Rise of the Night Witch

Chapter 1.10 - Family Matters

Recap: Last time, Darcy gave Marissa a bunch of feathers and told her to practice using them. They'll meet again next Monday.

Our home loomed in the town's outskirts. Compared to the other houses, it stared you in the face like a toad's eye in a potion.

Not sure how many of you know that the New York Upstate area, well, exists, but Summer Hill was part of it. Built in northeastern Westchester, New York, it neighboured famous places like Tarrytown, Sleepy Hollow, or the Briarcliff Manor. As such, Summer Hill was your typical Hudson Valley suburban dream. Pastel-colored houses, lovely lawns with white picket fences, sunny lanes where friendly neighbors walked their dogs - you could run a checklist and hit every fifties sitcom trope.

Our house was different. Its overgrown lawn full of potion ingredients, its boarded-up windows, its old, sagging gambrel roof, and its peeled-off cement exposed it for what it was. It was a suburban witch's hut, abandoned for years. Houses are like people – in my opinion. If you show them too little care, they will wither and decay. When we moved back here, we bought it for a very cheap price. The previous residents got sick of the noise caused by a basement goblin they couldn't even see.

Dad's Ford was nowhere in sight. If I hurried, I could finish before the sunset and he came home.

I rushed upstairs straight into the bathroom. The mirror revealed a tiny scar under my sleeve, but otherwise, Darcy healed me flawlessly. I washed the Otherworldy mud from my face before taming my brown locks with a hairbrush. I removed a piece of toilet paper and tore it to bits.

Slowly, methodically, I limped into my living room. I felt tired to the bone. Even with the freshwater still in my face, sand crumbled under my eyelids. I walked towards the couch and, with each step, I left a piece of toilet paper.

That way, I created a forty-foot toilet paper trail to measure how far I carried the feather.

Our living room was small and full of bugs. Its mismatched old furniture left by previous residents included a tiny-aged television you could watch from the couch.

I took out my phone and searched for the Signal app Darcy had mentioned earlier. I contacted her there and Darcy promised she'd keep me up-to-date about news concerning the Council.

Sitting on the couch, I conjured up Siris on my lap. He felt so real when he assumed a physical form. As if he was made of actual flesh and covered in actual fur. I always wanted to have a cat since I was young. When I was ten, her Dad bought me one from the animal shelter, but we had to give it back since I was allergic. Thank Seraphiel that this didn't extend to magic ghost cats.

He stood up from my lap and jumped on the coffee table. "Eh, I'm a spirit of wisdom, not a plush toy."

"Aren't you also a spirit of cuteness?"

"Eh, whatever. Go practice so that you can move to your Academy and leave me alone."

Closing my eyes, I clutched my mother's necklace. Fears, worries, and anxieties; my mind shed these dark thoughts like a snake sheds its skin. My heartbeat slowed. I focused on nothing other than Siris, the cloud of my life energy, and the path. The feather drifted through the aether like a leaf. My mind scattered as the feathered strayed too far and the cloud vanished in a puff of smoke.

I needed closer focus. I needed a mental tunnel – a magical magnetic bottle, following Darcy's plasma analogy – to keep it stable.

I remembered Darcy's tips. She said I needed an inner fire, something specific to focus on. I pictured my mother sitting next to me and smiling each time I made it just a little farther. I pictured ugly monsters and callous Councillors whose faces I wanted to punch. And I listened to music on my phone. Relaxing, dark ocarina music that produced the ancient and arcane mood I sought.