A Class of Conjuring

Chapter 3: Cassandra

"I'll see you tomorrow," I said to Braeden as we stood on my front porch, the morning sun struggling to push above the forest trees to the east. Under his request, we'd spent the night in the forest. He said it would give things a chance to blow over.

Braeden nodded, and we stood there awkwardly for several seconds. It always happened like that when he walked me home. We held hands as friends and talked as friends, but he never came inside despite my invitations. He took his duties seriously and never let anything interfere with his work, especially when it came to training me which he did unofficially. Often, I believed he joined me solely to clean up my messes.

"We should probably go see Guildmaster Ren this afternoon," he said. "To get it over with."

"I was trying to avoid seeing him," I said. "I know I really messed up in Wayfair City. I never mean for these things to happen."

Braeden released my hand. A strange feeling of loss seeped into my mind when he broke our touch. "I'll talk to Guildmaster Ren before we meet him together. I'll speak well of you and your witching abilities. Wayfair was only a minor setback," he lied. It was a major setback. He stepped off the porch and turned back to me, wanting to say something. Deep down I didn't think he ever really wanted to leave.

"Thank you for protecting me, Braeden. And for always being there for me."

He nodded and left me to myself.

I bought the cabin over a year ago from a witch who moved out west. It had everything I needed: fireplace, kitchen with plenty of shelf space for potion ingredients, two bedrooms, a bathroom, and about four acres of land, the backside flanked by the river. I'd done a poor job with the landscaping but, honestly, I was never home long enough to give it the attention it deserved.

Inside my small but quaint house, I removed my shoes and passed by the two bookshelves full of spell books, history of witchery, and a diary I started a few years ago but had not written in for the past six months. Girls my age wrote in their diaries about relationships with lovers, and since I had none, I saw no reason to continue writing about everyday tasks. Sometimes I thought about writing of my adventures with Braeden, but we'd yet to do the things other girls wrote about. Mostly I just drew pictures of things I dreamed of seeing some day. I also used the diary to keep track of new potions and spells.

Next to the shelves of books were two full shelves of potion ingredients I had yet to touch: agarwood, rue, bauhinia, anise, bay leaves and dozens of others. Braeden had promised someday soon he would teach me the proper mixture of ingredients as several of my potions had caused disastrous events. I'd once turned innocent people into animals, and another time spread a fungus through the town surrounding the guild. It took weeks to clean up my mess.

The fireplace held a large cauldron I used for creating potions, though it sat empty for weeks. Braeden's suggestion not mine.

I passed the fireplace and stopped, feeling a presence in the house. I stayed in the shadows and moved my hands together, preparing a sphere of fire.

"Don't bother," a voice from the kitchen called. "I wouldn't want you to destroy your own house."

"Guildmaster Ren?" My heart sank into my toes. The only time I ever saw the guildmaster was at the guild. He was never known to leave without good cause. Bad news traveled fast.