Chapter Text
Willow was determined to struggle through the abomination track as one resigned to their fate is determined to bear it with a grin and a head held high. Besides, it's not the worst thing in the world. She could be completely magic-less, like how her dads feared when her magic failed to show, and they tried their best not to show how worried they were. She would much rather not think about that.
Get yourself together, Willow, she told herself. Wallowing won't get you anywhere.
She just had to focus, that's all.
She must have reread this passage of abomination magic theory and practice textbook for like a hundredth time. The lines were practically burned into her brain by this point. She understood every single little aspect of it. Or at least she hoped that she did. So why couldn't she make one competent, solid abomination that doesn't fall apart? At this point, she would be happy with a shambling, shapeless mass, as long as it was capable of completing one single task. Then maybe she would have a chance to pass the year.
Willow sighed and leaned back on her chair. She felt a buzzing behind her eyes, and her abomination goo wasn't even bubbling in the cauldron beside her. Staring at the ceiling would have been more productive. So she did that for five blissful moments.
She looked to the window. It's starting to get dark outside.
There was no salvaging it. No matter how ambitious she tried to be.
She was going to fail this test.
There was a potted orange eye stalk plant on the windowsill. She got it as a birthday gift from a distant family member, and she wasn't proud to admit it, but she had neglected the poor thing.
Willow gave the plant a pitting look.
She vowed to only focus on abomination magic. After all, it was the smart thing to do. There would be more career opportunities, and after so long, it would be foolish to consider changing tracks and starting from scratch. And…
The plant looked so thin and crooked. Its leaves, which were supposed to be lush and round, were wavy and half curled in on themselves. The petals were closed tightly around the eyeballs in the middle. It was a sorry sight.
Surely nobody would object if she just gave it a little boost.
Who would notice anyway?
Willow lifted a finger and drew a steady spell circle. Magical glow enveloped the plant, and it started to grow. Its leaves unfurled and opened, splayed over the edge of the pot. Its stem straightened and stretched up, and its petals opened, regaining their vibrant orange color. In the middle of the flowers, curious eyeballs woke up and scanned their surroundings.
This was… refreshing. Like a glass of cold water in a heat wave. Or like a glove that fits just right. A far cry from the fight she had to put up when concentrating on abomination magic. Willow could feel the magic humming in her veins, rushing out from her bile sac and straight into her fingertips. Then it shot straight into the plant, connecting them as if it were a string or a vein.
It felt like second nature.
Then the pot abruptly burst, sending shards flying and soil tumbling down to the floor. The plant remained on the windowsill, however, as it grew large enough to be weighed down by its abundant roots.
Willow jumped in surprise. She drew her hand back, balled into a fist, as if she was burned.
With the supply cut off, the plant stopped growing. Its impressive leaves, now showing red stripes running from stem to tips - marking it as a mature plant - sprawled out. Its eyes blinked lazily out the window, completely uncaring about growing almost four times its previous size.
All Willow could do was stare at the mess that was left behind.