Hey, Blue

1 - Blue Morning

The borderlands between Switzerland and France weren't quite as bustling with witches as one might imagine. Despite the proximity, most found their homes in the quiet countryside of the United Kingdoms or nestled within the serene fields of the Netherlands, with plenty scattered across the rest of Europe.

Witches, as it was, tended to settle in rural or suburban areas, where the land met the sky in a way that felt necessary. It was here, in these pockets of calm, that they found balance—close enough to the pulse of city life, yet with enough quiet to stargaze, practise their moon rituals, or simply connect with the plants and creatures of the surrounding forests.

Of course, not every witch followed this path, but the stereotype existed for a reason.

In truth, most witches lived in ordinary, unremarkable homes on streets lined with cul-de-sacs and parks, not the whimsical dwellings the stories might lead one to believe. The media, with its romantic notions, often missed the mark, painting a picture far more magical than the reality.

Where he sat, living in the small house on the very precipice of France and Switzerland, Marley wished it was as simple as that, —a world as easily fixable and healable as the one the movies imagined.

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The soft hum of the kettle on the gas stove gave way to the crack of dawn, the same way it always did. Light, warming the windows and lighting up the kitchen, with its mismatched mugs and hand-me-down appliances – that were still better quality than anything Marley ever had growing up – held a cosy quality despite its small size.

He moved about the kitchen quietly, cautious of his still sleeping roommate as he prepared his morning tea with practised ease. The scent of chamomile filled the room, mingling with the faint trace of lingering elderberry from last night's potion. The remnants still dusting the bottom of the cauldron.

His hand trembled, and he steadied it with a grimace.

Marley took a sip of tea from his mug, holding it through the handle, rather than by the handle, and shuffled into his small workroom off the right side of the hallway. Across from Emrys bedroom, and one door to the left of his own.

Technically, it was a sunroom. With large windows lining the far wall, and the far wall far thinner than any other in the house. But Emrys had let him repurpose it.

Now, it served as his office, his 'at-home apothecary', a space crammed with jars of ingredients, and stacks and stacks of parchment.

He settled at the desk, ignoring the squeak the old wood made, and grabbed the list of 'to-do's' sent to him by his superior over Merlin's Rest from the pile of papers tucked in the corner. He took another sip of his tea.

His attention is pulled to the corner of the desk by a shrill little beep, the familiar sound of his brick vibrating against the wood beneath it. He sets down his tea and reaches for the device, flipping it over in his hand. As expected every day, it's the usual 'Good morning!' message from his ever-cheerful co-worker, Khairi Bronte, accompanied by an endless string of emoticons that seem to take up half the screen.

His lips quirk up in a smile as he types a quick 'Morning!' in response, the letters appearing slowly on the tiny, outdated display, before pressing send with a tap.

The phone hums in reply, but Marley's attention has already shifted. He sets it back down on the desk, with only a light tremble, the buzzing quieting as it settles, and turns back to the task at hand.

With a well-practised motion, he picks up his pen and scribbles the date in the top corner of the page, the ink dragging slightly on the paper. His handwriting is a little messy today, but it doesn't matter. Not yet, at least. The first starts of his daily notes take shape slowly, his thoughts still waking up alongside him, still finding their rhythm as the tea cools beside him.