The salty sea air brushed her cheek, the sounds of crashing waves against the cliff wall below resonated all around her, and the light that emanated from the full moon reflected off the distant sea, leaving a trail of shimmering ripples far into the horizon. It was as if the light compelled her to take a step, a leap of faith off the promontory to land upon the path of moonlight. Her heart ached from this unknown desire, how badly did she want to command her body to reciprocate the feeling, to be certain of this spontaneous act. She took a step closer to the edge, but she was afraid. Of what, she did not know, but it pushed back, preventing her from getting any closer. Her lips moved, she cried out, but not a sound came, she blinked as she felt the tears run freely down her face.
One more step, just a bit closer, but she was so tired, her legs trembled before collapsing beneath her, falling to her hands. Tears left damp spots on the ground before her. Why was she crying? Why couldn't she stop? With an arm, she rubbed at her puffy, bloodshot eyes, taking a labored breath. Her entire body was shivering, almost as if there was an incredible weight holding her down and keeping her in place. A pained grimace marked her countenance, looking out through bleary eyes, she could see the moonlight fading, the path before her beginning to dissipate. Again, no sound escaped her as she struggled to call out to this unknown force.
"W-wait," she said in an almost indiscernible whisper, "D-don't go…"
Everything was going dark now, the sounds were muting, the sweet sea air had stilled. What was happening? Everything was disappearing, only her heartache seemed to intensify. Darkness encroached around her, creeping in closer and closer, but it stopped, her eyes went wide at the sight of a flutter. She strained her vision, at last catching the movement again. It was a leaf, light pink in color, held adrift by the slightest breeze, swinging back and forth as it fell. It landed delicately on her hand, she stared at it intently and it filled her with inexplicable sadness. A moment passed, and she hadn't realized that a myriad of petal-like leaves in all sorts of pink hues danced and flitted about her. All of a sudden, her body no longer felt heavy, her senses returned, and the darkness of the world was beginning to recede, as if escaping the brilliant color of the pink, fallen leaves.
"What's happening?" she whispered to herself, sitting up and letting the flora fall into her cupped hands. Again, she could feel a tear running down her cheek. "W-why am I crying?" Her hands closed, crushing the leaves within, her grip tightening as something in her chest seemed to strain.
"A tree… there's something about this tree." Her hands relaxed, revealing the crumpled remains of pink that were swiftly carried off by a mysterious breeze from behind. There was something there, the source to these feelings, of her ambivalence. Still on her knees, she turned to face not a tree, but a person instead, tall and thin, a silhouette looking down on her.
The sunlight shone from above, forcing her to squint her eyes to clearly see who this was. She was beautiful, almost regal in presence alone, green hair taught and made into a neat bun, wide eyes filled with concern. She knelt down before her, a gentle hand reaching out and wiping away the remaining tears on her small, fearful, childish face.
"Oh, Amity, dear, are you alright?" her mother said, the tenderness of her voice bringing a familiar comfort. "I told you not to run off like that. Let's take a look."
Amity looked down, she was clutching her leg just below a scrape on her knee, a trickle of blood just visible. She sniffled, holding back more tears as her mother's hand lightly inspected her injured leg. Guilt was beginning to creep up on her, regretting her careless disregard for her mother's words. She wanted to apologize, but her trembling lips only let out quiet whimpers.
Her mother hushed gently, "You'll be just fine. Here," she leaned forward, planting a light kiss on Amity's forehead, just below her light brown hair. "With this spell declared, let the pain be shared," she whispered low, emanating a glitter of magic around the injury and how own ankle. "Now, isn't that better?"
Amity stared at her leg in awe, looking up with a wide grin on her face. Her mother smiled in return, still kneeling, she brushed her daughter's hair behind her ear. They stood up and carried on down the road, the slightest limp on both of their strides. At that moment, time and space seemed completely imperceptible. The thought of where she was going didn't cross her mind, as the feeling of her mother's hand in her own, such safety and comfort and guidance, was all that mattered.
A blur of images and scenes rolled past them, but Amity's fixation remained up towards her mother as they walked. Every now and then she would look down and smile, filling Amity with such inexplicable delight. It was another moment before she realized it, but the two were walking through a bustling market of Bonesboroug, sounds of gossip and bartering filled the air, odd smells she could never put her finger on permeated the merchant isles. But the sights of such a place would always captivate her, instill such wonder and curiosity; the magic, the creatures, the relics and artifacts, on every visit there would be a new discovery that would fuel her desire for more. On this visit, she noticed something she knew she had to have.
"Mom! Look," she grabbed the book off a pile of what seemed like odd artifacts and garbage, "The Good Witch Azura… pretty. Her hair is almost the same color as yours! I've never seen this book before."
"Of course not!" The sudden outburst from a gray haired woman startled the pair, "Watcha got there's a bonafide human-written book! A little trite and corny for my taste, but hey, what else can you expect from humans."
In an instant, her mother reached out for her hand and began to pull her along, completely disregarding the witch. "Don't concern yourself with such things. Leave it."
"But, mom!"
"Amity, listen!" she turned, a near scowl on her face. "Such things… they will do you no good. Let's go."
Amity dug her heels into the dirt and pulled back against her mother's grasp. "No! I just want the book!" Again her mother paused, taking a moment to take a slow breath before turning to see her daughter's stern face, eyes brimming with tears. She leaned down on a knee and looked towards her, but there was no anger or admonition in her eyes, but instead a look of tender understanding. It was a look that pierced Amity's heart, instilled in her the conflicting feelings of both safety and guilt. Again, she was going against her mother's word, doing the wrong thing, being a troublesome nuisance on an otherwise perfect day. The world around them was becoming bleak, the sounds of the market fading along with it. The book remained clutched tightly in her small arms.
"Let me see that," she said, her voice sweet and low. Amity hesitated, but reluctantly presented it before her. She took hold of it, inspected its cover, briefly flipped through the pages and then glanced at the back, expression unchanging. "Humans writing about magic. None of this is accurate, of course. There is no value in reading this. As is the case with all human rubbish."
There was a silent pause, and with another lookover of the book, she extended it towards Amity, who stared with wide, unblinking eyes, uncertain of the gesture. She tentatively reached out and took it into her hands, once again pressing it against her chest. She was left speechless, afraid that saying anything would change her mother's mind.
"Let me just pay and we'll be on our way. But there is something we must discuss when we get home."
All Amity could do was nod as she watched her mother exchange short words with the witch before an exchange of a disproportionate amount of snails for any single book. She hadn't noticed, but the market had become silent, there was no movement about stalls, and even the sky seemed to have faded suddenly into night. Before she could react, her mother was beside her, beckoning her with an outstretched hand. Amity grabbed hold and was led forward down an empty, dark path, a doorway lit by an unknown source a short distance away. Her mother led them through before releasing her grasp and walking over to the bed, taking a seat. Amity stood at the doorway of her bedroom, trepidation preventing her from moving any closer.
"Come, sit," her mother insisted, patting on a space beside her on the bed. After a moment of hesitation, Amity moved forward and sat an arm's length away, her grip tightening around her book as if protecting it from harm. "Closer, dear, it's alright." Amity shuffled closer, an incredulous look on her face. As soon as she moved into arms' reach, she was pulled into an embrace, close and warm, she couldn't help but lean into it. She could feel a hand gently caress her hair, the soothing feeling almost lulling her to sleep.
"Amity," she released her, parting slightly and giving a light brush against her sleepy face. "Listen, dear. There is something you must understand when it comes to such things on the Boiling Isles. Humans, deceptions, troublemakers, imposters… such disturbances are ubiquitous and have been ravaging the land for many years. This world is a dangerous place, and one misstep down the wrong path... one mistake can all too easily lead to one's demise." Her words were sullen, a solemn expression put Amity on alert, no longer feeling the enticement of sleep.
"But the world is changing under the rule of Emperor Belos, and I cannot say for certain if it will be for the better… What I do know is that we must abide by this new world order. Over the years, our family has resided above the social and economic hierarchy of the Boiling Isles. It is a precarious position that grants power and prestige, yet attracts perpetual scrutiny and danger. If we are not careful, if we diverge from our path… that which has been set by the Emperor, we can lose everything. That is not what I want for my daughter. Do you understand?" With a gentle hand, she lifted Amity's chin to see her quizzical expression.
"I-I think so… but what does it have to do with my book?"
"It is not my desire to stifle your interests, and yes, a book is rather innocuous, even if it is from the human world. Which is why I will allow you to keep it. But let this be a lesson… such things must be kept hidden. Do not let them distract you, or blind you from your true purpose." Again, she pulled Amity into an embrace, Amity gave no resistance and quickly fell into a comfortable position in her mother's arms. The gentle, rhythmic caress on her head once again soothed her. "You will become a great and powerful witch, Amity. And you will fulfill every one of your desires… as long as you remain on this path. Now… promise me, you will do as I say."
Bleary eyes looked out to her room, everything going dark as sleep began to set in. She yawned, feeling so comfortable, so secure and certain of her mother's presence.
"I promise," she said as her eyes closed, sleep at last overtaking her consciousness.
It was as if she had simply blinked, but she was awake again, no longer tired, but disoriented, as if her mind and body had suddenly been shifted and swung about with no concern. Looking around, she was in her room, evening sunlight coming through her window and basking her bedroom in a warm, temperate glow. In an instant, a sudden, forlorn feeling permeated her heart, tears brimmed her eyes anew and soon fell freely down her cheeks. She stood at the center of her room, unable to move as thoughts of regret and shame filled her mind.
"Willow," she said, mumbling through trembling lips, "I'm… I'm sorry."
She knelt down in place, burying her face in her knees as the tears continued to fall, unconstrained. She had not realized the door opening and someone approached until she felt a gentle hand settle utop her head. A reactionary flinch escaped her, looking up with bloodshot eyes to face her mother, a soft frown on her countenance, sincere concern in her eyes.
"Mom… why?" Amity mumbled through her sobs. "Willow… was my friend."
Her mother hushed gently, pulling Amity into an embrace and holding her there for a long moment, allowing the tears to dampen her shoulder. Resentment began to overtake her thoughts, she wanted to push away, but she felt so weak, so helpless. What choice did she have, to reject her mother would leave her with nothing, alone and in complete solitude.
"It is for the best, dear" she said at last, only fueling the anger rising within Amity.
"No!" she said, newfound courage allowing her to pry herself from her mother's arms and take a few steps back, "Why did you make me do that? Why did I have to hurt Willow…?"
"Amity… listen. I know this is difficult. But you must understand. Don't you remember-"
"I do… but," her words caught in her throat, she didn't know what she was trying to say. It hurt so much, but there really was no other alternative. Her mother was right. She was always right. Being friends with Willow was a hindrance. The simple thought of that crossing her mind struck a blow to her heart. How could she even think that? Amity didn't care that Willow struggled with her magic, that she wasn't the progeny of some patrician or noble family lineage. But perhaps that was the point. Amity struggled with these thoughts, a feeble attempt to convince herself that what she had done was, in fact, the right choice.
"You and Willow…" her mother began, provoking a tear-filled glare from Amity, "I know this is difficult, I know exactly what you are going through. Our family, both your father and I, have only gotten this far by forgoing many things, many people from our lives. You must understand that loss is necessary to succeed."
"What if I don't care about that? I care about Willow-"
"Can't you see, Amity?" her mother's voice rose as she stood erect, imposing and tall above her daughter, who retreated slightly and looked on with wide, frightful eyes. "You want to be a great witch. You want power and great renown. And I promised that you would achieve that and more. But only if you were to follow my lead."
"B-but-"
"Listen, You and Willow are from two different worlds. She could never fit into the life you desire, the life you have been working so hard to achieve. Nor could you fit into her's. But let me tell you this…" Her voice softened along with her countenance, "I want you to succeed, Amity. Because I know you will be capable of so much. And maybe then… the only path you will follow will be your own. But until then, You must remain focused. You will join the Emperor's Coven, rise up the ranks, master any and all magic, and only then will there be no one left to tell you what to do."
Amity remained silent, averting her eyes from her mother who let out an audible sigh. Her mother's words echoed in her mind, the promise of the power and strength to no longer have to follow anyone's direction but her own. To practice any magic, to rise above all else, to be able to choose her own friends, no matter who they may be. If abiding by her mother's word was the price she had to pay, then so be it. This was her choice, she assured herself over and over again.
"Come," said her mother with an outstretched hand, "Let us return to the party. There are a few guests that I would like you to meet."
Amity took her hand wordlessly, she was almost entirely limp as her mother pulled her along. She watched as mother and daughter disappeared through the door, catching the glint of a tear still running down the little girl's face as the door shut, leaving her alone in the room.
"Is this… is this really what I've chosen? Is this the path I'm meant to follow…?" Her room had faded away, wisps of color left her in near darkness, a hazy, white glow, like that of a fog, seemed to emanate from nowhere. She looked around but couldn't see anything beyond a short distance away, from there, the haze and darkness permeated into a smooth, grass-like surface. She took a step forward, and then another, but nothing changed, still, the mirror-like surface returned her quizzical expression.
"W-what's going on. Where am I?"
She stared intently, eventually noticed something there, a vague image before her, as if she were looking through a dirty, hazy window. It was her, but much younger, sitting on a high stool, her mother standing over her, gloved hands spreading a green goo evenly through her hair. The expression on the little girl was one of conflicting glee, a smile on her face that seemed less than genuine. Then The image began to distort, breaking down and reforming into a new scene. Boscha and Skara were there, much younger, standing beside an Amity that was just about the same age. They looked at each other with curious glances, Amity feigning a smile before the other two girls returned to their previously held conversation. A young Amity standing on the sidelines, a strained smile stuck her face. Again, the image distorted, dissipating and reforming into something new.
This time, she didn't look much different than she did now, but something was off. The image before her was distorting, cracking, as if a gentle touch could bring it all crashing down. She extended her arm, fingertips outstretched, almost touching the glassy surface, but she hesitated. Something was holding her back, an imposing force that restricted her movements and kept her in place. Once again, a bourdon seemed to press heavy on her heart. The image before her continued to malform before her eyes, cracks beginning to appear and spread about in all directions. She knew this wasn't right, that whatever was within this fragile plane was the source of her ambivalence. Or perhaps it was the solution, she could not say with any certainty. With a strained expression, she compelled herself to get just a bit closer, nearly touching it before someone took hold of her shoulder, pulling her back and twisting her around.
"M-mother?" Amity mumbled through trembling lips. "What are you-"
"How many times have I told you, Amity," she said, her austere and commanding voice taking Amity aback, striking through her core and nearly breaking her down. "You must let go."
"Let go…? Let go of what?" she cried, the audacity behind her words faltering.
"There is nothing to fear now… just let go. Take my hand, dear. Everything will be alright if you follow my lead."
Amity stared at the outstretched hand, looking back and forth between her mother's now gentle expression, and the inviting gesture before her. The certainty of such safety being offered to her was alluring, compelling her to raise her own hand, to forgo all of those conflicted feelings and once again find comfort in the known conformity of her life. A smile came to her mother's face as she approached. This was the right choice, but it felt so wrong. Why did her mind resist when everything she's ever wanted was right there before her, so easily within her grasp. All she had to do was take her mother's hand, accept the invitation to greatness and power. Yet, she couldn't help but question that desire, a desire so long ingrained in her mind for as long as she could remember.
"Wait," she stopped in her tracks, their hands now only a short distance away. Her mother's face fell. "This… this isn't right. I-I don't want this!"
"You insolent, petulant child," she said, a harsh grimace adorned her features, "you dare throw it all away for… for some human!"
"Some… human?" Amity mouthed to herself. "What?" Her eyes widened at a sudden jolt through her entire body. There was something wrong, something missing. She needed to find the source of these feelings, of this mysterious pull. She turned on a heel, lunging forward with reckless abandon and breaking through into endless darkness.
She landed on her hands and knees, breathing rapidly as if she had just been through something incredibly strenuous. The sounds and smells hit her instantly, the rustling of leaves hummed as the sweet sea air blew past, the rhythmic crashing of waves against the rocks permeated the night. A slow, long breath regained her composure. She stood and looked out over the distant water towards the beautiful full moon, sitting precariously on the brim of the horizon.
"Here again. This place feels so… right." An inexplicable smile overcame her, a newfound glee filled her heart. Pink, petal-like leaves began to fall about her, encircling her, a few falling into her open palms. She pressed them gently against her chest. There was something else there, something more. It was the unmistakable feeling of another presence, but it lacked the dread that she had so painfully become accustomed to. Amity hesitated for only an instant before turning, falling leaves obscuring her view for only a moment. The air settled and the world seemed to come to a standstill at the sight of the girl standing before her.
"Luz!" She shot up, heart beating rapidly in her chest, her breathing was short and quick. It took her several moments to realize where she was, taking a moment to recognize her darkened room through her bleary vision. She was sitting on her bed, wearing a dress that she now recognized to be from that evening's dinner. At that thought, her mind suddenly raced, the memories of her mother, their argument, and Luz.
"Luz," she whispered to herself, looking about to see the girl lying beside her on the bed. Quickly, she twisted upright, taking the unresponsive girl by the shoulders and giving her a gentle shake, from which she got no response.
"Luz… Luz wake up!" she said feebly, a tremble in her voice as panic began to set in. She hadn't realized the door to her room had opened behind her, someone inviting themselves in.
"Ah, I see you're awake," came the calm and lethargic voice of her father, startling Amity from her futile efforts. "I'm glad. I knew you'd come through."
"D-dad! What… what's happening? What are you doing here? Why isn't Luz waking up?" Her voice was frantic and rising with every question. Her father took another step inside, raising his hands in a calming gesture.
"Hold on, hold on… let me explain." He gave a heavy sigh, looking about the floor as if he were reconsidering what he was about to say. "Do you recall the last thing that happened? I assume as much since you remember your friend here."
"I remember… mother… what did she do?"
"Ah… she put you both under a particularly powerful spell. She is rather adept at such things, you see. She intended to erase both of your memories regarding each other." Amity could see his tired eyes in the darkness looking away, guilt in his slight frown. He slicked back his hair with a hand, almost as if in an excuse to avoid eye contact.
"But… I remember Luz. Does that mean it didn't work?"
"That is where this becomes… complex. I did what I could to counteract the spell on you. There is no sure way to do so, of course, but you could say I allowed your subconscious a bit more of a fighting chance to decide on whether you wanted to lose those particular memories or not. I made it so that you had a choice on the matter."
"A-and what about Luz? You countered the spell on her, too, right?"
Another heavy sigh escaped him, he flexed his slump shoulders and let them hang, looking about the room to avoid Amity's pleading gaze. "To perform such counterspells is a strenuous task… I only had enough strength for you."
Her heart hitched, her insides twisting as she took a moment to process what she just heard. "Luz… Luz won't remember me anymore?"
Her father approached the bed, kneeling down to look up to her with tired, heavy lidded eyes, an expression that seemed rather impassive, but sympathetic. His hand brushed away a single tear that had begun to trail down her cheek.
"I am sorry, truly. I know I have wronged you by standing idly by all these years. Your mother and I have always wanted the best for you, but I am beginning to believe that you are much more capable of deciding what that means for yourself. Which is why I still want to give you a choice to make now."
Amity didn't say anything, but looked at him with a quizzical expression.
"I may not have been able to help your friend, but you still can, Amity. By morning, she will have no recollection of you, unless you enter her mind and act as a guide for her subconscious. You still have a chance to prevent her from losing those memories forever. It is a perilous task, one that you do not have to take. But it is up to you to decide. If you wish to remain in this girl's life, I can still perform that spell."
Amity steeled, conviction returning to her countenance as she looked to her father. This was her choice now. She wasn't going to allow her mother to take that away now. Not for her or Luz. Whatever may come, be it pain or hurt or loss, it was time she faced it on her own accord.
"I'll do it," she whispered, turning to look over Luz's sleeping face. "Don't worry, Luz. I won't let you forget. We'll get through this together."