A Rational Magic || ONC2022

Twenty-Six || Maybe-Prophecies And Plans

I only realise I fell asleep when I wake up to see that everyone else is still asleep. Which is kinda surprising, because I'm pretty sure you tend to sleep for a bit longer after going without sleep for long periods of time.

Two days is too long. Anya's said that a few times, though it was more a complaint towards Mum and Dad and not really a lecture point as it could have been.

I'm worried, I notice dimly, glancing out the barred window to see very little. Why that is appears to be for a very different reason than you might think.

It's not because I'm locked in a tower.

It's the fact that something keeps flickering in my mind. Like snatches of a dream I've already forgotten. And maybe that's what it is.

But it feels important.

Winter... winter and summer...

Ugh.

When winter turns to summer... I wrack my brain, trying to find the rest of the sentence.

There's no real reason for me to assume I can truly remember it — and surely no reason for me to think that this is so important — but I block the tower room out and focus all my attention on this... because I feel like I have to.

Winter turning to summer is just spring, right? Like the Vernal Equinox.

So. March.

It's August now.

As if was waiting for me to work that out, the answer hits me. And it just leaves me with even more questions than before.

When winter turns to summer, the foreign one shall mark an age of death and a time of war.

What does it mean?

I know enough about prophets and seers in fantasy books to understand that prophecies are usually either nightmarish to decode or so simple a baby could probably work out half the details. This... this is the former.

"Lani?"

"What is it?" I ask, looking over at Ash. He's still half tangled with Blake — who's still fast asleep — and it's really strange to see. Anya and I didn't do things like that when we were seven, after all.

Or maybe we did. Maybe it's just weird to be on the outside looking in.

"You're a funny sort of hero."

"I'm sorry?"

"Granny says heroes in fairy tales are always knights in shining armour," he explains, with that weird sort of honesty that only young children seem to possess. "You aren't a knight, are you?"

"No..."

"Hm. And princesses don't do the saving, do they? Even though you do look a bit like a fairy princess."

"Not very often, no. I suppose not." I don't have a clue where he's going with this. "So what do you think I am?"

"I think you're a witch."

"A good witch, right?"

"Mhm."

"Well, I'm going to be the most heroic witch you've ever seen!" I say, forgetting to keep my voice low. Matilda opens one eye for a moment before closing it again as if I hadn't noticed. "I'm just going to need some helpers."

~|•

Mercury was either drugged or really hasn't slept in days, I swear. By the time he wakes up, the witch and her loyal helpers have all been awake for several hours, quietly planning an escape attempt.

"You lot are insane," is the only remark he has when Emily explains it to him, missing out about half the steps we agreed on in her excitement. "When do you think we'll be able to do any of that?"

"Whenever we decide the best time is, duh!" Matilda said with a grin. Blake stuck his tongue out as his own response, which said everything anyone needed to know about what he thought.

"That isn't an answer, Tilly," Mercury sighed. "Lani, you can't think this is going to work. It requires so much more than you seem to think — magic, for one!"

"Yeah, but Lani's a witch," Ash said, leaning over to give him a very weak shove. "She can do magic."

"Really."

"Watch this."

I held up my hand and whispered the incantation for a fire-spell — something Ash had requested as proof the moment I produced the spellbook from my 'magic bag'. Which was actually magic, as it turned out.

Awesome.

When my hand burst into flame, Mercury went white.

"What the hell?" he asked, his voice little more than a croak.

And then there was a knock on the door.

I shoved my hand behind my back as it opened, not having a chance to say the second half of the spell. You know, the part that puts the fire out.

Mercury and I both recognised the wyvern tattoo immediately — he ducked his head and I raised an eyebrow as if it was the first time I'd ever seen it.

I did have to admit, it did look really cool.

"Have any of you changed your minds yet?" Longhurst asked.

Emily shook her head violently, and he tutted.

"Of course not. You don't have to listen to him, you know."

"It's their own flipping choice," Mercury snapped. Except he didn't actually say flipping.

Matilda and Ash shared some kind of look. Probably one of shock, since they were children.

Blake bit his lip, glanced between me and Mercury, and then stood up when I gave him the tiniest of nods.

"Ah," Longhurst said with a creepy smile. "Brilliant."

"Wait, don't—!" Ash cried out convincingly enough, struggling to his feet as Longhurst grabbed his brother's arm and pulled him towards the door.

"Don't what?"

With that, they were gone.

Ash groaned, sitting right back down again. "I don't like this bit."

"They can't torture anything out of him if he can't speak, right?" Mercury said. "I assume that's why Blake's doing this bit?"

"Not really?" I had not been considering the possibility of torture. "Just... we're not sending Emily, and Ash didn't really want to, and Matilda and Blake basically did rock-paper-scissors for it?"

"As the professionals do!" Emily said with a bright smile.

"Yeah... just like the professionals..."

"So, do you actually want the full plan, or are we leaving you here to rot?"

"God, am I always going to be relying on you to save me?" he groaned. "I feel like that's my job?"

"As if!"