“The assignment will be due by next month. You may come to see me if you have any other questions. Good day, class,” Mr Declan says before exiting the class. Only then does everyone pack up and leave. His reputation as the most handsome teacher in Manville High is the only reason the students didn’t leave immediately the alarm signalling the end of lessons sounded. Being hot surely has its perks.
Lia bolts out of the class as fast as her legs can carry her. It doesn’t help that she has to squeeze through tightly locked arms and sweaty bodies. “Ow! What a bitch!” exclaims a brunette with freckles. Lia doesn’t bother apologizing; she abandoned such courtesies a long time ago. Besides, staying back to say sorry would only make her later than she already is.
“I don’t even know why I chose this school in the first place,” she huffs as she walks out of the close her school is situated in, irritated by the smell of sweat on her. Her senses may be weaker than that of a normal witch, but they’re still quite sharp. At least they’re sharp enough to detect the number of humans whose sweat have touched her clothes, and that isn’t comforting, to say the least.
“I think the same thing from time to time too,” Sandara says, slightly scaring her as she whirls around so fast that she almost suffers a whiplash. “Aunt! Would you stop appearing so randomly? It’ll be hard to explain how you suddenly appeared out of thin air to anyone who comes by. I keep telling you to exercise caution, but you never listen…” “Oh shush, dear. I’ve lived among mortals long before you were even born. I should be the adviser, not you. Besides, if a certain person had shown up on time, I wouldn’t have come looking for anyone,” Sandara replies, cutting her short.
“I couldn’t leave while the teacher was still in class. It’s not like I own the school or anything,” Lia responds with as much sass as she can muster. She is no match for her aunt though. “Of course, you do, silly. You could tell the principal to vacate his office for you and he would do so without a word of complaint. What’s a mere teacher compared to that?” “He’s the hottest teacher in school,” Lia argues. “So? Don’t tell me you’re crushing on him or something.” “I’m not.” “Then what’s the problem with leaving the class if he doesn’t want to stop teaching? I’ve always told you that a sophisticated, private high school is the right choice for you. But no, you’d rather settle for that shitty shack, all because you want to prove a point. A point that isn’t worth all this stress.”
Lia wants to argue but thinks better of it. Until she can match her aunt’s acerbic tongue, she’s better off quiet. If there is one thing witches are famous for apart from their unparalleled control of magic, it’s their haughtiness. Sandara says it’s an acquired trait, but Lia finds that hard to believe. She has never seen any witch who isn’t naturally arrogant- it practically runs in the blood.
Upon reaching the point where the road diverges into two paths, the duo momentarily stop. “Go now, witchling. Don’t take too long,” Sandara squeezes Lia’s shoulders a little too tight for her liking and then vanishes. Lia walks straight ahead into a portal made by her aunt for her use alone. The unassuming passer-by would simply think she took the path on the right and made a sharp turn.
As soon as Lia appears on the other side, she rushes to a makeshift room and changes into her mining gear. Armed with her magical drill and a sack that looked like it had seen better days, despite being relatively new, she exits the makeshift room and heads for her mining site. Her trusty magiconet- a device for sensing objects imbued with magic- hangs loosely around her neck. Those who don’t know better would assume it is a camera.
After walking for a mile, she arrives at the point where she previously stopped searching. She placed a marker there to indicate the end of her search, so it is easy for her to continue. Using her magiconet, she tries to locate anything that hints towards magic. All she requires is a clue in the form of a blue light for her to bring out her tools and commence excavation.
The next three hours are spent scanning the earth’s surface and various caves for magical clues. Like several days before this, she is unable to find any more pternē. Pternē are magical devices, used by ancient, pure-blooded witches to store miniscule amounts of magic. Undeterred by her poor luck, she keeps searching until it is well past dusk, something she realises upon making her way out of a particularly deep cave. “How time flies,” she muses, as she heads back to change.
She goes home to find her aunt fast asleep on one of the sofas in the living room. Her heart melts at this. Even though Sandara would never openly admit it, she loves her niece dearly. Lia takes only three steps when she hears her aunt whisper into her ears. “Why are you late?” “I got caught up scanning a really deep cave and lost track of time. I’m sorry.” “Not as sorry as you would’ve been had things gone awry, I assure you. Why do you have a wristwatch if you won’t use it?”
Lia doesn’t apologize. Not because she isn’t sorry, but because she knows that it will only make matters worse. Upsetting an already worried Sandara is not something she would ever consider doing. Not if she can help it. “I’m feeling quite merciful today, but you won’t be so lucky next time. Go wash up and comedown for supper. If you found any pternē, though I’m sure you didn’t, leave it in my study.”
