Margery

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✢ 2

his is behavior unfit for a young witch of your status!” Lectured the House Mother as they marched down to the learning buildings. Older witches and wizards snickered at her when she walked by. The House Mother either didn’t care, or she didn’t hear them. “Not only is it your first day, but you’re already late. And you’ve gone and missed breakfast too!”

But I’m not a witch, she wanted to protest, I’m a Fae. I don’t belong here!

It was true too. The Great Hall of Mollian must have made a mistake. Except for the Great Hall of Mollian never made a mistake, but if it sorted her as a Witch, well then, there must have been.

She deserved to be frolicking in the forests among the other Fae, channeling her inner spirit and connecting with Mother Nature. Not learning about, whatever it was she was supposed to be learning about. She pulled out her schedule and stared at the classes listed there.

MONDAYS ONLY >> Grimoire Seminar; Vito Sutcliffe; Room 234; 9:45 AM

-Lunch Break-

Empathy 131; Helleborus; Room 518; 1:00 PM

Potions 1; Pricilla Davies; Room 145; 3:45 PM

SATURDAYS ONLY >> Plantery Witches Covent

Who (or what) in the world were the Planetary Witches? That sounded dark and shady. Margery could picture them practicing curses and learning how to kill people. Typical witch behaviors. At least she had a pretty flexible schedule.

They took a sharp turn to the right (and on such a narrow path that the House Mother almost careened Margery off the path) and entered one of the learning buildings and stopped at a lecture hall. There were lots of young witches and wizards already present, and they all turned to her upon her entry. Embarrassed beyond repair, Margery walked over to an empty seat, pretending not to notice the dozens of eyes trained on her.

She pulled out her grimoire, eyeing her bound book of empty spells disdain. What kind of grimoire didn’t even have spells in it? She was already becoming a failure of a witch, and she hadn’t even wanted to be one in the first place! Oh, why couldn’t it have been a twisting golden wand instead?

“...as you continue to grow as witches and wizards, your grimoires will also grow, and the pages will continue to fill themselves with spells and the like” Said Vito Sutcliffe, the professor. He was a wizard of medium height, big glasses, and an intellectual air about him.

"Now does anyone know what the colors of the grimoire represent?"

The girl sitting next to Margery raised her hand almost immediately. Her hair was green, like the color of enchanted grass. She wore a cocky smirk proudly like she knew all the world's secrets. "The colors don't actually mean anything Professor. The symbols on the front and inside of the grimoire can lead a witch (or wizard) to deduce the magic type he or she possesses"

Margery blinked in surprise. To the Fae, the color of the wand meant everything. Golden wands for the strongest Fae, blessed by the Goddess herself. Blue wands for fae of the water, purple for fae of the wind. White wands for healing, and so and so forth. Both of her parents had possessed golden wands, which just made her acceptance into the Coven for Witches and Wizards even more shameful.

The professor clapped, clearly pleased with her answer. "Excellent as usual Miss Canmore. I don't know what else I expected of a Hereditary witch."

The green-haired witch preened.

"Excellent" Continued Vito. "There are symbols of the moon, sun, and stars for the Cosmic Witches. Birds, and things of nature for the Augury Witches. There might even be symbols or drawings of the hearth, children, or flowers for Kitchen Witches" Margery took another look at her grimoire, this time looking for any symbols that were previously mentioned.

Her grimoire was a greyish-blue in color, bound by soft leather material that felt cool to the touch. The four corners of the book were engraved with flowery vines of some sort and little stars littered the cover. Smack dab in the middle was a magic circle, the symbol of a trident in the middle of that. Right above the circle on both ends were golden crescent moons. It looked nice enough, she supposed. Not as nice as the so-called Hereditary Witch sitting next to her though.

Margery wished she had paid more attention during her previous schooling lessons with her parents and the private tutors who were hired. She had no idea what the trident represented, nor what the flowery vines were. However, she did know that she was a Cosmic witch of some sort.

"Now, when you set up your meeting with Evanora Hosta, you'll be able to discuss what type of witch you are in more detail. You are expected to ask any questions or concerns you may have with her. That's whats she's here for"

The professor dismissed the class shortly after that, claiming that the only homework they had to do was set up a meeting with Evanora Hosta. Which sounded easy enough, except for the fact that Margery had no idea who she was, or how to get in contact with her.

She considered hanging back after class to ask, but then decided against it. For maybe the fifth time this morning, Margery wondered why the Goddess had forsaken her like this.

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