I lost count of how many young witches and wizards Mira had brought in during the past hour. She blinked in and out of existence so fluidly, it was like watching someone dance through rips in reality—appearing here, disappearing there, as though the laws of space didn't apply to her.
What surprised me more, though, was how not tired I felt. Despite the flurry of magic and movement, I wasn't drained—not even close to exhaustion. Not yet, at least.
"Alright, Mira, that's enough for today," Tera called, her tone gentle but firm. "Sera's done more than enough healing for one session. She may not feel it now, but trust me—it'll catch up with her later."
Mira gave a small, resigned nod, then vanished in a flicker of light, taking the last few witches with her.
"Sorry about that," Tera said, smiling apologetically. "Once Mira gets going, it's hard to make her stop." She moved behind me to gather a few brooms—battered, wooden things that definitely looked more suited for sweeping than flying.
I eyed them warily. "Please don't tell me I'm supposed to ride one of those."
My voice cracked slightly, and I hated how obvious the fear was. I didn't do well with heights, and those sticks looked like they'd snap under the weight of a whisper.
Tera chuckled. "I'll teach you. They're faster than walking, and a lot more fun than you think."
I wasn't convinced. Not even a little.
Tera gently set the broom down on the ground before me. I noticed it shifted slightly, as if it had been tickled, and I caught a faint giggle escaping her lips. A wave of nervousness crept over me—clearly, they had something planned.
"Alright," she began, "here's what you need to know. Your broom has feelings. Think of them like pets—probably more alive than you'd expect." I nodded, already sensing that this broom possessed a will of its own, and it wasn't exactly eager to welcome me.
"You can feel the broom, like you're holding onto it, much like when you channel your magic. But sometimes, brooms need a little push. Not all of them are obedient." She chuckled softly, and I suspected mine was one of those unruly ones.
"Command it like this—Sursum!" Tera's voice hardened with authority, a tone I hadn't heard from her before. I jumped as the broom shot into her hands faster than the wind.
I watched in awe as she controlled the broom with ease. Turning back to mine, I could feel it testing me, as if uncertain whether I was worthy to command it. Taking a chance, I tried to move it upward without speaking the spell.
But the broom resisted stubbornly.
"Command it!" Tera urged, her frustration almost palpable as if scolding the broom itself for making things difficult.
I took a deep breath and shouted, "Sursum!" My voice rang out, unfamiliar even to my own ears. To my surprise, the broom moved upward, settling into my hand. It obeyed.
A victorious smile spread across my face as I glanced at Tera.
She returned the smile, pride shining in her eyes.
"Well done," she said. "You made Bristle listen to you. That's no small feat. Most witches give up on this broom long before they succeed." I looked at Bristle again; its stubbornness and age were clear.
"He's one of the oldest brooms we still have. Don't underestimate him—he's incredibly fast and fiercely loyal. Though he looks fragile, he's surprisingly sturdy." No wonder it appeared so worn—because it truly was ancient.
"Once you've made a broom listen to you, it becomes yours," Tera said with a smile. "Bristle is yours now." I could tell she had planned this all along—now she was testing my resolve, my sense of command.
"How do we ride it?" I asked, curiosity bubbling up inside me.
Tera returned my smile, then effortlessly swung herself onto her broom—riding it sideways but still facing me—and began to levitate with graceful ease. She looked completely at home, calm and confident. I found myself yearning to ride like that someday.
I released my hold on Bristle, watching as he hovered steadily in the air. Tentatively, I tried to mount him. But fear held me back, and instead of sitting astride as Tera did, I gripped him tightly between my thighs, unsure and hesitant.
"Alright, that'll do," Tera laughed, clearly amused by my nervousness.
"I'm afraid of heights," I admitted, my voice shaky. "I don't know if I can manage. I just hope Bristle won't let me fall." I gave the broom a reassuring pat, and it shifted beneath my hand. I hoped that was a sign of trust, not irritation.
"It won't let you fall," Tera said firmly. "Trust your broom—and trust yourself." With that, she soared upward, swiftly reaching the top of the gymnasium. She glanced back at me, encouraging me to follow her lead.
Summoning every ounce of courage, I coaxed Bristle upward. Slowly but steadily, we ascended.
I didn't dare look down.
We were high above the ground, and I knew that if I looked down, dizziness would overtake me.
"I think I'm okay riding it… as long as I don't look down," I confessed. "My stomach's doing flips, and I'm pretty sure I'd throw up if I did."
Tera laughed, the sound light and genuine."It's alright," Tera assured me. "You'll get used to it."
With that, we took to the air again, practicing for another hour beneath the open sky.
-
By now, we were outside, and most of the young witches and wizards had already left. Mira appeared in our view, holding a wand. "We'll teach you how to use one," she said simply.
I'd never used a wand before. My mother had never allowed it, insisting I could manage just fine without one. But as a child, I'd wanted one desperately. I was stubborn back then—how could a witch not have a wand?
"Wands are something we all share," Mira explained. "White Witches don't use them. They can cast most spells without one." Her words resonated with me, and I decided to be honest.
"My mom told me I don't need a wand. I can command simple spells without it—levitation and the like. Is elemental magic also cast with a wand?" I asked.
Both Mira and the other witch exchanged puzzled looks, realization dawning on them. Since I was half White Witch, it made sense—I might know how to use a wand, or I might never need one.
"Yes, most elemental magic is cast through a wand," Mira said. "Have you ever tried summoning fire or water?"
I nodded immediately. My mother had tried to teach me when I was young, but I'd never succeeded.
She nodded in understanding. "Alright, forget the wand for now. Since you say you can levitate without one..." She looked at me expectantly.
I nodded again.
For a moment, the three of us stood in silence. I waited, unsure what was next. They were powerful witches, but it seemed my abilities were beyond what they could teach.
Just as I was about to break the silence, Felix approached us, his expression serious.
"Sera Thorne," Felix's voice was steady but heavy with regret, "you are being summoned to stand trial. The Elders, the High Witch, and representatives from the families of the Covenry will be present. You have no right to refuse, but you will be given the chance to explain yourself."
He smiled sadly—a smile that didn't reach his eyes. I could feel his reluctance; he clearly wished there was another way, but duty bound him.
Mira and Tera stepped back as Felix raised his hand and muttered a binding spell, chains of magic wrapping tightly around my wrists.
In that moment, I became a prisoner in this land.