The Ghost of Christmas Past/Azmuth
...
Charmcaster finished pulling her violet colored nightgown over her head. She glanced at her clothing, boots and tiara on the floor and with a wave of her hand she telekinetically transported them into an opened wardrobe. After putting them away neatly, she closed it with her subtle use of magic. She went over to a mirror and stared at herself. She had had not relaxed since that disturbing visit from her Uncle's ghost, assuming that it was her Uncle's ghost and not a figment of her imagination. She kept trying to doubt it.
"With any luck, I'll sleep well and forget this whole night," She told her reflection, determined to forget about ghosts and messages from the other side.
She climbed into her bed, pulling the covers over herself, and laid there, not yet asleep, though she kept her eyes closed, once and a while looking around, wondering if any of the spirits would show up.
"Ahem," a small deep said in the silence.
Charmcaster jerked up and looked around. There on her nightstand was a strange creature. He was less than a foot tall; he had a froglike face, with large green yellow eyes, a small thin mouth with tendrils that resembled whiskers. He wore a green robe with a black belt and black epaulettes.
"Who are you?" Charmcaster demanded, turning to get out of her bed, glaring at the miniature being.
"I am the ghost of Christmas Past," The being answered gravely. "But you may call me Azmuth."
Charmcaster scowled as she stood before the being on her nightstand. "Oh," She replied derisively. "I thought you'd be taller."
Azmuth scowled. "You really should respect your elders." He told the young woman crisply.
"I don't respect anyone," Charmcaster declared, looking down on Azmuth.
Azmuth glared up at Charmcaster. "Alright, have it your way." He told her in annoyance, and pointed a finger at her.
Charmcaster blinked and suddenly felt a tingling sensation throughout her whole body. Her body then glowed with a green light and everything, her night stand, bed, her entire room...grew. Then she realized that nothing grew, she had shrunk. She was the size of a doll. Azmuth looked down from the nightstand at Charncaster who glared up at him.
"You will pay for this!" She shrieked and then put her hands to her throat in shock. Her voice was high and squeaky. "What did you do to me?!" She demanded, embarrassed by the sound of her new voice.
Azmuth went to the edge of the nightstand and jumped to the floor. Eye level with Charmcaster, a smirk touched his elderly features. "It is a lesson in humility." He answered smiling, though not laughing out loud.
"YOU WILL PAY FOR THIS!" Charmcaster screamed and pointed a hand at Azmuth menacingly, and looked surprised when nothing happened.
Azmuth crossed his arms, shaking his head. "Your magic won't work on me or the others," he said solemnly. "And I wouldn't disrespect them either when they arrive."
Charmcaster's face turned pale, unable to comprehend how powerless she had become.
"Relax," Azmuth assured her, taking a few steps toward. "Unlike you, I don't torture or embarrass people for amusement alone. Now if you're done with your disrespectful behavior, let's go."
Charmcaster frowned, wondering what he meant, but not daring to speak in that stupid squeaky voice that she got with her shrunken size.
"We're going to visit your Past," Azmuth said as if reading her thoughts. "Now come along, we don't have all night." He said, holding out his long fingered hand.
Charmcaster hesitated, staring at Azmuth's hands, which now looked enormous; though her chief fear was the power he had over her. "Come, take my hand," He told her impatiently.
Charmcaster reached forward and took his hand; it was rough and scaly. "Now, we can go." Azmuth said in a calmer voice.
Suddenly, Charmcaster found herself and Azmuth floating off the floor. "AAAAHH!" She screamed in her high squeaky voice, her grip on Azmuth's hand tightened in fear.
"Relax," Azmuth assured the terrified Witch as they reached six feet off the floor. "It's just part of the trip."
Azmuth looked in one in one direction and pointed. A green portal appeared in midair. Azmuth flew toward the portal. Still clinging to his hand, Charmcaster followed. The portal was a long tunnel, glowed with a green light. Charmcaster looked around anxiously, wondering what would happen next. Suddenly, the tunnel dispersed and Charmcaster blinked in surprise. Opening her eyes, she looked around and saw that she and Azmuth were on top of a bookcase. The room was decent, with a couch, a coffee table, and a Christmas tree full of presents underneath it.
Suddenly two children ran into the room. Charmcaster stared in stun disbelief. One was a young boy (possibly seven years old). He was small and with white hair and blue eyes; and a smile full of energy. The other was a girl (about three years older). She was tall and slender with snow white hair like the boy, which came down to her middle. Her eyes were abnormally pink. Her face was full of joy.
"Hey, that's me!" Charmcaster squeaked in shock. She glared at Azmuth. "Where are we?" She asked, and winched in embarrassment by her squeaky voice.
"I told you," Azmuth reminded her briskly. "This is your Past. Your Christmas Past to be precise. Don't worry, they can't see us."
"Mom, Dad, what are you waiting for?" The young white haired girl shouted out. "It's Christmas!"
"Yeah, please hurry?" The young boy agreed enthusiastically.
Suddenly two people (a man and woman) came in. They were dressed in hippy clothing. Both had matching white hair, and blue eyes.
"OK, Tara, Tommy," Their mother said coolly, as she took a seat. "We're here."
"OK, who goes first?" Their father asked, taking a seat next to his wife.
"Me, me, me, me, me!" Both kids shouted excitedly.
'You go first, Tommy." The father told his son.
The older girl pouted as her brother cheered and looked for a present.
Azmuth threw a stare at Charmcaster for a moment. "OK, I think you learned your lesson," He waved a hand. "You can speak now."
"What did you…?" Charmcaster stopped in surprise. Her high squeaky voice had gone back to her refine feminine voice "My voice is back." She said touching her throat in surprised. "What about my size?"
"Don't push it, young lady," Azmuth cut her off. "And don't worry. You'll be normal when your first lesson is done.
Charmcaster scowled. Regaining some of her confidence, she put her hands on her hips and looked Azmuth in the eye. "And what IS this lesson?" She asked crushingly, her eyes narrowed.
Azmuth scowled deeply, causing Charmcaster to falter a little. "The lesson is to relearn what you have forgotten. Look." He said pointing at the scenario before them.
The boy finished opening his present. It was a set of comic books. "Oh boy, Catgirls, New Generation," Tommy exclaimed happily.
"Thank your sister," Tommy's mother told him softly. "She saved her money to get it."
"Mom," Tara exclaimed whiningly, her cheeks turned pink with embarrassment.
Tommy turned to face his older sister. "Thanks, Tara." He said, hugging her. Though annoyed, Tara smiled at her younger brother, returning his hug.
Azmuth cocked his head at Charmcaster. "You were very different in your youth, Charmcaster," He said solemnly. "Interesting how we change with time, isn't it."
Charmcaster frowned feeling a strange feeling that she hadn't felt in a long time. "I already know why you became the woman you are now," Azmuth continued, his tone serious. "But do you remember why?"
Charmcaster hesitated, surprised by the question. "I…uh…," she looked down sheepishly. "I don't know it just happened." She admitted.
Azmuth slapped his forehead with his right hand in annoyance. "Well there is one way to remember how." He said, lifting his hand.
Everything changed into a swirl of colors and lights. Charmcaster blinked and found herself and Azmuth on a chair that was twenty feet tall (from their perception). Across the room, sitting on a bed was Charmcaster's younger self: Tara. Tara was about a year older now. She wore white shorts and a t-shirt. Her hands were folded; her face was etched in misery. Part of her snow white hair was singed as if flame had touched it.
Charmcaster felt her blood turn cold as painful memories flashed through her mind: It was around midnight and a fire erupted in her house; she woke up surrounded by fire, heat and smoke. She screamed, unable to breathe as tongues of flames surrounded her, and lashed at her, burning her hair and her skin, followed by losing consciousness.
She had awakened in the hospital. She had suffered mild smoke insulation, and first degree burn, but was alright. It had been a nightmare, but the worse was when she had gotten the news from the doctors that her parents and little brother didn't survive.
"What is the meaning of this?" Charmcaster demanded, glaring at Azmuth.
Azmuth glared back at her and Charmcaster felt her defiance waver. "Watch," He told her sternly, his green reptilian eyes narrowed at her.
Suddenly, the door to the room opened and a pale man, dressed in black pants, shirt and cowl walked in. His lean pale face glowered at the depressed girl.
Tara looked up at her Uncle; her very mean Uncle. Wiping tears from her eyes, she straightened up.
"Hello, Uncle Hex," She replied politely, trying to stay calm.
The man sneered at the young girl. "Hello Tara," He said callously, his eyes fathomless depths of evil. "It seems fate as arranged for you to be in my care," He paused thoughtfully. "However," He continued. "I sense great potential in you so having you in my care won't be a waste."
Tara blinked; hurt by the way her Uncle talked about her so callously. "What do you mean?" She asked carefully.
Hex narrowed his eyes. "You will find out soon enough," He told her. "Follow me."
With a heavy heart, Tara followed her uncle.
"No, please," Charmcaster begged, clutching her fists in front of her, her knees growing weak.
"We both know the rest," Azmuth said slowly, his face grim. "Your Uncle raised you to be a witch…to do magic and to serve him. He also indirectly taught how to be prideful, self-serving and cruel."
"STOP IT," Charmcaster screamed, glaring at Azmuth with tear filled eyes. "Why do you torture me?"
Azmuth looked at her and Charmcaster was surprised to see compassion in his face. "Torturing you is not my intention," Azmuth told her in a low voice, his hands behind his back. "My intention is to help you remember what you forgotten.
"Pain…despair?" Charmcaster hissed, tears poured from her eyes, "Weakness?"
"No," Azmuth answered patiently. "Love, kindness and patience, virtues that your family provided for you and then you lost them when your Uncle burned them out of you. You have to relearn what your family raised you to be."
"Enough!" Charmcaster screamed, losing control of her emotions. "Take me to my castle! I demand you!"
Azmuth stared at her, annoyed with her disrespectful behavior but under the circumstances decided to let it go. "Very well, Charmcaster," He told her grimly. "I'll take you home."
Charmcaster rubbed her eyes and when she looked around she was startled. She was back in her bedchambers. She looked around. She was her regular human size again. Nothing was unchanged. Moving toward her bed, she sat down on it, and rubbed her eyes, wishing the ache in her heart would go away.
…
To Be Continued
…
Behind the Scenes
I had been trying to guess what Charmcaster's past was long before it was revealed, and this is one version that I came up with, and thought it would fit nicely, since it shows that Charmcaster had the potential to be a nice woman, but a cruel twist of fate led her to darkness.
I chose Azmuth to be the Ghost of Christmas Past for two reasons. 1, in Mickey's Christmas Carol, Jimmy Cricket was the Ghost, and it inspired me to use a short person in my parody.
2, though rather grumpy and distant, Azmuth is very straightforward, and it felt proper that he show Charmcaster what she needed to learn.
I did the shrinking gag partly because it's amusing, and partly because I didn't think Charmcaster would respect Azmuth willingly, ergo, I gave Azmuth powers to humble her.
Please review. If you have any suggestions, please use my private message to tell me.
