Helena sighed as she peered through the window at the guardian that protected her grove. The wooden golem’s once pristine features were faded and chipped away from years of fighting. She could sense the magic holding the thing together fading, and soon she would have to make another. The witch-hunters’ frequent attempts to capture her may be laughable, but they had a strength in numbers that couldn’t be ignored.

Shaking her head, Helena turned from the wilting flower that was her golem towards her storeroom to begin the preparations for creating a new protector. The spell was a simple one to cast; the hard part was carving the shape of the golem. The more intricately detailed the carving was, the stronger the golem would be, but she was getting older and the carving got more difficult every time.

Nevertheless, Helena got out her tools and began working. First she got the general shape of a humanoid; cutting off huge pieces of wood in the process. Next she carved the anatomy of a well-muscled human. Even in her old age, her wood carving skills were on par with that of the most skilled sculptors in the human cities. Lastly, she carved the details of its face. While the rest of the body is that of a generic non-specific human, she tended to subconsciously sculpt the face to resemble humans she felt fondness for decades ago. This, of course, made it all the more difficult to watch the golem deteriorate over time.

The carving was complete, and it was time to bring the golem to life. Helena retrieved a glowing green stone from her storeroom and held it on to the golem’s chest. She muttered an incantation so ancient that time has long forgotten it’s meaning, and the glowing green color faded from the stone. After a moment, the eyes of the golem shot open; glowing the same as the stone did. The golem turned its head to Helena and opened its mouth to speak.

“Mother?” The golem asked slowly, with a strained and quiet voice. Helena gaped at it for a moment. In all her six-hundred years of living she had never heard of a golem speaking before. “Umm.. Hello.” Helena replied after a long deliberation. “Mother!” The golem said, now visibly excited. It curled it’s lips into a smile; another action that Helena had never seen before. “What is your name?” Helena asked, feeling slightly foolish for talking to a golem of all things. The golem pondered a moment, before responding “Lief!” “Ok, Lief. Are you a boy or a girl?” At this question, Lief’s head tilted to the side much like a dog’s would when they’re confused. “That’s ok Lief. You don’t have to be either. So… Umm…” Helena paused. She really had no idea what to do here. A golem has never come to life like this before. But, she had to admit, Lief reminded her so much of the small children who used to play in the grove… before the witch-hunters came. “What do you want out of life,” Helena decided to ask. Again, Lief pondered. Their movements were stiff but more natural than any golem Helena had seen before. “I want to… help mother!” Lief exclaimed with a large smile on their face.

It was true that Helena had dreamed of having a child for many years, but this was decidedly not what she envisioned. The excited personality of a child that Lief had was in stark contrast to the tall and well-muscled wooden body Lief inhabited. The bodies of previous golems never gave her any pause, but the fact that one calling her mother wasn’t wearing any clothes was slightly uncomfortable, even though she hadn’t sculpted anything revealing in the wood. She decided to dress Lief in one of her black robes for the time being.

“This robe is wonderful,” Lief said with genuine awe, “thank you mother!” Helena had to admit that Lief’s raw enthusiasm was rather growing on her.

The day went on and Helena took Lief on a tour of the grove. In that time she got to learn more about Lief and how they don’t know how or why they are different from other golems, but they have a sort of instinctual knowledge on things they like, want, and need. Lief apparently doesn’t need to eat, drink, or sleep. Helena figured as much but it was good to have confirmation.

As the sun started to hang low in the sky, Helena and Lief retired to the cottage. While Lief may not need to sleep, Helena did. She thought for a moment on how to entertain her… child… while she slept.

“Lief, I need to sleep for the night. Would you be interested in browsing through my library while I do? It might be good to get you caught up on the things you don’t know.” “Sure Mother,” Lief responded with just as much enthusiasm as they reply to everything.

Nodding, Helena closed her bedroom door and laid in her bed. She was… a mother now? The golem she made was now a person. She made Lief, and she couldn’t very well throw them out now. She would have to find another solution to the witch-Hunter raids but she’d cross that bridge when she got to it.

Helena drifted to sleep imagining the clothes she’d weave for Lief in the morning; all the long lost hopes and forgotten dreams of having a child flooding back to her.

Spells were always a tricky subject one word mispronounced and the whole spell turns out different. Thats how I ended up like this, as a dumb cat. A stupid fluffy black cat. Like could they have been any more stereotypical. The worst part is the only way to reverse transfiguration spells is to have a reversal potion. I used my last potion when I accidentally turned myself into a rabbit last month, and I’ve been meaning to brew more I just haven’t got around to it. Its not like I can brew them now either, I don’t exactly have opposable thumbs to be able to make those potions. The spell should wear off in nine days, one day for each of the cat’s nine lives. I don’t know why the witch who made that spell had to be so stereotypical, it’s annoying really. Plus I know they have a ton of different cat options, why couldn’t I get a ragdoll or a munckin cat. Why do I have to be such a boring looking cat, why couldn’t I at least be pretty? I guess that was too much to ask for. I really can’t wait for these nine days to be over so I can be done with this.

“You’re the most radiant person I’ve ever seen!” The once cataract cloudy eyes of the boy were now clear and soft green, sharp in their new colour. Hazel flipped through her spell book frantically as the prince stumbled off his makeshift bed.

 “No no no, it was supposed to be cure for blindness, not love is blindness!!” She looked over her ingredients, scanning the list for the love spell to find matches in every one. But she had said the incantation for the blindness cure Martha had taught her, the title said right there… How had this…?

 Gently shoving the prince back onto his bed, he sat with a petulant huff. She retreated, avoiding his invitations to sit beside him. Setting the weathered book down hard upon her wobbling off balance desk, she inspected the seam between the two pages. Someone had ripped the middle page clean off!

 So while it said in small print ‘Love is Blindness’ above the ingredients list, on the other page it said in bold ‘Cure For Blindness’.

 What had she done? This was an illegal spell. A very VERY illegal spell. That she had just casted upon the son of the ruler of the freaking country! There was no way they wouldn’t notice, he was… she turned around to where the prince sat, eyes nearly crossed as he stared intently at her. He smiled wide at her attention, a great grin that split his princely pink lips. His eyes sparkled as he beamed dumbly, and she found she couldn’t get used to their new colour.

 She was so SO screwed.

 Unless…

 “You want to know what you can do to prove your love to me?” He nodded solemnly like a child and sat forward from where she had pushed him. “You have to ignore me”

 “How could I—No please Hazel, if you—“

 “Wait wait wait” She had to be smart about this, royals could only stand being denied or distracted for so long. “Not forever, just until the…” She looked around the room, frantically searching for a far yet close date that would seem auspicious. “Until your sister’s coronation”

 “But why dear Hazel? Is it me? Am I not enough?”

 “No!” She exclaimed. She needed to handle this delicately, a failed love spell was worse than a successful one, and if he caught wind of her lack of feelings he would enter into a broken sleep. The sleep of unreciprocated feelings, while usually painfully but harmless, when brought on by a love spell… she feared it would kill him. “I wouldn’t want your sister’s great moment to be over shadowed by this… really… awesome thing… I need time to… process—adjust, to this… fortune”

 “Oh Hazel, why had I never told you sooner?” He continued crooning, comparing her various feature to that of nature, she barely stifled her eye roll. “Oh, Hazel, my heart, my soul, would you—“

 He yawned widely, a hand still stretched theatrically toward her before collapsing backward onto his bed.

 Sudden as lightning her world had become dramatic. All because of one failed spell.

 She would have preferred mucking the moth stables to this, dancing around a spelled princes feelings over threat of his death and her imprisonment. She wondered what horrors a witch who pulled a mind manipulation spell would face after her trial…

 No, no, she couldn’t think like that. She would figure this out, she would figure this out. First she had to… 

 She tucked the blankets at the foot of the bed over the prince. If he truly believed he ‘loved’ her… perhaps she could use this to hide his supposed ‘love’ itself. Used the love to hide the love. Without a thought for another plan she began haphazardly pulling out her stationary.

 ‘Dear Prince Hyacinth, 

You cannot tell anyone about your feelings for me, nor about the things you said here today, you must play completely indifferent whenever you see me or I am brought up in discussion, I fear it is a matter of my life.’

 She wasn’t technically lying.

 ‘You must push me to the very back of your mind until I can contact you to tell you I am safe, I fear that those who would plot to cull your feelings for me will stop at nothing short of my death. You must act as though you despise me if you are to keep me safe from harm.

 With emotions, Hazel.’

 With a shuddering breath she sealed the letter and left.

I sat on my chair at my desk, with a glass jar in my lap. The jar was clear with the company label imprinted on it. It had dirt inside. I was waiting for something to grow.

I stared at it, waiting for something, anything to grow. Nothing did.

I closed my eyes and concentrated harder than I ever did before. I visualized plants growing out of the jar. Vines, flowers, and leaves all sprouting out in all different directions.

I head a scream and whipped my eyes open and head up. Then I saw it. Vines with flowers and leaves all over my room, but also outside of it.

My door had been opened by the vines and had stretched throughout the whole house.

I ran outside my room and down the stairs to see where the scream had come from.

My mom was being held my the vines in the air.

I ran up to her and tried to pull the vines down, but they held tighter and tighter around my mom.

I closed my eyes and concentrated hard to try and visualize the vines letting my mom go and sliding back into my room.

My eyes shot open and glowed green, and the vines were doing what I visualized.

My eyes then stopped glowing and the vines were safely in my room with my mom on the round. The vines had given her tiny cutes from their thorns.

I promised to do my magic outside next time.

“You’re sure this is gonna work?”

“My dearest Grand-daughter, would I lie to you?”

Griselda held up the crystal glass toward the girl. “Drink this and he’ll be yours!”

Angie took the glass. It looked like purplish Kool-Aid with swirls of glitter. She held it toward her lips. She was scared but her love for Billy was the stronger for it.

“Remember,” the witch warned. “It must be the first young man you see.”

“Wait,” the girl said. “Taste it first.”

“The young man is on his way right now,” the witch said.

“If you’re ok then I’ll be ok.”

Griselda had that familiar feeling that something was about to go horribly wrong.

She sighed and took a tiny sip.

That’s when Bill crashed through the door and glanced at Griselda.

Oops.

“Promise you will not laugh,” Juniper said. “Open this door. I’m freezing my tutti frutti out here,” Rowena answered. “Promise not to laugh first.” “Girl I ain’t playing. It’s cold and my feet are pinching in these new curled toed boots. I don’t know what I was thinking. They cute though.” Rowena did a little tap dance and joy sprinkled into budding crocuses in the frost tipped ground in front of Juniper’s door. Silence. Then a faint sniffle. “JuJu honey what’s wrong? I promise not to laugh.” “Promise you’ll turn into a bullfrog if you so much as giggle,” Juniper said. “I pinkie promise.” The round ornate door opened slowly on its own. Rowena stepped into her mentee’s underground lair. Carved into a gentle slope hillside, Juniper’s lair was typically pin neat. Today everything was higgledy-piggy. Framed prints askew, spider plant broken on the floor, and her Doris Day vinyls splashed across Juniper’s hi-fi. “Hell’s bells JuJu. Where are you, Honey? It looks like a herd of squirrels through a rave in here.” Rowena surveyed the disarray. An adorable tan squirrel in a bridal gown complete with lace veil and train crept out from beneath the sofa. “Scurry a group of unrelated squirrels is called a scurry. But you never have a group of unrelated squirrels since squirrels are fiercely territorial. A family of squirrels is a dray,” the flocked rodent said with Juniper’s voice. Shimmering Day Glow green, Rowena collapsed into laughter. The bushy tailed creature leapt around in an endearing circle of fury. “Went, Went. You promised!” Rowena wiped the tears from her eyes. She croaked and then snapped her fingers thrice. “Yeah that was a lot. Sorry but you could have warned a witch. Tell me what spell you used this time to try and please someone because you don’t think you’re enough.” “Basic glamour 3A Elphaepha,” Juniper said. “I wanted to be the cutest thing ever but not this.” Her fluffy tail twitched. Goosebumps raised up and down Rowena’s arms. She sniffed the air. “And?” “With a spritz of Love Potion No. 5 behind the ears.” The squirrel hung her head in her darling tiny claws. A heavy swirled wand appeared in the master witch’s fingers. Rowena made a figure eight with her wand. Limb by limb, Juniper transformed back into herself. The twenty-something apprentice sat in crumpled heap of a white wedding dress. Juniper bursted into tears in Rowena’s arms. “Enough of that. When is your date due to arrive?” Juniper popped up and looked at the messy room. “I really did a number of this place. He’ll be here in fifteen.” “All right, I get the room tickety-boo and make myself scarce. Tomorrow we will go over mixing earth spells with selkie enchantments, okay honey. I can tell you you are perfect the way you are but I can’t believe it for you but I will say wearing a wedding dress isn’t the best way to snag a warlock.” With a shriek, Juniper ran to her bedroom, ran back to give her friend a quick hug, and ran back to her bedroom to get dressed. Hand on her hip, Rowena watched her scurry away. With a decisive clap the room became cleaning itself. Rowena took off her curled toed boots and walked home barefooted remembering being young and being young and excited. Pink and scarlet, a folly of geraniums sprouted in every step.

Cast a spell Knowing all too well That things go wrong Same old song

Hocus pocus Lost your focus Eye of newt Oh no, shoot!

That wasn’t right Too dark night Such a bad spell No one can tell

Try once again To forever defend The spells you cast Never last Tessa🦋

"Huh."

After a really quite spectacular symphony of cracks, bangs - and what sounded like tiny screams, - the lilac smoke had cleared. Wafting the magical vapour away from her face, Lilith began to scan the room. Nothing. Everything looked the exact same. The weathered wooden boards that made up the walls, the rusted cauldron bubbling with the revolting elixir she had just mixed. Even all the crooked and warped furniture remained in their same haggard form. It seemed, as usual, the spell had just been all smoke and no fire once again.

Hours of her time spent brewing this elixir, so deciding to take a break from her fruitless endeavours, Lilith slumped her shoulders and walked solemnly to the front door. These cursed spells! They never worked as she wanted them to. In 8 long years of being a witch she'd never even once managed to get one right. Graceful Mable down the dirt path though, oh she managed just fine didn't she, for someone who started witchcraft a year ago?

Lilith wrapped her gangly fingers around the faded copper doorknob, and began the not-so-magical ritual of ramming it repeatedly with her bony shoulders. She truly believed that even if she harnessed all of the magic in the world, even if she was the most unconceivably powerful sorceress in every dimension, this door would still stick and require three well placed shoulder barges to open.

One. Two and - three!

"Huh."

After the usual three thumps, the door remained jammed shut. Lilith's heart began to beat just that little bit faster. Could her spell of actually done something? She quickly tried to dismiss the idea as to not get too excited - It's an old door, and the jam had probably just gotten worse as the crooked cottage deteriorated.

Once she had banished her excitement, she prepared for another three bashes.

One. Tw-

Lilith went barrelling through the crusty door and found herself sprawled onto her porch. As she stood to regain her composure and looked out into her front garden she noticed something really quite peculiar.

It wasn't there.

In fact, what was there was a unfathomably vast magenta vortex swirling at break neck speeds in its place. Lilith became suddenly very aware of the fact her cottage was also being flung around the vortex like a cow in a tornado and desperately grabbed the nearest porch pillar to cling to. Surely this wasn't her? She marvelled at the idea she had managed to create such an magnificent result with her elixir, but the fact she had never managed to even conjure a moss goblin before cast doubt on the idea.

She stared into the swirling abyss and couldn't help but admire the vortex for a short while longer. Trees, now twisted and pulsating with energy whizzed past the cottage so fast she could barely see them. Occasionally, some ethereal entity would pass by, seemingly unaffected and oblivious by the swirling magic and on its way to destination unknowable. Deep into the cortex, what looked like a violent lightning storm raged ceaselessly.

Suddenly, hurtling toward her and gutturally screaming, a small figure slowly began to come into view. Squinting, Lilith saw it was the now quite graceless figure of Mable. Lilith couldn't help but let out an ecstatic and wicked cackle at the flailing figure of Mable being launched violently through a magical vortex of - what very well could be - her own creation. The screaming grew louder and more hysterical until suddenly Mable smashed straight through one of the porch pillars, sending splinters everywhere as she crashed onto the hard wooden floor. Mable lay there groaning as Lilith looked over the crumpled mess that now decorated her porch.

"Huh."

The witch grabbed the frog leg and threw it ito the pot, the pot exploded into black smoke and covered the witch

Staring up at her husband’s face, Millie couldn’t help but grin back. His eyes bright, full of love and admiration, showed back at her. It was just a Tuesday morning, but every morning, he was delighted to see her. He’d greet her in the kitchen with a French-pressed brewed cup of coffee with half and half, just as she’d always liked it, kiss her lightly on the lips, and proceed to eat his breakfast. Fifteen years ago, he would have asked her what she wanted for breakfast, offering pancakes, bacon, eggs, and stuffed French toast, but he quickly learned that coffee was enough for her at least until later in the day. It was their fifteenth anniversary and even though their hair had peeks of silver and age lightly touched their faces, the chemistry between them was still just as bonding as on day one. Some people could even sense it, noticing the energy of their bond as they walked into a room, they’d turn their heads and stare for a long while before forgetting their potential rudeness. “Good morning, my love,” said Mille, as she took her first sip of coffee. “Good morning, my love,” Finn replied, taking a bite of his scrambled eggs. He always liked them with cheese. “Have you planned anything special for today?” Millie asked, peering over her coffee mug, steam rising and fogging up her glasses. She had never performed a spell to correct her vision. She had thought about it many times, but for some reason it felt, ironically, like cheating. With a big grin across his face, he replied impishly, “You’ll just have to wait until after I get home from work.” "Well then," Millie said as she pushed the small dining chair back and stood up to grab another cup of coffee, "I guess that means you'll have to wait too." Looking back at Finn, she winked at him, aware of her posture as she poured her second cup. She could feel his eyes on her body while she wasn't looking. She didn't know sexual attraction was part of the spell when she first cast it. Walking back to her original seat Finn lightly smacked her bottom, making her let out a small squeal. She giggled as she hurriedly sat down. She couldn't help but love him. He was handsome, intelligent, kind, respectful, things that couldn't be created from a spell. But he was crazy about her. She could never deny that. It wasn't mutual at first, but he kept coming around, talking to her , getting to know her, listening to what she had to say, her interests, her dreams, and her needs. He paid attention to her hidden features, the ones she didn't even know she had. Slowly, she began to notice the same features in him, learning his personality, the one she didn't create with the spell. Millie believed the universe had its own way of solving things, bringing manifestations and positive energies into fruition, but she hadn't expected this over fifteen years ago. A year and a half of learning about each other, learning to love him, she finally agreed to marry him. He had asked multiple times, but she wanted to return his love fully, unconditionally, without a thought of anyone else in her mind, before she agreed. Playfully, she'd tell him it was too soon. When they were finally married, he was elated, practically floating however, that could have been Millie's doing. Finn stood up from the table, taking his plate and fork to the sink, rinsing them and doing the same with the frying pan. Preparing to leave for work, he walked over to Millie and softly took her hand, kissed it, kissed her lips lightly, and then her hand again. "Happy Anniversary, my beautiful wife. I'll see you this evening. I love you," Finn said as he stood back up. As he walked to the door, Millie replied, "Happy Anniversary, sweet husband. I love you." Smiling at the door after he had closed it, she thought to herself, "and to think, the spell was meant for his brother. Thank the gods he got in the way."