His witch

I created a group for my readers, Love&Magic by Mira Kej, feel free to join :) Marianna's POV Again, I had this strange dream. I was alone in the dark woods and I was afraid. I am afraid of the woods and darkness. What a disgrace. But, to the point. Or the dream. I almost panicked when I felt this overwhelming presence. Something I never felt before. I could not see anybody or tell what I exactly felt, but after I overcame the first impression, the presence happened to be not unpleasant or scary, rather calming and reassuring. Then I heard a long howl, but it didn’t scare me. I should have wanted to run away, but the sound was so appealing and inviting, that I found myself craving to find the source of it. It helped me to overcome my fear of darkness. I ran in the direction where it came from. The presence became more and more material with every step I took. I knew I was so close, only a few steps more to see the being. Suddenly I woke up. I needed a while to realize that I was in my shabby room in the attic. And it was already 7 in the morning, which meant I should be getting ready for work. I was 21 and a green witch. My magical education ended 2 years ago. There are no schools for witches or wizards. We normally go to regular schools and then, because you can't learn magic without gaining substantial knowledge of how nature works. When we are about 15, get a Mistress or a Master to train us as apprentices for full 4 years. But that is for witches and wizards, who live on the grounds controlled by the Sabbath. Almost all continents are divided between the local sabbaths, werecreatures (we, on the Central Continent, have werewolves, but on some continents, there are werelions or werebisons), and humans. There are some dark creatures, like vampires, but they don't have their own domains, at least for now. But I didn't live among witches. I was raised in the human realm. I was an apprentice at my grandma's. I didn't pass the master's exam, grandma says I'm still not ready. Now I am working with her in her shop in the capital of the human realm, Silver City. That means we must struggle to make ends meet. Well, it's not easy to be a witch among humans and none of us is very talented, we are more like decent craftswomen, but without a spark. My granny is acknowledged as a master due to her knowledge and experience of herbs and potions. But still, we can't cease our magic and live like ordinary humans, because magic has to get its way out, can't be suppressed. If not practiced, it will rise with time inside of a witch or wizard and blow off, causing damage. I love my granny deeply. She raised me after my parent's death when I was 5. My mother wasn't a witch and her marriage to my father, a wizard, was considered a misalliance. There were some in the magical society strongly biased against her and me, as a non-pureblood witch. That's why granny decided to move from witches' territory after my parent's death. Now we live our humble and modest life in the suburbs of Silver City. I am happy, my only concern is these dreams. I started having them when I was 15. I told granny, but she dismissed it saying that I was overworked due to the fact that my magic started showing and gave me a potion. It worked for some time, although I was dizzy almost all the time and couldn’t think properly. That affected me strongly. In my school, they looked at me as if I was a freak. They didn't like me much before, but it was even worse than usual. So when dreams came back, I didn’t tell granny. I have been struggling with them for more than 5 years now and they come to me more often than before. And every time they come, I am tired as if I was running in the woods for real. Maybe I should talk with grandma about them again. I went to the bathroom to do my business. I looked in the mirror to see my tired face and messy hair. Some people have bad hair every day. My features are quite attractive, but not when I look like a zombie with bags under my green-gray eyes. Sometimes it’s good to be a witch, I thought, as I applied a beauty potion over my face. It helped immediately. It wouldn't really change the features, but it made my skin look fresh and glowing. What a shame that most people are biased. We could make money with this potion, but only a few have the courage to buy it. They let their flesh be cut by surgeons to look pretty, but they are afraid of just a little green magic. That is insane. I decided to wear a long emerald green dress without sleeves. It went well with my dark brown hair. It looked like the day would be sunny, and trust me, a witch can tell, so I paired the dress with brown sandals. At 7.45 I was ready and went to the kitchen. “Hello”, I greeted my granny. “Hello sunshine, tea is ready. Today you will be alone at the shop. I must collect some herbs and prepare potions for next week.” She said, grabbing a huge basket. I mentioned that our shop wasn’t very popular and potions tend to expire quickly, so every Friday I worked alone while my granny made a new batch of potions for the following week. Granny went out as I sipped my tea. Witches don’t need coffee, herbs are better. Our shop was on the ground floor of our house. It had a witchy style, with many jars and bottles on the shelves. Flowers and herbs were all around the shop, creating a specific scent. We were both green witches, which means we didn't use any animal parts for our potions and we were unable to perform dark arts or hurt anybody with our magic. Luckily for us, some ordinary people knew about it and weren’t afraid of us. They valued our medicine and cosmetics. They have similar ingredients and effects as non-magical ones, but it is our magic used while making them that accelerates the effect. Unfortunately, this kind of magic wears off quickly. The weather for the weekend was going to be beautiful, with the first hot days of early summer ahead. I sold some balm for sunburn and beauty potions. Better than yesterday, but still insufficient. At 17, I closed the shop and went upstairs. I heard voices in the kitchen. Strange, we do not have guests often. “You shouldn’t hide…” said a woman. For sure, it wasn’t granny. “I know what I am doing, mind your own business”, that was granny, but her voice was harsh and full of anger. I didn’t even imagine she could talk like that. “As you wish, but I warned you,” said the first voice, and I heard a loud pop. I stormed to the kitchen, but granny was alone. “Who was that?” I asked. “There was no one here, sweetheart,” Granny said in a cheerful voice, but she didn’t look me in the eyes. Definitely, something was wrong. I was going to find out what.