It was Registration Day for all of the Magix schools, including Cloud Tower. Everyone was getting ready to meet their roommates, sign into their rooms, and dive headfirst into another year of witchcraft.. Everyone was excited, in their own way.
Everyone, except Lucy.
It wasn't that she didn't want to be a witch. After years and years of being treated like an outcast in her private school, Cloud Tower had been a gift from the Great Dragon. Or the Ancestors. She wasn't sure which.
Unfortunately, when she looked down at her green shorts, faded yellow T-shirt, and would finger her stringy, dark hair, she wouldn't feel like a witch. When she peeked back at her suitcase, she saw nothing but garish rainbow garb. A necessity at Serapa's Prep, but in the home of witches, you were signing your death certificate. You would become a social outcast in the school full of outcasts. Irony at its finest.
A witch could be strong when everyone else was weak. They could see in the darkness that baffled all, could flourish where most wilted. They had pursued power in a world run by men. They'd survived exodus, plague, segregation, and discrimination for millennia. They'd held their heads high when the weaker bowed. Witches had always been outcasts, and would always stand tall.
Lucy had admired them, feared them, and now, was one of them. She shivered, never before had she felt so out of place.
"Next in line, please!" Someone with a heavy accent called out. It took Lucy a moment to realize there was no longer anyone in front of her.
She bumbled up to the counter, trying desperately not to glance around at the other freshman. A woman with dark hair streaked in white waited for her.
"Lucenne Hendrix?" The woman snarled.
Lucy nodded frantically. "That's me."
"Hmm..." the woman didn't look up. "I'm Professor Ediltrude. I don't often teach freshman, but staff is short this year. I will see you in class in…two day's time."
She sifted through a stack of papers for a minute or two, then handed one to Lucy. "This is your schedule for the semester, as well as your room's last known location. If the school favors you, you should have no trouble finding your dorm. I wish you and your roommate the best of luck. Next in line, please!"
It took Lucy only fifteen minutes to find her dorm. It was because a sophomore pointed it out when she was about to pass the room. At least someone had put numbers on the dorm rooms, or she would've never reached iy
The room was small and simple. Two beds lay on opposite walls, facing in separate directions. Each came with a nightstand and a closet, with a single bathroom opposite the door. Neutral territory.
Though still qiite dark,the charged energy present outside seemed muted. Here, only two different magical powers could be felt throughout the year; one of them was hers. If one girl's presence overpowered another's too severely, they would be separated. For freshman, this would continue until they found a suitable match. Lucy had no idea who her roommate might be. Her legs felt weak at the prospect.
Quickly checking that the dorm room was indeed hers, she wrote down the location on the back of her schedule:
Second floor. Northern end. Seventh room to the left of the fourth corridor.
Slowly, the witch began to unpack. She tossed most her old clothes off to the end of her bed, never to be worn again. Lucy began to hunt for a more appropriate shirt. When she came across a white tank top, she sighed. It would have to do.
Right after her shirt came off, the doorswung open. Lucy whipped her head around, hands over her flat chest.
"What in Shadowhaunt? Don't you knock?" Lucy yelled on instinct, then realized that she herself hadn't when she entered the room. She felt ashamed, and a bit nervous that she'd just yelled at a fellow witch.
"Oh, I'm so sorry! I thought the room was empty."
Lucy narrowed her eyes, confused. Was this girl really apologizing? Since when did witches do that?
Well, if she was to be honest, the girl didn't look much like a witch. Her red hair had a short, messy look, like she'd cut it with safety scissors. Her skin was pale like most, but lacked the polished look most of the older students had, and seemed more pasty than anything else.
Still, she wasn't ugly. Her grey eyes were wide and bright, and she, at least, looked like a girl. Lucy knew that if she cut her hair, she'd been told time and time again that she would pass for a boy.
"I'm serious! I had no idea you were in here. Please..." the strange girl begged, and Lucy finally realized why her eyes were so wide: fear.
She also realized that she must have been staring. She shrugged, trying to let her know she wasn't angry. "Alright."
The other teen was noticeably relieved, but still a bit tense.
"Oh, good. I thought maybe because I'd gotten here in the morning, most people wouldn't be here yet. I could be settled in before all the other witches started crowding the halls because I really don't like being in big crowds. It was all going fine until they told me where my room was supposed to be. They said it had been last seen in the west wing, so I'd gone all the way there. I hadn't really understood the directions, I thought they meant that was my room…" She paused to cringe.
Lucy twitched in annoyance.
Seeming not to notice, the other girl continued, "As it turns out, it belonged to some seniors and they had to explain things. Needless to say, they...weren't very happy."
The monologue continued, but Lucy made an effort to block her out. She quickly put her shirt on and went over to check herself in the mirror. She still didn't look like the other students, but it would suffice. Better than pixie clothing, anyway.
She walked back over to the bed she'd chosen. The clothes she had left over were few in number; she would probably have to find more before long. Most notably, for formal events. Nothing left would be enough to attend the school's more ceremonial occasions.
Suddenly, the stranger in her room finally stopped speaking "Um, what about you?"
"Hm?" Lucy grunted.
"How did your family react when they found out you were a witch?"
What does she care? "They didn't think much of it. My mom's a witch, too."
"So's mine, but she didn't think I was witch material for a really long time. When I got my test results back last year, she was so excited, she immediately applied me for the best school in the dimension. Which, of course, is here." She began fingering her hair, nervous again. "She...really thought I would be a pixie and shame the family. It was kinda upsetting to her."
"Wow," Lucy commented, "I always knew I'd be a witch."
"Huh," the girl paused for a moment, then flinched. "Oh! I'm Mirta by the way. If we're going to be sharing a room, we need to know each other's name." she laughed awkwardly.
Mirta. The name stirred a faint memory. Hadn't she had a friend with that name?
Oh yeah! Lucy remembered, smiling. They'd been inseparable in primary school, but when Lucy moved away, she attended a pixie-dominated private school. They might look innocent, but Lucy knew every single one of them to be petty, shallow, and cruel. At least witches were honest with their intentions.
At least witches knew how to fight back.
"Lucy," she remembered to force out. Mirta had replied, but she'd hardly heard.
She was trying to focus: Mirta. She didn't remember her very well. Her friend had been shorter than her, with huge eyes and tiny freckles. They'd had fun together, but that's all Lucy cared to remember.
Not that it mattered. Mirta was a common enough name; she'd probably never see her again.
"Have you ever had a roommate before?"
Lucy gritted her teeth. This was definitely not the Mirta she'd known.
"No. Don't you have to unpack?" She cringed. Well, that came out badly.
"Uh...yeah." Mirta backed away slowly, then reached for her huge suitcases.
Her new roommate kept to herself for the rest of the time. Lucy briefly considered apologizing, then decided against it. She had enough to worry about without all the babbling.
She'd hung up a few more clothes, then stopped. She started thinking. While this girl probably wasn't the one she'd grown up with, it made her wonder where was the one that was. Where had that Mirta ended up?
Hold on a second, Lucy thought. Didn't she have a picture of herself as a kid? She knew she'd gotten it from a local fair. If memory served, she'd gone there with Mirta. Lucy smiled as another memory surfaced.
Had she packed it? True, she'd kept some of her old photos, but who was to say it included that one?
Girl on a mission, she opened a different suitcase. As she tore through the contents. Where in the dimension had she gotten this many posters?
On the third try, she struck home.
There Lucy was. Smiling in a crowd and jamming out, she was standing right next to...
"Oh my dragon." She whispered.
"What is it, Lucy?" She looked over at the poster in her hands.
Mirta gasped, a sudden shock of realization.
A shock ignited a spark.
And the spark started a fire. One that could never burn out, could never stop relighting, could warm her cold heart.
A friendship that burns forever.
A/Ns: I'll admit, this wasn't my best work. I wanted it to be this really emotional, warm and fuzzy moment at the end, but it just looks...meh.
Anyways, I wrote this fic to celebrate a very important occasion: my friend and co-author StrangeMindEnigma not only had her birthday today, but she is officially a member of . I chose Lucy and Mirta because despite all their differences and struggles, they still make the gest of friends. That's how I think of SME and I.
Well, that and she makes an awesome Mirta. Plus I felt like some witch-advocating, because a lot of people seem to hate on them and I hold them in equal respect as fairies. There are two sides on every coin.
So, yeah. Reviews are helpful, concrit is appreciated, and a warm congrats to SME, my eccentric partner in crime. Oh, and special thanks to Art Writer III, who helped me edit.
Until I get around to updating something, I shall see you on the far side!