Chapter 1: Last Lesson
Madame Suliman leaned back in her wheelchair and gave her apprentice Howl an appraising look. "Very impressive Howl, your mastery of self-transfiguration never ceases to amaze me," the old witch said. A gigantic humanoid crow circled thirty feet overhead before swooping down to alight in front of her on the grass. The midnight-black feathers and magnificent wings receded into human arms and the enormous talons reverted back into feet; before her stood her young apprentice, clad in a high-collared salmon-and-black cape, underneath which he wore a puffy long-sleeved white shirt and black pants that accentuated the length of his legs. His unruly black hair was tousled over his blue-grey eyes as a result of his transformation, but the teenaged wizard made no effort to sweep his bangs aside.
Kingsbury's Head Sorceress, resplendent in flowing crimson robes and squat wizarding cap, fixed her young disciple with a penetrating gaze. She had already given the notion of graduating Howl to the rank of full-fledged wizard plenty of thought. Racking her brain now for any single reason as to why she shouldn't, she could come up with none. Despite his manner of dress, Howl was ever the model disciple during their lessons. Suliman never had to tell him anything more than once, and he picked up concepts and theories faster than any student she had previously taught. He will go far, this one, she often thought to herself. There is just one more lesson that needs imparting before he is ready to take the Sorcerer's Compact. She gestured that the two of them head back inside to her greenhouse.
The myriad smells of exotic flowers and trees greeted them as they entered the glass structure where Madame Suliman held her lessons with Howl. She motioned for him to take a seat while she rolled her cushioned high-back wheelchair to face her apprentice. "Howl, there isn't a doubt in my mind that you are the most accomplished pupil I have yet to, and will ever, train," Suliman began. Howl never could keep a smirk from crossing his features whenever praise was thrown his way. "Such magical proficiency at your young age is virtually unheard of," she continued. "I believe you are ready to sign the Sorcerer's Compact and be granted all the rights and privileges of a full-fledged wizard."
Howl's smile only grew wider, and his eyes glowed with delight. "Thank you, Mistress," Howl inclined his head, his voice full of barely-contained mirth and anticipation. Madame Suliman knew how much her precocious pupil wanted this. Freedom; it was the one thing that had fueled him to excel beyond anyone's wildest expectations these past eight years, since he had began his apprenticeship with her. Young Howl wanted more than anything to be free of the shackles and restrictions that came with being a wizard in service to the palace and the crown. He longed to carve his own path in the world, and he wished to do it in his own way, of that there had never been any question.
Yet while she was at first smiling along with her apprentice, Madame Suliman's façade took on its all-too-familiar stern scowl. Howl's grin shrank by a few molars. "But, the fact that you will be the youngest student I have ever graduated just goes to underscore how important my last lesson to you will be," counseled Howl's teacher.
A sharp rap of Suliman's elder staff on the floor caused the bright greens and browns of the greenhouse to melt into a dark twilight sky. The rhythmic chanting of little humanoid spark-demons punctuated the night air as a circle of them appeared and began dancing around the two seated wizards. In between them, the silhouette of a young woman materialized itself into existence.
Tall and slender, with alabaster skin and a pleasing figure, she peered out at the world behind heavily lidded eyes and a confident, almost cocky, smile. Long folds of black velvet were draped over her body, and she sported a shawl of black fur-like material over her trim shoulders. A wide-brimmed hat decorated with the plumage of many exotic birds lent her face a dark air of mystery about it. Howl's gaze was utterly fixated upon the beautiful woman.
"Howl, meet the Witch of Wastes," introduced Madame Suliman.
"Charmed…" drawled Howl, his gaze never wavering.
"Once upon a time, she appeared as you see her now, a powerful young witch in her prime, supremely confident in herself and in her powers. She was also extremely ambitious, due in part to her youth. In order to realize her ambitions, she made a pact with a demon. Her heart in exchange for eternal youth." Madame Suliman tapped her staff once more. One of the spark-demons participating in the singing conga line broke away from its friends and jumped into the Witch of the Wastes' outstretched palm. The witch and demon held a whispered conversation between the two of them before the witch swallowed the little humanoid spark. The Witch of the Wastes' features congealed in a mask of pain, and she clutched at her chest with her delicate hands. When she withdrew them, she held in her hands a beating purple flame possessing the face of a trickster.
When the witch turned to face Howl again, the teenaged wizard flinched slightly. The Witch of the Waste was no longer slender and cunningly beautiful. Her curves had become much fuller. Where once her neck had been slim and graceful, now it was replaced by a thick plump profile. Her crafty and attractive façade now shone with a sinister aura; a look of lustful hunger that spoke volumes about her motives.
"This is the Witch of the Wastes as she now appears. A direct result of her deal with the demon," Madame Suliman intoned. "She has become a wanted renegade ever since, for she steals the hearts of young men and curses young women with the blight of old age. Not too shabby considering she is almost four hundred years old. When the king's justice reaches her, however, I will strip her of her powers as punishment for all the trouble she has sown throughout the kingdom over the decades." Suliman rapped her staff a final time.
The twilit sky began to brighten until the void around them was filled with a blinding white light. The Witch of the Wastes' screams reverberated endlessly as she struggled against the crippling brightness, so brilliant and all consuming that not a shadow could exist. Her screeching form began to smoke and burn until her magically acquired youthfulness was all but burned away. When the light had subsided, Howl leaned forward in his chair to get a glimpse at the cowering heap of smoldering flesh before him.
What sat there was a hunchbacked old woman, aged and wrinkled beyond recognition. Her rumpled skin was decorated with moles and a bulbous pink nose straddled her face in between wide lifeless eyes. Howl squirmed in his chair at the transformation he had just witnessed.
Suliman watched Howl's reaction pointedly. "I tell you all this, Howl, not because I fear for your safety at her hands, but to implore you to never give in to the temptations and false promises that demons offer, in exchange for limitless power or whatever else they may offer you. You are still young and woefully inexperienced. When you are out in the world making decisions for yourself, you must remain vigilant and cautious at all times."
Howl's brow was furrowed, his eyes keen and focused on his mistress and what she had just told him. "But, the demon didn't do this her on its own. If a wizard possesses a strong enough will, then the demon will succumb to it. The Witch of the Wastes wasn't strong enough to bend the demon to her wishes, so she will end up like this if she continues to use her magic inconsequentially," Howl pointed out.
"There is not a soul in existence who is strong enough to resist the corruption of a demon indefinitely. Those who make pacts with demons all share the same eventual fate," Suliman explained darkly.
"I understand, Madame Suliman," he said as he inclined his head deeply once again in a bow of respect.
Suliman smiled, glad that her apprentice had been as receptive as he was to her warnings, and motioned for one of her blond errand boys. "Well then, if there are no further questions, then I'll be seeing you on the morrow for your signing," she reminded Howl as she was wheeled out the door.
A/N: Howl's Moving Castle are trademarks of Studio Ghibli and Hayao Miyazaki. Comments, critiques, and constructive criticism are always welcome.