Simple Magic

A gentle sun had warmed the grass, just enough so Cassia could go about her business barefoot. She kneeled down to inspect a thick cluster of mushrooms forming on a tree trunk, deciding they would need another day or two before she would harvest them. Her apron dress gently grazed the tall grass below her, and she checked her front pocket to see if it was already full.

Lavender… Marigold… Rosebuds… She tried separating them with her fingers to get a better look at them, and decided to walk back to her cottage.

It was a short walk from the forest it was located in. A trail had already formed since she walkedthis particular route so many times, and the occasional merchant came by here as well – the wheels of their carriages creating trails in the packed dirt.

The cottage lay just up ahead, at the edge of the woods, overlooking a meadow that bordered the farms of the village down below. At night, you could look out the window and see the entire village lit up – with fireflies flitting around the wildflowers.

Cassia approached the stone cottage, it’s crooked blue roof and worn woodwork clearly visible through the trees. She picked up a full basket of flowers that stood below her window, and used her bare feet to kick open the door.

She was greeted with the strong smell of lavender, as a large kettle filled with it stood in the middle of her room, gently simmering. A large pinkish cloud started forming above it, and Cassia quickly grabbed a broomstick next to her and swept away the mist. “Not yet, not yet” she said out loud – as if the magical potion could hear her. She grabbed the clump of lavender from her front pocket and unceremoniously threw it in the kettle. The marigold and rosebuds were gently added to some large glass jars on a workbench.

The bench was filled with glass jars and bottles – holding a myriad of different ingredients. Some were flowers, some were minerals, and some were so oddly shaped that the average person would have no idea what it was.

Cassia eyed the cauldron suspiciously as she bunched up her sleeves and pulled her hair up in a bun. She leaned over a book that stood splayed open on an old mahogany bookstand, and double checked the words she was about to read. She opened her mouth, when a pink cloud started forming again. “What did I just say?” she said, now using her arms to swipe at the cloud. “Not yet!”

As her hands pierced the pink cloud, little particles of the mist became stuck in between her fingers. “Drats” she sighed, wiping her hands above the cauldron. “I guess it is time then” she murmured, grabbing a jar from the workbench and holding it upside down above the potion.

As she swayed her hand gently to gather the ethereal cloud into the jar, the distant sound of hooves striking the packed dirt got her attention. The rhythmic thudding echoed through the clearing. This did not immediately seem out of the ordinary – Every now and then, a messenger or scouting soldier crossed the dirt path. Still, Cassia quickly closed the jar and put it away, blowing the rest of the mist away a third time.

If it were one of the king’s men, she had to make sure to seem as unthreatening as possible. Magic and alchemy weren’t forbidden per se, but there were strict rules on what you could and could not do – and if anyone felt even the least bit threatened, you could risk your entire inventory being taken away – you could even be locked up for a short while if they felt you did something illegal, even if they could not prove it.

In the past, Cassia’s cottage had been raided by soldiers before. She was working on a sleeping spell just like this one, and since the scout that saw it didn’t know what was going on, he had called for backup. Though sleeping draughts were allowed and even welcomed by the kingdom, the men had asked no questions and had destroyed months’ worth of potions, spells and ingredients.

The galloping increased, and it was not just one horse she heard. There had to be at least four or five of them.

She scanned her room, making sure there was no sign of any subordination – and nothing to threatening to normal men. Her eyes grazed past the bookcases filled with potion recipes, the small round windows in the stone walls, her large wooden bed around the corner. The small kitchen area that was mostly filled with brewing bottles and fermenting jars, the wooden cutlery hanging from the stovetop. Her round table was filled with loose papers and baskets.

The whinnying of a horse now sounded very, very close, and she wondered how many scouts were out there, and what they were going toward. If it were a routine checkup meant for her, they surely would send just one rider, wouldn’t they? This small delegation was probably meant for something else, anyone else.

Just when this thought started to calmed her down a bit, she heard the hooves slowing down and halting, right along the path to her cottage. She held her breath, as she saw six soldiers on top of their steeds – the one in the front now stepping off of his horse and approaching her door before knocking loudly.

“By the decree of King Astor Armand, I, Petrus Woodsmith, emissary of the royal court, demand entry. Open the door; we seek an audience with Anisha, the mage residing in these woods.”