Speculative Chaos

The Cosmic Keyholder

Round 1 – Part 2 Prompt for the Fabulous Spec-Fic Smackdown 2024: At the age of seven, Lily was looking forward to witches' school. But now, at twenty-one, she has to find her place in the world, and that's a challenge no one prepared her for.

Word count = 2377

Icy fog enveloped the swamp, chilling Lily to the bone, despite thick leggings and jacket. Backlit by a full moon above, twisted moss-draped branches clawed at the night sky, creating an ominous, surreal mood. Her rubber boots sloshed in the sloppy marsh. Malicious tales abounded of the Black Swamp, of hungry, evil spirits that fed on unlucky trespassers, and the dark mud that erased all traces.

Nobody in their right mind ventured here. But Lily knew well this path.

A normal person would never see the rustic cottage with its rounded roof of thatched reeds, nor the lazy smoke rising from a cobblestone chimney. But a witch might detect the spell that concealed it like a hidden pocket.

Extending arms and crossing wrists, Lily peeled back the folds of reality as if parting curtains, revealing her destination. The faint golden-yellow light that showed through small crosshatched windows invited her onward across the flat stone path to a covered porch. At the rounded, weathered oaken door, she paused, then let out a long breath to calm a pounding heart, watching the condensed moisture lazily curl around on itself.

The door creaked open before she knocked. Lily squinted against the bright light that silhouetted the old woman. A long dress, green and brown like the swamp, covered a slender figure while a black bandana held back long silver hair. A welcoming smile brightened a face creased by long life. "My dear granddaughter," the woman said. "I knew you'd come this day."

Lily collapsed into welcoming arms that never failed to comfort. Long ago, as a little girl, Lily lost her parents to a raging mob. Under her grandmother's advice, she moved into a magic boarding school at age seven, like most young witches. It provided a kind of stability, but she suffered exclusion. Because of her mother's rogue power and rebellious defiance of established order, even to the governing Council of Witches, her parents were vilified, and Lily became pariah by extension. She was often excluded from social groups, taunted, and sometimes bullied.

Loneliness left a thousand tiny scars upon Lily's heart, but she learned to cope, to find her way. A loving grandmother became her lighthouse, a guiding beacon across dark social waters. She learned to find solace in solitude and to cultivate what friends and mentors she could along the way. 'Open your eyes to what is good and pure, my child,' Lily's grandmother had advised. 'We tend to find that which we seek.'

Now at age twenty-one and free from school, the uncertainty of finding her way within a human world that despised witches shadowed her spirit. Having to hide her true identity did not help, and Lily's tiny studio apartment was even more lonely than the school. As if not enough, a relentless calling, nearly irresistible, invaded her mind.

"Does the Key still call?" Lily's grandmother asked, sensing an uneasy aura.

"Yes," Lily responded with a single sob, trembling. "First, my night dreams, now as waking visions."

"Come, I've made some tea. Let's talk."

They sat in twin comfy stuffed chairs before a crackling hearth. The grandmother twirled a hand, dimming the werelights floating above until the flickering fire provided a comforting illumination.

While clutching a steaming pottery mug, Lily bent her head forward, allowing long, dark hair to tumble before her face as tears emerged from large, doe-like honey-brown eyes. "I don't know how long I can take this."