Magpie

Ch1: The Promise

And it's always weird to erase every personal trace from a place you called home for a while

And see all that you own in a pile

~Moving by Jeffery Lewis~

It was with a heavy heart that Cedric stood in the centre of his workshop, meticulously cataloguing the remaining items taking residence within the vast space. With no indication of when, or even if, he would return to his home, he had magically shrunk down nearly all of his personal belongings and stored them away in the cellar of his parents' cottage. The only things left to prove that anyone had ever occupied the tower were the half full weathered mulberry rucksack slouched against a leg of his desk and the painted wooden wand case that the second Princess had handmade for him as a Wassalia gift almost three years prior. In his mind's eye he could still conjure the image of the small child, dressed in her holiday finest, as she anxiously watched him unwrap the case. It had been, and still was, the most meaningful, heartfelt present he ever received. Now it sat on the top of his desk, a physical manifestation of his only remaining connection to his home in Enchancia. The moment he scooped it up and added it to the other contents of his bag, there would be nothing left to tether him to the tower he'd called home for the entirety of his life. Despite all of its sentimental value, the box had never before held such a hefty significance as it did in this moment.

Cedric sighed as he reluctantly approached the desk, his feet dragging like he was walking through muck instead of across a well-swept floor. Willing himself to retrieve the case and be done with it already, Cedric reached out a gloved hand, which trembled uncontrollably as it hovered over the case. You're being foolish. He chided himself, but it did little good. As he hesitated, frozen in place beside his desk, lightning sliced through the darkened sky beyond his windows, ominously illuminating the otherwise dim room.

He glanced up at the empty bookshelves, subconsciously comparing their shape to that of a skeleton's ribcage, and suppressed a shudder that threatened to rip down his spine. The sight of the tower stripped bare, hollowed down to its most basic components was jarring, to put it mildly. Sure, Sofia had kept the place tidy ever since the day she first became his apprentice, diligently replacing his chaos with her order, but the shelves were always stuffed to bursting with books and trinkets and she never bothered with his desk or work table, somehow sensing that he worked better when there was just a touch of disorder about him.

Gradually, without him realising it was happening, the tower had become theirs rather than just his, a perfect blend of what they both required to focus on hours upon hours of sorcery lesson, as well as enjoy innumerable carefree afternoon tea times together. Now it was nothing more than a barren shell of its former glory.

The deafening thud of the wooden door careening into the stone wall came without warning, but for once Cedric didn't react to the sound. He didn't even admonish the girl for forgetting to knock again. Instead, he held perfectly still, keeping his back to her and praying that - somehow - his intruder would turn out to be anyone else, that he was mistaken in his assumption. "So it is true." Her familiar voice instantly put an end to that slim possibility.

Cedric's resolve crumbled, and he spun to face her. Sofia was doubled over on his threshold, holding her side and panting hard, rain sloughing off of her copper tendrils in rivulets that pooled in the recesses of his floor, forming an intricate system of minuscule waterways at the entrance. She'll catch cold. He fretted, completely missing what she'd said in lieu of worrying over the state she was in. He tried to remind himself that the child had an army of servants at her disposal, people whose job it was to concern themselves with her well-being, and as soon as he stepped foot out of the tower she would no longer be any of his business. The notion was anything but comforting. He could scarcely remember what it was like, the days when he wanted the little princess out of his life. Now, she was the biggest loss in his egress, the dearest thing he would have to leave behind. Perhaps this knowledge was what had stirred up the disquieting feeling from earlier that he was forgetting something important, but taking her with him was never an option.

Sofia rose to her full height and stared at him, those brilliant blue eyes that usually showered him with the utmost admiration were today clouded with pure venom. Suddenly, it didn't matter how much he had changed since she befriended him, standing beside him no matter what and making him see the good in people, even in himself. It didn't matter, because he must still be every bit a villain to warrant such contempt from Sofia.

"Sofia, I–I–I" All things considered, it was a valiant effort at speech, but there were no words to explain himself to her, nor to describe the way his heart twisted inside of his chest as she advanced toward him through the doorway, leaving a trail of water in her wake. This is why… This was the exact reason he'd gone out of his way to avoid her since the day he decided to leave. The pain of leaving his entire existence behind paled in comparison to the agony of saying goodbye to Sofia. Perhaps he'd never been a villain after all, but an ordinary run-of-the-mill coward.

"You're leaving?" she spat the accusation, travelling unbearably closer. Cedric ducked his head, believing incorrectly that he could somehow shield himself from her icy glare.

"I am." He kept his confession terse, certain that if he said more than the bare minimum needed to answer her question, everything would come rushing out of him like an opened floodgate. There'd be no going back, then. She would either use all her charm and persistence on a misguided attempt to make him stay put — and since that wasn't an option it would only result in both of them leaving this room even more miserable than they already were, or she would go off to her fancy new school burdened needlessly with anxieties that ought to be his alone to harbour.

"Is this why you've been so distant? Why you didn't even come to my birthday party?" Both questions elicited sorrowful nods from him. "Were you even planning on saying goodbye to me?" There was no honest answer to that question that wouldn't serve to upset her further, and he had vowed not to lie to her anymore. Then again, they'd also sworn that there would be no more secrets between them, and he'd already gone back on that one to a spectacular degree.

"I did leave you a note." His voice cracked as he gestured meekly to the normally cluttered work table, now occupied by a single package, wrapped in brown paper and tied up with twine. It wasn't attractive, but he hadn't exactly been rich in free time lately. The note, if one could even call it that, was scribbled on a torn scrap of parchment he'd secured to the top. He had no interest whatsoever in being nearby when she read it, but as he currently found himself quite literally backed into a corner, pointing it out seemed a far better option than enduring further confrontation. She turned and approached the table slowly, sliding her finger beneath the twine with all the delicacy befitting a princess. Behind her, Cedric fetched his wand case and deposited it inside his rucksack, before taking advantage of her distraction to make a break for the exit, eager to distance himself from her before he had a chance to change his mind.

"Wait!" Sofia called out and, against his better judgement, he halted his retreat. Bare, wet feet slapped across the floor, and soon her arms wrapped around his waist, her face burying into the thick robe that covered his back, "I don't want you to go." She sounded so small, so very far away, and Cedric scrunched his eyes shut, determined to be strong enough for the both of them. He drew in a deep, steady breath and pried himself from the child's tight grip, then swivelled around to face her, leaning forward so they could see each other eye-to-eye.

"Sofia, do you understand why I didn't say 'Goodbye' to you?" She shook her head, swiping at unshed tears with one curled fist. He couldn't recall a single time he'd seen the brave young girl reduced to tears, and he hated that the first was caused by him. "Because this isn't the end, child. We will see each other again."

"Promise?" she hiccoughed, her little finger slicing through the air between them. Cedric chuckled softly at the gesture, hooked his own pinky around hers, then pulled her into a proper hug.

"Promise."

…

"Ceddy?" His mother threw the door further open, stepping forward to embrace her son. "What a nice surprise! You're just in time for dinner", she informed him, letting go and ushering him inside. Of course, how could he have forgotten that it was tonight?

"If there isn't enough," he began, hoping to find a good excuse to avoid the affair all together, but Winifred shot him a withering glance at the mere suggestion and he understood that sitting down for a family meal was non-negotiable. "Alright, Mummy, but I'm not especially hungry, so just a small portion", he conceded halfheartedly, entering the main room of the cottage. Though he usually avoided these family dinners, he did know that his mother always insisted they be taken around the table in her small formal dining room so, after he watched her hurry off into the kitchen, he kicked his boots off by the front door and hesitantly went off in that direction, pausing for a second in the doorway. At the table, Goodwyn, Calista, and Cordelia all stopped chatting to acknowledge his presence.

"Mum didn't tell me you'd be joining us." Cordelia smiled at him and he did his best to return the favour. Act normally. He instructed himself, claiming the empty seat beside his niece, much to the young girl's sheer delight. He dropped his soaked rucksack onto the floor as casually as possible, though his sister quirked a well-manicured eyebrow at the sight of it.

"She didn't know. I sort of… popped by on a whim", he fibbed, nodding a thank you to Winifred as she bustled over and set a plate of food in front of him, which he didn't even bother to look at, lacking anything resembling an appetite. Cordelia snorted, studying her brother.

"The worst storm of the decade, and you're out visiting on a whim?" she enquired, and Cedric did his best to shrug off the question.

"Cordelia, leave your brother be", their mother scolded, sitting down beside her husband.

"I'm glad you're here, Uncle Ceddy." Calista grinned up at him, and this time when he smiled it was genuine. His niece lifted a forkful of food, only to have her hand gently swatted by her mother.

"Manners, Calista. We haven't said blessings, yet", Goodwyn scolded, then cleared his throat. Everyone else bowed their heads, and Cedric hurried to do the same. "Give thanks to Mother Earth, give thanks to Father Sun. Give thanks to the plants in the garden, where the Mother and Father are one."

"Blessed be", everyone present added in a rough sort of unison.

Around Cedric, his family began to tuck into their meals, and he thought to at least attempt to do the same but when he turned his attention to his plate and saw the large portion of mutton, all he could think about was how upset Sofia would be by the poor animal's sacrifice. He needed to stop thinking like that, or it would cause a great many difficulties once he arrived at his destination. Stubbornly, he jabbed a fork into the meat, though he continued to stare at it instead of making a first cut.

"Uncle Ceddy?" He whipped his head up to find the room strangely silent, all eyes glued firmly on him. Clearing his throat, he managed a small 'hm?' of response, wondering if he'd missed something crucial. "The batter buns, please." Calista pointed beyond him to a small basket covered with a blue cloth napkin.

"Oh. Right", he mumbled, reaching over and sliding them closer so she could reach.

"Is something wrong, Cedric?" Goodwyn queried, examining him with disturbing intensity.

"Of course not. I… I suppose I didn't get enough sleep last night." It — like this entire visit — was a lie. How he'd ever believed that dropping by the cottage unannounced was a good idea was completely beyond him, but he'd desperately wanted to see his mother one last time before leaving Enchancia. Bending down, he lifted his bag and scooted his chair away from the table, adding a hasty, "Sorry, I-I think perhaps I'd better go."

"Nonsense, Ceddykins!" his mother admonished him, shaking her head at his foolishness. "It's raining cats and dogs out there, and it's only supposed to get worse." Cedric opened his mouth to protest, but she was having none of it. "Go get yourself settled into the guest room." Deciding it was better not to argue, and starting to feel almost as weary as he claimed to be, Cedric marched across the room, stopping to peck his mother on the cheek.

"Thank you, Mummy. I think I will." With that, he left his dinner uneaten and ambled his way down the hall to the furthest room in the house.

Flicking the lights on in the claustrophobic bedroom, Cedric tossed his bag onto the nightstand and shrugged off his soggy robe. The bed, one of several antique pieces that monopolised what little floorspace the room had to offer, could very well have been calling his name, and he dropped onto it and rubbed his hands across his face, unsure if he was trying to ward off sleep or beckon it to claim him faster. He halted the motion abruptly, peeking over his fingertips at the discarded sack. Reminding himself not to get his hopes up too high, but doing exactly that, he tugged the bag into his lap and lifted the flap to scrutinise the contents. Nothing appeared out of the ordinary and, though he'd expected as much, the wave of disappointment that washed over him couldn't be helped. Come on, Sofia. Be a good girl and open the box already. He willed the princess silently. She was extraordinarily clever, that girl, and he trusted her to figure it out, but being patient until she did would be no easy task.