Apprentices: Waxing Crescent

The Best Worst Detention Ever

That evening, I am so excited to be heading to the Warrior Headquarters, that I find myself there fifteen minutes before seven. If a month ago someone told me I’ll be so excited about attention, I would laugh my ass off. But now? Well, here I am.

I wait a couple of minutes longer, then take a deep breath. Here goes nothing. It’s almost surreal, watching my hand rise towards the door in the form of a fist and knock on it. Even the sound of knocking on the wood sounds strange to my own ears.

In a nanosecond, the door swings open with such force, that I barely have the time to jump away. A rough looking witch raises her thinly plucked eyebrows at me, clearly not having a clue what I’m doing here. “Can I help you?” she asks slowly, while chewing on a gum. I can smell a hint of peppermint coming out of her mouth.

“I’m here for my detention,” I explain, maybe a little too excitedly, because her eyebrows now disappear into her fringe. She looks quite cool, actually. Her hair is cherry red and black, quite in contrast with her blue eyes. Her ears are filled with earrings. And she has one of those nose piercings that I like so much. I think it’s called the septum piercing. Ugh, I want one. Right now.

“Okay? I think you’re a little lost. Students don’t come in here,” she continues, seeming even more confused than before. My face sours. I can’t believe this.

“I was here today with Mrs. Fritz. One of your colleagues opened the door and she told him I’ll be coming here every evening for two weeks, because I literally have nowhere else to serve detention. If he didn’t write that down and get the message to you, that’s not my problem,” I stand up for myself. What is she doing here if I can’t get in? She doesn’t look even a day older than me.

In the next moment, the girl’s lips pull into a cocky smile, and she laughs into my face. “Jeez, lighten up grandma, I’m just messing with you,” she tells me, pushing the door further away to reveal the space inside. “Come on in,” she then invites me, but I’ve already stopped listening to her.

Honestly, if I wasn’t so in awe to be stepping into the Warrior Headquarters, I would probably give the chick a piece of my mind. But with this view? I couldn’t care less if she called me a vanilla b***h.

In the times that I tried to imagine how this place looks like, I never even came close to how good it actually is. The ceiling is twice the usual height, giving enough space for everything that the warrior witches need for work. But that’s not what leaves me speechless. It’s the gigantic clock, enchanted into the ceiling that is showing all sorts of data besides the time. Data I don’t recognize.

There are desks with the latest high tech, a gym the size of a tennis field with all the necessary equipment for martial arts, a room protected with enchantments, for practicing aggressive magic … And they even have a kitchen and a dining space. With their own freaking chef.

“You’re the fledgling?” I hear someone ask, waking me up from my trance. I turn to the man without even blinking, then frown as my brain processes what he just asked me. Offensive.

“No,” I tell him sharply, making him raise his eyebrows in confusion. I can tell he already means to argue with me when I take my time to correct him ever so kindly. “I’m the apprentice.”

His face relaxes and he shakes his head in disbelief. “What a huge difference,” he grunts into his beard, motioning with his head into a random direction. “Follow me.” Before I’m able to respond, he already turns around and leaves, giving me no other choice but to follow him.

Just to be clear, witches have different names for each grade of high school. It’s when we start properly practicing our magic, not just play around with it like in middle school. A fledgling is a ninth grader. The following year you become a greenhorn, then a novice and in your last year, you’re an apprentice.

There is a special ritual that we have to go through to earn each title. So yes, of course I’m offended that I got mistaken for a ninth grader. I hate it when people keep seeing me as a kid. I’ll be turning eighteen in a matter of months. It’s not like I’ll suddenly become an adult on that day.

“Here’s your desk,” the man suddenly says, and I stop to look at the said desk. And the pile of papers on it. “They’re autopsy reports. You’ll be sorting these files into five different sections. Soulthieves attack, Magic gone wrong, Murder, Natural death and Unknown cause of death.”

I shoot him a dark look. “And how am I supposed to determine what goes into each category?” I want to know, my excitement about working in the Warrior Headquarters suddenly fading. He pulls a corner of his mouth up, shrugging in amusement.

“Be creative. If you have questions, just yell Travis,” he tells me, before leaving me alone with the monstrous gigantic pile of paperwork. “That’s my name, by the way!” he yells over his shoulder. I send a deathly glare at his back, before sitting down and letting out a big sigh. Just one way to get this over with, Evelyn.

Ten minutes in, my eyes are already burning, and my hands are so dry, that I can barely grab a single sheet of paper anymore. And here I was, thinking Mrs. Fritz was signing me up for some cool detention.

I glance around, noticing how focused the warrior witches are. I mean, they’re doing boring paperwork and still give off the vibe that this is the most important task in the world. Some of them even seem to be in an awfully good mood, especially Travis and the girl that opened the door for me. They must have a thing going on. I can read it on their faces.

I turn back to my work, letting out a heavy sigh. So far, I’ve sorted about fifteen unlucky fellows, most of them fell into the Soulthieves attack category. Suddenly, a bright idea crosses my mind. I open the file on the top of the category, checking the date of death. Yesterday.

I check the next one, then another one, until I get through all of them. Only then I realize what I’m looking at. These are all warrior witches that died in Cincinnati yesterday. I can’t believe it. Maybe there’s something written here, that says how it happened.

After a while, I find myself leaning back on my seat in disappointment. No details. Not even in the rest of the files that match with yesterday’s date. They all share the same brief description, victim of a soulthief. I know that. I want to know why.

My gaze travels around the Headquarters again, now knowing why everyone apart from Travis and the girl look so serious. It’s not because paperwork is their most important job in the world. No. It’s their way of dealing with the massive loss they experienced yesterday. They have to occupy their brain, so they don’t think about their dead colleagues. Maybe even friends.

Deciding, that my little quest is pointless, I turn back around, focusing on getting through the rest of the pile. I have a feeling that Travis won’t let me go after two hours, if I don’t sort all of the files.

I know I won’t find what happened in Cincinnati through them. And I sure won’t make it any easier for the warriors if I go asking around. No. I’ll uncover the truth on my own terms. When they won’t be keeping such a close eye on me any longer. After all, I have two weeks to find the reason behind the mass murdering of our protectors.

I finish the paperwork twenty minutes earlier than I am supposed to leave the Headquarters, making Travis frown as I bring him everything, sorted into categories. He takes his sweet time to check everything through, almost making me tap my foot against the ground impatiently. But I don’t give him that satisfaction.

When he finishes, he looks up at me from under his eyebrows, saying: “You still have ten minutes to spend here. I can’t let you go before nine sharp.” I already mean to defy him when I get another bright idea.

“That’s fine. I’ll just try out the gym,” I say, flashing a wide grin at his face. He seems unimpressed, shaking his head at me.

“Is that supposed to convince me to let a schoolgirl touch our special equipment?” he remarks grumpily. This time I can’t suppress an eyeroll. He had it coming since the moment he first talked to me.

“Yes,” I respond shortly, hearing someone let out a short laugh behind me. I turn to look over my shoulder, only to see that girl, who opened the door for me.

“It was a rhetorical question. And France, that’s not funny. I’m being serious,” Travis keeps talking, making me turn back around with a sigh, before furrowing my eyebrows in confusion. I pin my gaze on the girl, who seems amused by my reaction.

“Your name is France? As in, the country?” I blurt out, unable to keep the words for myself. Talk about weird. She waves her hand at me dismissively.

“Nah, I’m Francesca, but everyone calls me France,” she explains, taking an apple from Travis’s desk and biting in it with a loud, crunchy sound. He doesn’t seem to mind it though, which only significates that I was right. They have a thing going on. “Come now,” she says as she swallows, making me perk up in excitement.

“To the gym?” I ask in excitement. I really need to see that, so I can brag to everyone that I’ve been to the Headquarters. And played with their equipment.

She scoffs, putting the half-eaten apple back on Travis’s desk, which makes him scrunch his face in disgust. Okay, maybe there’s no thing there after all. Or he’s just grossed out. “You’re getting a proper tour. And Travis here won’t mind that,” she answers, sending a wink his way, before causally swinging her arm around my shoulders and leading me towards the gym.

I’m surprised that he doesn’t even squeal behind us. And that our France here is so comfortable around me. Well, perhaps it’s a good thing to have someone on my side, so I’m not complaining. As long as her intentions aren’t going beyond just friendly. I don’t play for that team.

“Listen, I’ll be really quick, because you clearly have to leave soon,” she starts saying as she lets go of me. “But be good in the next few days, do whatever s**t they make you do, and maybe next week, I can train you instead of you doing useless paperwork.” I press my lips together. I knew I was doing pointless s**t.

“You would really do that? Why?” I ask, surprised that she’s so considerate. There must be a hidden meaning somewhere in this. She needs me for something, I’m sure of it. But what could an apprentice do for a freaking warrior witch?

She smiles, shrugging in response. “You remind me of myself when I was your age. I always wanted to be mentored by a warrior witch, figured it would be easier for me to actually become one. Never got the chance, though. It was a hard way for me to get to where I am. And I’ve heard things about you. They say you’re talented and fierce. But a big troublemaker and surely not a quiet one,” she reveals, making a smirk plaster itself on my face. So that’s what they’re saying about me around the school, huh? I couldn’t be prouder.

“Thanks, France. I won’t forget that,” I tell her, meaning every word sincerely. She mirrors my face expression, before her eyes suddenly flicker to the big clock, circling on top of the ceiling.

“Whoops, time for you to go, if you want to get some sleep,” she remarks, then offers to escort me to the door. But I tell her it’s no trouble and find my own way. There’s not a chance that I’m going to sleep now. It’s been too long since I visited Jake. And I’m feeling extra horny tonight.