kalloway @kalloway@fedibird.com

Sarrah ran her fingers over the implements in the box one last time before looking at her teacher.

"Are you sure I'm ready?" she asked. She did not feel ready. But she trusted her teacher and she'd just been given a complete vampire hunting kit. It had to be time.

"You're ready."

Sarrah blinked, surprised at the sharp-fanged smile that her teacher was giving her.

"Wait," Sarrah said, eyes suddenly wide. "I thought-"

Her teacher laughed.

"Sarrah, dear. If you want me, hunt me and catch me."

Sarrah nodded.

Oh she'd do just that!

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"Wait, why does the program require a year of math?" Simona asked as she looked over her course schedule and then the list of classes for the next few years of her life.

Her guidance counselor smiled.

"Most witches go into business for themselves, and those that don't often end up in private employment and have to keep their own inventories and accounting anyway," they explained. "Honestly, a year of math probably isn't quite enough."

Quietly, Simona nodded. It wouldn't be as exciting as Everyday Potions, but yeah, that really did add up.

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Isadora sighed and beckoned her late-night patient inside.

"What did you do this time?" she asked.

"Went a little far with a joke," Harris replied, his voice a bit more hollow than usual.

Isadora stared at Harris for a long, long moment.

"Okay, went way too far with an unfunny joke and swords came out," Harris admitted. "Mostly theirs. And you can see how that turned out."

"I'm charging my usual fee," Isadora replied flatly.

"Yeah, yeah, but joke's still on them. I've been dead for sixty years!

"Now, Isadora, dear, put my head back on?"

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The witch at the edge of the swamp sold potions and charms and curious cures. But she also sold wind-chimes made of metal and bright glass that made every breeze a melody.

"What magic do they have?" asked one young woman who'd come for a cure she was only able to mumble about. She'd been glum til she'd opened the door and a tiny gust of wind had created a sudden symphony.

The witch just cackled, because that's what seemed to be proper to do.

"The magic to make you smile," she said.

And the young woman blinked and realized...

Yes, she was!

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"May I have this dance?"

Lady Orva had retreated to the castle gardens to clear her head, and her nose, from the overwhelming everything of the ball. She'd never done well in crowds, but she kept trying...

She was not expecting to turn and see the third prince, Jovan, extending a hand.

"I... Yes, of course."

Lady Orva took his hand carefully.

"It's really bright in there tonight," Jovan said quietly.

"Loud," Lady Orva added. "Too many scents."

Jovan nodded, and then they danced, not close, not at first.

Not til everything was clear.

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Night was surprised by the volume of the place even before stepping inside. Kee usually took him to quiet, intimate pubs, but this was certainly not one of those.

They would not be talking, not over the music, nor the singing, nor the joyous cries of those already moved on to dancing.

But they did not need to talk, not when the food was good and the music after even better. Night had never danced like he found himself dancing...

He gorged himself not on the food and drink but on the music, the joy, the movement-

-and Kee, of course, too.

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