I'm greeted by the occasional glance from the door warlock, who directs me to the dome. As we walk towards the dome, I hear all the other witchlings practicing all the lower-grade spells and brews with cute cackles and shouts. I remember the brewing room 507 the best; that was where I had completed my first brew for my flower-growing spell. I lost my memory of making brews when Warlock, who escorted me to the dome, gave me a slight pat on the back for good luck and pushes me toward the dome door.
Just as I open the door to the dome, Mr. Swethent's voice echoes around. "Sholom miss Wardwell. Are you ready for the levitation spell today?"
"Yes, yes, I am," I say, feeling as though I have so much power saying so.
"Very well, then let's get started, shall we?" Mr. Swethent replies in a modest tone.
Mr. Swethent walks into a broom closet and comes out with three giant mats following behind him to put in the center of the room as I set my spell bag down and take out my book to practice the chant for the spell. I stoop down to my spell bag and put my book back. I turned to meet Mr. Swethent in the center of the room, but he was right beside me. With a startled expression, I take a step back and wait for instructions.
"Are you ready, Miss Wardwell?" He asks, not waiting for an answer he turns to the mats and instructs me "Spells are all about the posture and power you hold within the words," "You must always be ready for a change in the environment," he adds.
I stand by the mats, nodding as if I hadn't learned the basics already from Muder.
"Now stand on top of those mats," Mr. Swethent commands.
I do as he says and move atop the mats and wait.
"Posture, feet apart, you aren't a twig, are you?" Mr. Swethent says, adjusting me as though I were a doll to his game.
"Lastly, you must have power in your chant. You have to say the chant and mean it," Mr. Swethent remarks as if he were back to his first lesson.
"Now try the chant," he asserts.
"Wingardium Leviosa!" I shouted, expecting to be at the ceiling looking upon Mr. Swethent.
Instead, I'm met with the gaze of Mr. Swethent.
"Again, miss Wardwell." Mr. Swethent assures.
"Wingardium Levi-," I'm interrupted by Mr. Swethent.
"Posture and authority. Two things, Miss Wardwell, not that hard if I say so myself," Mr. Swethent says in spite of me failing.
"Again, miss Wardwell." Mr. Swethent demands.
"Wingardium Leviosa," I chant, trying to focus and zone everything else out. WHOOSH. I'd fallen at least 5 pous above the ground.
"Again, miss Wardwell," says Mr. Swethent in a rather rude tone than usual as I fixed my overalls and positioned myself.
Today marks the 15th time of me failing the levitation spell, but I plan to make it the last, I hope.
Mr. Swethent interrupts me from mentally marking the 15th time with an annoyed, "Miss Wardwell, let's have another go, shall you?"
I nod and recite the chant.
"Wingardium Leviosa," I say with a forceful tone. "Wingardium Leviosa," I added. "Wingardium Leviosa," I chanted until I felt as light as a feather.
I had only opened my eyes when I felt as light as a feather, only to realize I'd floated up to the glass dome bumping my head. I look around to see so many wonders atop the building's garden. Whilst looking around, I could even see Mrs. Dontim as she walked her son to get a new wand at Sticks of Power. I also saw the brewing shop across the street opening with the stern face of Mr. Jetox. As I hovered over the ground, I could hear Mr. Swethent banter with someone down the hall toward the entrance of the dome. I can't quite make out the words, but I don't bother to have any interest in it. I'm too mesmerized by the sight of the town and scenery to notice I'm being summoned.
"Evelyn Jade Wardwell?" An unfamiliar voice calls out, breaking my concentration and mesmerization by the view I let out a shriek and start to fall.
I suppose Mr. Swethent had already been speed walking down the hall with the stranger because a sudden rush of footsteps followed by what sounded like a mat was met with the thud of me landing on the pad.
"Ow!" I vaguely drawled out.
"Very nice job with the levitating spell, Miss Wardwell," exclaims the stranger.
"Ah yes, well, I suppose you did well," Mr. Swethent says sarcastically, pointing out the fact that I had just fallen about 15 pous.
A slight giggle rises in my stomach and then drops when my eyes meet the stranger. It was the messenger. Muder told me I would be sent a letter but never by whom or when. Mr. Swethent offered me a hand and up, and as I took it, the messenger scavenged through his satchel. I pass a subtle glance at his satchel, noticing a very peculiar letter with Mr. Persephone's name is written in a rather messy handwriting with a deep blood red ink. I started to read where it came from but stopped when the messenger handed me my letter. I quickly bowed with my thanks and walked over to my spell bag to slip the letter in, keeping the image of Mr. Persephone's name is in the serene color of red. With a nod to me and Mr. Swethent, the messenger dismisses himself from the dome.
Mr. Swethent walks over to me and implies, "Miss Wardwell, you did well today, though I am afraid you will need more practice on slowly getting yourself back to the ground. I suggest you go back to your hut and rest from your fall and study. Though we shall continue the levitation spell tomorrow."
"Oh yes, I do think that would be best. See you next day, Sir Swethent," I reply, leaning down to get my spell bag.
I walk out of the glass doors, feeling kiddish. I had actually cast the levitation spell! I start to skip down the street, holding my hat atop my throbbing head.
Muder is in the abode, so I strutted to my tree fort and met Jadestorm, who had been asleep in the cot when I opened the door. So, I softly set my spell bag down along with my hat. I made my way to the bed and gave Jadestorm a slight scratch behind the ear before continuing to the desk. As I grab my journal, I hear a muttered purr followed by the soft pitter-patter clip of Jadestorm's paws pressing against the wooden floor with his claws slightly scratching as he walks dazed from his nap toward me.
"Oh Jadestorm, do you ever think I could master all the spells? Hmm, sweet thing?" I ask Jadestorm as I pick him up into my lap.
Meeral
"Very well then. I'll do my cursed hutwork," I answered.
I pick up my spell journal along with my feather and start to rewrite all the spells and chant them in my head. I dip the dusky feather into the fantasy of a black hole of ink. I started to scribble down the levitation spell along with the cloning spell, playing back both times I had achieved them in my head. After what had felt like a coon's age of writing and chanting, I had started to ponder the envelope I had seen in the messenger's satchel. It was for Quintin's apa, which had only made me more meddlesome. Though Quintin doesn't speak of his Apa he's never told me why even though he knows why we never speak of mine. Muder has always told me Apa was a terrible Warlock, I do however contemplate what he might be like if he were to be here. Nevertheless, Muder begiths of me not to and I never question. I am cut short of my thoughts when I hear Jadestorm make an unusual noise alerting me that someone is nearby.
ns 15.158.61.23da2
