Thomelisa Witch Magic

I spent some time today hammering out how the witch magic works in this world- here's what I came up with (again, using this for NaNo, so zero editing- woo!):

Witches need life-force to power their spells, either their own, or that of others.  The spells don’t necessarily kill the source of power, but the more energy you take, the stronger the spell, so the most powerful witches are the ones with no compunction about killing.  The larger the animal, the more life-force, so a hare charges more than a mouse, and a human charges a hell of a lot more than a hare.  For this reason witches aren’t particularly interested in using babies or children for their magic: they can get the same amount of power with a lot less hassle, from a sheep or goat.  They can also take life force from plants, but trees have their own magic, and trying to take from them without permission rarely ends well for the witch in question.

Spells must be prepared (and charged) ahead of time.  There must be a vessel for the spell, be it something as simple as a piece of paper, or something as complex as a cuckoo clock.  The shape of the vessel interacts with the intention of the spell, so it makes more sense to try to align the two.  You can put a cutting spell in a rock and it will work (if you’re powerful enough), but it will work a hell of a lot better if you put it in a knife.

You can use a living thing to hold a spell, as well, but it’s tricky and runs the chance of being accidently activated by the vessel itself.

Spells can be transferred from one vessel to another- if you have the proper spell to do so.  Vessels can theoretically hold more than one spell, but it takes a powerful, careful witch to make that work.  Most don’t bother, because errors tend to be fatal.  Witches with exceptional control can spell different parts of the same vessel- for example, each corner of a dice might hold a different spell.  That’s some seriously advanced stuff, tho’.

Generally speaking, spells are one-and-done, so once you use the vessel, they’re drained and are left a nearly-ordinary object.  I say nearly-ordinary because they remember that they were spelled, and it is easier to spell them again in the future- especially if you use the same spell.  For this reason witches are reluctant to leave their vessels behind- but they will if forced.  Some witches make it a habit to hunt down and collect the forgotten remnants of other witches, a hobby that is made easier by the fact that once-spelled artifacts have a particular ghost-glow to those actively seeking them, almost as though they want to be found and put back to work once more.

Nothin' to Learn Here

Yeah, I'm she.  And no, I ain't got nothin' to say to you, city boy.  I'm just an old lady who's earned the right to be left alone.  I pay my taxes to the Prince.  I say my prayers in the Good God's temple and don't do nothin' against His Word.  And I ain't got anything you're lookin' for.

Is that so?  You arrogant tad.  You come around here, askin' your questions, ferreting out them as should be left alone.  You say you ain't lookin' to make no trouble, just gather knowledge, for the greater good like.  To write it down in your precious book, so that more like you can use it to heal.  All men, of course.

Welcomed at your school, you say?  Boy you are stupider than I thought, if you don't realize that it just ain't prudent to be a woman-healer, in this so-modern day and age.  Not wise.  Far better to leave it to you men, who have nothing to aid you but your textbooks and whatever sense the Good God might have given you.  Because even if that's all a woman-healer has, there's always the chance that she might have more, ain't there?  And unless she can prove she don't have that corrupt more, well now- she and all her kin are gonna' burn, sure as the sky is blue.

I shouldn't have to tell you it's damn-near impossible to prove a negative, little scholar.

Oh really?  Well that's dangerous-close to blasphemy, boy.  You think I'm an ally, but you'd best watch your mouth.  I ain't allied to anyone but myself and my kin, and things you're permitted to say, I ain't even permitted to dream of, let alone hear.  So shut your over-educated mouth and listen, because you're right- a thousand years of tradition can't be stamped out over night, nor even over the two centuries since the Good King came to power.  But new traditions spring up, don't they?  Traditions that are meant to keep folk alive.  So you shut up and you respect our traditions or by all that's holy, boy, I'll remove the threat you pose to my daughters' daughters.  Ain't nobody out here but me and you, which means ain't nobody around to see me defend myself and my property.  And if I hang for it, so be it- but my line will go on, safe from the reckless questions of arrogant bloodhound puppies.

Intervention (Hallowshade)

Nadia's text is mysterious- much like my best friend herself, since she became a teenage vampire four years ago:

Meet me at the Falcon- come alone

The Gilded Falcon is the only cool bar in our small northeastern town.  Sometimes I think it's the only bar in town, since it's the only one where anything seems to happen.  It's been exploded and rebuilt a time or two (or is it three?  It's been an eventful half decade, hard to keep track), but each time it seems to come back exactly the same.  Just like us.

Anyway, none of the bouncers there check our IDs anymore, so even tho' technically we're all seventeen or eighteen for the rest of eternity, we spend a reasonable amount of time at Falcon's, drinking things other than blood.  Well, except for Freja, who was spelled to violently reject anything but the blood of virgins a few months back.  We're still working on a cure for that, primarily because virgins are a rapidly dwindling commodity ever since Cyrus came into (as it were) his incubus heritage.

The Falcon looks closed as I approach (it keeps super-weird hours that oddly seem to coincide with when we need privacy), but I don't trust the quiet.  I stop across the street and glance around for anyone hiding in the shadows: nothing.  Then I concentrate for a moment on my hearing, listening for anything out of the ordinary.  Little bumps and scrapes coming from inside the bar indicate the presence of more than just Nadia.  I listen harder, but the problem with being super-powered immortal beings is that we've gotten in the habit of speaking very softly just in case someone with super-powered-hearing is listening.  I can hear at least two voices, but can't make out what they're saying.  Two more-or-less human heartbeats, tho', which is surprising: that means that, in addition to Nadia, at least Portia and Emir are in there.

Is it a surprise party? I wonder.  But there's no occasion for a surprise party.  My birthday was at the beginning of summer, and my deathday isn't until Christmas (and yes, it's just as obnoxious to share a deathday with Christmas as it is to share a birthday, even if it did give me a few extra vampire powers).

Eventually I shrug and cross the street.  There's no sound of a struggle, so it's unlikely that whatever's going on means trouble for me.

Oh how wrong I am.

There are nine-  no, wait, eleven.  There are eleven of us now that I've walked through the front door: the core five who started it all, and the six others who have wandered in and out of our lives since the day James and Nadia pledged their eternal love.  Of course, James is with Rei now, but we all get along tolerably well, even tho I haven't seen some of these people in at least three years.

"Hey guys," I say, trying not to feel paranoid.  "What's up?"

"This is an intervention, Ruby," says Nadia, and I can see her luminescent brown eyes are welling up with tears.

"For whom?" I ask, trying not to glance at Cyrus, who is currently nuzzling Emir's neck.  Emir looks vaguely bored, which is not a typical expression for a teenage werewolf.

"For you, Ruby," says Heinrich, placing a protective hand on Nadia's delicate shoulder.  He's capable of brooding even more impressively than his cousin, James, and he turns the full force of that troubled look at me now.  "We're worried about you, Ruby."

"About me?" I grin.  "Why would you be worried about me?  I'm the most drama-free person in this room!"  I mean it as a joke, but... it's actually true.  Really true.  Ten sets of inhumanly beautiful eyes stare back at me, and my smile falters.

"Ruby, you know we love you," says Muriel.  She's the newest in our little group, just pulled into our dimension last year, so I'm not really sure that she's had time to grow to "love" me, but-

"So much," says Nadia.

"So much," Muriel agrees, nodding her white-blonde head earnestly.  "But Ruby, have you ever thought that maybe you just..." she trails off, helpless.

"Maybe you're not good for the group," Hiro says, firmly.  I give him a raised eyebrow.

"I'm not good for the group?  I'm not the one whose weird twin-magic," I cock my head towards his sister Rei, "Had everyone body-hopping for three months.  Or the one who let their demon-turned father," I shift my gaze to James, "Blackmail them- with some stupid shit, quite frankly- into providing all of our blood for dark rituals.  In fact, I'm the one who stopped him-"

"By killing him!" James bursts out, eyes going red with rage-induced blood-lust.  Rei places a restraining hand on his chest, but I'm in no mood to coddle him.

"Hell yes by killing him," I shoot back.  "He killed Lydia!  He killed Dawn!  He killed Aaron and he was going to kill Portia again!  And every time he killed, his demon-self got stronger and more evil!  Of course I killed him!"

"There might have been a way to redeem-"

"There wasn't," I say, flatly.  "Keeping him alive would have lead to more deaths, and you know it."

"Then why did you kill Kate?" asks Freja, coldly.  "She was just a mortal, and hadn't killed anyone at all."

I throw up my hands in exasperation.  "She didn't kill anyone because I snapped her neck before she could.  And the only reason I was able to snap her neck was because she was still mortal which, if you'll recall, she was looking to change within the next month by killing a werewolf vampire hybrid," I glare at Heinrich, "With that damned cursed dagger she had!  I just stopped things from getting beyond our ability to deal with them."

"That's just it!" Nadia bursts out.  "You're always doing that lately!"

"Always saving the day?"  The sarcasm dripping from my voice causes her to flinch, but I'm irritated enough by this ludicrous situation not to care.

"Always stopping things before they get really interesting," Cyrus complains.

"Wait- what?" this draws me up short.

"Yeah," says Emir.  "You killed Kate before she could ascend as Hecate and we all sort of... went home.  End of story."

"And that's bad?" my voice raises an octave with my incredulity.

"Very bad," says Muriel, seriously.  "We're teenage vampires-"

"And incubi."

"And werewolves."

"And hybrids."

"And witches."

"And re-embodied ghosts."

"And dragon spirits."

"And-"

"The point," Muriel says loudly, "Is that we're immortal creatures of the night, and you're too pragmatic."

"You're making it boring," Rei pouts.  "When you figured out that James and I had secretly fallen in love, and that Nadia and Heinrich were actually eternally-bound soul mates, you made us all sit down and talk it out and we had everything resolved within three days.  That's not how epic love stories are supposed to work!"

"And just last week," Cyrus adds, "You smashed the Mirror of Ancients before anyone could get trapped in their past lives."

"...are you fucking kidding me right now?  Did you want to spend a few centuries stuck as a medieval peasant?"

"We just want you to try," pleads Nadia.

"Try what?" I snap.  "Try letting some psycho actually get all the way through their plan to suck Hallowshade into a hell dimension, without interrupting them?"

"You don't have to go that big right away," Portia says quickly.  "Maybe start with something a little smaller.  Like a love-triangle with a normal human couple, and in the end you selflessly leave so they can live out their mortal lives together."

"One," I hold up a finger, "that sounds incredibly pointless for everyone involved. And two," I hold up a second finger, "there are barely any normal humans left in this town, anyway.  Pretty much everyone has some sort of mystical connection going on."

"They could be outsiders?" Hiro said, helpfully.

"Still dumb," I snarl.

"Okay, okay, no love triangles," says Portia.  "What about-"

Cyrus suddenly brightens.  "What about a mystical preg-"

"If you finish that sentence, Cyrus, I will rip your fucking tongue out."  I mean this quite literally, and I'm certain he realizes it, because he shuts up.  There's an uncomfortable silence.

"Look, Ruby," Heinrich says at last, drawing himself up to his full, impressive height.  "If you're not willing to change, then we can't be a party to your actions any longer."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means," Nadia's tears have spilled over and are running down her perfectly sculpted cheekbones, gleaming silver in the bar lights.  "It means we can't... we can't..."

"We can't be friends with you any longer," says Freja, voice gone from cold to glacial.

"Yeah, I got that part," I say, rolling my eyes.  "But what does it mean?  Are you just going to give me the eternal silent treatment?  Or are we going to be, like, mortal enemies now?  Should I be looking over my shoulder for alternating assassination/reconciliation attempts?"

No one answers me- in fact they're all avoiding eye contact.  I heave a giant sigh, because I know how this has to go.  Have seen it coming for a while, if I'm being brutally honest with myself.

"You know what, never mind," I say.  "If you guys hadn't said anything, I probably would have, myself.  You haven't exactly been subtle with the way you ignore my perfectly straightforward plans in favor of your elaborate schemes.  I'll make this easier on all of us and just take my leave.  Give me a couple days to pack up my shit and forward my mail, and I'll be out of your hair.  I'm sure I can find a nice, non-magical-magnet sort of place to settle down and pass a quiet couple of centuries."

"Ruby-" cries Nadia as I spin on my heel, and her sorrow is exquisite enough to break your heart.  But I know that me leaving like this, all big-gesture-y, will give her more of what she needs than me staying to work things out ever could.  Besides, I'm just so exhausted by all of the convoluted drama, and it's only been five years since vampires came into our lives, and two years since I turned.  The idea of doing this for the rest of eternity makes me want to stake myself, and so I keep going, ignoring James as he mutters,

"Forward her mail?  See, that's exactly why she had to go.  In all my three-hundred years, I've never forwarded my mail.  It's just so mundane..."



***
(In Case You Were Curious)

Ruby- a vampire with "a few extra powers".  Like pragmatism.
Nadia- vampire
Freja- vampire witch
Cyrus- vampire incubus
Portia- re-embodied ghost
Emir- werewolf
James- vampire
Rei- water-dragon spirit
Heinrich- vampire-werewolf hybrid
Muriel- vampire from a hell dimension
Hiro- fire-dragon spirit

Rough Draft from a Dream

Last night's dream I found a powerful magical artifact made of rose quartz (one of two "keys" that had to be combined to actually be used) and was rescued by an elderly witch who told me I'm a witch, too.  She helped me escape the bad witches chasing me for the key, using long-step magic to get us to Scotland.  We turned ourselves into dogs to run better, and I was beginning to turn into an Irish Setter (for my hair) until I realized that's not who I am, and instead turned into a large silver pit bull with powerful jaws (I very specifically thought about my powerful jaws).  We went to her house, where her husband was, and my baby was there with him, his diaper being changed- but her husband gave us a wink and a nod so we knew that the enemies had beat us there, and then they revealed themselves and even though I was in human form I stood over my baby growling and snarling and knowing I would literally crush the throat of anyone who came near him.

(We did escape, and I managed to get the other key, and fit the two of them together.)

And if that's not a damn fine story seed, I don't know what is.  Although I suppose it would be helpful if I'd gotten to find out just what, exactly, the artifacts did... the fact that I thought of them as "keys" implies that they opened or unlocked something... perhaps greater power?  Hmm...

Pests in the Garden, Pt I

I was shaking out the goose down beds in the fresh, clear air when Mother Berchta returned from the village meeting, a sour look on her face.  She glanced over at my progress, grunted (I'd learned a lack of complaint was as good as a compliment, when it came to my mistress) and moved inside to the fire, where I'd set a kettle to warm for her.  Normally Mother Berchta liked a sharp mint for her daytime sipping, but today something had moved my hand to the chamomile, with a scattering of lavender bud.  She poured herself a cup, inhaled deeply, then exhaled lustily.  The lines around her mouth eased a bit, and I smiled to myself.

(I'd been apprenticing long enough to know that when a hand moves on its own, it's generally best to just let it get on with things, and try not to overthink it.)

Mother Berchta brought her cup to the doorway and leaned against the frame.

"Well it's wizards," she said, with the same irritable tone she'd used last week when she'd said, "There's voles in the garden."

"Wizards?"  I gave the snowy white bed in my hands one last snap, then lay it carefully in the grass to bleach in the sun.  "They don't usually come out this far, do they?"

"No," she said.  "They don't.  They’re too busy savin’ the important parts of the galaxy from whatever threat they’ve conjured up."  She rolled her eyes, but did not explain just what had brought the robed ones to our small corner of the world.  I grabbed the final bed and began to shake, knowing she would continue in her own time.

Finally Mother Berchta heaved a put-upon sigh.

"And as if wizards ain’t bad enough, these ones is dark."

"Dark?"  I paused in my fluffing.  Dark wizards might actually be something more than an annoyance.

"Yep," she stood a little straighter, apparently pleased at having caught my full attention.  "Nasty little pests, probably recruiting.  Or else looking for sacrifices no one will notice."

"They'd have done better to stay in civilization, then," I remarked.  "Who notices their neighbors in the big city?  Out here we're all in one another's business."  It was one of the reasons Mother Berchta's cabin was so far removed from the village.

"No one ever said wizards was smart," she shook her head and took another sip.  "Especially not the ones silly enough to go to the dark side."

"Well, what are you going to do about them?"

"Me?  I'm not doing a blessed thing.  Pest control is what I have an apprentice for."  And with that she re-entered the house, shutting the door behind her.