Amorfia: Academy of Witchcraft and Witches

Chapter 1 - New Moon

It was midnight. Though, no one could possibly know that if they were to peer up the moonless sky. It was the night of a New Moon. The New Moon signifies a multitude of things; New beginnings, new life, new love. But for one, Artemis, the New Moon tonight refers to the start of a new term. One that she has been dreading. Despite the cool breeze settling in the comfort of her new dorm room, she was working up a cold sweat and even the quiet snores coming from her roommate (which usually would prompt Artemis herself to find comfort in the land of dreams) couldn't silence her wildly thumping heart.

In conclusion, Artemis couldn't sleep. And it sucks.

Giving up on trying to sleep for what felt like the hundredth time, Artemis sat up on her bed, pulling back her sheets to head towards the open window of her shared room. She was hoping that the cold October air could help ease her nerves. She had always been able to rely on a cool night to draw comfort from and soothe her fretting soul. Her birth name was even inspired by the stars, gods. But it seems like the gods had other plans for the young witch tonight. With a frustrated sigh (and a hand running through her hair), Artemis went back inside.

"Even the wind deities can't calm me," Artemis sighed. This whole 'start-of-term' fiasco is slowly but surely draining the blonde girl's energy.

And it hasn't even started yet.

If you were to ask any outsider, the start of fourth term of school shouldn't be that bad to grate on someone's (in this case, Artemis') nerves this mercilessly. But then again, they probably didn't go to Amorfia; School for Witches and Witchcraft. So they probably aren't aware of Amorfia's very peculiar tradition, especially regarding the new fourth years:

Every year at the start of term, there will be a grand feast to; not only celebrate Samhain, but to welcome the first year witches who will be arriving at the academy on the day itself (the second years and up were to come back to the academy a day before the first years would arrive as per tradition). Then, later in the evening, they would light up a bonfire to honour the seniors that have left Amorfia to travel the path they were destined. What had Artemis so worked up is what came after the bonfire: Ulmus-Corylus. A sort of ritual where a fourth year, would presume the role of an Ulmus (Elm) towards a first year whom in turn would presume the role of a Corylus (Hazel). It's kind of like a mentor and mentee. Every Ulmus-Corylus relationship lasts 3 years; until the Elm graduates. Apparently, Ulmus-Corylus relationships are to help build trust in the witching community so that witches would depend on their own kin rather than seeking help from others.

It was a tradition created by the Witches of Old back in the age where witches or practitioners of witchcraft were prosecuted for their 'crimes' against god. But that was centuries ago. Surely, Madame Alse has changed her mind about the archaic tradition? It's the 21st century!

Artemis let out a defeated sigh. She knew she was wasting her time by pondering these questions. The Witches of Old were thought to be the wisest of women. What was she, a mere 16 year old to do about it? Complain, maybe but that was probably it. She let out another sigh. 'Maybe a spot of tea and a little bit of tarot could help,' with that thought in mind, Artemis made her way to the kitchenette to brew, ignoring the two empty (to be filled, her mind helplessly supplied) beds along the way.

Rummaging the cabinets, she reached for her mug and a jar labelled 'Anxietatum' followed by a sigil the platinum blonde had claimed to be hers. Opening the lid of the jar, Artemis hummed pleasantly as the scent of chamomile, lavender and passionflower filled her nose. With a grace that only comes after repeated practice, Artemis made quick work to brew. Being careful as to not accidentally remove the fluorite crystal laying in the middle of the jar, she scooped half a tablespoon of the dried herbs to add in her mug before boiling some water with a murmur of 'Fervefacio'. Pouring the magickally boiled water, Artemis waited for about 5 minutes before straining her tea. Taking a small sip to test the taste, a smile made its way to her lips, "Perfect." With a wave of her hands the kitchenette cleaned itself and Artemis walked back to the open window (not before swiping the worn out deck of tarot on her nightstand) and pulled a chair to sit on.