Click click click click. Click click click click. Click click click click.
Stepping through the large wooden double doors adorned with veins of liquid blueish silver light, their footsteps click and echo through the vast ceiling of the building. As soon as Kala and Punkin take several steps past the vestibule and down the hall towards the center atrium, the wooden double doors shut behind them.
Taking in deep breaths of the empty air, both Kala and Punkin feel a sense of smallness as they stand in the vast circular atrium of the building space.
Spreading out from the epicenter of the open room, several corridors hold rows of shelves and piles of books, with an occasional bowl of glass, ceramic, rock, or metal where various corridors lead to the intersection at the atrium.
Along the corridors and the sides of the atrium, several hooded cloaks hang on the walls as if all the occupants have hung up their work and are taking a break from whatever job they have. The books laying on the shelves and in the piles across the Athenaeum radiate a tempting light from their spines as if whispering and beckoning for someone to open them.
Echoing across the halls, a warm contralto female voice inquires, “Who is there? I am expecting no visitors.''
“You never do. And we are not just visitors,” shouts the grinning Kala as she looks down at Punkin and raises her eyebrows.
Suddenly, two single-horned wolves the size of large bears dash out from corridors at opposite ends of the atrium and jump around Kala and Punkin as if they knew them and have long awaited their arrival.
A short-haired woman of medium stature and height, wearing thick glasses that reflect light, calmly walks out and quickly shushes the wolves, ”Shhhh!!! Oh hush, you two. Behave! And mind your manners.”
Quickly, the wolves cower and lay on the floor, whimpering into silence and submission.
Looking Punkin up and down, the woman smiles, “It has been a long two years, my purple-haired Pupu. You may not remember me, but I have never forgotten you. I am Arwyn Saga, a friend of your mother and father.”
Smiling, Punkin grabs her hair-buns and shouts “My daddy said Purple is my mommy’s favorite color!!! It’s mine too! Do you like purple?”
“Yes, Pupu I do. It is actually my favorite color too. And you are my favorite witch, even if you did not have purple hair,” responds Arwyn, as she lightly pats Punkin’s head.
“I’m a witch! No more prentice witch! HA! Ay! Ya! PEW PEW!” screams Punkin while pretending to shoot the wolves with magic.
Looking back at Kala, Arwyn asks curiously, “How did you get past the village and remain undetected by people with her? And why have you brought her out here where she may not be so well received by the others within Haeven’s walls? I take it, Cer doesn’t know you brought her all the way out here, beyond the farm.”
Brushing off Arwyn’s concern with a wave of her hand, Kala sneers “Nobody dares disturb a swarm.”
“Ahh. Still traveling by swarm I see. It must still be effective. How intriguing that the bees have taken to you so kindly…” responds Arwyn in an inspecting tone.
“Whatever it takes to get around. And it may not avoid attention, but it does draw people away versus closer,” smiles Kala.
“Well, the others will be happy to see her again. Just keep her out of sight from those that are not our own.” Arwyn responds before turning away to look at the atrium chamber.
Clapping her hands twice, Arwyn speaks loudly and firmly into the echoing chamber, “Time to rest our eyes, my beautiful world.”
As her sentence ends, the floors and walls shake and creak as darkness encapsulates the building. The light attempting to enter the building through the skylights and windows absorb into the glass on contact.
Arwyn claps again, speaking to the air and the walls of the building itself, “Now, it’s time for a bedtime story.”
Filling up with mysterious light, the atrium and corridors emanate and glow wherever Punkin, Kala, or Arwyn look.
“'Is this magic? How did you stop the sun?..... Wait…. Are my eyes flashlights?” asks Punkin with excitement.
As she continues to look around with the excitement of filling the rooms with light appearing wherever her eyes look, Punkin looks back at Arwyn, “The dark is so scary. I wanna make it light again.”
Looking sincerely into Punkin’s eye with an unblinding light, Arwyn responds, “We are always in control of our light and our darkness, no matter the time of day. We are all born houses of light- sometimes we choose to walk in darkness. Sometimes, everything we look at, we choose to see light in.”
Gracefully drawing her attention to a pile of books at the beginning of a corridor, Arywn speaks aloud, “Please bring those books to the stone bowl next to isle 3.”
The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.
Slowly, the books begin to float and move towards the stone bowl near the entryway of the third corridor clockwise of the entrance of the atrium.
“Oooooh MAGIC again!!!! Are you a witch too?” ask Punkin.
Laughing warmly while leaning against the wall, Kala chimes in, “There is a lot to learn, Pupu. Time to listen for your lesson, so you can learn to be better than we ever were.”
Ignoring Kala’s remark, Arwyn responds, “No, I am not a witch. Not everyone that does magic is a witch, and not all witches are good at this kind of magic. I also have help from my friends.”
Looking around confused, Punkin searches and without resolve, asks “What friends? The big dogs are sleeping.”
Grinning, Arwyn raises both her arms in an invitation to the air and space around them, “Cloaks, please.”
Suddenly, the cloaks lift off the walls of the corridor and atrium, hovering in place, each floating at the intersections of the atrium and along the corridor shelves.
“Oooooh, Magic friends! I thought you were all alone. I want to make friends too.” gasps Punkin.
“I may sometimes seem alone, but I am not lonely.” Arwyn responds
“Even if you can’t see your pretend friends, you are not lonely? asks Punkin
“You see, we are never really alone…” Arwyn responds as she gazes off into the distance.
“...As long as we care for others, they will also care for us.” Arwyn continues as she draws attention back to Punkin.
Looking around perplexed, Punkin grows restlessly impatient as Arywn methodically pulls the light radiating from the spines of various books and drops them into two bowls, one ceramic and one crystal glass.
While watching Arwyn’s hyper-focused facial expressions, Punkin notices the lights emanating from the bowls beginning to pulse and rise like brilliant smoke-streams of light above the bowls. As the smoke and lights dance above the bowls, words appear and quickly transform into images filling the atrium air.
“The craft of witches goes back many generations- as old as love, fear, joy, and life itself. Witchcraft is neither good or bad. The world will tell you that witches are bad, but the true history paints a different story. A story of fear and misunderstanding; of desire and exploitation; of connection and dissonance.”
As the smoke and light continue to project images, memories, and scenes of pain, joy, hunger, war, and laughter into the empty space of the atrium, Arwyn continues to narrate the history of witches.
“Long ago, the world was not much different from it is now. The world was in pain. There were people who lived in excess and kept resources for themselves; and there were the common people who worked for those with wealth and resources- these people had very little. Among the common people, were very special people- people who wanted to heal the pain of the world.
Now these special people had many names: shamans, kahunas, healers, doctors, Wu, mu phu thuy, mangkukulam, and many others. Some had familiars, those witches were known as tsukimono-suji, and some others were in tune with nature and the trees such as wiccans or practitioners of wica. No matter the name or source of their power, they held a special relationship with nature, the living, the dead, and energy itself. They were vessels of magic. Over time they evolved and grew stronger, like Kala, your mother, and your father.”
“What? DADDY KNOWS MAGIC?. SO… HE CAN SEE??” Screams Punkin with excitement and tones of accusation in her voice.
Interrupting Punkin’s excitement, Arwyn tries to explain the nuances of Cer’s title, “Now wait a minute Pupu, your father is not a normal witch… umm, neither was your mother. Well, come to think of it, there are no normal witches left.”
“Ahem…. There are extraordinary witches” touts Kala as she polishes her nails on her leather jacket.
“HA, yeah! Extra, meaning ‘more’, and ordinary, meaning ‘normal’ or “plain”. So…more plain, just like you. You are the only normal or plain witch left!” chides Arwyn, jokingly.
Smiling, Arwyn continues with the history lesson while satisfying Punkin’s curiosity,
“We will discuss your father and mother AFTER I explain the history of witches and magic. So hush children and listen…”
“…Now throughout time, there have been the enlightened magic users that were benevolent and charitable, doing what they can to ease pain. There have also been those that were in pain and wanted others to feel their pain. They were the eclipsed magic users that operated in deficit and longing for power, selling their souls or hurting those they could for their own benefit. They are not to blame, for we are all born with a light, and through life, sometimes the light grows dim and the darkness engulfs them in pain. Hurt people, will hurt people. Dwelling in darkness, they pull you into their darkness.”
“So is mommy and daddy Benny Love Aunt? Or they the deficate witches who had long power?” interrupts Punkin with a very curious eagerness to know more about her parents.
Upon hearing Punkin interrupt Arwyn again, Kala, who is now sitting at the end of a corridor, chuckles knowing how much Arwyn despises being interrupted.
Ignoring Kala’s snickers, Arwyn gently responds, “Yes, your parents were indeed benevolent, and neither one of them felt they had a feeling of deficit or longed for power. They were bestowed power, even when they did not want it.”
“What? Daddy and mommy have beast mode power?” screams Punkin with amazement.
“Wait, what? Beast what? What are you talking about?” chokes Arwyn as she stumbles with confoundment.
Laughing, Kala interjects, “She is three Arwyn, don’t use big words with her. She doesn’t know what bestowed is.”
Having an embarrassing epiphany regarding Kala’s truth telling, Arwyn chuckles warmly and clarifies, “You parents were gifted powers even when they didn’t want it. And your mother is not a beast. Your father may actually be a beast…. or part beast…. or monster…”
“MY DADDY ISN’T A MONSTER!” yells Punkin as she jumps from her seat and stomps her foot. As soon as Punkin’s foot makes contact with the ground, the ground shakes and a large gust of wind roars in every direction emanating from where Punkin stands, knocking books off the shelves down each of the corridors branching out of the atrium.
Bending down to look Punkin dead in her eyes, Arwyn gently calms Punkin,
“My purple Pupu, your father is different. Your father may be born human, but your father was raised a beast. Only your father can decide if your father is a monster or a man. What we do know is your father is very unique and yet very normal at the same time. Your father also loves you very much and would probably not want you getting upset and yelling. The last time you did that 2 years ago, Haeven was nearly destroyed. So let’s breathe big together and listen to how your parents use magic, okay?”
Nodding in embarrassment, Punkin sits back down and asks “I almost broke Haeven?”
With sadness filling Arwyn’s eyes, she responds as her attention drifts to acknowledge the floating cloaks surrounding the Athenaeum,
“Haeven was almost destroyed… did you almost do it, not quite… your actions cascaded into a ripple of events. Your aura and energy attracted essences seeking power, including many demons, sometimes known as conquys. All of our actions have consequences and can lead to other reactions…So did you almost destroy Haeven? No. Did the things you did lead to it? Yes. Pupu, the important thing to remember is that Haeven was saved. Though we were able to fend off the demons and the bad essences, we ultimately had to hide any trace of Haeven’s presence so nobody would find us…at a great cost. We lost many loved ones during those days. We are happy we saved so many lives, and very sad we lost some people near and dear to us. ”
“Is that where my mommy went? To chase away incenses and demons?” Punkin asks with pride in her voice.
“Yes, that is when your mommy chased away demons and the unnamed ill-intended essences. To save us all, including your father and you, she chased them all the way back into the darkness, alone.” Arwyn responds, while turning to hide a tear escaping down her cheek.
While catching her own tears into a tear vial, Kala straightens up from where she stands at the edge of her corridor and interrupts Arwyn, “I think that is enough history for now. We need to get food in our system before we actually learn about magic. We can finish the lesson later. Pupu, eat whatever our friends bring to you, I need to talk to Arwyn for a little bit.”
“What? I don’t wanna stahp. I’m not hungry! I wanna to talk about mommy!” pouts Punkin.
“Punkin Metta Boon. If you want to learn magic and play later, you will eat your food and rest like a good little witch.” Kala says while looking Punkin sternly in the eyes.
Immediately freezing in shock at hearing her full name, Punkin slowly responds in an embarrassed voice “Okay baba….I’m sorry. I’m sad.”
“It’s okay Pupu, we all get upset. If you want to learn more and play later, you need to go eat.” Kala responds as she picks up and hugs Punkin.
Clapping twice Arwyn announces, “Please, get her sweet honey bread and rose water.”
At her command, the cloaks begin moving about, clearing up the fallen books and setting up a picnic in the atrium for Punkin to eat.
“Cazem. Ordair. Keep her company!” commands Arwyn. At her command, the two horned wolves jump from where they laid and run to Punkin and curl around her, forming a large ring of fur.
With earnest fear, Kala whispers to Arwyn as she nods towards the front door, “We need to go and see if anyone felt the disruption. We need to check the gate… We need to make sure we are safe.”
“We need to see if we woke the Troll and Tree! If we did, we may all be in danger…” Arwyn adds, as she briskly walks down the hall towards the wooden double doors of the Akashic Atheneum. With Kala trailing closely behind Arywn, they disappear into the darkness of the hallway and the vestibule.
Clickety clack. Clickety clack.