Amity stared into the mirror in her room, her eyes darting around at the reflections of the few various personal items she kept on the shelves behind her. The room was tidy, as always, and aside from an Azura The Good Witch statuette partially hidden on her full bookshelf of magical textbooks, the decor consisted of numerous Emperor's crests and various recruitment posters for the Emperor's Coven featuring the great Lillith Clawthorne; the coven head mistress and the white robed guardsmen. Seams between the posters revealed soft pink brick walls lit by candles, and gave the room a claustrophobic feeling that had been opened up by a large bay window that overlooked the Titan's chest with a view of the Emperor's castle in the far distance. A childhood plushie of Otabin the Bookmaker stared sadly back at her from the pillow on her bed.
Returning her gaze back to her own sillouhette, she had neither the need, nor the desire to talk herself up like she knew Boscha often did as a part of her morning routine. The golden star that she pinned to her black cowl that hung over her shoulders, identifying her as Hexside Magic School's Top Student was enough validation, and her latest school project would be enough to solidify her position through the rest of the academic year at least. As if reacting to her thoughts, the large clay pot that housed her sure to be prize winning abomination stirred, causing the lid to rattle slightly. With an icy glare she forced the pot full of ooze to settle, pushing down the emotions that she knew could interfere with Abomination control.
Running her fingers through her loose, parted hair, Amity pulled her bangs back into a tuft of a ponytail, her green dyed hair falling straight to either side perfectly. It allowed for maximum concentration, and portrayed the kind of professionalism that would be sought by the Emperor's Coven. If she could ace this presentation in Abomination class, Mr. Spleenum might just give his recommendation to put her on the fast track to being accepted by the prestigious group.
A moment before she was about to stand, the red gem that hung on a cord around her neck glowed brightly, and her mother's unmistakable voice chimed in her head. "Mittens, breakfast! You don't want to be late for your presentation today, do you?"
"No, mom." She replied curtly, keeping her emotions in check. Having an oracle for a parent could be exhausting. While she didn't think her thoughts could be read directly, Amity knew that even Oracles with mediocre skills could pick up surface thoughts and emotions, granting the illusion of fortune telling. She wasn't entirely certain of the extent of her mother's abilities, but she didn't want her personal thoughts to become a public forum for her mother's group of jabbering mouthers. "I will be right there."
She picked up the Magic 101 text book from the corner of her desk, smoothed out her grey tunic as she stood, and flicked off a spot of lint before drawing a small glowing spell circle in the air, causing the clay pot full of ooze to lift itself and begin floating toward her bedroom door and down the stairs before being deposited in the wheelbarrow that was waiting for her. She could smell dragon eggs sizzling, as well as fresh marrow bread and an assortment of other Boiling Isles breakfast cuisine that were a part of the everyday morning routine in the Blight Manor.
Her twin older brother and sister were already in place on either side of the long dining table, being served by a number of service abominations that slowly but carefully brought plates of food to each member of the family. Their mother, Odalia Blight, CEO of Blight Industries and the matriarch of the Blight family, sat with perfect posture and a shallow glass of apple blood as she oversaw her children. "Are you prepared for your presentation, Mittens?"
Amity winced for a moment at the nickname that always seemed to be reserved for what felt like the fake moments of family intimacy she shared with her parents. "Yes, mom." She said, forcing a smile. "I think Mr. Spleenum will be happy. I've really been working on my contr…"
"Well he will need to be more than 'happy' if you want that recommendation for the Emperor's Coven. Honestly, Amity, I hope you realize how important such a recommendation could be, both for your future, and the future of our family." Odalia said, swirling her glass. All the while during the exchange, Edric and Emira were casting subtle illusions on the service abominations to keep themselves entertained.
"Of course. I just meant…"
"Yes, yes. You'd best finish your breakfast and be on your way. Your father is in his workshop already working on several new ideas for this years Annual Blight Industries Private Sale. I'm sure you'll all be free to assist." Odalia continued, cutting off Amity's explanation. It wasn't a question.
Edric and Emira nodded, though it wasn't immediately clear if they were even paying attention. Amity slouched in her chair. Honestly, as great as the prestige of being accepted into the Emperor's Coven would be, the idea of living in the castle was an equal draw. "Of course, mom." she mumbled. It wasn't like she had any other plans. It was bad enough when Edric and Emira said their mother was already planning dates for her with other equally powerful witches from other schools. Amity certainly didn't need that kind of distraction right now. The annual Covention was right around the corner, and she wanted to show Ms. Clawthorne the progress she had made in her abomination creation skills. Boys were the last thing on her mind.
Amity ate her breakfast in relative silence, the only noise being the groans of the service abominations and the clinking of utensils on dishware from the trio of teens, much to their mother's quiet annoyance. Amity was moving slowly, focused more on reading the textbook she had taken from her room; required approved reading by the Emperor's Coven itself. A subtle gesture from Odalia that went unnoticed by Amity signalled the abominations to gather the leftover food and dishes before she was even finished her meal and Amity could feel her skin fluster with frustration. "Your focus on school work is to be commended, Mittens, but I simply don't have the time to supervise you. Your brother and sister are already on their way. I've already taken the liberty of animating your transport, so as long as you don't stop, you should be able to study on your way to school and still be on time. Now, get presentable and make certain you bring home another grade your father and I can be proud of."
Surprised that she hadn't noticed Ed and Em disappear from the table, Amity frowned, but nodded. She wasn't overly worried about being late for her presentation, as she was always on time. Especially if her brother and sister weren't travelling with her. Excusing herself from the table and bookmarking her text page, she proceeded to brush her fangs and began the trek toward Hexside, the wheelbarrow carrying her abomination glowing the telltale green of her mother's magic as she rode atop it and continued her reading.
It was perhaps a half hour before she heard a familiar voice in distress. She was nearly to the point in her text that would explain the formula to reshape an abomination after its construction, so that a determined witch could potentially create or even subdue, a combat equipped creature. Of course, her father created some of the greatest abominations known through the Boiling Isles, so she doubted such a skill would come into play any time soon. Amity looked down from her perch atop the clay pot that she was transporting and smiled. Willow Park. Another young witch of unremarkable skill; the same age as Amity, was kneeling in the dirt in front of some kind of weed. They had been friends, once upon a time, but frivolous relationships had become less and less important as Amity had grown up. The last few years had taught Amity that connections were what mattered on your way to becoming a powerful witch. Friends could only carry you so far in life, and Willow simply didn't have the magical skill to get Amity anywhere in life.
"Willow! Wow." Amity exclaimed, sliding off the clay pot. "You're so unnoticeable, I almost rolled into you." She jabbed. The passive insult obviously stung Willow, showing in the small weed she was kneeling in front of, and a twinge of guilt stabbed at her own heart at the same time. She hid it behind a wall of course, as she had become so practiced at doing.
"Hi, Amity." Willow mumbled in a squeaky voice. The spectacled witch stood, cowering slightly in embarrassment. Willow always had pale skin, accentuated by shoulder length black hair and a heavier physique than Amity's more athletic build.
"Uh, shouldn't you get to class early to prep your..." Amity trailed off as a clay pot similar to Amity's, though not as decorative, that jostled in a nearby wheelbarrow tipped and spilled, dumping it's purple abomination ooze onto the ground; likely agitated by Willows growing frustration. The ooze was thin compared to an ideal abomination, and had no cohesion as it spread over the grass. An eyeball woefully blinked and a gurgling moan could be heard as the poor creature struggled to gather itself to no avail. "Oh, Willow. You don't have anything to show, do you?" She asked, and Willow turned away and pulled up her hood. After feeling so small this morning under her mother's gaze, Amity felt powerful here. She stood tall, even though she felt pity for her old friend. Obviously, a demonstration of what a skilled witch could do would be the best help she could provide. "This is why people call you 'Half‐a‐Witch Willow." she added, moving back from the goop on the ground to stand beside her own clay pot again.
As if in response to her desire to help Willow, the clay pot rattled and groaned. "Oh, looks like someone wants to say something to you." Amity smugly lifted the lid off of the clay pot and set it aside. "Abomination, rise." she commanded, snapping her fingers as she did. The purple ooze inside began to bubble and thicken, forming into a viscous tentacle before gaining a roughly humanoid shape with a vaguely monstrous face and thick, powerful arms that gently reached out to Willow.
The abomination touched Willow's forehead with a surprising tenderness, awkwardly drawing a star-like shape in leftover purple ooze. "You're a... star." It gurgled. Amity was still struggling to keep her subconscious emotions from feeding her abomination creations, and she quickly spoke out defensively.
"Aw. It's like mine." she pointed out, drawing attention to the gold pin on her cowl. "But much smaller and meaningless." she smiled, settling more into her superiority. "As top student, it's my duty to tell you to keep at it." Amity claimed, clapping Willow on the shoulder as the shorter witch continued to stay silently intimidated. "Even you could get a passing grade someday." Another friendly clap on Willow's shoulder signalled that Amity was ready to move on, and she turned on her heel. "Abomination, cower." The abomination slithered back into it's natural fluid state in its clay pot, and Amity lifted the handles of the wheelbarrow, proceeding to push it the rest of the way to school. "See you in class, superstar." The biting sarcasm came out a bit stronger than she had intended, but she wasn't concerned. Willow was a blip, and certainly wouldn't be an obstacle on her way to the top.