"Misty? Are you in here?" Cordelia paced tentatively along the corridors of the Academy, her fingers gently skimming the white-washed walls as she walked. A hollow ache disturbed her insides as she contemplated the ever decreasing sense of security she felt within Miss Robichaux's of late; it was as if the building's foundations were decaying. Her fingers traced along a cleft through the wall and Cordelia leant into it, her cane preserving her balance long enough to call out once more.
"Misty? Where are you?" The restless swamp witch had an irrevocable habit of vanishing at the most vital of times.
Cordelia creased her eyebrows, uncertainty causing her to doubt the strength of her cane. She forced it chaotically forwards, searching for the support of the piano nestled in the corner of the room.
"Cordelia, dear, I feel as though one should control one's charges with far firmer a grasp." Myrtle's dense footsteps invaded the room, the rich scent of floral perfume pervading the air around her. She strode with assertion towards a table framing the back wall of the room, and set down a freshly arranged collection of flowers contained elegantly within a clear vase. Her fingers pecked gently at their leaves, dictating their positions on each stem with an intensity that would seem excessive from anyone else but Myrtle.
"Your Misty is dabbling in the green house again," Myrtle said, dismissively shaking her arm at Cordelia. "Does it really surprise you, Delia? The girl can barely bring herself to part with that glorious collection of flora. Or that ethereal music she so vigorously engages with."
Cordelia's muscles relaxed slightly in relief. Of course it had occurred to her to look for Misty in the greenhouse, but when she had visited earlier its emptiness and the evocation of memories of Fiona and Hank had polluted its natural purity – and Misty had been remarkably absent.
"I tried to teach her of the many delightful qualities of the Theremin but I felt more as though I was discussing haute couture fashion with a Catholic nun..." Myrtle continued to debate Misty's musical tendencies with the buds and petals orchestrated on the table before her, barely noticing as Cordelia took increasingly purposeful steps in haste to exit the room. Her subsequent determination to return to Misty seemed uncharacteristic in the house, which itself seemed to wane in conviction whenever someone new disappeared. The walls seemed to recoil as Cordelia stormed past them, her authority and influence dominating the dense floorboards of the Academy. Today was becoming uncomfortable to endure.
And it all comes down to you
Well, you know that it does
Well, lightning strikes, maybe once, maybe twice
A gentle humming permeated the air. The ghostly silhouette of the perturbed swamp witch danced like smoke from within a forest of fervent plants. Her isolation elevated her above the mass of flowering euphorbia plants, their petals reciprocating her fluid movements in the breeze undulating from her billowing shawl. Their tender yellow colour seemed to penetrate the dim light of the room, framing the menagerie in which her powers seemed to flourish.
Oh, and it lights up the night
Misty wove through the entwined foliage, gnawing placidly on a blade of grass she'd recovered this afternoon. Occasionally, she would pause to dab some moist swamp mulch at the base of surrounding plants. With each delicate application, they appeared to recline in submission at her benevolence. Her humming subsided as she analysed each delicate branch, enveloped by the peaceful atmosphere of her menagerie. Her synthetic haven felt somewhat heavier than the surroundings of her swamp abode. For all the relief she felt, murkiness still lingered on her skin. The pace of her gnawing increased as reflected on the clarity that had been torn away from her upon arriving at the Academy. Returning after her imprisonment in the crypt had not bestowed mad her complacent. She still felt the agony and violence of a storm churning itself up within her stomach.
"Misty? I've been looking all over for you. I really wish you wouldn't vanish so suddenly when the coven is this vulnerable." Cordelia's agitation tainted her words as she burst into the greenhouse. The recent devastation she had endured at the loss of her unforgiving mother had certainly not erased the integrity with which she guarded her Academy.
The bay plants surrounding Misty became rigid, stood on guard. Their stems tensed and the spectacle of leaves snapped together regimentally, expelling any threat from the room. Misty felt an insurgence of energy strike her at the sound of Cordelia's refined voice. Her eyes darted earnestly over to the passageway at the edge of the room, resting with ease on Cordelia's sophisticated frame.
"I'm sorry, Miss Cordelia. I hadn't realised y'all were looking for me," she began. "I heard my plants weepin' all night. Didn't get a wink of sleep. Thought I'd better give 'em all a bit more nurturin' today is all."
Cordelia stood, slightly perplexed by her reply. On the other side of the room, Misty adjusted a loose scrap of fabric on her skirt urgently and dipped around the base of a bay plant. The bucket she held swung loosely at her side, with the cuttings from a sage plant amassing in a stack at its base.
"Look, I got somethin' to show you. I've been workin' on that spell you gave me and I've never seen a flower grow like it before - not even from my swamp mud and I swear by that every time," said Misty as she thrust her arm towards Cordelia and snatched up her hand. Cordelia flinched slightly at the sudden contact but allowed herself to be led further into the greenhouse. Misty clasped her hand around Cordelia's delicate fingers and guided her over to the flourishing bay plants. She slowly removed her grasp and placed the tentative hand over a sole, delicate leaf.
A sharp intake of breath caught in the air and Cordelia revelled in the inherent serenity of the plant. The vibrancy of each leaf was intoxicating. Their edges were blades beneath the tip of her finger and the new buds pulsated like blood along each stem and branch. Whispers seeped from each elusive vein within, amalgamating every voice to form a heavenly chorus of flora quite unlike anything Cordelia had experienced in her own magic.
"Thank you for rescuing me."
Cordelia withdrew her hand from the plant abruptly.
"You don't have to thank me, Misty. You are my responsibility and I failed you the second I let Madison get her claws into you. You are a part of this coven and it was my duty to protect you." The lavender buds shivered.
Misty clung to her bucket ardently. The storm in her stomach riled itself, causing her to wince slightly at its fury. She nodded in self-assurance and rocked on the muddy balls of her feet. In repudiation she pulled herself back towards her menagerie. The orchids were wilting and she needed to heal them.
Cordelia felt a brush of air against her as the young witch wistfully surpassed her to tend to her plants.
"Misty, why are you so consumed by nature?" The question evaded her lips before she could swallow it.
The bay leaves rustled faintly as Misty began to coil the tassels of her shawl around her fingers. She was taken aback by Cordelia's engagement and attempted to conceal herself behind a peony bush. After several empty moments of re-evaluation and the gentle encouragement of the foliage, she stepped forward again, shifting out of the shadows.
"It's my constant, Miss Delia."
Cordelia tilted her head and rested her weight onto her cane.
"There is clarity in its changin'. I don't have to be worried by the seasons. They're predictable and the plants hear me and know when I'm callin'. I ain't never been outgoing but nature..." She cut herself off briefly.
"It has sustained me."