WALPURGIA ✔️

Chapter 17 - Game of Prophecy

  ☽ 

"I'm Diane Molineux", confused, I looked around to find the source of the voice.

The witching room was bigger than mine at home, having four big desks in it, a couch, several chairs and five bookshelves which were filled to the brim. Unlike the usual Victorian room, it only bore one colour and no decoration, no wallpapers.

My nose caught the scent of dried up herbs and they appeared, hanging from the ceiling in bundles. Wax I caught next.

Candles appeared in the room, on every table, on the floor, in several shapes and colours.

The scent of old leather, ink, and magic laid in the air.

But there was nobody in the room.

Arthur Whitlock shook me. He pointed to the biggest table, as dark as a raven.
"To the table. No comment." As rude as always, Arthur shoved me forward into the room. I didn't move. The door fell shut behind me.

Objecting would make little sense and would lead me nowhere. But I still debated on doing so.

"Welcome to your first lecture, Lady Rebecca. In this hour, you shall learn the herbs and their meaning. In the next, you will learn the art of brewing." The voice was as pleasant as the sun.

With hesitant steps, I slowly stalked to the table. Would an echo teach me? The cheery voice only got louder. "Potion brewing requires patience and concentration, just so you know my dear."

I reached the table and let my hand touch it. Waves of energy tickled against my palm. I circled the table, eyeing the many open books, herbs, cauldrons, witch's fire, witch's water – "Careful!"

I looked down, halting in my steps.

A tiny witch, reaching my knees, with a firm body structure and a broad smile greeted me cheerily.

"Good morning, Lady Rebecca! How was your sleep?"

"F-Fine, thank you very much", I didn't know what to do, bow down, crouch down? Sit down? I crouched down, and she smiled.

"My, you look much like Lady Anne-Marie! Beauty certainly runs in this family."

"As much as greed, impatience and strength does", I mumbled before me.

My new teacher crooked her head with a sympathetic smile. "Left a bitter taste in your mouth, didn't she? Lady Genevieve can be stern, yes, but one day you'll understand her. She has a good heart." How many layers do I need to destroy to get to it though?

"Sit down on the red pillow chair", she patted my knee softly. "Let's see how much you know about herbs."

After a good hour, she decided it was enough. "You do know a great deal, even about the dark arts. Now's the question if you know how to use it properly. Have you ever brewed a potion?"

"A handful of times, but I never needed it after I finished my training."

"Then it's time to pick it up again."

She swung her arms and a book flew out of the shelf. Brown, tiny, jammed with somebody's remarks next to the sentences. It reminded me of my father's grimoire.

"There's the infusion. It's essential when you want to make liquids, like wine, juice or even oil. We make them in cauldrons, even though some think it will disrupt the energy. But I never have gotten better results without it. We have two cauldrons, one made out of iron and the other out of steel. Iron pots vibrate the energy of earth within. Stainless steel infuses it with energy, lend by the element of fire."