First Witch's Tale

The thought haunted me as I slept, ate my breakfast, then practised my moves until the evening, when Master Falladine arrived to escort me to the hall. I felt butterflies in my stomach as I walked down and into the chamber, catching sight of Cemburu on the other side of the room. Bernard spoke briefly to the pair of us, giving Cemburu a chance to retract his statement – his lie and me a chance to retract my challenge, then drew a circle on the floor and invited us to enter. Cemburu smirked at me as Bernard counted down, then raised his wand and cast the first spell. He’d clearly been practising. I felt a flicker of envy. He had friends who could help him master his magic.

But I had a proper teacher, I reminded myself. And he taught me well.

We traded spell after spell for what felt like hours. I kicked myself, mentally, for not eating as much as I should before being escorted to the hall. I hadn’t been able to eat properly and yet I was going to pay for it now. Cemburu was a challenging opponent, not least because it was very difficult to determine what he would do. Master Falladine was an experienced magician who would always go for the knockout blow, whereas Cemburu lacked his experience and often missed opportunities to win. And yet, as we traded spells, I felt myself getting worn down. I could see sweat on his forehead. It was turning into an endurance contest and I doubted I could win.

I gritted my teeth and hold a set of charms at him, using them to cover a spell that should have disarmed him. It wouldn’t guarantee victory, but it would cripple him long enough for me to land the final blow. Instead, he jumped to one side, dodging the spells I aimed and tossing back a spell of his own. It struck me hard, knocking me over and sending my wand flying into the distance. Cemburu laughed - the crowd hooted - and advanced threateningly, dragging out the moment of victory as long as he could. I shaped a spell in my mind – wandless casting finally making a degree of sense - and blasted him as he loomed over me. Cemburu stumbled backwards and collapsed as I staggered to my feet. The urge to just kick him in the groin was overpowering, but I resisted. It would be counted as cheating. Instead, I picked up his wand and stunned him. The crowd went wild.

“Congratulations on your victory,” Bernard said. He sounded genuinely pleased. His gamble of allowing me to study at the school had paid off. After this, I was sure, no one would question my right to be a student. “We will feast in your honour.”

Master Falladine picked up my wand and held it out to me as another tutor, one I didn’t recognise, levitated Cemburu out of the hall. “You did well,” he said, “but don’t get overconfident. The next challenger will be a great deal harder.”

I nodded in understanding. I had passed through the first hurdle, but there were more.

A lot more.

Chapter Six

The next few weeks were the happiest of my life.

It felt as if everyone wanted to be my friend. Or my adviser. Or even friendly rival. My peers finally accepted me as one of them, while the upper students stopped pretending I didn’t exist when they saw me. This wasn’t wholly a good thing. I had previously been spared the older students using me as a servant, unlike my peers, but now they ordered me around as much as the rest. The other students grumbled about being used for labour, yet I didn’t really mind. It was proof I had been accepted, and it was also a great deal easier than life on the farm. I didn’t point that out to them. I didn’t want them thinking about harder tasks for me and my peers.

I had never really had anyone to talk to about magic, save for Hilde, and much of her advice had been confusing or contradictory. Now, I had students from a range of backgrounds who could tell me everything I needed to know and discuss magical theories with me. I practised my spells with the boys, who seem to have decided I was an honorary boy rather than a girl. Master Falladine told me, when I pointed that out, that the price for being one of the boys was actually being one of the boys. If I acted like a boy, and held my head high like a boy, they would treat me as a boy. I wasn’t sure how well that would work, but I had to admit the boys were paying much less attention to my body and more to my magic and mind. It was … different.