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Coco was not really one of them, was she? She was not a witch. Not really. Or rather, she was a witch now, but she had not been before. She was from another world. Not a fully other world, of course, but one different enough that she might have as well grown up on another continent.
In the world in which Coco had grown up magic was a thing to be marveled at. A wonderful secret to be discovered and watched.
That was not the world in wich Agott had been born. In Agott’s world magic was the thing you had to master to be loved, to be respected. Magic had been made a secret from the non-witches – but for the witches it was what they were measured against. And the Arklaum family only had room for the best. So Agott had known that she would have to proof to her family that she was one of the best.
Her seals were perfect. She could draw them with her eyes closed. She knew how to construct a seal in so many different variations. She was a witch. She would be one of the best.
And yet, in recent weeks, she could not help but notice her. How she would be sitting at her desk.
Her hair was longer than Agott’s. So when she was focused, and some of those strands would fall out from behind her ears, they would hang over her eyes like a veil.
She would be sitting there, putting on the light spell way too late. She would sit there, drawing the same seals again and again. She would draw until her fingers were covered in calouses.
Just like a real witch.
Agott knew that at times she could be mean.
She would not worry about it too much. After all, nobody had ever worried when they had been mean to her. But at times she would remember the harsh words she had used towards Coco, when Qifrey had brought her here. And then she would feel this sensation in her chest. A kind of piercing feeling. And she would feel like she should say somehting.
But she didn’t.
At times she wondered, whether Coco even still remembered it. Because when the other girl looked at her, she would just smile, her eyes lighting up.
When she managed to do another spell, a more complex one, she would come to Agott to show her.
Even now – even after all the uglyness she had seen by now – Coco’s eyes would sparkle with enthusiasm. She loved magic. There was no doubt about it. Despite everything, Coco loved magic. She loved it in a way that Agott could not even imagine to love.
It felt like a childish love to her. After all, you did not love the water with which you washed, did you? You did not love the air you breathed, or the ground you walked on. It was just a part of life.
Magic was no different.
But then, Agott could not help but think, maybe Coco actually did love the air and the water and the ground. Because she had this love about her. Love for a lot of things.
Agott knew there was hurt, too. She had seen Coco cry. She had seen her cry more than once. And maybe it was to be expected. Coco’s mother was cursed. And no matter what the girl was hoping: without casting a seal on the body, who knew if her mother could be brought back?
Even if she could be. Agott was not sure if it would mean the happy end that Coco was clearly yearning for.
After all, Coco was not a witch. Not really. She was from another world. But she had taken the step. She had crossed the treshold. She was with them now. Learning magic. Casting seals. Learning under Qifrey.
So even if she found the solution on the Tower of Tomes, even if she was allowed to cast it on her mother… Her mother was not a witch. So what would Coco do? Would she actually go and be wither her mother again? Would she allow them to erase her memories of the magic to be with the family? A family who lover her. A family so different from the family of Agott’s.
Coco had said, she could not forget about magic, because she had to save her mother. But what after her mother was saved? Would she just go? Would she disappear from this world, as if she had never been a part of it?
Why did this thought, too, make Agott’s chest hurt as if someone had plunged a knife into it? Why did everything inside of her refuse to imagine a world in which Coco was no longer a part of this? In which she went back to her world?
It was silly.
And maybe it was cruel too.
Maybe it was cruel to wish that Coco would not return to that family – to that mother who loved her.
But some part of Agott thought that in the end, nobody should be too greedy for love. And Coco was loved here, too, was she not? Tetia clearly loved her as a dear friend. And Richeh, despite being less open about it was clearly the same. Qifrey and Olruggio both cared for them. And even the little Brushbuddy was so clearly enchanted with Coco. The little critter tended to sleep on her pillow in most nights.
Coco was loved. So, she might as well stay with them, no?
She was from another world. Obviously she was. Whatever that other world was – that world the non-witches inhabited – Coco was here now. She was sharing the atelier with Agott.
And maybe, just maybe, Agott just enjoyed to have company. The company of someone who looked at her magic and would see marvels to which Agott herself had gotten blind. Maybe Agott just wanted to have someone around who would see her and smile, even when Agott did nothing special. Maybe she just wanted someone to be there who could remind her that there was, well, magic to the magic they were drawing. Because if she was honest, Agott might have forgotten about it.
After all, you did not love the water, the air, or the ground. You rarely even loved the flame that warmed you, or the pillow that held your head at night. All those things became normal and were forgotten. Their presence was so normal, that you would only ever notice them in their absence.
Magic was the same for Agott. But it was not the same for Coco.
There was something sweet about this. About the spark in Coco’s eyes. About the way she would giggle with glee when a spell had a pretty effect.
Even if she cried – and Agott really had seen her cry – Coco would smile again in the end. And she would remind Agott that maybe there was some beauty in all of what she did. And that she, too, might deserve to be looked at that way.
It was egoistic. She knew it was. But Agott did not want to lose it. That spark. That smile. Those green eyes, and the voice that told her that she, too, was wonderful.
