Page 5 of Cursed By the Love Witch

“High Warlock,” I say softly. I can still feel the heat of his palms through the layers of my clothes.

“Miss Thistle,” he returns.

Giving me a brief nod, he passes me and exits through the door I just came in from. His long, dark cape brushes me as he passes. His smoky scent tickles my nose. It’s mixed with something wild that I can’t name. It travels into my lungs and overwhelms all of my other senses.

Why am I breathless? What is wrong with me? My disdain for him is now physically affecting me. Lovely.

Turning into the potion room, I inhale the heavy floral scent from the open windows. Mistress Saege always keeps it warm here. Tall wooden bookshelves line the walls laden with spell books and grimoires. Ivy crawls up along the far wall, where another towering set of shelves can be found housing all manner of spell ingredients. From dried roses to selenite to herbs from far-off lands, there isn’t an ingredient you can’t find here.

She’ll have just what I need for Prue’s potion. I had spent yesterday organizing her inventory and found she had a bottle of unused rose water—the water collected under the blood moon. Its cleansing properties will enhance my love potion nicely. Isigh contently and approach the back wall when a low sound reaches my ears.

Turning to my right, I don’t know how I missed her before. Mistress Saege is slumped over her large mahogany desk. Her hands are cradling her head. Long, graying tendrils fall between her fingers. Quiet sobs shake her body.

“Mistress,” I call softly, walking towards her.

She jolts in her chair, looking up at me with surprise.

“Oh Darcee, my dear, I’m oh—I’m such a mess. I didn’t want you to see me like this.”

She rubs at her red-rimmed green eyes and sniffs loudly. A forced smile curves her lips.

“What’s wrong?” I ask, coming to stand beside her at the desk.

Her watery smile shatters as a fresh sob catches in her throat. Shaking her head, tears stream down her wrinkled cheeks and disappear into the collar of her white shirt.

“He…Bael…he—oh, I don’t even know what to say. It’s all too much?—”

My beloved teacher—the one who’s shown me nothing but kindness since I came to this school five years ago—breaks off into a fresh torrent of sobs. She rises on wobbly knees and hurries towards the spiral staircase that leads to her office above the classroom. Her cries echo around the room until she slams the door firmly behind herself.

Only then do they become heartbreakingly muffled.

Anger, boiling and all-consuming, races through my veins as I watch her leave. Bael, the High Warlock, that wretched male—now he’s reduced Mistress Saege to tears. It would seem he has very little care for any of us. I am not unique. His ill treatment extends to his peers as well.

This cannot stand. Someone must do something about him, and that person must be me. I’d never wish ill on another being, but he cannot live amongst us unchecked any longer.

My mind gets to work, mulling over different ideas. Poison is too extreme, as is grievous bodily harm. There is also the matter of my skill level. I can make a mean love potion, but other than that?—

That’s when it hit me—a wonderfully evil idea. I cannot do it even as I consider it, but it seems like the only way. Besides, would it be so bad if the High Warlock fell asleep for a few…years?

Let’s say ten or so?

That would surely end our classes and clear up the pesky issue of my grade. With no teacher available, they would have no choice but to pass us all until the course could be retaken. Not to mention, who doesn’t love a long nap? The High Warlock is seemingly immortal. What’s a decade to him? By then, I’d be long gone from here, and if the plot were ever found, there would be no way for them to trace it back to me.

It’s ridiculous even to consider, not to mention a sleeping potion is tricky work. Yet, after years of nightmares, I’ve mastered the perfect formula. If I am found out, the consequences would be severe—I’d be expelled at the very least.

Saege’s tearful cries reach my ears and strengthen my resolve. The High Warlock is an unkind male, and I will not let him steal away my dreams because he wishes to make his morose nature all of our problems. I’m doing this for the good of everyone. At least, that’s what I tell myself.

“But love first,” I say aloud.

Dropping my stuff on the nearest work table, I quickly gather the ingredients necessary. Fresh roses, rose water, pink quartz, salt for protection, cinnamon to make their love spicy—it’s not long until their glittering love potion is boiling away in mycauldron. The smell is lovely and warms my heart. Reaching into myself, I picture the golden warmth flowing through me and infuse all my love and desire into their potion, increasing its potency with my love magic. This potion will be strong enough to break down any barrier between them and allow love to flow freely.

Once done, I find a small glass container to store it in. I meant to order more heart-shaped ones, but I’ll have to make do with just a standard bottle. The magenta color glows brightly and is iridescent in the afternoon sun. Nestling an array of rose quartz beneath it, I rest it in the selenite charging bowl and allow its power to intensify.

Turning back to my cauldron, I pause for a moment. Is this something I want to do? Closing my eyes, I reflect on every disappointed and disdainful gaze. I feel the embarrassment he’s caused me and recall Saege’s tear-stained cheeks. Without another hesitation, I get to work crafting the sleeping potion. I’ve made so many of these that I know just what ingredients to adjust to make them long-lasting.

The transparent liquid bubbles inside my cauldron, and the minty scent stings my nose. Needing it to work quickly, I pluck a piece of my hair and drop it into the potion, stirring it with my intention. I infuse the last dregs of my magic into the liquid. Pouring it into a separate glass container, I realize with a start that it looks remarkably similar to the love potion.

It's best not to get these two mixed up.

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