Danse Macabre

Chapter 1

October 2021, Edinburgh

Crispy cider made its way down Brontë's throat. I'm going to need something stronger to survive this, she thought to herself. It was late Tuesday afternoon and as many times before, she was sat in a pub with her best friend, Diana. Tuesdays' lectures always ended early, so the girls made it a tradition to go to their favourite pub, order cheap food and drinks and gossip.

"I've heard of this new place, we should check it out! It's got cheap booze, good food and boys in leather... What else could you want?" Diana said earlier in the day, and even Brontë, known for her love of arguing, didn't find a single reason not to agree. Now, sitting in a Magic Labirynth, she was regretting every decision that lead her to here.

"Diana..." started Brontë, taking another sip of her cider. "When were you going to tell that it was all a ploy to get me here?"

"I've no idea what you're talking about, love." said Diana, trying to hide a smile. She looked around a pub and waived at friends she recognised from uni, hoping that they'll come and save her from Brontë's wrath.

"Don't love me, Abernathy. You know very well what I'm talking about." Brontë crossed her arms and gave Diana a side eye. "While mentioning all of the amazing things about this place, not once did you say that it'll be a bloddy Wiccan lecture!"

Diana and Brontë have been friends since kindergarden. Short and curvy Diana, with her pale skin, long ginger hair and green eyes was a total opposite of tall, athletic Brontë with dark brown hair and silver eyes. Their personalities were also vastly different, with Diana resembling a ray of sunshine, where Brontë was more of a storm cloud. Despite their differences, they quickly became inseparable, agreeing in mostly everything. Everything, but magic.

Diana rolled her eyes, bracing herself for an argument as old as time. Every now and then she tried to convince her best friend to give magic a try, but every time she was met with a wall of resistance.

"Have you ever heard of being open-minded? You should try it sometime."

Brontë clenched her fists, trying hard not to let her anger control her.

"I am open-minded, Diana. Open-minded to things that are real. This whole magic thing? It's a scam. You should know better than this."

"There are so many things we still don't know, Brontë!" Diana exclaimed, annoyed. Her faith in magic meant everything to her and she still didn't understand why her best friend would belittle it like this. "Why can't you just admit that magic is real?"

Because for the last 500 years my kind had to hide. Because when we tried to help humans, they started hunting us. Because I'm already on a thin ice, fraternising with a human. And because if Hidden Dair has even a tiniest suspicion that I've let it slip that I'm a witch... we're both good as dead.

Brontë took a deep breath, trying to get her nerves under control. She hated lying to Diana, she hated hiding that piece of her from everyone. But most importantly, she hated how she had to act about magic. To Brontë magic was the most important thing. Her whole being and her whole life were dedicated to it. She had ambitions, big ambitions to become a part of Hidden Dair. Only one person a year, the most powerful and promising witch could be chosen to become a part of that council. And while Hidden Dair membership itself was an achievement, Brontë had an ulterior motive. That was the only way to become the head of the coven, and then the leader of the witches worldwide. Brontë knew better than anyone, why witches went underground, but she also felt like it was a time to leave the shadows. And to do that, she had to lie to her best friend.

One day Di, I'll show you exactly how real magic feels. But for now, I'll deny its existence with every bit of my being.

"I'm sorry Di, but it's just not gonna happen. I don't understand why you cannot let me be, why do you keep shoving magic down my throat." Brontë shrugged.