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Witches that broke free from slavery had to stay in rehabilitation wards to become “functioning members of society”, as they called it. It didn't make sense to Cassandra. These people were not like humans, they were different, they were scary to her mostly because she had never talked to one of them before, but didn't they deserve their freedom already?
Maybe it was not necessary to dress up when her father, Mr. Cage, was visiting one with her, but she always wanted to look her best. The perfume she put on had a flowery smell, not captivating but quite nice. Sophie made a comment on it when they got in his car.
“Do you always have to smell nice?” She said, taking her arm.
“Of course. No one in there should ever think I am not a proper lady.”
“Why do you care about what they think anyway?” They had heard their father's voice booming from the driver's seat in front of him. Their father hated witches. That was even partially the reason he took them with him. To show them how they really are, in his words. The other reason was introducing Cassandra to the psychiatrist's son. “The only people you should try to impress are the psychiatrist and his son.”
“Yes father, that's what I meant.” Partly the truth.
“Good girl,” he said, and they felt science for the rest of the road.
The walls of the dreadful place was a sickly yellow, the gates were forged to look like roses reaching above yet the windows were protected and forever closed with bars. What a gilded cage, she thought. It seemed like the place was perhaps a mansion or a fraternity home in the past, most likely a mansion.
“We’re here, girls.” Their father showed them the courtesy to open the door for them.
“Right," said Sophie, jumping down Cassandra followed her.
Their father was walking ahead of them, then Sophie, then Cassandra followed suit. He was explaining what to expect from the psychiatrist and his son and as always he was terribly biased.
“I've had many encounters with him before, he's quite the gentleman. I've asked him before, why deal with dirty pests like witches? He said rehabilitation was his passion. He got some strange obsession with those cursed fellas, I tell ya. He's a good man though.”
Cassandra loved her father but sometimes his ramblings were quite exhausting. Instead of listening she chose to wander her eyes around the garden. The garden had many security precautions like watch towers and alarms but the flowers were very neat and they smelled good. The soft colours of them put a smile on her face. She thought she saw something up somewhere, so she looked at the windows.
Surely enough in one of the windows a weirdly grayish boy around her age had stuck out his head. Pale skin and a pitch black head of hair to match it. His hair was reaching under his chin. Their eyes met for a few seconds and she paused on her tracks.
“Cassandra!” Her father called and she rushed to reach them. “Why are you stopping my dear?”
“I-I thought I saw something.” She stuttered, looking at the window again. The boy was gone.
“Careful sweetheart Cursedfolk are some tricky pests.”
Cursedfolk. The name bothered her as they walked into the building. almost immediately they were faced with a sanitary smell, rows of seats in front of them for visitors to sit on. Their father asked for the psychiatrist and they were directed to the clinic. Her father was a close friend of his and they were informed of his visit.
As they were waiting for his patient to leave the clinic, Cassandra got the chance of observing. The office was across from the witches's lounge where they could sit, read books and socialise. The door was closed but she could see the inside from its window. Out of the corner of her eye she saw the boy from the window. Out of curiosity, she turned to him and their eyes met again.
His eyes were magnetic. Although his pale skin and bruised nails implied that he was a witch, this outlandish appearance of his didn’t really put her off, surprisingly. It was somewhat intriguing. No man could deny the spark of fire nor intelligence behind his green eyes.
“Cass!” Sophia nudged her arm with her elbow. “What's up with you today?” Cassandra was startled, she jumped a little.
Sophie turned her head to see what she was looking at. “Ooh. That witch boy. What’s it about that boy that captivated you? Sure he’s handsome, but… Hmm… Mmh, too old for me.” Sophie commented.
“He’s a witch, Sophie.”
“So what? He looks like he’d make a good lover for you.” Cassandra nudged her ribs with her elbow. “Ouch!”
“Keep it quiet.” She said with a hushed voice. Sophie had no other option but to shut her mouth. Cassandra didn’t hate witches. She was, she supposed, just scared.
Just as she was about to turn to him again, they saw Mr. Schwartz’s patient come out of his office. Her father looked at the dark skinned witch with hatred and caution. She just looked like a girl, in her opinion. Her father proceeded to lead the girls in.
“Herbert!” Dr. Schwartz stood up, offering him his hand. He was a strange looking Amisdean man with ginger hair and round glasses.
“Dmitri!” Mr. Cage shook the hand that was offered. “You made us wait.”
“Well, I didn’t think you and your girls would arrive this early.” The Doctor's eyes landed on Cassandra. “Speaking of which, how have you been, Cassandra?”
“Better, doctor.” She forced a small smile on her face.
“Splendid!” He sat down. “Please please, take a seat. Vadim will be here at any minute girls, he has been looking forward to meeting you.”
The eagerness was not returned by Cassandra, she expected the worst from Vadim. The boys her father introduced to her usually had the emotional range of a brick.
Just as she expected, the conversation with Vadim at the garden was draining. He was as intellectually challenging as a singular french fry. Cassandra wanted to jump up the walls of the garden and run away. Sophie, next to her, didn’t seem to be amused either. It seemed like Vadim was absolutely not similar to his genius dad in terms of intelligence. He was, quite frankly, dense and shallow.
“I mean, you’ve got to see my dad’s notebooks, they’re so full of nonsense about brain. I think it’s useless. I mean, it’s all in your head, you get what I mean?”
God, please shut up. She forced a smile on her face as she tried to act interested.
“Yes, I get what you mean, but mental illnesses don’t work like that.” She heard Sophie snort and a genuine smile seeped into her lips.
“I don’t really care either way, you know…” He said, his eyes on one of the watchtowers. Cassandra doubted they would ever see him again, so for now she was just entertaining him. As Sophie was talking to him, basically subtly making fun of him but he didn’t notice of course, Cassandra was behind them, looking around the roses. This place was well taken care of.
She wandered maybe too far from them, she wandered somewhere the watchtowers don’t see and the alarm doesn’t reach, behind a rose bush. She was admiring the wallflowers when she heard a young man’s voice speak from behind her closely.
“Jasmine. Maybe rosemary?” He was talking to himself, quietly. She immediately turned to him, startled. He was really close, he sniffed the air. “No. Lavender.”
It was the exact boy she saw twice that day. He had his fingers against his chin, and he was… Trying to guess her perfume scent? And surprisingly, he was pretty accurate.
“D-Distance, please.” She took a few steps back from him, holding out her hands in a defensive motion before her. She didn’t expect a witch to be so close.
“Sorry, I got excited when I smelled something familiar. I think I made this perfume at the factory.” He had an outlandish accent, making it obvious that he was not from Kurton at all. His accent was northern, implying that maybe he was from the cooler parts like Amisdeamm or Sulburg. This particular boy had a Sulburgian accent. Many witches immigrated from the colder parts. Northern countries didn’t treat witches as nicely as southern and eastern ones.
“You worked in a perfume factory?”
“I did. We made expensive perfumes like these.” He didn’t seem to like talking about that, so she didn’t pry much longer.
“I see.” She was intrigued by his appearance. He looked human, yet his unique features special to witches reminded her that he was not quite. But there was something about him that she wanted to know more about. Maybe the mystery thrilled her. In any case, it was way more exciting than talking to Vadim about apple trees. “You’ve been looking at me all day long.”
“We don’t usually see visitors in our ward. We are mostly immigrants that had to save ourselves.”
Cassandra once again felt upset for mentioning that. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to bring up bad memories.”
He chuckled darkly. He seemed to not be saddened about it at all, and if he was he was really good at hiding it. “Oh come on, someone that ran away by themselves wouldn’t crumble with a bunch of bad memories.” His sharp canines revealed as he smirked. Must be another trait of witches.
“In any case, you’re welcome to come and see Dr. Schwartz. Everyone loves him. Witch or human.” He leaned on the wall and shrugged.
“Really? I was his patient too but we were not so close.”
“Yes. He wants to help us. All of us. He gave me textbooks to study, allowed me into his library…” He was looking down at the floor. It seemed like Dr. Schwartz had quite an impact on him. He seemed like an admirable man.
“I hope you’re able to leave the facility soon.” She met his eyes. He looked back at her with the same magnetic stare that kept her hooked to him. He turned to the rose bush next to them, and plucked out one of them, careful not to hurt his hand. He then took a few napkins and wrapped the branch with them. Cassandra understood what he was doing.
He offered her the rose. “You don’t look at me like the others do. You look at me like Dr. Schwartz does. Your eyes speak.” He held out the rose like that until the shy hand of Cassandra took it. Wrapped with a bunch of napkins, the thorns of the branch didn’t hurt at all. “Your eyes are devoid of hatred or malice.”
“Thank you.” She said with a blush on her cheeks, putting it against her nose to sniff before remembering that he is a patient. “Shouldn’t you be in your ward? “
“Shh.” He held a finger against his lips. He could have escaped. But he chose to stay in the ward. “Shouldn’t you be with that guy?”
“You mean Vadim?” She asked, tilting her head.
“Yes, him. Him and I don’t get along. Vadim gets jealous of me. He’s always jealous of me. And I am, of him.”
Cassandra was about to ask why that was so, before she realised exactly why. The witch boy was jealous of Vadim having a happy, free childhood while he worked as a slave. Vadim was jealous of the boy’s intelligence, his spark that drove his own dad to give him special help, while he was always cold with him. Cassandra now saw both of them differently. Her heart ached for the two boys, who each had their own reasons for not liking each other.
“Whatever, I think you should leave already, Cassandra.” He said, looking over the bushes to check his surroundings for anyone else.
She was just about to ask how he got her name when she realised he was observing them from the start. Soon enough, she heard Vadim shouting for her. She gasped slightly. “It’s Vadim.”
“Go then. Good luck out there.” He said, and she made a move to leave before she remembered that she didn’t get his name.
“You got a name, or shall I keep calling you the window witch forever?” She asked him before she had to rush to her sister and her accomplice.
“My name is Edgar.” He said, disappearing into the building.
☆
There was no way Cassandra wasn’t telling Sophie about this before sleeping. Both of them laid down on her bed, and Sophie was listening to everything.
“So he gave you the rose?” Sophie eyed the rose in front of her makeup mirror. “Oh, he’s a keeper.” To be fair, Cassandra expected her to be mad at her for leaving her alone with Vadim, but Sophie was too busy freaking out about their romance. Or whatever to call it. Calling it romance embarrassed Cassandra.
“I didn’t even ask him to be my lover, Sophie.”
“Still, isn’t it cute? A witch boy you met on coincidence, giving you a rose for treating him nicely.” She nudged her arm. “And not before he didn’t stare at you twice that day!”
“It’s fine, Sophie.”
“Isn’t it exciting? You’ll have a secret relationship.” Sophie turned to her, smiling.
Cassandea sighed. “I’ll probably never see him again Sophie, now can I please sleep?”
Sophie pouted. “Who knows?.“ She left to go to her own room, leaving Cassandra to think for the rest of the night.