The sun suffocates and the ground sinks, all of my thoughts I could ever think are suddenly evaporated, like every drop of water in this place. My mom promised we’d find a better place. She died before we could. We had two backpacks full of water bottles, it wasn’t dehydration. We rested often, and we brought enough food, it wasn’t starvation. A thick cloud of dust engulfed her. She disappeared, and she wasn’t coming back. I knelt down and cried. The salty tears reached my mouth and I was forced to spit all of the salt I had curated. She left me alone. She promised me she wouldn’t. She said we could make it, just the two of us. She promised me, she promised me, she promised- “Ma’am, are you ok?” I look up from my daydream and nod. “It seems you’re struggling. I think we need to prescribe something.” She waits for a response, but I don’t give her one. She sighs. “I’m sorry, I really am, but I can’t help you if you don’t try.” I say nothing. “I know your mother’s passing-” I look up at her sternly, and she stops talking. “I’ll see you next week.”

I lay in my bed. I watched too many heartbreaking news stories that I can’t do anything about. The pills aren’t doing anything, and I’ve contemplated things that I mustn’t one too many times. I suppose my mother never meant to leave me. Cancer isn’t really one’s best friend. But it doesn’t matter. She’s gone nonetheless. I try to move on, but it’s hard. Especially since it’s only been a few weeks. I often ask myself what the point is, and I can never find an answer. Everyone berates you with the idea that there’s always a point, but they fail to give an explanation as to why.

My mom always wanted me to go to college. I did it to make her happy. But she’s not here. Why am I doing this for her if she can’t even see it? I don’t know. . I just can’t bring myself to leave.

Still here. It’s super boring, don’t worry.

I met someone today. Maybe I can live for him.

I think I understand it now. Living isn’t for yourself, it’s for others. To brighten other people’s lives, not your own. And if you don’t have anyone, find someone. There will always be someone looking for love. It’s been hard for me, but I think I’ve finally begun to heal. And I’ve got a job, kudos to me.

When I look up and see the billowing cloud of smoke on the horizon, tears are falling from my eyes before I can stop them. Hope flares in my chest.

My city has been under siege for over a fortnight. I’ve almost completely depleted my magic every day, trying any and everything I can to keep my people safe. There’s been more causalities than I will ever be able to forgive myself for. My father used to say, “Heavy is the head who wears the crown.” I never fully understood what he meant until now.

Sending the missive to the King of Kerrigan requesting aid was a last ditch effort. I didn’t think that I would receive a response, much less any help. The king hates me and everything that I stand for and I feel similarly about him, but I had no other choice. I’m very cognizant that this aid will cost me something, but there’s almost nothing that I wouldn’t give Ferris right now.

I’m standing on the balcony that is attached to my quarters, watching the cloud of smoke get larger and larger when I see men start to walk out of the smoke. It starts with just a few but the longer I watch the more appear. More and more and more. I try to count them but so many start pouring out that I can’t keep up. My best guess is at least 2,000. All soldiers, if the fighting leathers and weapons strapped to waists, backs, and chests, are any indication. More tears fall onto my face as I watch. This changes everything.

I’m lost in my own thoughts when a knock on the door of my chambers brings me out of my head. I sigh and say, “Come in.” A young messenger opens the door and he bows immediately. “Your Highness, your advisers wish to meet with you immediately.” He says, head still bowed.

I saw this coming. They are probably very confused, since I didn’t inform them that I asked Ferris for help. They would have tried to talk me out of it. Maybe I should have let them. I sigh again, “Tell them I’ll meet them in the throne room in 10 minutes.” The boy nods and leaves as quickly as he came.

Really I could have met with the advisers in about 3 minutes but I need a few more moments to get my thoughts together. Once I feel like I’m ready, I start toward the door of my chambers. I open the door, and almost right into the same messenger from a few minutes ago. He looks even more nervous than before, if that’s possible. He, again, bows his head. I hate that. I am not my father and I don’t demand respect from anyone. I want to earn it.

“Y-your Highness, the King of Kerrigan has requested a meeting with you.” He stammers out. Internally, I sigh again. I was hoping to tell my council before I had to meet with Ferris.

“Tell the council that they will have to wait. I must meet with the King.” The messenger nods and leaves again. I already know where the King will be. My private study is the only place we’ve ever met. We spent many nights, long ago, drinking my kingdoms best whiskey and talking until the sun began to rise. That was before I became Queen and had to choose duty over any kind of romantic connection. I don’t spend much time in my study anymore because of the memories attached to it. One of the last times I visited it was when I met Ferris to tell him that I was getting married. It seems that I made the wrong decision in getting married to Merrick because he is now the one who is attacking my kingdom. It was my fathers idea so I should have known that it was not going to benefit me. Thinking of Merrick made me nauseous then and does even more so now.

I make my way towards the study and I swear I can feel Ferris’ presence before I even enter the room. We haven’t spoken since our last fateful encounter in this room. I wonder if he is thinking about it too. Part of me hopes that he is, another part prays that he isn’t.

The door knob squeaks when I open it, giving away my presence. As I push the door open I see Ferris’ head snap up. We make eye contact. He is just as beautiful as he was the last time that I saw him. Long, dark hair falling right above broad shoulders. His dark eyes are unreadable but burn with an intensity that I once knew. I am bombarded by memories of him sitting in that exact chair. Some involving various states of undress. Fighting to keep the blush from my face, I dip my head towards him in acknowledgment. If he is the same man I knew, he won’t speak first. “Your Majesty,” I start, struggling to keep my voice even. “I didn’t expect for you to respond to my letter. But I’m glad that you’re here.”

I see something that looks like amusement flash across his face before he responds, “I wouldn’t be too glad yet, princess.” I open my mouth to correct him. I may have been a princess the last time we spoke but I am now a queen. Before I can get that out, a smirk crawls onto Ferris’ face. “My apologies. You are no longer a princess are you, Jianna?”

“I am not.” I grit out. I should have known that he would try to get under my skin. I could have better prepared myself. “I would like to address why you’re here, if we could. I know you want as little interaction with me as possible, Ferris.”

“Always so direct.” He’s still smirking. “I do appreciate that about you. One doesn’t have to wonder where they stand with you, unless they are romantically involved with you of course.” He’s trying bait me. I won’t bite. Instead, I ignore his comment and push the conversation forward.

“What do you want in exchange for your aid?” I ask. I’m almost afraid of the answer. I’m desperate and I have so much to lose.

Ferris sighs dramatically. I try not to roll my eyes. This conversation could really do without the theatrics.

“Nothing you’re able to give me, love.”, he says. The old pet name sends a shiver down my spine. He’s trying his best to throw me off and it’s starting to work.

“Don’t call me that.” I snap. I don’t have time for the games. My people are dying. My kingdom is in shambles. “I don’t know why you came if you were just going to waste my time.” I shouldn’t have gotten my hopes up. My mind starts to spin with other ways I can save my home.

“I didn’t intend to waste your time. There are laws in place that keep you from giving me what I want.” He says, he almost sounds sad but that isn’t possible.

“Ferris, what are you talking about?” Whatever laws there are can be changed. I, quite literally, make them.

He pauses and looks at me. There’s a war happening in the depths of his gaze. We just stand, looking at each other for a few moments. I watch one decision triumph over another right before he speaks.

“Jianna, you can only be married to one person at a time.” He states, matter of factly.

A stone sinks to the bottom of my stomach. The topic of marriage makes me break out in a cold sweat. I was once married. I am not any longer. I divorced Merrick the first time that he tried to raise his fist at me. It wasn’t even a year after we were married. I assumed everyone on the continent knew about the only queen in our history to divorce her husband.

I swallow hard, “I am well aware of that but I am no longer married.” The memories of my short marriage and the aftermath spin round and round in my head. Nor one them a pleasant.

Ferris goes completely still. “What do you mean?” He asks.

“I believe I was rather clear. I am not married. I thought everyone in the world was privy to the details of my divorce.” I say through gritted teeth. Reliving some of the worst days of my life was not how I imagined this conversation going.

“I was not aware. I apologize.” Ferris says with a dip of his head. “I banned anyone in my circle from speaking of you.” He admits.

I shouldn’t be shocked. He was furious when I told him I was engaged to Merrick. Still, it catches me by surprise. I don’t respond right away so Ferris continues.

“In that case, you may be able to give me what I came for.” He’s now smirking again. I prepare myself for whatever comes next. “Marry me, Jianna. That is all I ask in return for the aid you need.”

No amount to preparing could save me from the feeling of the floor falling from under my feet at his request.

“You’re not serious.” Is the only thing that I can come up with because he can’t possibly be. Can he?

“I’m deadly serious.” He says. The smirk is gone and has been replaced by a look of earnesty.

“Of all the things that you could ask of me? Money, weapons, magic. And you want my hand?” I laugh at the ridiculousness of it all. “I came into this meeting prepared to give you one or all all of those things. But marriage? I don’t know if I can do that.” As soon as it’s out of my mouth I curse myself. How selfish can one person be? There are people dying and my only concern is my feelings. Self hatred hits me like a fist straight in the chest.

Ferris looks like he expected my response. “Ji, I understand your reservations. I do. But this will benefit us both.” No one has called me Ji in years. Logically, I know that all of this could be a manipulation tactic. Using our past to coax me into doing whatever he wishes. My heart flutters anyways.

A marriage would mean an end to this siege. His armies are the strongest on the continent. They have some of the most powerful magic weilders in the entire world. The trade would allow the economy to flourish. It would usher in a new era of prosperity.

I close my eyes. I know what needs to be done. My heart is the only thing that will be caught in the crossfire of this proposed marriage. Duty has driven my entire life and duty drives my decision now.

“I know. I’ll do it.” I want to cry as I say it, I can’t tell if the tears would be happy or sad. “I’ll do it.” I repeat, cementing the decision.

She stood in the field watching the horizon with wide eyes, mouth agape. The umbrella she had been holding overhead just moments before falls to the ground at her feet. Without a second thought, she grabs a fistful of her skirt and runs toward the plume of purple smoke rising in the sky. Her heart pounds in her chest as she wills her legs to move faster. The smoke looks like it’s coming from the village.

“How did this happen?” she thinks as she runs, “I was so careful.”

The smoke burns her throat and tears sting her eyes as she approaches the edge of the village. She dashes past the sentry shack and turns down the first road. The air is thick with pungent smoke and stains her rain soaked cheeks gray. She passes people without really seeing them, her thoughts focused on only one thing. She hasn’t prayed in years, not since joining the Warren, but she finds her old prayers running through her mind and tumbling off her tongue just the same.

“Rox!” Someone calls her name, breaking her focus momentarily, but she doesn’t stop. She runs past the smithy, past the tanner, toward the school.

“Surely the teachers have gotten everyone to safety,” she thinks to herself as the outline of the old gray building begins to reveal itself through the heavy haze. She can’t tell if the smoke is coming from the building itself or somewhere behind it, but it definitely seems thicker here. When she reaches the old front door she grabs the iron ring and pulls it open. A huge cloud of smoke billows out and fills her lungs, choking her.

“What have I done?” She sputters between coughs. Pulling her shirt up to cover her mouth and nose, she puts her other hand forward desperately seeking anything solid. The smoke is too thick to see but a few inches all around. She knows these halls well, having only been out of school for two years, but somehow the thick smoke has stolen her sense of direction. Clambering down the hall she makes for the year one classroom.

“Ama!” She tries to shout though it sounds muffled through the fabric covering her mouth. “Ama!” Her sisters name seems lost as soon as it hits the smoke, curling up to the ceiling, seeking a way out. Hurling herself through what she thinks is the door to the year one classroom, she finds herself in a room with less smoke, but no people. Her eyes dart around the room as she takes a moment to lean against the closed door and catch her breath.

It’s not the year one classroom, it looks like year three from the encantations she can make out on the wall: the spells are a bit too complex for year ones. “I must have missed a door,” Rox thinks as she pulls her shirt back up over her nose and prepares to go back out into the smoke filled hallway. She stands there for a moment with her hand on the door knob, deciding which way to go. Her eyes fall upon a parchment on the desk in the corner. On it is a picture of a silver ring with a long trailing line.

“Yes!” I hiss as the idea takes root in my mind. “I’ll use an incantation.”

Technically this incantation is meant for lost things, like a toy or bracelet or book, but perhaps it could work for this too. I move toward the window where the air is clearer and try to still my pounding heart and focus my wandering mind. I take a few deep breaths focusing on my sharp, alert inhale and the release of my heavy, relaxing exhale. Within a moment I notice the color behind my eyes is turning a deep indigo and feel ready to start.

I envision in my minds eye a silver circle, made of thick cord, with a long line connected to the center of my chest. I see my sister Ama in the center of the circle and the cord tightening around her, pinning her arms to her side. I then begin to pull the cord toward me, slowly at first to see if it’s working. I can feel resistance pulling against my chest and a flutter of excitement fills my stomach, “I think this will work!”

I continue to slowly pull my sister toward me in my minds eye and begin to repeat out loud, “as the silver circle binds, what was lost my heart now finds.” The resistance in my chest increases as I continue to slowly pull her towards me. I’m trying to focus on the vision and the incantation, but the smoke is getting thicker in the classroom and it’s getting harder to breathe. It’s breaking my concentration and I watch as the silver cord starts to slip farther away, and my sister with it. The tension in my chest is releasing too, and I know I’m losing it. Spellbinding only works with singular focus, concentrated vision, and consistent chanting (some even require a specific pitch or lilt when repeated.) If any of those things are out of balance, the consequences could be terrible.

I’m frustrated because at this point, I can do some spells in my sleep. I mean that quite literally, as I had been woken up more than once to the wind bursting through my windows and tearing through the room like a tornado, because I had summoned it in my sleep. It seems I could do more damage without even thinking than I had realized. This fire was my fault; I was the reason Ama was in danger. All because I had snuck out of the village to try and burn that memory from my mind.

I really had only been trying to burn the memory away, nothing more. I hadn’t realized when my focus slipped and my vision shifted, even for just a moment, that I could cause something like this to happen. Instead of burning the memory, I seem to have burned my village. Blinking away these thoughts, I immediately realize that I have to get to a place where I can focus on the spell and on finding Ama. I quickly resolve to head back outside toward the surrounding woods.

Hitching my shirt back over my nose, I open the door and run out into the hallway and head back the way I came. It would be the shortest way out. Once out the front door, I immediately make for the woods just a few rounds over. My breath is ragged and I’m coughing through the still thick smoke. Passing houses, carts, and horses hitched to fence posts, I quickly find myself at the edge of the rounds and at the foot of the forest.

I dive head first down the path and make for one my favorite spots. My true favorite is much deeper within the trees, but I don’t have time to waste so I make for a closer haunt. It take me a moment to realize the smoke hasn’t breached the trees and I am breathing fresh air again. It’s a relief to my ash sodden lungs and raw throat. My eyes are blurry with tears, but I don’t dare wipe them for fear of rubbing ash into my eyes. Blinking them away, I see the tell tale spruce tree with the darkest green needles I’ve ever seen and know I’m close.

Dashing into the hollow of a nearby tree, I quickly fold my legs, straighten my back and take a deep breath. My mind is racing, but I’m able to quickly push all the noise to the background and ground myself in the smell of the spruce and pine trees around me, the loamy earthiness of the forest floor, and the symphony of sounds in and around the trees. It’s familiar, comforting, and easy to settle down in.

The indigo swirls behind my eyes and I bring the silver cord back into mind. Reaching out from the center of my chest, it encircles my sister and I mentally tighten the cord around her arms. I give the cord a gentle tug and feel the tightness in my chest. **“As the silver circle binds, what was lost my heart now finds… as the silver circle binds, what was lost my heart now finds…” **

**I’m chanting, I’m focused, the vision is clear. Ama is moving closer and closer. When she gets close enough, I reach out my hand to touch her and watch as the vision fades away. Still as can be, I wait for the flash. When it comes, a bright white light bursts behind my eyelids. As the fireball clears, I see Ana again, this time she is curled up in her bed, covered in soot, crying with her head in hands. **

It worked! The spell had worked! It had shown me where Ama was and she was safe at home. I jumped up and raced out of the forest, relief flooding down my body like the rain with each step. I’m smiling and crying and still coughing up ash as I reach the forest edge and head into the rounds.

Our little house is toward the back of the village and there is a well worn short cut that my feet automatically follow. The roiling sick in my stomach won’t subside until I see her face and feel her in my arms. She’s all I have and even the thought of losing her has my dry heaving as I weave through the village. The smoke is still thick, but I’m nearing the house.

**As I run up the path I see the door is slightly ajar and burst in. “Ama!” I shout as I take the final steps into the room we both share. She bolts upright, covered in soot with tears streaking down her cheeks. She is sobbing as I gather her small body into my arms and pull her into my chest. **

**“Are you ok? Are you hurt? I’m so sorry, Ama. I don’t even know what happened.” I’m blubbering and the words are tumbling out of my mouth too fast to catch. I push her out to arms length to better take in her face and look for injuries. **

Her whole body is shaking as she continues to cry, but she looks ok in the surface. I stroke her face and hair and try to soothe her enough to speak.

**“Are you ok?” I ask again when the shaking subsides to less frequent twinges. **

“Yes, I’m ok. I’m not hurt. I was just so scared when I couldn’t find you. I thought you were dead,” she says with hitched breath.

**“I’m not dead. I’m ok too and I’m right here,” I console her. “Do we know what caught fire?” **

The sobs wrack her tiny body again so I pull her close and hold her tight. I’m rocking her slightly when she finally grips my arm, looks me straight in the eye and breathes, “the church, Rox. The church burned.”

**I go still as a statue, my mouth drops, and my arms go slack. I immediately turn away from Ama and wretch on the floor. I had burned the church. My fathers church. The last place I had seen him alive. **

Ah, It was breathtaking, the purple mist felt like a warm embrace, making the thoughts of a painful death in vain.

What perfect way to die…there were no screams nor a feeling of terror coming from my body, my job is done. So then I shall get the slumber I’ve been waiting for.

(Mediocre ahhh writing 🙏😭)

The trouble storms on the open field, dark greyish clouds eagerly covering the forest top. A flock of birds flies above me, with great intentions of leaving quite soon, As the sky slowly but surely growls at the earth's ground like it has something we don't know of. Just as that thought held, a light struck the ground a few feet from me. With such force the lighting had, I was knocked back from the blow. I yelled as my purple umbrella went flying out of my hand landing in a puddle near me. I sighed, frustrated however that emotion soon died down as a light emitted from the tall greenish grass.

I assume it was the cause of the lightning strike but the smoke smelt unusual. It's not the electrical burning of what seems to be for this specific lighting. No, it's much more different from the smoke turning purple! I sit up to look at this astounding view, the purple smoke has brought light to the area. Sparkles appear here and there as if it's healing the ground of some sort. I was too caught up with the sparkling particles sprouting from the smoke to even notice it had attached itself to me. Until I left one landed on the bridge of my glasses. A weird sensation ran throughout my body as the purple smoke began to grow into a massive size.

With haste, I get up and grab my umbrella from the sad wet puddle. Shaking it as the droplets fall off it, the wind picks up speed. The purple smoke is now everywhere around me, I seem to see an exit. Am I trapped in this magic storm? Wait I don't even know if it's even a storm or not. I couldn't wrap my mind around what was happening to me, with thoughts mangling my whole existence I couldn't figure out what to do. So I just let it take me somewhere I'll be safe. Anything, with the swirling smoke around me, it began to close in on me. Before I know it, I'm floating with my grip still on my umbrella. The smoke moved, traveling with me in it as if I wasn't a mere human.

The top of the purple smoke opened up to a shining light and I looked away. But the wind pushed me upwards to the light, a speed that led me to scream as I was thrown out. I closed my eyes since I didn't know if I was going to perish or live. But I felt nothing, so I looked and gasped. The landscape was extremely different from the one I stood on before. the sky was clear of clouds, the bluest blue I've ever encountered in my life in Mapleville. the flowers, grass, and everything else were so exquisite that I was left speechless. My umbrella had led me down to the ground. The dark soaked wet clothing contrasted the vibrant setting, minus my purple umbrella. Turning back to the smoke that led me here, I nodded. A sigh of thankfulness, the smoke seemed to like it as it swizzled up into the blue sky.

Light purple sparkles danced around the field. I giggled as I held out my hand to catch some. I then swerve to see a distant city that looks like a castle. Or maybe I'm imagining such things but my umbrella had this strange shaking that I couldn't describe. I held it out to see the problem; purple speckles coated it and it formed into it like the magic was in my umbrella! This couldn't take me to that kingdom that I saw before. But it'll take great time for me to master this whole magic thing all alone. I sigh, looking at the distant kingdom with wonder. I began walking down the hill, with my umbrella in hand. I hope this wasn't some mistake the purple smoke brought upon me.

Is it a storm Could it be magic Or maybe hope Some don’t know Some speculate But I’m ready for the worst The path is tender as I walk toward Ready to be alone for once It looks a storm is coming toward

But what of the mist What does it contain For once I can’t put it In awe I go again Wondering is this like a soul The storm The magic The hope It feels like a person inside But who is that person As the walk makes me go closer It feels like me Then relize the tempest in the storm Is it my soul pleading for help To be let go And as I want to be free I agree

It is beautiful, dark, mysterious magic. It is there to reimagine your life. It will draw you in and it will foster a sense of familiarity all while creating a fantasy that will never come to furition. It will show you what life could be. It will remaster and redesign your reality. It will take you to places you’ve only dreamed of. It will leave you feeling renewed. It will take a piece of you and in return you will know what life with magic feels like. You will never forget what it has given you. Even when you’re old and grey, you will remember what it felt like. What it was. What magic is.

With hesitation, she travels towards the fuming violet cloud. The air is dense as it becomes poluted with dark cosmic exhaust. Curious as to its origins, the smoke’s scent of burning charcoal and rotten rodent bodies reminds her of own innocent attempts at practicing magic—changing her morning bowl of oatmeal into ice cream, or her worn-out heels into hiking boots.

Was someone calling for her? Purple smoke is the signature she leaves behind on all her transmogrification spells. She doesn’t intend to, but she hasn’t honed her skills yet to be able to conjure or cast without leaving such an obvious trace. This was clearly and obvious signal— was it meant for her? Or was there another underexperienced witch practicing faulty magic? Whoever it was, they’ve got her attention.

And there it was, breaking the pattern of rolling hills, a purple cloud erupting from the ground. As if a massive campfire had been lit. Stephan was waving his hands in a swirly motion. I couldn’t quite make out what made it repetitive, yet it somehow made sense. It’s what I had done for years. Embracing the natural flow my body wanted to move in. I could tell he was doing the exact same thing right here. Though, my movements never made this appear. The smoke-like, I guess “Magic”, kept growing as it started reaching for the stars. It looked so powerful, though it was peaceful in its movement. I asked myself why he took me here, why he decided to show me this. I wanted to ask, but one look at him and it was clear to me that he was in a state where he wouldn’t even hear my question. The cloud reached for us. In a matter of seconds we were embraced in the eye of a purple, hazy storm. Once fully enveloped, Stephan raised his arms towards the sky and start swirling. Slowly but surely the cloud started moving in a counter clockwise direction. Then, suddenly, he stopped. The cloud kept its momentum and Stephan turned towards me. He layed both of his hands in mine. “This. This right here is what I want to teach you. It will bring you so much farther in life than you would have ever expected.” He said. “Is that a promise?” I asked in return as my eyes locked in with his. “It’s a promise.” Stephan said. As soon as he spoke those words, I could see the purple cloud be eaten by the ground. Bringing back the backdrop of rolling hills, and bringing us back to the world of where there are more than just the two of us.

A storm is rolling in Over the forest of pine A storm of malice and of hate One lone witch stands to fight The others had gone long ago Some had fought and died Others ran away So she must be the one to save Fighting the storm with her own One of love and care Though she keeps the storm at bay But it festers in some hearts We can help her fight the storm By believing in her course By loving others And caring for them Though we can never win We can fight the fight And see a better day