Chapter 5

“Being a witch is more than just waving your wand around.” Mistress Sungul would always say, her own wand poised between her fingers. “We are what mages dream to be. We are what priests fear.”

It was almost like a mantra. 

As Sungul leisurely paced around the room, soaking in my blank stares and gazing at the mist that oozed from her wand, she would repeat herself. Sometimes muttering so low that I had to strain to hear her. Usually, she was boisterous, loudly jabbering on about our roles as witches.    

Being a witch herself, Sungul was always proud of the status we hold in the world. People would look upon us as if we were gods. Magic was a mystery that most couldn’t understand. It was chaotic, unknowing and seemingly unyielding, and yet to them we were able to control it with a slew of words or a twirl of a wand. To them, being able to wield magic as “flawlessly” as we can was a sign that we were blessed by the gods.   

“Do you know why we are feared?” She would ask.

“Because of our power?” I shrug, “You always talk about how strong we are.”

“If only it was that simple.” She would sigh. Her gaze would finally travel from her wand to me, the dullness that glazed over her green eyes fading. “But that's only part of it, Noémie.”

The conversation was always the same. 

Never anything definitive. A continuous repeat of vagueness and lack of substance that have always left me unsatisfied. I have no idea why she continues to ask the same thing. My answers never seem to satisfy her. There was always a reason why the answer I provided wasn’t the one she wanted. 

As Mistress Sungul fiddled about, I had my attention turned elsewhere. Gazing at my paper, a list of all the answers I’ve provided written down in my familiar scrawl. I added the answer I provided, carefully curving the letters into neat loops and straight lines.

“Found it!”

I paused, glancing up from my writing. An empty bottle was being waved around, a smug grin forming onto her lips. Ignoring the mess that she made on her desk, Sungul quickly maneuvered around it, making her way towards me. “What’s that?” I asked. 

“Your concealment potion.” Sungul answered, “I finally got around to testing it.”

“Was it better than the last one I made?”  

“Surprisingly, yes.” She nods, “Although, I would like for you to continue practicing on your potion skills.” Accepting the empty bottle that she was handing to me, I waited for Sungul to continue. There was always more to be said when it came to her. “The concealment potion you provided was good, but it didn’t last as long as it should’ve. Before I see you again, I would like for you to figure out why and make another sample.” 

“I’ll have to restock on supplies.”

“The school will supply that for you.”

My potion skills were subpar at best. Although I've grown a lot better at creating them, I knew they were nothing compared to other witches. It is something I hoped to excel at one day. With that in mind, I began to pack up my things, ready to try again at creating a flawless concealment potion. 

“Where are you going?” Sungul asks. 

“I thought it would be best if I started on it now.” I answered. “Since you're done with your lesson, I assumed it would be alright.”

She watched as I stacked a weathered book on top of another. “I would like to talk to you first.”

“Now?”

Sungul nods.

Not bothering to try to worm my way out of this, I settled back down onto my stool. I would rather be arms deep in charbs hearts, trying to deduce which organ would work best with my newest concoction. It would need to be a heart that's not too old, slightly withered yet plump enough to still be gushing blood. A fresh heart wouldn’t be strong enough to hold. It would dissipate within the other ingredients, becoming completely ineffective.  

Maybe that's why my potion didn’t work before. 

I thought the last heart I picked was a little too fresh. Instead of trusting my gut, I overthought-  

“How have you been?”

Her warm smile, although comforting, was also suspicious. As boisterous as Sungul is, she wasn’t a warm sort of person. I couldn’t remember the last time she wanted to sit down and talk. As long as I could show up for class, Sungul wasn’t concerned about my well being. Her goal was to turn me into one of the best witches in the country.

Her job is to teach.

Not to mingle.  

“I’m sorry?”