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Authors: Claribel Ortega
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Margo. The young witch furrowed her eyebrows as a devious smile spread across The Priestess’s face and suddenly she was gone.
“NOOO,” shrieked Margo, it had been but a vision of The Priestess. The true Priestess appeared before her, wand raised and ready to strike, but before she could react a stream of icicles blasted The Priestess from behind, sending her through the air. Margo turned around, her body aching in pain as she watched The Priestess go flying overhead and into the woods. Margo had almost forgotten she’d conjured an icewraith. The other Margo, her skin like snow, and her eyelashes frosted over turned to her and smiled, before melting into a pool of water on the muddy ground.
Margo had defeated The Priestess.
She ran over to her teacher, all the fear of the past lesson gone, and instead a panic for The Priestess’s well-being taking over.
“Priestess, are you hurt?” she asked worry lacing her voice. Margo noticed all the pain she’d felt only a moment before was all but gone.
“Yes,” coughed The Priestess, standing from the thicket she’d fallen into.
“I hope that you understand now,” she said calmly, as if they hadn’t almost murdered one another.
“I think I do,” said Margo.
“It does not matter what my gift is,” she said slowly, forming her response as she spoke.
“What matters is that you are gifted,” The Priestess finished for her and gave her a small smile, signaling for her to come along. As the two witches walked through the forest, Margo knew for the first time in her life that she truly was.
Chapter 9
New York, NY
October 5, 1984
Emerald had that feeling in her stomach. The one she got whenever she was about to get in trouble. The one she imagined normal kids got whenever they were sent to the principal’s office for the first time. Except she had already been to her own principal’s office, that part she could handle. What made her so nervous was the thought of her aunt being disappointed in her for what seemed like the billionth time in her life. She needed time to prepare herself, to think of how she was going to explain what had happened at school that morning. Most importantly, she needed to let Nora cool down, because she might very well kill Emerald this time. The young witch left the library and took the number six train and made her way towards St. Mark’s. Emerald climbed onto the graffiti-covered train car and searched for a seat. Not during rush hour , she thought to herself, fat chance . She spotted a seat and shot towards it before someone else did. Emerald squeezed in between a tall man reading a newspaper and a woman who had about seven bags full of what looked like celery. Emerald was just settling in for the ride when she noticed the woman sitting across from her. She was eating some sort of powdered cake. She stared down at the cake as if it had just insulted her and took one big bite, and then another, before it was completely gone. The woman kept her head down, not bothering to make sure no one was looking before she licked the powder and frosting from her plump fingers. She had white dust all over her black pea coat, and as she inspected herself Emerald was afraid to find out what she’d do next. She slipped her headphones off and attempted to look past the woman and out the dark subway windows instead. She was always hoping she’d see a jumbo rat. She’d seen them before, of course, but she’d heard legends of dog-sized rats, and she was okay with seeing them from the safety of the subway car. Witch or not, Emerald knew if she ever saw a rat that big scurrying across her room, she’d freak out. A few stops later Emerald popped up from her seat, slipping her headphones back on and shuffling out of the crowded train car. The cake lady was still staring down at her dress, trying to find crumbs. Emerald shook her head and smirked: just a typical subway ride in the Big Apple.
As she emerged from the subway, a fresh breeze rustled
“NOOO,” shrieked Margo, it had been but a vision of The Priestess. The true Priestess appeared before her, wand raised and ready to strike, but before she could react a stream of icicles blasted The Priestess from behind, sending her through the air. Margo turned around, her body aching in pain as she watched The Priestess go flying overhead and into the woods. Margo had almost forgotten she’d conjured an icewraith. The other Margo, her skin like snow, and her eyelashes frosted over turned to her and smiled, before melting into a pool of water on the muddy ground.
Margo had defeated The Priestess.
She ran over to her teacher, all the fear of the past lesson gone, and instead a panic for The Priestess’s well-being taking over.
“Priestess, are you hurt?” she asked worry lacing her voice. Margo noticed all the pain she’d felt only a moment before was all but gone.
“Yes,” coughed The Priestess, standing from the thicket she’d fallen into.
“I hope that you understand now,” she said calmly, as if they hadn’t almost murdered one another.
“I think I do,” said Margo.
“It does not matter what my gift is,” she said slowly, forming her response as she spoke.
“What matters is that you are gifted,” The Priestess finished for her and gave her a small smile, signaling for her to come along. As the two witches walked through the forest, Margo knew for the first time in her life that she truly was.
Chapter 9
New York, NY
October 5, 1984
Emerald had that feeling in her stomach. The one she got whenever she was about to get in trouble. The one she imagined normal kids got whenever they were sent to the principal’s office for the first time. Except she had already been to her own principal’s office, that part she could handle. What made her so nervous was the thought of her aunt being disappointed in her for what seemed like the billionth time in her life. She needed time to prepare herself, to think of how she was going to explain what had happened at school that morning. Most importantly, she needed to let Nora cool down, because she might very well kill Emerald this time. The young witch left the library and took the number six train and made her way towards St. Mark’s. Emerald climbed onto the graffiti-covered train car and searched for a seat. Not during rush hour , she thought to herself, fat chance . She spotted a seat and shot towards it before someone else did. Emerald squeezed in between a tall man reading a newspaper and a woman who had about seven bags full of what looked like celery. Emerald was just settling in for the ride when she noticed the woman sitting across from her. She was eating some sort of powdered cake. She stared down at the cake as if it had just insulted her and took one big bite, and then another, before it was completely gone. The woman kept her head down, not bothering to make sure no one was looking before she licked the powder and frosting from her plump fingers. She had white dust all over her black pea coat, and as she inspected herself Emerald was afraid to find out what she’d do next. She slipped her headphones off and attempted to look past the woman and out the dark subway windows instead. She was always hoping she’d see a jumbo rat. She’d seen them before, of course, but she’d heard legends of dog-sized rats, and she was okay with seeing them from the safety of the subway car. Witch or not, Emerald knew if she ever saw a rat that big scurrying across her room, she’d freak out. A few stops later Emerald popped up from her seat, slipping her headphones back on and shuffling out of the crowded train car. The cake lady was still staring down at her dress, trying to find crumbs. Emerald shook her head and smirked: just a typical subway ride in the Big Apple.
As she emerged from the subway, a fresh breeze rustled
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