up, a roll of her eyes following, she leant to the side with an artificial smile. “I’d rather not be cooped up here all day.”

With that, the Seven Wonders had begun.

“The Seven Wonders.” Myrtle announced, at the head of the group as they entered into an empty stable building, located at the back of the upper field of the academy. “A test to locate and find our next Supreme, and whittle out those who shall not rise to such a thing.”

Myrtle narrowed her eyes at Michael, but neither two of the participants saw this, only focused on one another as they lined up across, finding their place to stand for the tests.

“No one test could satisfy our need for a great leader, the list of seven manifested, and has been tried and tried again by a sprawling list of powerful, dedicated witches, a faultless test, really. You are up first, darling.”

For the first time since they entered, Brianna looked away, finding the reassuring look upon Myrtle's face.

“Telekinesis. Use your abilities to summon an object towards yourself or in a direction of your choosing.”

Brianna skimmed the room, landing on an old picture frame, the remnants of whatever it contained now yellowing and in tatters. She lifted her chin, holding a hand up, willing it to her.

The frame unhooked from the wall and flew into her outstretched hand easily. A point for the witches.

“Nicely done.” Cordelia said from the side, a warm smile, worry still etched into her expression.

Brianna hadn’t turned back around in time before she saw Michael before her, an old horse whip, leather flaking off of it in bits, summoned to his own self.

“Ah.” Ariel exclaimed. “Now the next.”

Patience was a virtue that many witches held tightly to, one could assume this warlock tended to throw it to the wayside, ambition pursuing.

“Yes, Concilicum is next. Control of the mind. Mr Langdon, you can start.”

Brianna stepped towards the voice of Myrtle and let Michael have the attention fall on him. It also happened she was curious to see what he would choose to do for this particular one.

And it gave her time to think of hers.

Michael took his time to look around the room, scanning for an idea, before a sly grin broke upon his face.

Madison, who had been sporting a bored expression, most likely wishing she were elsewhere (certainly not back in hell though), shone with a smile and grasped Zoe, whose attention had been on Brianna, and spun her forward, hands finding shoulders.

The whip, now used like a choir teacher to signal the notes, lifted up and down as Michael directed them to dance together, his mind focused, confident and unperturbed.

Madison grumbles when they separate, shooting a mean look the Langdon boy’s way, leaving a confused Zoe to urge Brianna to start her own.

Behold launched himself to the right, hands up, now mirrored by the man before him, Pennypacker, and they clapped hands, to themselves, then to the others, then again, then again, A playful game.

“Now, its trans-”

Brianna zipped to the other side of the barn, crossing her arms. Transmutation was her thing, she’d excelled at it more than many things. So, she couldn’t help but brag about this one, it wouldn’t be long until she started to falter on some of the other seven wonders.

Michael shook his head at her, his grin enduring. “At least give me a fair chance.”

She zipped right next to him, standing beside the hay bale he was on. “I think you have way more than a fair chance.”

His grin widened, accepting her position and then he was gone, down the opposite side of the barn. “Fair enough.”

Brianna brushed the hay that had stuck to her side when she leant forward a moment before, taking a brief second to look at what would be the judging panel before speeding to the position she was in before, a long distance between the two competitors.

“I’d say so.” She chirped back.

Michael cocked his head at her happy tone, and lifted his own chin, a little message between them.

Then they switched positions, completely swapping to one another's stand in the barn.

“Alright, that's enough, you two” Ariel grumbled, shooting Cordelia a look, before trudging forward. “I believe Divination would be the fourth wonder.”

“Indeed it is.” Myrtle took over, with a slight roll of her eyes, her hands laid out to Michael when both of them came back to the centre, breaking eye contact when they reached the group again.

In the fiery haired woman's hand was a tiny portrait of a man. “Mr Lovelace, a pioneer of potions, he advanced the elements past anything his colleagues could achieve. Famously, he had a pocket watch that he had a pocket watch that he checked every hour upon the hour. Where is it, Mr Langdon?”

Zoe summoned the enchanted crystals for Michael to sift through, a key way for divination. It focused the mind and let in the energy of the aforementioned object, to lean in on where it could be found.

Michael took less than ten seconds with the crystals, passing by Ariel to collect the pocket watch from behind a wooden pillar, hidden beneath some straws of hay. He dangled it from his hand, raising his eyebrows at the current supreme.

Michael seemed unimpressed by the ease in which he found it, a challenge he had wanted to welcome, to both even the score and prolong his time spent challenging Brianna.

“Seventy thirty six, and three seconds, if you wanted to know.” Michael drawled, handing it off to Baldwin Pennypacked, who gladly accepted it, looking at the warlock in awe.

Cordelia worriedly turned to Brianna, who was watching Michael closely. “Bri, why don’t you take a turn at the marbles. Zoe will tell you what you have to find.”

“Of course.” Brianna nodded at Michael, flickering to Zoe to find the challenge.

“A hair clip. Owned by none other than Myrtle Snow herself. Red and matte, clean as a whistle. Where is it?”

Brianna had leant down to the ground, hands wading across the air above the spelled crystals, willing her this way and that.

Her mind feels heavy, like a sludge of mud has made itself home and she’s stuck in it.

“I…”

She felt someone move forward. They offered words of encouragement, a gentle tone from her guardian, who ensured any worry she felt was not reflected in her words.

Focus. The word was projected into her mind, soothing the corners of her brain and providing a clear way forward.

She stood, her legs unsteady beneath her and beelined for Michael, who raised his eyebrows at her incoming body but didn’t move an inch.

She stopped just before they would collide and hovered her hand across his chest, skimming to the left then to the right. With a careful look to him, sensing he didn't mind the proximity, she plucked the hair clip from the pocket on his suit, and held it up to him.

“Found it.”

Brianna’s eyes inched upwards, to eventually meet his after staring too long at his chest, and found herself in a whirlpool of blue, the threat of tugging her under and spinning her into an eternity of trouble crashed into her, alluring yet frightening all at once.

“Yes, you did.”

A slow clap reverberated across the barn. “Well done. Now let’s keep this show on the road before we all have to start box dying our hair. I, for one, am not that impressed. But I suppose the next would have to be a sincere favorite of mine. Step up, Harton.”
Brianna rolled her eyes at Madison, ignoring the irritation and backing up from Michael.

She takes herself to the floor, a sense of grounding before she begins to find a sense of fire. Unfortunately, this had always been the type she hadn’t flourished in. It felt too wild, too chaotic. Which seemed silly since her chosen speciality of storms was the exact same, yet she had control over it. So why did some silly little flames seem to cause her to miss the mark most times?

Taking in the crisp night air, as the barn was not properly insulated and Behold had taken a quick five minutes to smoke, leaving the door open when he went, she let her eyes close.

She thought of a small flame, so small and fragile but still a flame.

Peeking her eyes open, nothing met her. She tried to ignore the pang of failure, and what she was sure would be shame, egged on by the look on Ariel's face at the difficulty she had with this current wonder.

Brianna took a deep breath, digging her mind into the room around her, searching for a semblance of anything, something she could use to spur on even a semblance of ash or fire, so that her try would prove even a bit fruitful.

She pushed into her powers, her hands tensing and untensing in flickers, peeking a glance at Michael, whose face was blank, his eyes a sea of blue, not judgement but curious, to see if she would find it, would find the fire that she needed.

Eyes squeezed shut to anchor back down, and she thought back to the incident years earlier, which had led her to all of this.

Fire. Just pull it to you, Brianna. It shouldn’t be that hard. Madison can summon it with barely a thought. As can Cordelia, all the elements at her beck and call, noon or dawn.

A shriek rang out from outside. Behold ran back in, annoyance clear as he held his cigarette which had fired up in what would’ve been an unusual way if they weren’t all witches or warlocks.

“I think this is your doing.” Behold held the lit cigarette towards her, raised eyebrows. “Mind putting it out now, sweetheart?”

Brianna closed her mouth, which had fallen open when her eyes had landed on the flames upon the cylindrical paper, and she extinguished it in the next moment. “Sorry!”

She chanced another look at her opponent, and was pleased to see an excited expression now, his hands in a brief clap (only silenced by the look Ariel sent his way).

“Fine.” Ariel grumbled

Cordelia held her hand out to Brianna, a proud smile. She lifted her up into a side embrace, the comforting scent of her surrounding the brunette.

Michael took no time to summon a candle into Ariel’s hands, lighting the wick. He sliced his hand, taking the candle in the other and let the blood drip down onto the blaze of orange. When blood hit fire, a spurt of ash and smoke billowed up, the flame higher after this process.

Brianna tried to ignore the shocked gasp of the woman beside her, instead allowing a smile to form at the sheer swiftness of Michael’s ability.

“Next test, now”. Myrtle lays her hands above the ground, two small creatures summoned out of thin air, a tiny mouse and a frail-looking spider, both lifeless and still.

Michael looks to Brianna, a questioning look following. She gestures to the floor, letting him take the first step.

He nods to her, black boots clicking on the ground as he stops before the small mouse, collecting it in one hand and holding it gently in his palm. With a few muttered words, and a focus so clear, the mouse’s tiny body twitches, its heart begins to beat again and a squeak rings out in the silent room.

Brianna follows his footsteps, and crouches down to the other side of him.

She lets her eyes narrow down on the eight legs, the hairs upon its body, the pincers, and takes a breath, mouth open to blow the life into it. It twitches for a second but does not move anymore than that.

“Hm.” Pennypacker mumbled, as grinned at Ariel.

“Life, my sweet one.” Cordelia called out. “Connect to it. You have so much, and as do your sisters around you. Find and wield it, instill it into the creature.”

Another breath, floating towards the spider, twitching again and again, and its legs now stable and alive, all its energy returning to it, and it darted forwards into her hands, and she held it up, triumphant.

Michael held his hand near hers, both admiring the creatures they had brought back to life. His mouse squeaked again which made the spider crawl back in Brianna’s palm, pincers at the ready, making both holders let out a laugh, holding onto the moment before they were right back to the challenge ready for them.

______________________________________

“And so, we arrive at the final test. Descensum.” Cordelia announced, all witches and warlocks back into the fiery main room of the Hawthorne academy

“But today, I’m not asking you to perform this wonder. Today, I am asking you to conquer it.”

Brianna’s heart sank at those words. She hadn’t actually even tried this wonder as the others deemed it too dangerous to do so beforehand. And she didn’t know if she could do more than to perform it. She shared a worried look with Zoe, their hands finding each others as they stood opposite from the warlocks.

“I’d like you to retrieve my dear friend, Misty Day, who lost her own battle with this very task.”.

“Cordelia, I don’t think-” Brianna began, but was cut off by Behold.

“That’s impossible. Those who don’t return from Descensum are gone forever. Property of the underworld.”

Pennypacker added his own words but Brianna flickered her vision to Michael, whose expression didn’t falter at any of the words spoken. He was ready, for whatever they would ask of him. But Brianna wasn’t.

His eyes found hers after feeling her gaze, and he held them, a strange feeling rising in her stomach.

She stared back, and they only stopped when Zoe nudged Brianna, the two now aware of the fact that both Cordelia and Ariel had retreated to another room to discuss the plan, or more likely, to bicker at one another, a mountain of rivalry between them.

Brianna smiled shyly at the warlock across before shifting to the left, to stand with Madison and Zoe until the others returned.

Madison tapped her on the shoulder, with the ghost of what could’ve been a supportive smile. “You know it’s not all bad. The underworld and that.”

Brianna chuckled easily, tilting her head. “Oh, really? Should I look forward to retail, maybe I needed to brush up on my towel folding skills. But, thanks for the vote of confidence, Montgomery.”

Madison nodded. “My pleasure, Harton.”

“Looks like Michael said yes.” Zoe cut in, pointing towards the three now headed back to the room they were in.

Cordelia took her place next to Brianna. She slipped her hand into hers, and held it tightly. “Be brave, Brianna. The coven believes in you.”

And, Brianna thought she was about to throw up right there on the spot. There was no way she was coming back. And she could see the outlines of that result even on her coven’s face.

She was fucking doomed. And more than likely, would now spend eternity in pain, pestered by something or someone and then alone. No more peaceful days at the academy, no more trips to the local ice cream parlour, no more Mallory.

Her head turned up. And no more Michael.

He’d make it back, impress them all with succeeding and lead the coven thereon.

Brianna made to sit on the floor, quickly being grabbed up by Zoe, who held her defiantly. “You will make it through. Just think of me, think of Mallory, and of the coven. You’ll come back, I know it.”
The last words were uttered with a desperation, like Zoe needed to believe them, cling to them like it would make them true, just speaking it aloud.

Brianna laid down on the floor, brunette hair fanning around her, her head opposite Michael’s black boots, and her own opposite his head. She kept her eyes on Zoe, not wanting to look at anyone else.

“Deduce me in tenebris, vita as extremum, ut salutaret inferi. Deduce me in tenebris, vita as extremum, ut salutaret infer…

Two voices joined as one, both eyes closing and focusing on the spell, and the floor beneath them, letting it envelope their heavy bodies.

“Descensum”.

Brianna saw the warm light behind her eyelids fade away, as her body drifted downwards, ashy mist forming and she felt her lungs filling with smoke, catapulting her elsewhere.

Fire. That was all she saw. Fire around her, surrounding her like a predator would their prey, spitting out and catching on the edge of her clothes. An occasional one would fly to the parts of her skin that were not protected by any layer of clothing.

Brianna’s breathing picked up. She inhaled the smoke, lungs fighting to find any chance to find fresh air and she choked on each breath her body tried to take.

Weak.

Arrogant

Freak

Voices around the fire spat at her, venom in their tongues, whipping at her mind, eliciting the fire to climb higher and bolder, closing in on her now.

Weak.

Arrogant

Freak

The fire encroached on her shoes, burning away at the leather, hellfire too strong for any protective wear.

You’ll never be what they want you to be.

You are pathetic

You’ll always be the sad, cursed witch everybody already thinks you are, Brianna.

Her toes began to burn, and the hair on her whole body was beginning to shed and turn to dust.

Brianna, brianna, brianna.

You can’t fight the fire, can you?

Melt away, little witch.

Fabric crackled and popped, searing away into ash as it finally met her skin.

Pain, pain and pain. An agony of it as it melted her flesh.

Brianna screamed out, her high shrieks and gasps echoing in the room, making her witness to her own demise.

Pain. Agony. Loss.

Her legs gave out beneath her, her whole body collapsing onto the ground, into the fire, welcoming her like an old foe, bringing at anything she was and could've been.

“Stop.” A solid voice called out, commanding and confident.

The fire pulled back from her, spreading out to allow a path for the person whom the voice belonged to.

Michael.

He strode to her, kneeling down, hands above to collect her essence and each body part, drawing it all together and completing the puzzle that Brianna had become.

He chanted a few words that she couldn't work out, and her clothes knitted themselves back together and onto her now solid, unburnt body.

“Wha-” Her eyes widened, focused on him not, the threat of the fire dissipating. “What did you-?”

Brianna still couldn't fully get any words out, her throat still burned by the flames and taking longer to heal than anything else.

Michael shrugged, with a content sigh. “I helped you.”

She nodded, feeling her legs and willing the shakiness of them to go away. “I know. But I-”

“You're safe now, the fire can’t get you.” Michael flickered to the flames. “And they won’t ever again, I promise.”

He held out his hand, nodding for her to connect hers with his, to get them out of her hell, and into the hallway.

Michael let her lean on him as they walked to the hallway, the smell of mildew and rotting sulphur filled the air, and down a few paces, he placed his hands on her head. “I’ll see you in a moment.”

Brianna couldn’t answer, thrown back into her physical body, gasping for air and choking on the freshness of it, crisp and clean, not ashy or sulfurous, just life-like and filled with hope.

“Brianna.” Zoe screamed, skidding down to the floor, to hold her fellow witch’s head, and ground her back to the realm they were back in. “You did it!”

Brianna, making direct eye contact with Ariel now, shook her head. “No, I didn’t. Michael.” She looked around, no sign of him yet. “Michael brought me back.”

Cordelia’s hand flung to steady herself against a nearby armchair, avoiding the two witches as they stood from the floor, one leaning against the other.

“Well, where the hell is he?” Madison chirped, staring at the spot where Michael had left from. “Because from our point of vie-”

A shuddering gasp broke through the door, golden curls bouncing and Michael’s body raised abruptly upwards.

“Oh.” Madison crossed her arms but she searched around him, and came to the conclusion. “Well, that’s that. They both came back, C’est la vie.”

Brianna was on the ground in seconds, holding Michael’s shoulder, feeling the warmth radiating from him, checking for any injuries or anything different.

“This was not a fair test.”

Cordelia ignored Ariel, concentrating on the warlock in the middle. “What happened? Where’s Misty?”

Brianna met Michael’s eyes, which connected with hers for a second before unfocusing, his hand unfolding to the side.

“Isn’t it obvious, dear? She’s right where she’s been for the last…”

Smoke, similar to the stuff they had seen as they drifted downwards appeared in the side next to Michael, and she shifted to the back of him, not wanting to be in the way of whatever it was.

Misty.

That’s what it was.

Wavy blonde hair, peaceful expression and vintage, flowy clothes.

Brianna’s coven, following Cordelia, surround the now alive Misty, hands clasping around her face in post grief and relieved surprise. “Misty…my dearest Misty.”

Brianna glanced from Misty to Michael, and felt him lean back, beginning to stand on his feet. She stood up slowly, bringing him up with her, brushing off the warlocks that tried to help.

“I’ve got him.” She stated, glaring at Ariel and she pulled Michael to the side, brushing off his suit, all her attention on him.

She could tell that all of the had taken the air out of him, and that his body would need some time to recover, albeit his magic as well.

Unexpectedly, he was the one who asked first. “Are you okay?”

Brianna gently hit him on his chest, eyes wide, amused. “You just brought both myself and another person from the depths of hell, and you are asking me if I’m okay?”

“Yeah.” Michael smiled dumbly. “I guess I am.”

Brianna shook her head, leaning it into her chest to hide her smile. “Yes. I’m okay. It was too much, but I’m okay now.”

Michael, one hand around her, just above her waist, held onto his breath. “I felt it. I felt your fear, I felt how much you were scared. I felt the pain. I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault, Michael.” She pushed her head up to meet his intense eyes, worry pooled in them. “I’m okay now.”

“Okay.”

Brianna twisted herself upright and to Michael's side, to watch the other side of the room’s event unfolding, Misty now held tightly by her coven, gratefulness and joy bounding from the witches.

“I know you’d never hurt me.”

Lanterns. Three figures. A dagger.

Michael shook the memory of the dream away, taking a step from Brianna’s side, and pulled at his suit to straighten it.

“No.” Michael found his way back to the ocean of Brianna’s eyes. “I wouldn’t hurt you.”

The two swept back into the scene, just as Cordelia stood back up to talk to Michael.

It happened just as quick, crimson liquid spilling from Cordelia’s nose, a root of fear and truth crashing down into the Supreme’s mind. “Oh, my god.”

Michael was powerful. Michael had saved both her and Misty. Michael had completed all the Seven Wonders.

She avoided him, to jump over to the others as they stopped Cordelia from stumbling backwards.

“What always happens when a new Supreme rises.” Ariel, somehow a speck of care in his eyes clarified.

Brianna felt a hand on her arm, stilling her from the other side halfway. “The old one fades away.”

Behold was next to her, his statement not full of venom but grace, truthful. He guided her to the side, allowing a path between the witches and warlocks.

“We demand what’s ours.”

Myrle yelled back at the academy leader. “You are a pathetic, pompous ass.”

“I did everything you asked. I descended into hell, and I did what you couldn’t. I brought her back.” Michael glanced at Brianna and back to Cordelia again. “I brought them both back. I passed the Seven Wonders. Unless you want to add another one.

With Misty and Myrtle, at her side holding her up, Cordelia faced Michael. “No. There can be no doubt. You are the next supreme.”

Briana muttered a quiet ‘fuck’ to herself, swiftly followed by Cordelia now fully collapsing on to the ground, thudding when her body met the floor.

She held her hand up to her mouth, the gasp escaping her, and she took steps towards the witches, glancing behind at Michael.

His eyes shone with confidence, with power, and she was scared of that, was proud of that. She didn’t really know how to feel or what she should do.

He was her friend and he meant something to her. But so did her coven.

“Fuck.” She uttered again, louder this time, earning a snort from Madison and a concerned look from Zoe, who she walked closer to, finding her hand again.

At least for now, she’d lean on something peaceful and sure. And then go back to the academy and tell Mallory everything. And find out the way forward. Mallory would surely know how to fix this.

She’d mutter a spell, or come up with a plan that would heal Cordelia and secure Michael a place in their coven where he didn’t have any of the pressure, and he could just learn magic in peace, and they’d all be friends.

After all, coven above all.

Chapter Text

The room was buzzing, the very edges shimmering, small stars climbing to the very top, dissipating in the next few seconds.

Or at least in Brianna’s champagne infused mind, it was.

The stress was off her shoulders, the hellish fire now far away, her friends around her, all relocated to the parlor room of Hawthorne academy, the fires readjusted to a comfortable temperature, courtesy of Cordelia.

Brianna felt like she was in a completely different universe that she was in an hour prior.

Steve Nicks, herself, was over at the piano, apparently a close friend of the coven, serenading the room (mostly Misty) and uplifting the spirits of all inside. Champagne had been brought up from the kitchens, divided up amongst the celebratory group.

“Care for another, darling?”

Culnis appeared beside her, a champagne bottle clasped in his hand, gesturing towards her currently empty glass. “ If you get drunk enough, maybe Ariel’s scowl will turn into a smile.”

A laugh escaped from Brianna, drawing attention from the others around who weren’t fixated on the performance.

“Ah, but will it stop the weird looks from everyone else?”

Culnis looked up, seeing the said look from Cordelia, who had quickly taken a break from staring wistfully at Misty.

“Uncertain.” Culnis placed the bottle on the table in front of them, and leaned back on the lounge. “But I think quite a few are surprised that you are alive.”

Brianna scrunched her face up. “Rude. I was perfectly capable. Those flames and I were just having a little discussion.”

Despite her casual approach outwardly, Brianna shivered at the memory of the searing pain, the prick of orange heat melting her flesh, swiftly and relentlessly.

“I, for one, am glad that you are alive. And safe.”

“Thank you, Culnis.” Brianna turned her head to his. “I’d leave all my good clothes for you in my will.”

Culnis brought his hand to his heart, closing his eyes in amused gratitude.

“Harton!”

Brianna raised her view to behind Culnis when a specific blonde whisper-yelled, a scowl resting on her face.

“Can you tell your boyfriend to stop staring at you for at least a minute? I can feel his gaze passing by and I don’t like it.”

Madison rolled her shoulders back, shooting a look up to the balcony that overlooked the room, intense blue eyes meeting the three of them as Michael came into their vision.

Brianna smiled up at him, shaking her head at Madison. “He’s not my boyfriend, Montgomery. I think he’s just checking that I’m not burnt to ashes, he had to see it, you know. It didn't feel pretty, so I’m sure as hell that it didn’t look pretty.”

“Well, whatever, just tell him to knock the intensity off.” Madison flicked her eyes to Brianna, with a reluctant sigh. “You did well with some of the Seven Wonders. Not as well as me, but decent, so good job.”

Culnis’s eyebrows rose just as the blonde turned around, her attention drawn by another's gaze, Cordelia’s. He nudged Brianna, with a grin.

“High praise, huh.”

Brianna agreed with a hum. She lifted her gaze back up to Michael, her breath faltering for a few seconds when he was already there with her.

She tilted her head, a dopey smile surfacing, closing one eye as she looked.

He was intense. A storm of icy blue eyes that held a security inside, yet she knew there was a naivety to him at times.

There was a more human side to him, but many people expected an otherworldly being to fill his whole being. For him to know. For him to act a certain way. For him to fix everything they ever needed. He was both and neither.

Brianna switched the eye that was closed, and widened her smile. His intense expression rippled, a twitch of a smile mirroring back to her, and his hands shifted on the railing.

She flicked from him to the level they were on, silently wondering if he was going to join them down here. After all, it was a celebration of Misty back again, and he was the champion who achieved that.

Michael shook his head, a shade of an apology in it, eliciting a sigh from Brianna who decided to not hide in the shadows, and she stood, finding Zoe across the room.

“May I have this dance, Miss Benson?”

Zoe furrowed her brows softly, amusement and concern flickering in her eyes.

“I think they enchanted the champagne.”

Brianna chuckled at her comment, but shook her head and placed her hand within Zoe’s. “No, it was normal champagne. I am just happy to be alive. Now take my hand, and spin around the room with me. I’m sure Misty would appreciate the liveliness.”

Brianna glanced behind at the male tutors of Hawthorne. “And show them that the witches cannot be stamped out, and we can actually have fun, even if stuffed into this place.”

Zoe narrowed her eyes in hesitation, but took her hand and let herself be spun closer to the piano, gaining the attention of the curly blonde witch, who nodded excitedly at them.

“That’s more like it.” She grabbed onto Brianna’s other hand, and spun herself around. “Alive, we are. And breathin’.”

Misty pulled the two, circling the piano where Stevie sat, occasionally looking back to Cordelia whose expression was happier than it had been

Brianna could almost reach out and poke the intangible connection between the two, like a buzzing line of fuzzy pink and purple for only those two.

The dancing went on and on, with Culnis, Queenie and Behold eventually joining him, for the sake of celebration and despite the heaviness of what any of this would mean for the future of either covens.

Brianna even though she saw a glimpse of Michael gazing down at her with a pleasant expression before he stepped away into the shadows.

As the next song ended, Misty gently swung Brianna over to Cordelia, with a shy smile lingering on her lips.

A solid frame held her shoulder, turning her to face the right way, gaining her attention.

Brianna hummed at her guardian, with an unguarded smile. “I wish we could stay in this night forever.”

Cordelia’s mouth twitched, almost a returned smile but the peace of the night had only grazed the Supreme’s orbit, the gloom of the coven’s future lingering heavy, and ominous.

She steadied Brianna, giving her hand a squeeze. “We can for the moment. But we need to talk in the morning.”

“About Michael?” Brianna froze, the shimmering feeling from the boozy bubbles leeching from her skin. She flicked a look upwards where he had stood earlier in the night.

Cordelia followed her gaze with a tight frown. “About Langdon, yes. He’s more powerful than I gave notice to. And that could mean…”

Brianna crossed her arms, a knot of worry surfacing in her stomach. “Not great things. Or so everyone says or thinks.”

The knot wasn’t only worry. She was also annoyed. Everyone expected the worst of him, because he was different. Because there was something about him that didn’t fit within their standards.

But he was the only one who had even begun to draw the dark magic out of her, and eased it slowly and had taken every opportunity to look out for her, and to listen to her, ramble about the stars, list off the snacks she liked and surprisingly offered his own thoughts back.
Cordelia let go of Brianna, gesturing to the doorway close to them. “You’ll need to rest up.”

Before Brianna could make it to the door, Cordelia’s voice met her again.

“I am so grateful you are here, my sweet Brianna. I’m sorry that you had to go through this. I never wanted this for you, I hope you know that.”

The tingly smile returned, bubbles resting low in her body, a sheer joy for those Brianna loves, and she ran back to her Supreme, wrapping her arms around her. “I know it, Cordelia. I know that you value each and every one of your witches. Nobody doubts that.”

“That I do.” Cordelia sighed, resting her head atop of Brianna’s, the weight and fate of the world on her shoulders. She had pulled Madison aside to talk about visiting the house that was mentioned to her by one of her connections.

The plan was in place for her and Behold to investigate it and find out more about Michael, and how he could fit within the future of the coven.

Brianna didn’t have to know for now. But she would have to tell her more of what she knew about Michael, regardless of their friendship.

“Are you well?” The memory of Cordelia fainting resurfaces, the obvious replacement of magic transforming itself to power another witch. “I know that the waning process has started.”

“I am fine.” Cordelia tapped Brianna on the back, with an essence of finality. “Rest now. I’ll see you in the morning.

Brianna slipped out of the room, followed by Culnis who would usually accompany her back to her rooms, and was also looking for an excuse to not twirl around the room for the hundredth time with Misty.

And they walked silently to the rooms, the sparkle of the night left in the room.

___________________

The sun settled gently on the old walls of Miss Robicheaux’s academy

Lavender scented air filled the room, an offering of peace within the fraught discussion.

Myrtle, sat behind her desk, a pipe in her hand, some green misty smoke swirling upwards, a plant to ease the pain of her resurrection, or so she said.

“Darling, it’s essence sourcing, not finding a wand in a graveyard.”

Cordelia shot Myrtle a warning look, stepping forward, her shoulders tense yet her arms gentle at the side of her own body.

“We don’t ask this lightly. We’ve tried to think of other ideas that we can sense his intentions. This is the purest form we could reach.”

Brianna scoffed. “But it endangers not only me, but his privacy. He’s not…he’s not some puppet that we can pull strings on. He’s a human, as we all are. Why don’t we just speak to him? Surely, he can come here and learn from the coven.”

Myrtle puffed again, setting the wood utensil down. “It’s not that simple. He is led by too many other people. Our opinions or guidance will just mesh in with the others, forming more chaos than what is already within him.”

“We ask because we believe in you.” Cordelia let her face soften. “We know he will feel safer if it is you who performs this, he won’t notice if you are there as he won’t see it as a differing energy.”

Brianna tapped on the desk in front of her.

Essence sourcing. An old form of magic to delve into someone subconscious, and to find out their intentions settled within them. Very few knew of it deeply. Even fewer even tried or entertained the idea of it.

She knew she was the best to do it, as most wrote of it in experiments said that familiar energy felt less intrusive and the gliding intrusion was smoother, lessening the implications of who was performing it.

Mallory would be too different, too powerful and he would be immediately aware of someone interrupting his own thoughts.

But she’d have to revisit something she knew well.

Pain. Dark Magic. And the unknown of how it would affect her.

All the noted pages on it had described it in some detail, a focus on the searing pain and the leftover ache, especially if the magic wasn’t completely stable. And between hers and Michael, she’d take a guess that neither would exactly fit that criteria.

Brianna felt her eyes begin to well up, and the phantom ache of pain rose in her body. “You do know what this means for me?”

Myrtle averted her eyes, finding a note on her desk more interesting as Cordelia walked to Brianna’s front, lifting her chin. “We will be there every step of the way. Our coven’s future hangs in the balance.”

A puff of green smoke filtered out the window. “Will you condemn other witches all because you have a fondness for this boy?”

Cordelia turned sharply, a glare following. “Myrtle!”

Brianna felt her own arms come up around her body, hugging herself, to find any sense of comfort in this minute.

“I don’t want bad things for the coven.” Brianna tried to vanish the tears threatening to fall. “But I won’t be ashamed for finding a friend who needed my help. And who helped me.”

Cordelia didn't respond. The last words an unsaid jab at every attempt to try to help with Brianna’s magic. All the many hours in her own office, trying out different ideas and reassuring Brianna that they would find a way to heal her.

Her eyes widened, a storm of hurt behind them. But she wouldn’t let it out. She wouldn’t let the threat of the warlock’s power make her falter in any sense.

“Brianna.” Cordelia stood tall, pursing her lips as she held her head high. “You will do this for your coven. And for Michael, if you so wish to view it that way.”

Brianna, hands in fists at her side, let out a stiff nod. She knew she had poked at an unhealed wound. A wound that Cordelia pitied and felt shame for. It wasn’t fair but it was true.
As beseeching blue eyes stared her down, she let the picture of a different pair, curious and intense swim into vision.

“For both.” Brianna stated.

She willed her hands to stop trembling, as Myrtle stepped out from her desk, wandering over to the window.

“We’ll start tonight.” Myrtle tilted her head. “Midnight will do.”

___________________

“Breathe in, breathe out.”

Brianna, closed eyes and head amongst the oak floors, did as guided, inhaling through her nose softly, letting it out with a reasonably normal exhale.

Zoe was above her, kneeling next to her shoulder while holding a grimoire brimming with ancient texts, various apothecary recipes and lists of ingredients, and their purposes.

She was asked specifically by Brianna as she brought a calm energy to everything she did. Mallory would’ve been right beside her if it hadn't been for Myrtle needing to talk her through her own future plans.

Surrounding the two of them were Queenie, Cordelia and Madison, stuck to each side of the room, protective wards around themselves.

“She knows how to breathe.” Madison drawled, poking at her magic bubble, vibrating down once touched.

Zoe looked up from the book to shoot a quick glare at the blonde, turning back and shaking off the distraction. She placed her hand on the page, tuning into the witch in front of her.

“Feel the energy of the room we are in, touch the edges and let it roll over you.”

Brianna felt her hands dipping against the floor, her back melting below and energetically reached around the space.

A peaceful silent energy met her senses, the core of the academy, pulsing pockets of magic bouncing from all rooms, signalling all the witches inside the estate. She hummed as her body disconnected from the current room, and a tingling rose up her spine.

“Now that you’ve found the energy around, let it soften.” Zoe’s fingers moved down the page, the rustling of the old text the only sound to be heard. “And move yourself, energetically, across to the needed location. Once there, become familiar with the new location, the new energy.”

Brianna, feeling like a puddle melted into sand, her mind spinning as it searched for the particular coordinates.

“For the selected person, think of their facial features…”

Blue eyes, close to the ocean, a pool of questions and answers, a sharp tug to a place of power and curiosity.

Blonde hair, a shade near the sunset, lit up like a pale fire in the sun, moving like the tendrils of a waterfall.

Sharp cheekbones. A blossoming smile, something reserved for just her. Careful hands, soft and strong, steadying her when she was interrupted by her magic issues

“And drift into that. Let it wash over you, let the idea of them intertwined with the idea of your own self, just outside.”

Her mind steadied, memories and features at the forefront. Her whole body had numbed at this point, existing in the ether. She felt a flickering on the outside of her own energy.

“What do you feel?”

Brianna responded slowly. “Something. Someone else. Just across. It’s light, not heavy.”

Zoe nodded, clutching the book tighter, and continued down the page.

“Lean in more. Connect to it.”
A sharp sting began in her head, a mentioned issue of the spell, one that would grow as her essence was somewhere than it should be..

The something else drifted close, offering a space next to it for Brianna to land. She let herself move forward, and the rolling essence of another slammed into her like a hurricane.

Warmth, spinning hotter and hotter, tinged with the scent of cinnamon, vetiver and the quickest breeze of sulfur, invading her sense of smell.

Her thoughts jutted against another's. Nettling soreness rumbled through her.

“Now delve deeper into them. What are they doing?”

Brianna’s own thoughts brushed closer, opening the fiery door to peek inside. A silent heat met her.

“Sleeping.”

“Good, okay.” Zoe’s voice grew in pitch, a confident energy radiating. “Can you pick up on any previous thoughts, lingering, or anything just atop of their subconscious?

Brianna glided around, keeping from the feel of campfire in the middle, the walls cushioning her nerves. Each movement brought a new wave of pain, like pins that were constantly being jabbed into each cell. The responses were slowed, teased with drowsiness and more of an echo from the past.

Ariel being annoying. Appreciating the book he read earlier. Experimenting with magic. The taste of the paprika-seasoned potatoes at dinner. A few glimpses of herself, shaded brighter than she would’ve thought was possible.

And then.

A dark figure, risky intentions that Michael seems to trust, a loving connection.

“Someone he loves, someone who guides him, and wants him to succeed.”

Sparks from the central heat flicked onto her, leaving an ash that spoke in hushed tones. It spoke of dark rituals delivered to his door, chanting followers who he deemed a little too desperate, a coldness when someone he cared for was disrespected, urged on by a blistering zap beneath.

“He’s involved in some things. Not good. It’s not exactly him that is leading. His guardian, she’s stronger in mind, and she enables his connection to something else, something darker, I can’t figure out that part.”

Zoe was silent for a moment, her gaze watching Cordelia, whose eyes were locked on Brianna's still body, waiting to see if she would interfere or offer the way forward.

“Does he feel…odd?”

An immediate response.

“Yes. He’s fueled by a lot around him. It’s both him and the other aspects. I don’t think he is completely aware, but then at the same time he is.”

Brianna feels herself shuffle in his mind. “There are some second thoughts to his first ones. They express doubt and uncertainty. About what he feels that the world wants from him.”

She slides closer to the center, testing her edges against the fire. “He’s stronger than we think. But it’s not all bad. It’s more chaos. A mix of certainty and uncertainty.”

Zoe moved to her side, the book placed down. “Can you find out what his next plan, or Ariel’s plan is?”

“It hurts but yes, I…”

Brianna’s voice breaks off at once, a shiver rushing down Zoe's spine as she senses a disturbance. “Brianna. What’s wrong?”

Brianna didn’t hear her as she felt the middle fire swarm all her senses and she barricaded herself to protect from the harm. But it didn't come. The fire was all around, bright and stormy, yet it offered a sanctuary rather than battle.

She reached out, expecting a burn, instead it was a touch sending her back down, with concern.

The silent heat had roared up, now pulsing and aware.

Michael had woken up, and he knew something was in his head, searching and walking around in his inner world.

Brianna could feel the tilt of his head, not mad but aware. Then she heard him.

“I don’t appreciate the intrusion, especially when I’m resting.”

Sleep-laced and deep, his voice echoed through her mind.

“It’s not pleasant, I’m sorry. I would never have done this if it wasn’t regarded as something we needed.”

Her response felt lighter than his, less sure and fading as she wanted to retreat to her body.

“I didn’t say it wasn’t pleasant. I don’t mind it's you, I care for the purpose. I’m assuming Cordelia put you up to this.”

Brianna breathed out. “It’s the coven. I have to do what’s best for them.”

There was a few seconds before his next reply.

“I understand.”

Brianna reached out again, trying to feel for him, to offer a small comfort or show of friendship. Her mind ricochet and the string sharpened to a pinpoint, piercing her mind in what felt like two sides. Her words were stolen by the sheer pain, falling and dissipating into the fire.

The walls cinched in protectively, a buzz of cold softness coasting inside the space.

“It’s hurting you.”

She managed a half-hearted energetic nod, letting his voice wrap around her like a safety blanket.

Michael went bit by bit, unfolding each sensation of pain caused by the spell, rippling a cool soothing enchantment, lifting the string, the remnants bursting off into the fire. This he would focus on, as the pain was constant, as long as the spell was in action.

“You shouldn’t do this.”

“I don’t have a lot of choice. They need to know you, Michael.”

“I don’t want them to know me. I don’t trust them.”

The fire flared up, away from Brianna but still a strong gust of feeling, ash billowing and landing away from both.

“But you trust me.”

Pain lifting, the flames dimming down, coolness gliding down her essence.

“Yes.”

“Then I’ll try to not interfere too much. Tell me what you think will be worthy to them, but not too close for you. I’d never want to hurt you, Michael.”

“I’ll agree. But only if you let me help you when each time comes. I don’t like when you are hurt. It makes me feel uncomfortable. It’s not right. And don’t tell them I know you are here, they won’t think that’s good.”

Brianna smiled, mirroring the enchantment back to him, in hopes of reaching a part of him. “I won’t. And you can…help me. It feels nice.”

Brianna’s head spilt again, Michael drifting away, and the cacophony of physical sounds screeching back into her world.

“I’ll see you next time, Harton.

Chattering and worried mumbling reached her ears as she resurfaced to her human body, jolting up with a heaving deep breath, air hitting her lungs like shards of glass.

“BRIANNA!” Zoe screeched, throwing herself around the girl, shaking hands grabbing at her shoulders. “I thought we might’ve lost you. You didn’t reply. And you didn’t respond when I touched you on your shoulders.”

The way back for the spell was meant to be a shoulder touch but Michael’s essence had rung too strong, blocking out their voices or the physical ability to pull her back.
“How am I back here then?”

Zoe glanced up, shrugging, a knowing smile accompanying . “How else?”

Brianna followed her direction, her heart soaring when she spotted the culprit.

Mallory was there, hands held in place from the incarnation she had finished, a grin breaking out on her face when their eyes met.

“You’re okay, Brianna. I got you back.”

Brianna stood up, her legs wobbling, and her head turning into a sludgy mess, crossing the room and crashing into her blonde friend, a florally medicinal scent inviting her in.

“I didn’t realise I was stuck there.”

“You didn’t feel in distress.” Mallory nodded, holding her back, hands light at her elbows. “But everyone else was loud and seemed to need me to help.”

Brianna shifted her eyes from Mallory to Cordelia, then back again.

“Thank you, Mal.”

Mallory met her eyes earnestly, noting the layer just beneath. She nodded back, giving some space between them so the others could fuss over her, all but Madison, who had left the room just before their embrace, her part in the night concluded.

She found her way back to Brianna once the others had dispersed from the room, and bumped her shoulder against the other witches. “He protected you, didn’t he?”

Brianna’s expression turned sheepish, a light dusting of pink across her cheeks. Her breath came out deep but meaningful. “Yeah, he did. You won’t tell the others?”

“Of course not.” Mallory found her hand and grasped it. “We’re best friends. And I do value that closer than the coven. You never judged me or treated me differently because of what I could do.”

Brianna tightened her hand. “How did you know?”

“About Michael?” Mallory let go of her hand, leading them to the door archway. “I could hear you two, just before I pulled you out.”

“How?”

The blonde witch shrugged, a shy smile. “Just could. I guess that means I’ll have to take things a little more seriously now.”

“You are extraordinary, Mallory.” Brianna met her in the hallway. “But yes, you are my best friend, and I’ll stand by you, you know?”

Mallory quirked an eyebrow, their path to their rooms a natural movement, in rhythm with Brianna. “I would hope so. I don’t just share my chocolate stash with just anyone else.”

“Oh, I am honored.” Brianna bowed low, her skirt shifting below her. “I swear allegiance to Mallory, prodigy of Miss Robichaux’s and chocolate extraordinaire.”

Mallory let out a hum, letting the two titles sit behind her. “Well deserved. I’ll accept offerings in the form of chocolate dipped pretzels.”

Brianna lifted to her height, a laugh bubbling out as charmed the lights of their dormitory to appear like fairy lights, the twinkling reflecting in her eyes. A lovely autumnal glow filled the room, and both girls fell back into their respective beds.