Traveling had never been Samara's favourite activity. Well, that's not entirely true. Samara loved to experience different cultures and sights, however the long distance teleportation was always bothersome. The disorientation mixed with the power drain always made for a rough landing. So needless to say, Samara avoided long distance travel like the plague. This time though, avoidance was impossible.
Samara loved her Aunties, more than anything. Aunt Hilda was like the mom she never had; always there with a warm hug and sweets. She gave the best advice on matters of the heart. While Aunt Zelda was much the opposite. Aunt Zelda was the one Samara went to for quick, cold-hearted solutions to problems she was having. Aunt Hilda was the heart of the relationship while Aunt Zelda was the head. Both strong women had helped shape Samara into the young woman she was today.
So when Auntie Z had invited her to her wedding during their weekly mirror scrying, Samara had been quick to agree. Rarely had she ever seen her severe Auntie, glowing with happiness and pride. It made Samara warm with joy to see her Aunt Zelda so content. However, that warm feeling soon drained with dread at hearing the name of who her Auntie was marrying.
Faustus Blackwood was a worm of a man; at least in the eyes of Samara Spellman. With ridiculously misogynistic ideals and bullheaded to boot, he was the reason Samara had fled the Greendale witch community. Her Auntie Z, however, held the High Priest on a pedestal in her mind. In an abstract way Samara understood why Aunt Zelda would be proud to marry Faustus. The honor of marrying a High Priest on top of the power he held, would be attractive to any smart witch. His deplorable behaviour was enough to outweigh any positives there might have been by marrying the slug; in Samara's opinion at least. Her Auntie Z, obviously, held a much different opinion.
Knowing of the disdain Samara held for Faustus Blackwood, Zelda made her promise to be on her best behaviour and to not ruin this important event. The love and respect Samara held for her Aunt far outweighed the disgust she held for the High Priest; so Samara agreed to her Aunt's request. Thus began the wedding preparations and planning. Samara was to arrive the day before the wedding and would be staying in the Spellman house with her cousins Ambrose and Sabrina. Aunties Z and Hilda would be staying at the Academy of Unseen Arts that night.
Which brought Samara to her current standpoint. A travel bag rested in the crook of her elbow while her familiar, Phlox, leaned against her calf. The red fox had become used to teleportation with his witch and assumed his usual position. Samara offered a small smile down to her familiar and adjusted the lapels of her long dark grey travelling coat. She ran through a mental checklist to make sure she had everything she would need and that everything in her tiny home was safe to stay. The fresh foxglove and mint hanging in the kitchen would hopefully be dried by the time she returned home. She had ideas for enhancing some potions that she wanted to try. For instance perhaps the use of mint would help mask the sickly sweet flavour in all sleep potions. Maybe dried foxglove was more potent in those sleep potions after it had a chance to dry and get all the unnecessary moisture out.
Samara shook her head as her thoughts tried to run from her. She was avoiding teleporting.
"Say goodbye to Vail, Phlox. We'll be back soon. Lanucae magicae," As soon as the words left her lips, the world around them blurred and they were specs coursing through time and space. Teleporting felt simultaneously like the weightlessness of falling from a height and being shoved inside a tube that was 4 sizes too small; and the further the teleportation was, the stronger that feeling became. Altogether it was a very disorienting and unpleasant experience. Which was Samara's excuse when she landed on her knees in the Spellman's living room. The first sounds she heard were her Auntie Hilda's squeal of excitement and her Auntie Z's scoff of irritation.
"Honestly Samara. You've been teleporting since you were 16 and you still can't land standing? What are you learning in Colorado?" Auntie Z's voice was full of exasperation and fondness.
"Oh never you mind your Auntie Z. My darling Samara! My gorgeous girl! Look at you! All grown up! Oh my, you look famished! Come come, let's get some yummies into you." Aunt Hilda grasped her hand and coaxed her to the dining table. Zelda followed close behind. Before Samara sat, she encased her taller Aunt in a tight hug.
"I know I've already congratulated you on your upcoming nuptials but still, I'm happy you're happy Auntie Z," Samara's grin was wide as she looked up at her stiff Aunt. Affection had never come easily from her Aunt Zelda. It was always a hard earned reward. Once Samara had grown older, she found it amusing to initiate gentle affections with her cold aunt and watch the woman grow uncomfortable at the suddenness.
Samara had taken after her Aunt Hilda in many ways. Many of those being her ease with comfort and affection. Samara was always quick with a warm hug and soft words. She also took up after her Aunt in ways of cooking and potion making. Her Aunt Zelda had passed along her rational mind and Samara was ever thankful. It would've been too easy to let her caring nature rule her life if it wouldn't have been for the sensible thinking that Zelda had drilled into her from a painfully young age. So Samara was able to keep her soft heart available for those who needed it most and not every bleeding thing she saw. Her family, though, would always be ones that she held near and dear to her heart.
"Yes, yes. The Spellman name will once again hold greatness and honour. The Anti-Pope himself is blessing us at our wedding. Isn't that just marvelous?" Zelda's head was held high as she spoke and expertly extricated herself from Samara's hold. The young witch internally rolled her eyes. As far as the witching community cared the Spellman name was not in turmoil or despair. However in her Auntie Z's eyes, with her cousin Sabrina's recent antics, their name was.
Samara had been kept abreast of any and all activities and schemes her dear cousin was up to. Between refusing to sign the Book of the Beast, her antics at the Academy and her troubles with her mortal friends, the rest of their small family was in quite the tizzy. Samara couldn't blame the young witch though.
She remembered her own hesitancies when she had to sign the Book. Much like her cousin she didn't want to lose her freedom and choice. But at her Aunts' insistences she had reluctantly ambled to her Dark Baptism. She could recall the night beginning bitterly cold. Her black lace dress had brushed the sides of her thighs as her bare feet crunched the dead leaves beneath her feet. The forest was abysmally dark besides the glowing in the grove she was headed. The arch of branches had lit and waited to deem her worthy of entering. Samara could remember the prey fear she felt tightening her spine and settling like a stone in her belly; the anxiety that constricted her chest and made her mind tingle. She had stopped before the branches, her eyes wide as they consumed they blue hellfire scared that she'd be deemed unworthy and burned for her troubles. Her thoughts had left her and all that'd remained was worry and fear. She'd been ready to turn and run. Run from the Coven and their expectations. Just as her foot had begun to step back, she'd frozen. In what seemed like a heartbeat, her anxiety and worry disappeared. In their place sat warmth and reassurance; like an ivy vine curling around her body. She could breathe. Where once she worried about her loss of self as a person, there was something there assuring her that she'd be safe, always. It had been enough to straighten her spine and walk through the hellfire that caressed her skin like feathers. She had stood beside her Aunties, two beautiful pillars of strength that they were. She had looked upon Father Blackwood, her mind screaming wrong, bad, stay away as the man approached her. She knew it wasn't to do with the Dark Baptism but rather the man itself. Her shoulders had tensed as he drew a sigil on her forehead. Her teeth had clenched as he drew the blade across her palm. She had ignored his curious gaze as the wound healed near instantly once the blood had dropped onto the Book. Just as she had picked up the quill and readied it to sign her name, she felt it. The lightest caress at the junction where her shoulder met her neck. Knowing it was something otherworldly since Blackwood stood across from her. Samara had taken comfort in it and assumed it was what gave her strength to enter the clearing. With that renewed strength, she signed her name with a flourish. Intense joy and contentment has filled her as the sky ricocheted with bright lightning. In that moment, she had never felt more at home.
Her reminiscing was brought to a halt as her Aunt Z drew her attention once more.
"As glad as I am to see you Samara, I must head back to the Academy and prepare for tomorrow. I will see you then." Her Aunt had nodded and away she went. Samara watched her walk away with fondness; able to see the nerves beneath her aunt's skin.
"She really is happy to have you home, Samara. We all are." Aunt Hilda placed a little cup of tea on a saucer with sweets. Samara happily nibbled on her Aunt's offerings. She missed her Aunt's cooking and baking the most when she originally left.
"I'm happy to be back Aunt Hilda. I've missed all of you so much." Samara had looked up at her Aunt to show the earnestness she felt. Hilda was quick to smile and squeeze her hand at her seat beside her. Her smile turned slightly pleading.
"Perhaps, what with Zelda marrying the High Priest, you might be convinced to join us again. I'm sure there's loads of things you could teach Sabrina. And we would be overjoyed if you'd stay!" Aunt Hilda squeezed her hand again, rubbing her thumb back and forth over Samara's hand. Samara had chuckled and looked away.
"I think it's for the best that I stay in Colorado. As much as I miss and want to stay with you guys, I couldn't become a part of the Church of Night here. Besides, I've made a home for myself in Vain. The Coven there and the townspeople wouldn't know what to do without my herbs and brews. On another note, even with Auntie Z marrying Blackwood, I doubt I could stay in the same room as him for long." Samara's tone had taken on a darker quality. Phlox had quickly come to Samara's side as her mood started to shift. He was quick to rub along her legs and nip the cookie from her fingers. Succeeding in lifting her mood, he settled down with her snack as Samara laughed and lightly scolded him.
"I figured it was worth a try. No matter, luv. How do you feel helping me get rid of a problem for Zelds?" Hilda was pleased at the mischievous smile her niece shot at her.
"Anything for you guys. What's the plan?"
"Well first, we're going to have to visit the potion pantry, then we're going to bake some biscuits." Samara's mind was quick to shoot off possibilities her Aunt was meaning. She had always loved helping her Aunt cook and bake. It was what got her so interested in potion making and with her Aunt's help she had quickly excelled in that area. Samara was quick to gesture to her Aunt to lead the way.
"I'd be thrilled to share with you some of my experiments I've done with potions and food."
"Well my darling, I'm open to suggestions."