Misty had many queries about the coven, and the lifestyle of the other witches over the days to come. "Can you read minds?", "Do you fly?", "Do you have wands?". Cordelia had taken to answering her endless questions, as the other girls soon tired of the inquisitive swamp witch and her exuberance.

"Each witch possesses her own abilities." Cordelia began as they sat cross legged, opposite one another on the floor of the greenhouse. "Some powers are inherent to certain witches.. they come naturally." the blonde witch explained as Misty frowned.

"Like me bringing dead things back? I've done that forever."

"Yes." Cordelia nodded, smiling at the girl's intrigue. "The power of resurgence… you're powerful Misty Day."

"Really? You can't do it?"

"No." Cordelia looked at her hands in her lap. "It's not a common power. Very few witches are gifted like you."

Misty seemed to think this over, frowning at the even witch in front of her. "So what's your big power? Can you move things with your mind?" She grinned, tipping her chin to the older girl.

"Telekinesis? No." Cordelia grew quiet, thinking of the way her mother reprimanded her after she failed to unveil an ability of any 'worth'. "The daughter of a Supreme and you choose to play with plants?" She could still hear her mother sneering now, years later. "Pathetic."

"Reading the future? Like a psychic?" she asked, her grin not slipping.

"No, possessing The Sight is rare. Almost unheard of.

"So… what can you do?" Misty asked, trying but failing not to sound pretentious.

"I excel in potioncraft." Cordelia answered quietly, stretching a thin smile across her face.

"Potions? Like cauldron magic?" she began grinning again. "That's the coolest! You're like a real life witch, like from the books."

Cordelia smiled sheepishly. Very few people had appreciated her flair with herbalism and botanics. Myrtle Snow being one of them. "Thank you, but it's no resurgence."

The cajun witch blushed. "It's not always fun… but I'd still be all burned up if I couldn't do it!" she laughed loudly, making a joke of her own demise.

A comfortable silence settled between them as the swamp witch traced pictures in the dirt, a contented smile on her face, and Cordelia sat back, admiring her carefree whimsy.

"What about the mind reading, and teleporting? Do some witches actually do that?"

"Yes. It's not unusual for witches to display three or more powerful abilities like transmutation or telekinesis."

"How many are there? Things we can do, I mean?"

"There are countless abilities, some more potent than others." Cordelia began, glancing at her lap once again. "Seven of which are deemed more 'powerful', resurgence included.

"So what happens if you do all seven?" The wild haired girl fidgeted on the hard ground, visibly eager to learn all she could from Cordelia's guidance. "Is she the most powerful witch? Like a leader? Like a queen?" Her mouth hung open, in awe of the prospect.

"She's not a queen." Cordelia corrected quickly, expression hard. "She's a Supreme."

"Who is? Who's the Supreme? Miss Myrtle? Is that why she's in charge?" She couldn't sit still as her tongue ran away with her.

"No. Myrtle is the headmistress of the academy, a powerful witch, and the most gracious person I have ever known." the older witch said, chin in the air, glare stony.

"But she's no Supreme." Misty laughed, clearly missing Cordelia's hardened expression.

"She is more than the Supreme is worth. More than Fiona will ever hope to be." she replied without hesitation, tone even and vehement as she balled her fists in her lap.

Misty grew quiet, taken aback by Cordelia's impassioned outburst. "I'm sorry, I mean she's great, a real nice lady."

"Don't apologise. It's just that our Supreme has been absent for years. Myrtle is our guidance, our teacher. The Supreme get's no credit for the girls and the talent here." Cordelia's tone softened towards the swamp witch, but her expression remained stony.

Fidgeting on the dusty floor, Misty thought hard about her next question, not wanting to upset a clearly passionate Cordelia once again. "Who is she?" she asked quietly, cocking her head to one side as she watched the older witch biting her nails into her own palm. "The Supreme, who is she?"

The older witch hesitated, wording her answer carefully.

"She was a student here long ago. A very powerful witch. But she cares more for that power than she does for the health and schooling of her own witches. Her name is Fiona. Fiona Goode."