Witch Bewitched (New)

Chapter 56

Five days.

Misa etched a line across four others in the blank space of her sketchbook. It had been five days since Colvin Watcher had been impaled by the bull. Five days since Taketh Weatherbay had been crushed by the carriage. Five days since Leira had been taken away. And each day wasted was another brick of guilt that Misa couldn't do more to find her friend and get her to safety.

With a sigh, Misa flicked through her sketchbook, mulling over the drab, gray colors that gave life to the images she'd imprinted on the pages. She paused when she reached of the last sketches she had finished and felt her heart clench.

They never did finish Arthran's Plight.

Misa tossed her sketchbook on her bed and leaned against the soft mattress suspended on the wooden frame. She drew her knees to her chest, her body too heavy to get up and get ready for the day at the purgehouse.

She contemplated her encounter with Rithian from the night before. Her anger had snapped from its strained leash, and though Misa felt better after lashing out at the witch, the clarity of the next morning had made the implications of what she said weigh heavier than all the shackles that had been chained to her.

What had she done? She knew Rithian would do anything to break her, to make her nothing but a bearer of magic. Rithian wanted Tika's magic to define Misa, as if that would somehow replace the deceased witch, and Misa had stoked the fire that branded the idea into Rithian's head. She mentally kicked herself. Torren and Royle were right. She didn't have a filter when she lost her temper.

A soft knock brought Misa out of her reverie. She raised her head and answered with a soft, "Come in."

Torren slipped into her room. "You'll be late if you don't hurry up. Commander Vortham was nice enough to let you stay with me, but he's going to put you in the purgehouse if you're not going to be able to make it to training in time."

Misa smiled, hiding the exhaustion in her eyes. Rithian had done a number on her magic, and Misa could practically feel it wobbling inside her like it had been hit in the head. At the very least, it meant it wouldn't be strong enough for another outburst.

"Yeah, yeah, you nag. I'm coming."

Torren grinned. "Keep that up, and I'll wake you up an hour early tomorrow."

"I'll murder you in your sleep if you do. Now get out. I need to change." Misa shooed him away with a playful glare.

"I could help." Torren waggled his brows, and Misa threw her pillow at him. Barking a laugh, Torren shut the door before it could hit him.

"Stay out of my room!" Misa yelled after him with annoyance lacing her voice. Still, she couldn't help but smile to herself. Torren always managed to make her feel better with his silly antics. It was a strange talent he possessed.

Regaining a little bit of her energy, Misa managed to get ready and arrive at the purgehouse in time for training. Though it was similar to the training in Giligha, there was something tougher about being a cadet in Harthem. Something Misa couldn't exactly put her finger on.

Whatever the case, it had her leaving much more exhausted than before, and Misa lost all motivation to go for her second training of the day. Her nightly sessions still happened at the same time as usual, about an hour before midnight, the cover of darkness the perfect setting for practicing forbidden arts in secret.

Misa met Rithian at their usual hidden room, this time without Min-Min accompanying her, though the cat did greet Misa outside her temporary home. Rithian continued the brutal training, drawing out the unstable magic in Misa until what little was left was enough for Misa to control.

She still couldn't cloak it at the end of the night, and Misa had left with a swollen cheek after questioning if Rithian was teaching her right. She made sure to sneak by Torren, brushing him off with the excuse that she was exhausted. Which was still true. Magic training had her energy spent, and she barely had enough to function when she woke up.

The next night didn't fare much better, though Misa did catch her magic for a second before being unable to keep it from drawing into Rithian's larger pool. It was at the end of this lesson that Misa brought up the weekly witch meets.

"Ah, so you've heard of our weekly gathering?" Rithian said, a small, almost gentle smile on her face. "Yes, that's right. You live in Harthem now, and by Fariki's Ordain, all witches residing in the city must attend the gathering."

"When is it?" Misa dared to ask.

"Every Daisees night." Rithian pondered over the situation. "Plenty of time to prepare for a welcome. But first, you must learn to cloak."

Misa glared at Rithian, but the witch seemed to find it more amusing than anything else.

"Letting your magic free during a gathering is an offense," Rithian explained. "If you do not learn to cloak your magic, you will be seen as challenging the head of the ordain."

Misa counted the nights she had to master cloaking. Daisees, the sixth day of the week, was five days away. Five more days to master her control.

With gritted teeth, Misa said, "Fine. I'll learn to cloak. I'll do it by the end of the week."

Rithian snorted. "Of course, you will. I won't have my student be so unskilled. Prepare yourself, Misa Carpenter. I will make sure you learn everything."

Misa didn't reply. She had learned to accept Rithian's words as they came. She had learned to block them out and protect herself from their barrage. And it was enough to let her know she was winning.

* * * *

"Misa? What in the world are you doing?" Torren leaned out the window, poking the top of Misa's head.

Misa slapped his hand away, not in the mood for his teasing. "I'm trying something. Leave me be."

"Why are you killing the flowers?"

Misa didn't stop smashing the flowers beneath her hands, watching them snap and wither away. They drooped, petals limp, stems unable to hold them up.

"Misa."

"Just one minute, Torren," Misa snapped. "Just give me one minute of silence. Please."

Thankfully, Torren shut his mouth after that. His presence remained however, as he hovered over Misa, watching her hands crush the beautiful, colorful flowers.

Then, when a good portion of the flowerbed was destroyed, Misa dug her fingers into the dirt. Tika's magic had returned and was somewhat unstable. It was perfect to test a theory Misa had. Too much power and Misa would have walked away in fear of losing control.

She closed her eyes, bringing up a memory from one of her dreams. Crouching in front of a field full of flowers, feeding the magic into the earth.

Return the magic to nature. Misa inhaled deeply and held her breath. She focused on the wandering magic within her, paving a path for it to flow. It took a moment for it to understand, but once Misa tugged it towards her fingertips, it created a steady current.

Misa focused on the power flowing through her veins, running from her gut, down her arms until it finally dipped into the earth. A sharp gasp from above told Misa everything she needed to know.

Sweat sheened her forehead. Misa let Tika's magic leave her for a little bit more before she pulled her hand back and cut the flow. She paused, waiting for it to settle back into its tight ball. Then, she finally took in what she had done.

The flowers she'd crushed stood tall and proud, blooming wide open for the sun. The grass below was greener than the vegetation outside the perimeter of what Misa had chosen for her experiment. A smile tugged at the corner of Misa's lips.

So, it worked.

"Misa," Torren breathed. "How?"

Misa stood, clapping the dirt off her hands. This confirmed it. Her dreams weren't dreams at all. They were memories. Memories brought about because Tika's magic now lived inside Misa. The magic was speaking to her, showing her how it had come to be.

Maybe she wouldn't need Rithian, after all. If she could somehow tap into the memories and learn everything she needed to know to control it, she wouldn't need to suffer under Rithian anymore.

With a slight sigh, Misa gazed up at the sky, shadowing her eyes under a hand. It was still a deep hue of blue, brilliantly clear with a white ball pressing down onto the earth. Training had been shorter than usual, thanks to the news that the lieutenant's son had been birthed. There was something heartwarming about the excitement twinkling in such a hardened man, and Misa could not help but think of Royle.

"It's a wonderful time for a nap," Misa said, loud enough for Torren to hear.

"Misa, are you okay? You've been...different since that day."

That day. Misa turned to bore her gaze into Torren. The shock, the fear, the helplessness. Misa had clamped down on them, let them coil around her and punish her for how useless she was in the face of danger. Even when she had the ability to do something, even when all she had to do was simply speak up, she had failed to save three people.

Different would be an understatement. Misa hadn't felt like herself since she'd first learned magic from Rithian, and that moment, that terrifying, shameful descent into a selfish girl fleeing to save herself had nailed every insult the witch spouted right back into Misa's head.

So, yes. Misa was different. She could never be the same again. Not after watching a man die so violently before her eyes. A man she could have saved. And she wasn't going to repeat her mistake. She was going to learn magic. She was going to do it because there was still someone who needed her.

"When we get Leira back," Misa said, letting her expression soften, "I'm going to take her to a field full of flowers."

Torren gave her a small, sad smile. "I think she'll like that very much."

It was something Misa could clutch on to, to lead her back into the house and lay on her bed. To give her the strength, the courage she needed to face what she feared the most about herself.

So, Misa closed her eyes and let her mind drift off to sleep, where the memories of the past spoke to her of magic and witches, and her search for answers began.