Written for Femslash February 2019's twenty-third prompt "Gold."
Long Gone Era
"Do you think it exists?" Beatrice asks, gazing out at the rose garden.
She hums, rising her head as she chews on a sugar cookie. "What exists?"
Beatrice rests her elbow on the table under the gazebo and cups her cheek. "The gold of Ushiromiya Kinzo. I've been hearing rumors that it's real."
Her friend snickers and rests back in her chair. She fans herself when a particularly humid breeze tickles her cheeks. "Oh, that? Well, I've detected hints of magical power sporadically throughout the island. It could be the gold."
"And gold is a very poignant enhancer for magic." Beatrice hums and rubs her chin. "If I could get my hands on it, you and I would become the most powerful witches this island has ever known. We'd be grander than Kinzo and his immense legacy."
She chuckles. "We'd certainly have more power than we could ever imagine."
"The anti-magic toxin that humans are naturally stained with wouldn't even be able to touch us." Beatrice beams, her eyes glittering like stars in the sky. "We wouldn't be called ghosts anymore! We'd become true witches in the eyes of everyone living here!"
She glances up at the arbor, watching the vines twist around the wooden frames and caress the circular railing. Waving her hand, Beatrice summons golden butterflies who carry in another basket filled with baked bread, butter, jellies, and sweets. Taking it, she sets aside two round loaves of sesame seed bread and tiny jars of grape jelly on porcelain plates.
Watching Beatrice giggle like a little girl makes the smile on her friend's face stretch into her cheeks. As Beatrice slathers jelly on her bread, she asks, "So, what brought this up?"
"Shannon was talking to one of the servants." Beatrice pauses, the name escaping her, and she quickly shakes her head. "Well, it doesn't matter who it was, but what does matter is that if you and I can find the gold before anyone else, then we'd be unstoppable!"
Beatrice stuffs her face full with the bread. Splotches of jelly stain her pink lips, and she licks them, ignoring the napkin resting by her plate. She takes a generous sip of rose tea, the floral fragrance almost intoxicating, and she sighs, filled with content.
Her friend plucks a vanilla scone from the basket. She twists it around her fingers as she listens to Beatrice ramble on about how they would be able to roam freely without any toxicity. She falls deeper into her grandeur, the promise of the future lulling in her with each excited word.
To be seen and recognized, acknowledged by the masses of ignorant humans, that would be the greatest honor for a witch. Even someone like her would have the chance to be seen as real in the eyes of so many people. It's a dream she shares with Beatrice. Both of them yearn for the day when they can finally be free of their shackles to Rokkenjima's night, their only human company being sweet Shannon in the safety of her precious dreams.
"Do you think we can do it?" her friend asks, lowering her voice even though they are the only ones present as if her doubt would cause everything to collapse.
Beatrice swallows her bread and smiles. Resting her butter knife on the napkin, she reaches forward and cups Gaap's smooth palm. She runs her fingers along her bony knuckles and tilts her head, her flowing mint hair waving in the breeze.
"Absolutely. We may not know where the gold is, but that's only for now." She clutches her friend's hand tightly. "We have an eternity to find it, my friend."
"Just you and me," she whispers, gazing deeply into Beatrice's soft cerulean eyes, "together forever."
A hand claps down on her shoulder and shatters the illusion. Beatrice splinters off, her warm smile twisted like shards of glass along with the rest of her body and the garden. Her friend gasps, fingers flexing as the world breaks around her, seeping into darkness, and she topples back, eyes wide and staring at nothing.
She blinks, returning to the arbor. Looking around, she finds the golden roses as fresh as ever with hints of rain still clinging to their petals. Voracious laughter echoes behind her, followed by a child's cackling. Girls shoot around her in the forms of stakes. A butler pours another round of tea for the witches, the scent a calming mint.
"Gaap," Virgilia gently says, removing her hand, "Beatrice is calling for you."
Her mouth falls open. She certainly has a name, and she remembers it well. The memory falls back into the recesses of her mind as she turns to face Beatrice, sneering and ginger-blonde, who waves her over.
"Gaap, come here! Maria drew new friends! Come and see!" Beatrice calls, and Maria giggles, flipping through her grimoire with Sakutarou at her side.
"Oh. Oh, yes." Gaap's response is quiet, almost inaudible to even Virgilia standing near her. Clearing her throat, she saunters over and smiles, listening to the witches of Mariage Sorciere discuss the creation of the four Chiester Sisters.
This certainly is not the dream she had been hoping for as she gazes down at Beatrice, but she'll forever support her friend's desire. If this is what her friend had wanted so badly, then so be it.
She rubs her bare thigh, wondering what magic would have been flowing from her fingertips and electrifying her soul as the ghostly caress of her dearest love lingers in her palm.