#wickedchatzy

[thebickedwitchoftherest]

This Witch Empty, Yeet || POTW: Cece & Morgan

Cece reveals her secret to Morgan. Then the two track down a magical artifact known as the Imperium, bringing them one step closer to solving the mystery of the chest on the beach.

Cece and Morgan had done their research. Luckily for them, the library had surprisingly well kept records on all different sorts of the town’s history, including a small but formidable group of women who lived as one with nature were frequently seen passing through the woods at night. Though they may not have gotten the happy ending they may have wanted, the headlines about a few of their death had made the news enough that the two were able to learn more about them, including tales of eye witnesses seeing them around Dark Score Lake. Which probably only added fuel to the fire regarding the creepy stories that were told about the place. It could all be a dead end. But Cece had to admit that this chest had piqued her curiosity and she wanted to know more about it. So, the two loaded up in Cece’s car and began driving to Dark Score Lake. She had no idea what the two were looking for, and even less knowledge on how dangerous it may be. All she knew was that she was looking for an artifact that should help her get that chest open and hopefully end all of the weird shit happening around the town. But as the two drove into town and towards the lake, Cece remembered that she hadn’t disclosed anything to Morgan yet about what they were doing or the truth about Cece herself. Still not sure exactly what she was dragging Morgan into, she figured now was better than any. “So, I need to tell you something.”

Morgan was using the drive over to practice her mindful breathing. White Crest had been pushing her anxiety more lately and this, this marching into a purportedly haunted place to follow the story of some mystery thing that maybe killed people was bringing her back to that kind of feeling. She drummed her fingers on her lap. What if something truly bizarre and magical happened? How was she going to explain that? “Oh, yeah?” She asked brightly, maybe too brightly for the situation. “What’s up?”

Cece had planned on living magic in the past. A plan that had already failed gloriously within the first month living in White Crest due to the arrival of the chest and by proxy, the karkinoids. More people than Cece had been comfortable with already knew her secret, and the more that knew the more danger Cece would be in. But Morgan had helped Remmy, and she hadn’t seemed dangerous. When push came to shove, Morgan was the first person that came to mind when she realized that she may need help to find this artifact she knew she was searching for. Morgan and Cece got along. They talked and they laughed, which made the tension even more obvious from the silence that hung in the car. “That chest on the beach, I think there’s a way to open it.” Cece began, which was simple enough. “There was a coven in White Crest that buried an artifact called the Imperium that can be used along with a spell to open up the chest.” Cece adjusted the heat in the car so that it wasn’t blowing directly on her face. Her mouth was dry enough as it is. She reached for her coffee in the cup holder and took a long sip. “I know this because someone sent the spell over to me. The spell speaks in circles but it has the same idea, that somebody with Power or Pure of heart can open it.” That would at least catch Morgan up on the current drama. Now the real juicy bit, “And the reason I know all of this is because I’m a witch.”

Morgan went still the moment Cece said she had a way to open the chest. In all the weeks since she’d pulled the blasted thing out of the sea with Ricky, she’d mostly come to accept her aura of cold. Just one more thing to carry, and not the worst one at that. But now an alternative hung like a gold plated carrot at the end of a stick. Now there was a reason and--- “You’re a what?” A witch. Cece was a witch. A witch who could read spells, who could look for signs of honest-to-universe arcana in a library. “Holy shit. This whole time?” Wait, that was stupid. Morgan began to re-evaluate what she’d left out in the living room, things she said, signs that might’ve been given. “Does that mean you know, uh...about me too?”

Unsurprisingly, Morgan was a bit taken aback by Cece’s confession. Morgan had been very open about the magic prior to even meeting in person. There had been opportunity, ones that she had opted against and blatantly denied her background. She couldn’t feel bad about her decision, not when she knew what was at risk. But that didn’t mean she didn’t hope that things could be different. “Well, at first I couldn’t be sure if you were serious or just claiming to be a witch to be edgy or whatever. But I noticed some of the stuff around the house which all seemed legit.” Cece pulled off of the main road and onto the road that led down to Dark Score Lake. It was coming up, soon. “Look, once we get here I need you to be on guard. I don’t know exactly what we are looking for, but we should be looking for anything that you can sense some magic coming off of.”

Cece was taking all of this pretty much in stride, but then, she’d had however long to sit on and process it. Morgan, on the other hand, was playing catch up. Nothing was really wrong, she supposed. Cece had magic, maybe even alchemy, if she was such a chemistry wiz, and she didn’t mind Morgan’s being the way she was. It would’ve been nice to panic so hard about her finding out about Skylar, or Remmy, but, heck, maybe she knew about them too. Morgan looked at Cece, trying to make sense of her, of why it took the chest on the beach to tell her. “Um--yeah. Right! We should probably have our witchy heart-to-heart later, after we find this Imperium thing.” The car began to slow as they reached the place. “Since we’re disclosing, I’m assuming-slash-hoping you know ghosts are totally real, right? And mermaids, apparently terrifying. I think they just live in the ocean, but this place is spooky enough that it seemed to bear mentioning.” She reached into her bag for the rod of iron Deirdre had sent her and touched it to her pop socket to shape into a knife. Hopefully she wouldn’t have to figure out how to use it. “Ready when you are, I guess.” 

Cece was thankful that Morgan seemed to be taking this well. Especially considering the circumstances that the two were in. If it were a perfect world, Cece would have sat Morgan down over a drink and the two would have watched Bewitched when she dropped the bomb. Although in a truly perfect world, she never would have ended up in Maine at all. So maybe this wasn’t the time to worry about the way the universe worked. “Yes, and yes. Though I’ve never actually seen a mermaid myself. A scale from one can be used to make a great potion that lets you breathe underwater. For a short time at least.” That wasn’t important at the moment. Cece pulled the car into a parking spot and glanced back over at Morgan, eyeing the weapon in her hand. “Nice weapon. I like the spirit.” If they were lucky, no weapons would be needed. Just a simple snatch and grab. Cece pushed herself out of the vehicle and stared out over the lake. It had a creepy reputation, but it was hardly something that could scare Cece away. “Remember, we’re out here looking for anything magical. If it’s strong enough, we might be able to just feel it in the air. At least that’s what I’m hoping for.”

“Yeah, well, better than going in without anything, right?” Morgan said, hoping a good stiff smile would keep a lid on her nerves. This was fine. If the Imperium was connected to the chest, there was a good chance it would practically reek with magic. And hopefully in the same vein this iron knife would send off ‘please don’t possess me because I mean business’ vibes to any ghosts lurking beyond the veil. “Any clue on how big it is?” She asked. “Or if it’s buried? Because if it’s buried--” Something invisible rustled the grass ahead of them. Morgan went still “It might be a little hard to sense.” She took stock of the land around them. This was a pretty good spot for hiding something you didn’t want to turn up accidentally. But where would you feel like it would be safe?

“I’m not even sure what the thing looks like, honestly.” Cece admitted, unhappy to proclaim that she was coming in almost as blind as Morgan herself had been when she agreed to help Cece with almost zero prior knowledge. Cece was a planner, though the personality trait may surprise some people. When it came to fun she was all about going with the flow, but this was serious business and Cece treated it so. She hated that she knew nothing about the Imperium down to what it looked like or what exactly that thing did. It bugged her, and like a puzzle to be solved, Cece knew it was going to drive her crazy until she put all the pieces together. “I’ve heard there’s a cemetery around here. If I was going to bury something that I didn’t want dug up, I’d try there.” Cece shrugged, a little too familiar with that exact scenario. “If I had to guess there’s probably a protection spell around it, so we may have to work a little magic.” Cece trailed along the grass beside the lake, stopping only when she heard the grass rustling. After a long moment, she figured the coast was clear and began walking again. “How are you feeling so far?”

“Oh, I’m good! You know, just getting in some girl-bonding time. Plodding around a creepy lake, for buried treasure, making a note to call my therapist back.” Morgan replied, brightly as she could. “A little positivity is good for the anxiety, although at the rate this town is going, I might need something a little stronger.” she explained. “I guess I should tell you now that the living room didn’t get messy that one time over a LARP crafting accident. Blood-clingers. I don’t know if I’m a hundred percent clean yet, from the bite. But it’s been awhile since then, so--” Another sound. Just the breeze of life over the water. Or the creature from the black lagoon. Either way, Morgan stepped a little faster away from it. The cemetery was at least within sight, flanked by tall, ancient looking trees. “How old was this coven again?” She asked.

Things started making a bit more sense now that the two were being more open. Cece remembered the LARPI-ing incident and had believed Morgan despite the obvious signs implying that she shouldn’t have. Honestly, who actually LARPs in Maine? If people legitimately did then Cece offered her apologies. “Blood-Clingers? Well that explains the blood.” Cece shrugged. At least the truth was out. “I have some stuff back at the house that I use to make my own Hot Toddy. Drink that and it’ll clear anything left out.” Another movement out into the forest caught both of their attentions. Cece sure hoped that Morgan was prepared to use that weapon if needed. “The last article that I read about them was around the 70’s.” As they came up to the cemetery, Cece slung the backpack that had been on her shoulders onto the ground and bent down to rifle through it. She eventually pulled out a flask and left the bookbag on the ground. “The spell my source gave me talked about the former coven, saying it was hidden in a veil of mystery. My guess is its some kind of illusion or protection spell. If we can cancel that out, I bet we find it easily.” Or easily enough. Cece uncapped the flask and tipped out, beginning to walk the perimeter as the thick, red liquid poured from the bottle and dripped onto the ground.

So they died out in the 70s, but who knew when they started. Old enough to have planted a tree over something, to mark its place and render it impossible to find? Morgan wasn’t sure. She was about to ask Cece when out came a flask. Morgan screwed her eyes shut. “What did I say about the bloodclinger!” She squealed, and put a hand over her face for good measure. She was familiar with this sort of thing. And, sure enough, the spell began to bubble, boil and spit. They were close to whatever it was. Really close. Morgan could almost taste warmth in her mouth, it was so close. She reached out a hand blindly for Cece. “Wherever it’s leading us, take us there!” The sooner they had it, the sooner things might actually turn around for her for once.

Admittedly, Cece should have thought twice about the blood after Morgan had come clean about the blood clinger. “Whoops! Sorry!” Cece whispered at Morgan apologetically, feeling instantly guilty. “It’s not human blood at least! If that helps at all.” Cece tried, hoping that may help the situation, even if it’s just a little bit. But regardless, this tracking concoction Cece had whipped up was the best bet they had to track down a protection spell. If there was magic around here, this would find it. Unsure if Morgan would be familiar with it at all, Cece decided to explain as she walked. She hoped it would double as a distraction from the blood. “It’s like a game of hot and cold. My own little tracking spell. It looks for magic, if the blood steams when it hits the ground then we’re heading in the right direction.” And so the followed the trail, changing direction when the blood stopped steaming. Eventually, the two came across a tree. Steam billowed from the ground and the blood boiled as it hit the ground around the area. This must be it. “So, would you say this tree was about 40-50 years old?” Cece asked Morgan curiously. 

Morgan kept her eyes closed and followed Cece’s lead until they stopped. It was the tree. She opened her eyes and looked. It wasn’t the oldest pine she’d ever seen, but it was robust, certainly far from a sapling. Maybe? “Yeah,” she said, touching her hand gently to the bark. “I think it...it might be?” There was something coming off it, like pin pricks up her fingers, but Morgan couldn’t tell if it was real magic or just her own anticipation. If she could actually do something to make this be over, if they could find this thing together-- “See if it works.”

They must have buried the artifact with the tree. That, or they planted the tree when the buried the artifact. To act as some sort of marker for the Imperium. This close, Cece could feel the magic from the protection spell. Alone, breaking a protection spell would be difficult. Together, her and Morgan had a better chance against a coven’s protection spell. Though Cece couldn’t be sure just how much experience Morgan had with this sort of magic. She realized that while Morgan had been fairly upfront about the magic thing, the talks had all been fairly surface level. She didn’t actually know much about Morgan’s history with magic. “How much do you know about protection spells? And more importantly, breaking them.” She flung some of the blood onto the tree and watched as it sizzled against the tree. She had to admit that was impressive, some kind of protection spell hidden within the tree they had grown. Cece could dig it. 

Morgan didn’t have time to duck her face away but, to her relief, her vision stayed clear and she watched, gobsmacked, as the blood mixture seeped into the bark of the old pine, seeped until it was saturated. Then the trunk groaned. “Shit--” She stumbled back. “Okay! That’s-- that’s definitely a sign! That is a hundred percent full of magic!” She clapped her hands with delight. “So, how do you want to get that protection ward down? My dad was really fond of the ol’ corinthian incantation, but I’m not super practiced in it. How about you?”

It was adorable seeing the excitement on Morgan’s face. Cece wasn’t ready to disclose much about her life with the coven, too many gray areas and lines crossed, but she would have to sit with Morgan and talk magic some night over some wine. Without specifics, Cece could think of a few stories to share. Cece hated giving the coven any credit, but most of her experience with magic came from them, and it had made her well versed in the supernatural world. So it hadn’t been all bad. “The Corinthian incantation?” A little biblical for Cece’s taste, but against a coven’s magic it would probably be pretty effective. She liked it. “I can work with that.” She pulled a knife from her bag, one that she had stolen from the coven. It had been soaked in witch blood and used as a ceremonial piece for many spells before this. It served as a sort of good luck charm for Cece. At least, all those spells had worked in the past. She stepped forward, carving a symbol into the tree, a groan escaping its roots in protest. When she was done, she stabbed the dagger into the center of it. “It’s mostly Latin. If you know any of the words, follow along. If you don’t that’s fine too. I just need you to help feed magic into the spell. Here.” She held her hand out to Morgan. Not exactly necessary during a spell, but it seemed right in the moment. “You ready?”

Morgan nodded and squeezed Cece’s hand. She hadn’t done magic with anyone but herself since before her mom passed. But she slid back into it with ease, opening up, filling with want for this twice. Damned. Tree. To open for them. She skimped on the Latin, until the end, the only part she truly remembered. Her voice raised, as if she could sharpen her intent with raw noise alone. As if lightning shot up from the earth, the tree snapped from root to tip. Leaves screamed from their stems and scrambled for air. In the new magic scorched wound was a dark hovel and a heavy wave of power even Morgan could sense from her standing spot. “You’re amazing!” She cried, and raced forward to investigate. She stopped just short of plunging her hand in. “You don’t think it can freeze me twice over, do you?” She asked. 

Morgan and Cece’s magic mixed well together and it made the spell even easier to perform. Their magic flowed together and complemented each other. Towards the end of the spell, Morgan jumped in with her own Latin and Cece could feel the spell’s growing even more in power. Then, just like that, the tree snapped with a loud cracking noise. Leaves scattered the area and fell down onto the ground around Cece and Morgan. “Shit. We’re amazing, you mean?” Cece laughed incredulously. Take that you hippy witches. “I won’t let that happen, don’t worry.” Cece promised. Once they got that chest opened, Cece would be able to fix the curse that was afflicting Morgan. And she assumed other people in town as well, but they weren’t really her concern at the moment.

“Okay! Great! I guess uh--we’re going in!” Morgan stuck her arm down the wound in the tree and searched. Her fingers skimmed just over the edge of something wooden and damp. Of course old school witches couldn’t be trusted to make something with an easy grip handle, it just made too much sense. Morgan stuck down her arm nearly up to the shoulder to reach and at last found a grip on a corner and a latch, enough to scoop the thing into her palm. Funny, it didn’t smack her with its whatever-force the way the chest did. She brushed the dirt off and ran her fingers over the latches. At least it looked like it could be open if someone one wanted to. “Huh. Pretty nifty. Feel like the name Imperium is sort of an oversell, but--” Morgan’s body began to feel clammy, like the chills you sometimes got after a flu shot. She looked at it closer, brushing the dirt away to read some of the markings. There had to be something familiar here, right? And there was, it just wasn’t in the right. “Oh, shit--!” In a panic Morgan hurled the Imperium as hard as she could away from herself, and somewhere in the direction of Cece’s face.

Despite the confident look that Cece was forcing, she caught herself cringing slightly as Morgan’s arm reached further down into the tree trunk. She was confident that they had bested the barrier the old coven had set up. But that hadn’t meant they couldn’t have another trick up their sleeves. Luckily for both of them, mostly Morgan, that hadn’t been the case. Morgan pulled out what appeared to be a small wooden box. From afar, Cece examined the artifact that Morgan held in her hand. So this was the imperium? There wasn’t much to it. Until suddenly Morgan was yelping and the ancient, magical artifact was flying at Cece’s face. She flinched back and caught the box in her hands before it could collide with her head. “Jesus, Morgan what the hell?” Then it struck her too. The prickly feeling, the way the world suddenly felt heavier somehow. The Imperium was draining magic. Cece dropped the box to the ground, not wasting any time to consider if thee magic box could survive the 4-foot fall. “Holy shit” Cece muttered, bending down to get a better look at it. Instead of picking it up, she used her finger to gently push at the box, tilting her head curiously when it seemed to be unfold. Woah. It was unfolding. Tilting around and uncurling itself into a different shape. “This thing drains magic.” Cece finally spoke aloud. All this time, Cece had been so dead set on finding this hidden artifact that she never stopped to consider why it had been hidden in the first place. A device used to drain magic? There wasn’t much more dangerous to a witch than that. It would be dangerous for the two to bring the artifact back, with it this hungry for power. Unless…. “I think this thing needs energy. We need to charge it.” 

Morgan was taking awhile to stagger up to her feet. That had been one heck of a doozy drain. “Yep!” She called, wobbling over to Cece like a baby deer. “Yep it does!” She caught up to her at last and stared down at the thing. A box that unfolded. Kind of cool, mostly unnerving. Who went around making stuff like this? Why were old witch covens so cruel? Couldn’t you make a magic box of good luck? Or protection? But no. Had to be something dark and awful like this. “Wait, we have to let it drain us on purpose? Isn’t that maybe not the best idea right now?” Then again, it wasn’t like they knew anyone else who could readily take the hit instead, did they?

Cece pondered Morgan’s statement. She was right, of course. Neither of them had any clue to what extent this box could drain energy. It may be enough to drain the magic from a witch permanently, maybe even kill. “It’s definitely a terrible idea. But maybe our only one.” They had Cece’s bag, but until that thing had some energy inside of it they didn’t have a way to guarantee that they could transport it safely. Even if they could get it inside Cece’s bag, without the magic of a barrier spell she wasn’t sure that a bag could keep them safe either. “We may not need to charge it up entirely. If we can give it enough juice that it doesn’t drain us as soon as we touch it we may be able to get it back safely.” Cece sounded more confident than she was but being with the coven had mostly taught her that there was some real merit in faking it until making it. “I have an idea.” Cece exclaimed, resting on her knees in the dirt and eyeing the Imperium. “If we do it together then maybe we can charge it enough without draining one of us too much.” As long as Morgan was down, it was at least worth a try.

Morgan looked down at the box. Her gut instinct was no. Absolutely not. Do not give away free ‘fuck with me’ coupons to the universe. But if she ever wanted to be warm again, if she wanted to claw one tiny bit of normal back from this town, someone had to do the thing, and she really didn’t need a de-powered Cece on her hands. That wasn’t fair, she was trying to help and--damnit. “Okay,” she huffed. “We do this together. But just a quick charge! We still have to be able to drive out of here.” She hovered her hands over the Imperium and waited for Cece to touch it first before gritting her teeth and doing the same. 

As soon as her palms touched the wood, it felt like the boxed clamped onto Cece’s hands and held onto them against her well. It felt like needles poking into her skin, and goosebumps travelled up at her skin as she felt the energy dragged from her body and into the box. She could only imagine that Morgan was feeling the same way. The box was strong, stronger than Cece had imagined. It was draining too fast, too powerful unless her and Morgan could regain some control. “Take a deep breath.” Cece managed to speak, trying to follow her own advice. Her hands clenched at the box even tighter, but she kept going. Eventually, after what felt like hours, Cece noticed a slight shift. A change in the flow, as the distribution between the box’s magic and their own seemed to even out. They had matched each other. That had to be enough. Cece forced herself to let go of the box, all but falling backwards to get away from it. “That’s it.” Cece said through deep breaths. Once she regained her composure she moved forward again, running her hand along the box. She could still feel it, the Imperium’s magic pulling at her fingertips, but it was not like it was before. It was more controlled, less hungry for the power that Cece and Morgan held within them. “Fuck. We did it.” Cece laughed, incredulously at first before erupting into a billowing of triumphant laughter. “Fuck yeah, we did it!”

Morgan was still wondering if she could wait a few more seconds to make up for having to pick it out of the hole in the first place when she felt the pull of the Imperium. Her hands fell on the board, fused and locked. “Shit, shit, shit--” This was a really bad time to find out the Imperium was just going to zap them dry for good. The worst time, the absolute worst time ever. Morgan began to panic and pulled with everything she had. The Imperium let her go and Morgan toppled back into the grass, flat on her back. “Shit,” she breathed again. “Are you still alive, Cece?” Then her roommate laughed. Yep, still alive. Did that mean-- “We...we really did it? I did something and it worked?”

Cece was still celebrating in their triumph. What a rush. It had been years since she had done something like that. It felt nice to be able to work through a spell and the magical adrenaline like that again, even if it was just this once. After this chest, Cece would be back to her limited magic, normal life thing. But today? Today she celebrated. “Of course it worked!” Cece danced around, stopping to offer a hand to Morgan and help pull her up, “Because you are amazing!” She reached for the box, picking it up and tossing it into her bookbag with relative ease. “Now let’s get this back to the house! I need to get some stuff together and phone a friend. Then we’re going to make that chest our bitch.”

@mor-beck-more-problems

[3starsquinn]

Happy Accidents || Morgan & Orion

Morgan tracks a book down to the abandoned Scribe headquarters, where she runs into a familiar face in the form of her student, Rio.

Another day, another ancient text or Scribe journal that needed front to back translation. Orion had accepted that he could get through about one a day, maybe two if the text was small enough and he was willing to stay up late enough. Another day down, another book down. Only about a couple thousand or six left to go. But he would take it one day at a time. He took breaks sometimes. He would hang out at the Scribe headquarters to do his homework, sometimes he would just read the texts for fun. He had even begun to sort the books amongst the shelves. Whoever had kept track of the books before had done an incredible job, but the labelling and order had gotten lost among the last forty or so years. So Rio had taken it upon himself to get things reorganized. Today, Orion made his way against the grass and towards the hidden Scribe headquarters. His bookbag was weighed down by a grocery book full of snack food and he carried a twelve pack of soda in his hand. He dipped between the trees and came across the impasse where the barrier stood. He found the tree that his uncle had shown him so many years ago and muttered the small incantation that he had memorized minutes after learning it. Something he could never forget. Suddenly, the Scribe Headquarters stood before him, and he slipped onto the courtyard to head towards the entrance.

Morgan was fine. More time to herself in the evenings meant more chances to spread her net wide in search of magic! Hopefully, soon, it would also mean more sleep, but Morgan’s body wasn’t ready to accept only having pillows to drape her arms over or the inferior quality of her bed. So here she was, following the world’s buggiest tracking spell for a missing scribe journal from around one of the curse years. Morgan could have sworn she had done everything right, and find my lost whatever was pretty easy as far as spells went. Granted, looking for something she’d never seen was a lot harder, but---the middle of the woods? Really? Morgan checked the amulet in her palm again and stepped out of her car. Getting warmer. Morgan was about to turn on her flashlight when she saw a familiar backpack bouncing through the overgrowth. Orion? Morgan followed a few paces behind him. The amulet, meanwhile, began to heat up in her palm. Warmer-- 

Se touched his hand to a tree and-- Shit. 

So much for no such thing as Hogwarts. The building was massive, the kind of library you imagine in fairy tales. Even the decay of skeleton ivy and stones burst by roots was beautiful in its own way. And--it was going to close if Morgan didn’t hustle. “Rio!” Morgan sprinted after him. “Rio!”

Orion was still reeling from Arthur showing up at the Scribe headquarters earlier in the week. In the past two months, Rio had spent a lot of time at the abandoned building in the woods. But he had never met another soul that had found the place until the local History Professor had come waltzing into the building as if magical barriers hadn’t existed. Rio had thought it was just a one off, but that was before a loud voice began screaming his name across the forest as Rio tried to hurry into the building. For a split moment of pure terror, Rio was convinced that it was Athena. She had followed him into the woods and discovered his secret and soon she would run back to home and tell the truth to their parents. But that voice wasn’t Athena’s, though it was familiar. Rio froze in his tracks and stayed completely still for a long second, finally building up the courage to slowly turn around to face the woman’s voice. “Uh- Professor Beck?” Rio asked incredulously. Of all of his theories, he hadn’t considered her. “Um… what are you doing here?” 

Morgan hadn’t been thinking of ‘next’ when she’d called after Rio. She’d been thinking of getting into the magic library where, apparently, her very functioning tracking spell wanted her to go. After she skidded to a stop, however, it became clear that she should have considered something. What did it look like she was doing, exactly, at sundown like this? “Hi! Oh, just--you know!” No, no. Rio had made a library appear by taking down some kind of ward. He should be answering questions and she should be composing herself like a half functioning adult. She held up her tracking amulet, which was starting to turn her hand pink with its light. “Maybe not so different from what you’re doing in the middle of the woods on a weeknight in a magic library. That is what we’re looking at, right? That you just down the barrier around? It’s a pretty neat one, from the looks of it.”

“It-It’s not a magic library.” Orion mumbled, clearly embarrassed. He didn’t do well in most social situations anyways, but being cornered in one of the few places he actually felt safe only made him more timid. The only thing saving him from a full on panic attack was the person that stood in front of him. Professor Beck was easy to talk to and had always been a nice person. Clearly, the two didn’t know much about each other considering their current predicament. “It’s an abandoned building.. with a magic barrier that surrounds it.” He supposed the cat was out of the bag on this, there wasn’t much of a chance of convincing she had imagined that the building had appeared out of nowhere. “There is a library inside of it though. Among other things.” His eyes homed in on the trinket that Morgan held in her hand and started walking towards her to get a better look. “Woah.” Orion whistled, “That thing is.. So are you like… an actual witch?” Orion knew that they existed, had seen some of their spells at work. But he had never actually had a conversation with one.

“Magically protected library, fine,” Morgan said. The point was, Rio was something. You didn’t just accidentally know magical passwords. But who was he? What was his deal? “Okay, one thing at a time.” She held away the tracking amulet, since he seemed to want it so much. Better to get everything out in the open first. It would really be just her luck to have a witch hunter in her classroom as one of her favorite students. “I can’t make any magically binding promises, but you know I keep important information confidential from class, right? So I hope you believe me when I say I won’t go around sharing your identity with other people. So, cards on the table: what are you doing here? Is there an axe in that bag, or a grimoire, or--?”

Professor Beck held the amulet out towards Orion and he gingerly took it from her, noticing the heat from it and trying to examine it from all sides. “What is this?” Orion asked curiously. It was obviously enchanted in some way, but Orion wasn’t sure what the purpose was. Professor Beck was obviously going somewhere with the questioning. Maybe she thought that he was a witch himself, or something different. He couldn’t blame her, he supposed. But then she mentioned something about an axe being in his bag and he couldn’t help himself but begin laughing. “An- an axe?” He kept laughing, the idea of Orion carrying around something that dangerous being uncontrollably humorous to him. “No, no. I promise I’m not like some creepy murderer or something.” He handed the amulet back over to Morgan and slid the backpack off his back. He unzipped it and pulled out the grocery bags from it, exposing the various amount of snack foods that he had planned on storing inside the Scribe’s outdated kitchen area. “I- I come here to hang out and study sometimes. But I’m not a serial killer. And I’m not a witch or anything either.” The code to get into the Scribe Headquarters had probably looked like magic to those unfamiliar with the Scribes. Technically it was magic. Just the kind that anybody could do. “Have you ever heard of the Scribes?”

Morgan went soft with relief and took the amulet back. “The word I was avoiding was hunter,” she said. “But that’s good to know. This little do-hikey is a tracking spell. I hit a dead end at The Archive and thought I would be more proactive about the missing link.” A scribe journal. Maybe Rio could help? Something about the earnest, overworked boy being a secret scribe made a lot of sense. “I’ve heard of them, yeah,” she admitted. “Come on, we can walk and talk--” She was conscious of her not showing off her own card yet, but no one hunted scribes. Sometimes, from her reading, it seemed that people would yell at them a lot and take out some frustration on them. But not murders. There weren’t any inkwells or notebooks dangling from someone’s trophy case. Or maybe that was just a lie of convenience. Maybe Morgan was just tired of keeping count of what doors to herself she’d opened and how many were due to summon in something awful. Morgan checked to see that Rio was still with her before going on. “You don’t need to tell me anything you’re not comfortable with, but I’m admittedly curious: are you okay? Is there a reason scribe-ing is your...do kids still call it a ‘side hustle’?”

Orion was content walking along with Professor Beck until he heard her say the word. Hunter. How had she read him so easily? How could she have possibly known about him being a hunter. But he wasn’t a hunter. Maybe by blood, but not by practice. It was enough to throw him off. He could feel his face heating up and his cheeks blushing. His forehead broke out in a sweat that he wiped his shirt across. “Yeah uh – no hunting for me. Animal or otherwise.” He finally spoke again, hoping to drop the subject altogether. “A tracking spell? That’s cool. And it can help you find whatever you want?” He could admit that he wasn’t well versed when it came to magic. He had heard that Hunter’s had employed Witches from time to time to help with protection spells or tracking spells. “Uh” How did Orion answer a question like Are you okay? Clearly, the answer was no for a plethora of reasons but none that Orion was comfortable answering or Professor Beck truly wanted to know. “My Uncle used to be a Scribe. A long time ago.” He decided to go with the truth, even if it was the watered-down version. “He’s the one that showed me how to get into the building. And he’s the reason why I’m trying to keep it going. I mean the Scribes are practically extinct at this point.. but I’m trying to do what I can.” None of that was a lie, as long as she didn’t care that he never answered her question. “Do you.. want to see what the inside looks like?”

Morgan listened thoughtfully. Rio hadn’t said he was okay, he hadn’t even bothered with saying he was fine. That was saying a lot, but Morgan couldn’t bring herself to push. The kid had groceries shoved into his backpack and this was his idea of a good time. Morgan remembered wanting to escape the dingier apartments they’d lived in. Most of those escapes had been to other, nicer houses. But sometimes it was the public library, or a coffee shop where self-assured looking students and yuppies worked away. She wouldn’t have been able to put her finger on the exact source of her pain then, as things stood, she wasn’t certain there was much good in nudging Rio to do any different. “Your family must be really proud of how well you’re doing then,” she said gently. “And I would love to see inside! My little tracker tells me it’s in there somewhere anyways. It might be scribe related. It’s not an insult to the scribe gods for me to take it home once I find it, is it?” she asked.

Against his better judgement, Orion actually laughed when Morgan claimed that his family must be proud of him. It was mostly instinct, something that he never planned on doing in front of others. For his own safety and the safety of others, Orion needed to keep people thinking that their family was put together. Orion knew how dangerous they were and was a little afraid to find out just how much more dangerous they would get if put in a tight spot. “My sister’s the one they should be proud of. Popular, athletic, Pre-med student. She’s the whole package.” Orion wasn’t lying, but he hoped that he had framed it in a way that had made it sound less parents are psychotic creeps and more I’m the failure child. “I mean, Athena has always been an overachiever.” Orion welcomed the chance to head towards the Scribe headquarters, hoping that the inside would help move the subject off of himself. He never quite knew what to say. “Uh no Scribe gods but just one kid that would really like the text back when you’re done with it.” He laughed nervously, scratching at the back of his neck, “What is it that you are looking for anyways?”

Morgan watched Rio sidelong as he spoke. She didn’t give as much thought to her students as she did when she was first starting out. It was almost awful sometimes, seeing them stress over the prelims, and the club drama, the relationship drama. And what was the point in reaching out when she could barely manage herself, or when they were out the door in four months? But her other students didn’t carry magic in their pockets, and they weren’t so caught between being eager and being invisible as Rio either. It hurt to recognize, like looking at an ugly high school picture. “You’re a person, Rio, you’re not a package,” she said gently. “And people should be proud of you.” But, that was not what they were here for. It would be easier, better, even safer for both of them to leave it at that. Morgan couldn’t hit an undo button on the ties she’d made thus far, but she could take greater care not to pick up many more if she could help it. She cleared her throat, happily taking the change of subject. “A journal. There’s a specific time frame I’m looking for, around 1885. I have a hunch there was something big that happened in town then. Something that was hopefully worth writing about. And what are you studying tonight?”

Without knowing much to say, Orion just shrugged his shoulders and muttered, “Uh thanks. I appreciate it.” He never really handled praise well. It wasn’t that he never received it. He knew how smart he had been in school. Teachers and staff were constantly singing his praise, trying to get him to open up. But it was more that he had a hard time believing anybody when they spoke them. Everything seemed to have an underlying meaning to it. Orion was quick thinking but lacked the discipline and courage to do his birthright. Orion was incredibly intelligent but isn’t good at making friends. Orion was a good kid but they couldn’t help but think he was a little too reserved for his own good. Orion was always waiting for the but. A compliment rarely came without it. “There’s a whole section on White Crest specific events.” Orion began, remembering the corner of the library that he had labelled. “It’s uh… extensive.” He pushed open the main doors into the building. A large opening stood in front of them and Orion began leading the two into it and down a hallway. “I- uh don’t study anything specific per say.” It was hard to explain what he was doing, mostly because he was embarrassed to admit it. Once he said it aloud he was setting himself up for failure. “But I like to read up on whatever peaks my interest once I get inside.” He talked as he lead them through the building. They made their way down a long hallway with winding turns. They passed by the door that lead into the sleeping area for the Scribes that Orion had hoarded his stuff into. Finally, at the end of the hallway was the door that lead into the library. “So, the place is pretty old. But uh- still impressive.” He smiled shyly and pushed the door open so his Professor could see the library. 

If the dust and the mildew hadn’t risen up to sting her senses, Morgan might have thought it was some kind of illusion. The books--admittedly ratty, aging books--filled more space than her eyes could take in at once. The wood on the shelves (real wood) bowed from the weight of cradling them all for so long. And there were shelves beyond them, cozy with dark. Morgan couldn’t stop herself from gaping openly. “This place is amazing,” she said. The amulet in her hand seemed to think so too, it was starting to burn. “Wanna see how well this thing works?” She asked, just before scurrying off in the direction that was hottest. “What happened to everything here, by the way?”

Orion felt an odd sense of pride when Morgan complimented the library. Though he had nothing to do with the structure when it was build or while it was active, Orion felt a sort of obligation or responsibility for the place now. As far as he could tell, he had been the first one in the building in what must have been a long, long time. For better or worse, Orion had taken over ownership of the place. For the time being at least. “Uh, yeah. It’s pretty cool.” He laughed nervously, following behind Morgan as she began down the aisles. “The Scribes haven’t been active since the 80’s. I guess… this place has mostly been abandoned since then. I just started coming a few months ago.” He decided against detailing the entire history. They were on a mission after all. “So what important historical event from White Crest’s history are you searching for?” He asked, curious. “I- uh know a decent bit about the town’s history.” He coughed nervously, trying to not sound cocky or arrogant. 

“I guess the 80’s were a bad time for everyone,” Morgan said darkly. “But what was it? An attack? Some magic self-destruction? Someone has to still be alive who remembers, right?” She continued to walk, moving faster and turning down shelves and back again as the amulet cooled in her hand (nope, colder). At last, the amulet burned hot enough that Morgan dropped it on the ground to save her skin and she began pulling out different volumes and flipping through the margins for dates. “Oh, and uh, that’s the thing, you know? I’m not sure. But probably something--weird? A big fire, maybe. Or some improbable death, I don’t know how many weird ways there were for people to die back then. Or maybe some freak, isolated natural disaster, like a flood where only one house gets destroyed, or a tornado that only kills one person,” Her voice took a bitter turn as she spoke. It might have been funny if it hadn’t happened to her life. “I’m just positive there was something,” she added more gently, flashing Rio a smile. There had to be, or why else would Agnes have packed up and moved to Texas, as far away from the world she knew as she could probably afford? 

“It had good music at least” Orion shrugged, not wanting to make light of whatever Morgan had meant when she said that the 80’s were a bad time for everyone. “It was more.. gradual than that I think.” Orion followed Morgan down the aisles as he thought on the downfall of the Scribes. His uncle had told him about it on multiple occasions. Sometimes while he mourned the career path he so desperately wanted but would never be able to explore. Sometimes while he was drunk, theorizing how it could have been fixed. Regardless, the roots had always stayed the same. “I think they became too big for their own good.” He began explaining, halting to a stop when Morgan froze in her tracks and spun to move back down the aisle they had come from. Clearly her magic tracking amulet was doing something to tell her which direction to move in. “The Scribes had a pretty strict set of rules. The large it got the harder it must have been to enforce. Eventually headquarters stopped staying in touch with each other. A couple even ended up getting burnt down. Now… well this is what remained.” Morgan stopped and was now searching through the shelves for something. For not knowing what she was looking for, she sure seemed to be looking for something specific. “Most deaths were caused by disease back in the 1800’s. Tuberculosis and Dysentery because the most common.” He wasn’t sure how he could help, but he grabbed a text from the shelf and began flipping through it, looking for anything around the 1880’s or 1890’s. “I uh.. don’t want to ruin the mood, but weird freak accidents and natural disasters are uh pretty common in this town. There’s a reason why they used to call it Wicked’s Rest.”

Morgan shrugged. “So was AIDS, until it wasn’t,” she said. “But that’s sad, too, about the Scribes. But policing knowledge is always a slippery slope. Every situation is different, what helps one person today hurts another one tomorrow. You can’t make choices for people you don’t know.” She was thinking more out loud now than anything else, too caught up in finding the right volume. The amulet was too hot to touch now, but she seemed to be getting on the right track reaching upwards. She paused and looked at Rio, smiling at him sheepishly, “Sorry, um--you don’t suppose you could reach up and grab me that one up there, do you?” Even cursed and half miserable, Morgan’s size never failed to show up and make things harder. “And I’ve noticed, but I have particular people in mind. It’s research for this new literary-historical project I’m starting.” That was a thing real scholars did, right?

“It was… hard to explain.” Orion thought on the teachings that his uncle at taught him. He wanted to phrase them correctly, to come from someone who knew the Scribes when they were still active. “The thing about scribes was that they didn’t make choices. Their whole philosophy was to observe and record. They never got involved, never made any decisions to our against anything. They were supposed to remain completely unbiased, stay out of things, and document history.”  The Scribe’s principles sounded good on paper but couldn’t be translated into reality. It was impossible to ask someone to be completely unbiased about something. “Uh yeah sure” Rio stretched up and grabbed onto the text, handing it over to Professor Beck. “That sounds fun!” Orion was always looking for excuses to get out of the house, and a literary historical project, however vague that sounded, seemed right up his alley. “Not sure if there’s anything I can do to help out, but I’d love to get involved. What particular people?”

Oh, dear. Morgan should have seen this coming. She had, sort of, in a too-distant-to-worry way, but now Rio’s awkwardness and eagerness was looking her in the face and Earth and Stars she was not about to get a student mixed up in her mess. How was that going to go anyways? Yeah, sure, automatic A if you get maimed or traumatized in the process of this independent credit! But how much could she really lie about? She needed this information. The more curse activity she could chart, the better chance she might have of learning where it started, maybe even without the need for exorcists or haunted houses. And that was a very tempting prospect. “Oh, it’s not that interesting,” Morgan scoffed. “You know the Bachman house, on the Bend? That family. They just have a sordid history that--” How was she going to connect this with something? Was there even a subject they’d covered in class so far that Rio hadn’t been excited about? “--that might coincide with some narratological developments in the region. Other places in the region. And other people’s lives.” Definitely not hers, nope. “Anyway, I think this is actually my magic book, figuratively speaking, so I should probably--leave you to it.”

Orion followed along with the professor’s explanation. The last thing he wanted to do was insert himself into a study that Professor Beck was beginning without invitation. Maybe she planned on working on this by herself or maybe she had already chosen some students to work with. As long as one of those students wasn’t Athena, Orion would be fine. The last thing he needed was another thing for Athena to dangle over his head and taunt him with. She already had enough ammo against him. “Well that sounds super interesting! If you ever need any help, I’d be happy to lend a hand.” It was strange, Orion had been mortified when he first saw Professor Beck outside of the Scribe headquarters, and now he was almost sad to see her leave. Though he hadn’t realized it, Orion enjoyed having someone to share the space with. Especially someone that enjoyed learning like he did. It made the massive place seem marginally less lonely. “Oh yeah, of course. Well I’m glad you found something. I hope it’s what you’re looking for.”

Morgan edged back the way she’d come, dispelling her amulet and packing it into her bag, but her nerves felt twisted with guilt. This was an awfully strange place to be alone. It was a magical place in every sense of the word, but it was a lot of space for just one boy alone. It would have taken her a lot longer to find this place without him. He was owed something. She stopped, sighing, “Rio--” What did she even have to offer this kid? “I don’t know how much this place means to you or what’s going on, but if you wanted to come by my office to look over one of these old tomes together, or to talk about something your other instructors might not understand, you can, okay? And uh, I know I never said what I am, but I’m assuming it’s obvious at this point.” She gently floated one of the books near his head for emphasis.

The pity eyes. Orion did not hate them, didn’t even really mind them at this point. To him, they were just an ever-present gaze fixed on him. Surprising, that nobody knew the truth about his family and yet they still pitied the pathetic kid. It didn’t take much to realize who the black sheep of the family was. Orion was just the awkward twin brother, forever living in his sister’s shadow and making the adults around him feel bad for him. Professor Beck was trying, and Orion appreciated that. This place meant more to him than anybody could know. It functioned more than just a big library or connection to his Uncle. It had become a haven. “That would be great. It would be nice to get some other perspective.” Orion smiled, flinching back when he noticed the book floating around his head. “Woah.” He said, recovering quickly and smiling brightly. He reached his hand out gingerly, wrapping his fingers around the spine of the floating book and pulling it ever so gently closer to him. “That’s- incredible.” The magic amulet had been the first example, but the floating book helped solidify the theory. Professor Beck was a witch. “It would be really nice to have someone to talk to about this stuff.”

Morgan gave Rio a warm smile. “I’m trusting you a lot with that demonstration, okay? It means you have to stay the kind of guy who wouldn’t nark on someone just for being a witch, and help his teacher without asking any questions. And, hey, maybe by the time you come by, I’ll have some kind of amazing update on this research front! So now you have to, just to find out, right?”

Orion had to admit that he was pretty honored to learn about Professor Beck’s secret. “Your secret is safe with me. Trust me, I’m great with secrets.” A little too good apparently. His life had devolved into a spiral of too many secrets that he had no way of digging himself out of or escaping. Eventually, his own secrets would be too much for himself and he’d end up drowning in them. But he could keep somebody else’s secret. “Uh- let me know if you need anything else. Like I said, I’m happy to help.” He smiled, a genuine one. “I can walk you back out. The hallways can get a little confusing.”

@mor-beck-more-problems