She climbed the house using a spiral staircase, ascending to a porch where the dwelling was, and in the branches, small rooms were connected by firm bridges. From the roof of the house protruded the hollow trunk, where the smoke from the chimney emerged. It always bloomed with cherries, shedding a gentle rain as new petals were born, and made of wood so thick and hard that it rivaled concrete. The place was not a natural construction; Priscila hired licensed druids, architects, and builders to create her home.
—I find nature relaxing; I can be a bit of a hermit. Perhaps in some past life, I was a druid...— Priscila joked in a soft voice, —of course... today I am far from being part of any of those hedonistic cults addicted to consuming herbal products.
Fields of tulips adorned the surroundings of the house, where two cats played, and upon noticing the presence of the hat-wearing lady, they pounced on her, clinging to her metallic legs in affectionate purring. Priscila picked them both up, treating them like newborn babies. She called them “Pelusa” and “Blanquito” one black and white with spots of the opposite color.
—I missed you too, little ones. Mommy is finally home. —She pressed her cheeks against the faces of the affectionate little cats, responding to their affectionate gestures and the tender purring of Priscila. —As always... you managed without me for a whole month; you're excellent hunters.
—Wasn't there anyone to take care of them? —Maria looked around, searching for any other humans or similar beings nearby. Nothing, just wilderness and pine forest as tall as the treehouse dominated the land.
—Before I leave on my trips... I let them roam in the field, and whenever I come back, they appear in the garden. —She didn't let go of the cats, their resilient temperament helping them survive alone and spoiled in the presence of the owner they were raised by. —We can say we have a special connection. They are part of the family, and so will you be. You'll help me take care of them... especially giving them baths, as they don't exactly smell good. Isn't that right, my loves?
She blew kisses reciprocated by affectionate meows. Maria covered her nose due to the unpleasant odor emanating from the dirty-furred animals, and the surprises didn't end in that encounter.
The home exhibited a hybrid home architecture and a mystical touch, with prominent roots on white walls and a wooden floor. A circular table formed from the tree's extensions was accompanied by chairs in the spacious foyer divided into the kitchen, living room, and a staircase leading to the upper floors. Inside the home, stuffed animals adorned the walls, divided into two sections: monster heads attached to the wall, dissected, and their organs used for experimentation. Priscila's former pets.
She coped with parting from her pets by preserving them. Maria saw seven cats of different colors arranged on shelves, all with collars bearing names. This image didn't frighten the other two cats accompanying the woman.
Maria took some time to get used to that environment; she lost sleep hearing cat fights on the roof or the mating sounds that attracted stray cats that somehow found their way to the property, possibly pets from nearby farming communities. What made her hair stand on end was discovering a preserved mare in the cellar. Her name was Gertrudis, died from a snake bite, and her skin was turned into a belt that Priscila occasionally wore.
In the study room, the number of books compared to the sacks of cat food and supplies stored in the warehouse, where the preserved horse resided. The smell of old books couldn't overcome the scent of cat litter, and the fridge often contained more bottles of milk than water.
What seemed like a dream palace, compared to the old residence where she spent some years, was surrounded by unpleasant fragrances for Maria, a girl raised in the cleanliness and order of a humble yet welcoming home.
—If you were allergic to cats... you would have had to find another teacher, — Priscila joked, waving her hand amid laughter, while sitting in the dining room with Blanquito lying on her legs and Pelusa resting on the hat placed on the table, squashing it.
—It's too much...— Maria's hand trembled as she stood in front of the fridge, staring at the rows of milk bottles occupying almost all the shelves.
This lifestyle caused a certain nervous tick in the purple-eyed girl; she developed obsessive-compulsive tendencies, cleaning and maintaining order constantly, all to endure the presence of the cats. Priscila found Maria mopping the floor and changing the litter boxes, using a cloth on her nose to bear the smell.
—Bringing you here was indeed my best investment. —Priscila left the room, leaving Maria pulling cat hairs stuck to the curtains.
Priscila found that obsessive-compulsive disorder quite handy; she didn't have to spend energy on cleaning. Spilling some milk on the table, and Maria would start mopping the kitchen using her own hands; she had trained herself to use magic as the sole means of effort for everything.
It seemed that Priscila took the stereotype of witches and spinsters over forty too far. Like any woman who successfully assimilated the mutagen, she looked thirty, a facade concealing her true age due to the longevity resulting from mutations. Maria didn't dare to ask about the latter, but she did try to find out why she wore the hat.
—I like to mock those norms... as long as it's within legal loopholes. —Priscila answered, sitting on the couch during tea hours, with Blanquito lying on her thighs. —I've built a great reputation. I taught at Idonea University and held a high rank among the guardians, specializing in research. I plan to retire from the guardians soon and work as a full-time teacher... all while wearing a hat considered taboo. I'm not at odds with our roots, Maria... now be a good girl and pass me some cookies.
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She assigned Maria to heal wounds on injured animals in veterinary clinics and soon switched to helping in hospitals, reducing damage in fractures. Maria was not only learning to heal using magic but also receiving training in first aid with her own hands. They aimed to turn her into a medical unit.
Priscila believed that holy magic, the art of healing, was the basic skill every mage should master. She discovered her apprentice late at night in the library, devouring book after book. Not limiting herself to magic, Maria read about mathematics, history, languages, astrology, bestiaries, medicine, and the culture of other races.
Priscila had to secure certain grimoires that could be dangerous for a novice. Apart from that, she prepared coffee and dedicated herself to reading alongside Maria.
—You're starting to grow on me, girl. —Priscila sat next to Maria, joining her in the study.
—Hey, Priscila! What does this mean? —Maria pressed her finger on a section of a book describing a mollusk with a bulbous shell, moved by tentacles—.The text is a bit heavy; I'm struggling to make sense of it.
—They're called imps. —Priscila showed a slight repulsion for such an aberration, and as she explained, a dark tone pervaded each word. —They are parasites that take possession of people, driving them to commit atrocities. That's why some guardians are paid to exorcise them.
—Will I have to fight them someday?
—Could be. —Priscila blinked over the stack of books Maria had accumulated. She didn't know what had a greater impact on her: discovering everything Maria intended to read or the volumes she had recently finished and still eagerly planned to delve into another sea of written knowledge.
—If I want to be a guardian... I must study a lot. —In an unusual enthusiasm for a girl on academic topics, her eyes lit up at the thought of all the reading she had yet to do.
—I'll prepare some coffee and pastries; it will take us a good while.—Rising from her chair, she walked to the kitchen, casting a sidelong glance at the student immersed in books.
—Yes, please!
Both of them loved reading, immersing themselves in information, enjoying fruit tea accompanied by pastries.
Priscila was intrigued by how Maria was becoming a creature of habits. At noon, she always marked tea time, no matter the situation. She brought out the teapot and served the cups.
When drinking coffee, she added two sugar cubes, half a tablespoon of cream, and mixed them for thirty seconds. She would wake up at dawn, climb the stairs two by two, and read until well past midnight every other day. This obsessive attitude was focused on studying, aiming to improve and turn her into a great guardian.
The home study under the guidance of the veteran helped Maria finish basic school before turning fifteen, the age at which every young person aimed to choose a profession.
—You're overexerting yourself again, silly girl. —Priscila discovered Maria with her cheek pressed against the wide-open book, wrapped in the cloak of sleep, a thread of saliva trickling from her mouth in a comical grimace, reflecting a childish playfulness amidst snores with incomprehensible words.
With her hand on her chest, she caressed the girl's hair, whom she had taken in just over a month ago. There was no need to show any demand when Maria was already burdening herself.
She thought of taking her and carrying her to the minimally decorated bedroom where she had been staying but quickly dismissed the idea, fearing an early awakening. So, she brought a blanket from the white closet and covered her shoulders to keep her from getting cold. She left the room to resume the solace of the dream world, hopeful for a better tomorrow for both of them.
—You were my best investment, little rascal... indeed, you are.
Priscila didn't resemble much what Maria knew as a guardian: stoic monster hunters, nomads in civilized territories, killing horrors that couldn't be stopped by barons, engaged in wars with other factions both internal and external.
The veteran's specialty wasn't hunting monstrosities; she took on different jobs. She worked as a magical detective, investigating cases of magic misuse by criminal groups in Trisary and Santus, solving homicides, kidnappings, and robberies related to witchcraft. She hunted a different kind of monster.
During the time Maria lived with her, Priscila reduced her activities to dedicate time to train her disciple. She received payment from the government for preparing a new guardian.
Priscila constantly gave a new piece of advice in each of her classes. Maria didn't speak much during that time; she barely uttered a few words and forced herself to open up under the veteran's insistence.
—Tell me, Maria... What are the stigma users called?
—Esper, wizards, witches, and carriers.
—Perfect...— She threw a chocolate that Maria caught with difficulty; both took a stroll in the garden of the house. —Tell me... a few differences in those mutations.
—Espers are an artificial altered or someone who masters a few equations not exclusive to graduates. They can't freely practice magic in the world unless it's in a military job.— Maria made efforts to organize her thoughts. —A wizard masters a wide list of equations and can work in the industry. A carrier is someone who merges with a stigma entity. These three have in common that they must be registered with the government, or else they'll be hunted.
—Exactly...— She gave her another chocolate. —Otherwise, they'd be illegal and subject to a death sentence. Although I must say... many of the Archive laws are unnecessarily strict. I'll give you some advice for when you have your license.
—I'm all ears...— Her eyes lit up.
—Whenever you learn a new equation, make sure it's in the available catalog. — She narrated in a list format. —Don't risk creating new equations when you're too young. Experimenting with algorithms is quite dangerous for a novice; it can lead to spontaneous combustion. Lastly, if you ever create a new equation... preferably keep it to yourself and don't patent it to the archive.
—Why? —Maria didn't understand the nature of this advice —. Why not?
—Look, they're sneaky vermin. You can publish an article or invention; they support you by taking a certain percentage of royalties if they like your patent .— Priscila's speech showed experience—. An equation... that's different; the royalty payment for publishing it is much lower. They can take away your patent if you're not careful, and they could even ban it if they see something strange, or suddenly you mess with them, and they want to ruin your reputation.
—What do you mean by strange?
—Danger when using it, necromancy, exaggerated geas, among other things... curiously, blood sacrifices are legal, only for those of us in the military world.— Priscila was quick, with no desire to delve into it—. Once you graduate, be very careful about what you lean towards... three times breaking their rules... it could cost you.
Priscila removed the garments from her torso, revealing the enormous tattoo that covered the entire back of the dragon-phoenix hybrid; the wizard's license on her back, but it didn't appear in the usual black ink. Slight signs of burns corroded the drawing; in the dragon and griffin's eyes, fleshy inflammations in shades of red already appeared.
—By the Titans... —She uttered in a hushed voice.
—Three times to break the Archive rules; I have two slip-ups left. —Priscila tilted her head while holding the garments covering her chest—. On the third, the wizard's mark turns into the witch's, and there's no turning back. Always check each equation, and never fall into temptation. No matter how stupid the rule is, don't do it... unless you find loopholes in their norms.