“Maisha, have you seen my harp?” Morg asked, trying her best to hide her nervousness, “I was going to take it out to clean it today, but it’s not where I thought it was. Did you do something with it?”
Maisha looked up from the concoction in her cauldron.
“What would I want with your harp? I haven’t seen it lately.”
“Oh, alright,” Morg replied, stifling a sigh of relief. She had suspected that Xisa had told the elder witches of her late night escapades, thus causing Maisha to confiscate her beloved instrument, but Maisha’s response seemed to indicate otherwise. Morg shot Maisha her most innocent smile and said with a chipper tone, “I’ll ask Song Laoshi, then!”
Maisha eyed Morg quizzically as the young girl traipsed her way outside to find Songbai.
If Morg’s harp is missing, she thought as she stirred the contents of her cauldron, then either she’s misplaced it or someone else has stolen it. But if Morg misplaced it, why had she taken it out in the first place? And in the other case, why would anyone want to steal it?
Then again, Maisha didn’t know a lot about harp care- maybe they needed to be cleaned and kept up more frequently and diligently than she thought. Maisha turned back to her potion, her mind still mulling over various possibilities.
Outside, Morg began hunting around for Songbai. When she didn’t immediately find her mentor in the garden, she began walking along the paths and trails of the chilly woods.
“Ah! Song Laoshi, have you seen my harp?” Morg asked when she found Songbai and Baigu foraging for mushrooms a little ways up the trail.
“Harp? What harp?” Songbai asked, not looking up from the patch of bright yellow chanterelles sprouted around her feet. Baigu, on the other hand, immediately bounded up to the child, looking for ear scratches. When Morg did not immediately give her attention, the wooly wolf instead opted to lick Morg’s chilly fingers, covering them with warm slobber.
“My harp. You know, the harp that I usually keep by my bed?”
Songbai paused, racking her brains trying to remember.
“OH, that harp,” she finally exclaimed, “Honestly I had forgotten that you had one… no I haven’t seen it.”
“…Of course I have a harp,” Morg muttered, feeling a little hurt but unsure why. Hearing the melancholia in Morg’s voice, Songbai finally looked up at the girl. The young witch had already turned back towards the direction of the house, her head hanging somewhat dejectedly.
“Ah… ” Songbai sighed, suddenly feeling guilty for having forgotten Morg’s most adored hobby. She talked about it frequently enough.
“Have you studied that book Maisha got you yet? Mana in Music or something like that?”
With a sigh, Morg turned back towards Songbai and shook her head.
“Tell you what,” Songbai continued, “why don’t we cut back on your transformation magic lessons just a touch and start studying that book together?”
Morg’s eyes lit up at the proposition. With a smile, Songbai patted Morg firmly on the shoulder. “Here, help me carry these,” she said, unloading a basket of assorted mushrooms into Morg’s arms and picking up a second basket herself, “and I’ll help you look for your missing harp when we get back.”
“O-Okay!” Morg said, enthusiastically. The two witches made their way back along the winding forest trails.
*
Xisa had hidden Morg’s harp. Of course she had hidden Morg’s harp. She knew it was probably wrong of her to hide it, but she hated the thing and hated to think of Morg playing it. She thought back to the night she had followed Morg outside and listened to her music.
Over the weeks, Xisa had begun to doubt herself when it came to that scarecrow. Perhaps the wind had knocked it around, or Morg had bumped it by accident…it was dark and… maybe her eyes had deceived her. No real evidence suggested it was actually alive. And even if it HAD come to life, why did Xisa assume it was the harp’s doing? It could have been plenty of other things!
Even so, just thinking of the eerie melodies of that night sent a shiver up Xisa’s spine. And Xisa wasn’t an idiot- her friend was a witch, and one who had difficulties controlling her abilities. Even if it sounded like a crazy thing to be concerned about, something like bringing a scarecrow to life was actually a reasonable concern! Xisa let out a troubled sigh just thinking about it.
If only Morg would stop going out in the dark! But of course she wouldn’t do that. No matter how Xisa tried preventing Morg from leaving, whether by guarding the escape-window or desperately gesturing about the perceived danger, Morg continued sneaking out after sunset to play. And while Xisa didn’t want to betray Morg’s trust and get her friend in trouble with the elder witches, she simply couldn’t stay up every night keeping vigil- hiding the cursed object was her only choice!
Even so, Xisa felt guilty. So when Morg and Songbai returned to the hut, baskets of mushrooms in their arms, Xisa slipped out the side window and scampered up a pine tree to hide herself amongst the needles and branches.
“Maybe Xisa knows where it is,” Morg said, looking up at Songbai. “Song Laoshi, can you help me ask her?”
Xisa didn’t catch the meaning of the whole sentence. Having only recognized ‘Xisa’ and ‘where,’ her guilty heart immediately grew concerned that her friend suspected her. Songbai looked at the golden-haired child at her side and responded encouragingly.
“Why don’t you ask her yourself? It takes practice to learn a language!”
“Uggghhh Song Laoshi, can’t I just wait until I’ve mastered the Book of Erudite to learn? Then I’d have learned it all by now like Maisha!”
“Silly girl, I’ve already told you; the Book of Erudite takes years to learn, and you might even have to get instructions from multiple teachers just to grasp the basics. Not every witch speaks English- you’ll have to learn more than just Chinese before you can master the Book of Erudite!”
Morg grumbled something under her breath before grumpily piping up again.
“Well you’ll have to teach me what to say, the only two sentences I know are ‘What is your name?’ and ‘Hello, I don’t speak Chinese.’”
“Ha! Well, I think you know more than you think you do. But alright, let’s go practice.”
Xisa let out a breath when the two disappeared inside the hut. The young girl rubbed her backside, sore from sitting on a branch for so long. Should she continue hiding here? Or should she move further away from the hut and risk getting caught?
Ugh. Xisa sighed internally, should I just lie? She’d believe me, right?
But something about lying to Morg didn’t sit well with Xisa. Just as the young girl decided to clamber down the tree and find a better hiding spot, Morg burst out the cabin.
“Xisa? XIIIIISSSSAAAA?” she called, swiveling her head around in search of her friend.
Xisa froze, her leg already hanging off the branch, ready to help her descend. Though it was a strenuous position to hold, she didn’t dare move a muscle. Although the branches and thick pine needles shielded her from immediate view, anyone looking hard enough could easily spot her. Morg circled all the way around the house before stopping back at the front door.
“Well how am I supposed to practice when I can’t even find her?” Morg asked as she reentered the house. Maisha’s voice floated out from inside.
“She wasn’t in the bedroom?”
“No, that’s the first place I looked- I thought she would be reading her book…”
The voices tapered off, leaving Xisa in silence as Morg closed the door to the house. Mere seconds later, the door swung open again.
“Well I’m gonna go look for her anyways!” Morg said as she wrestled her coat on.
“Just come back before sundown! I’m sure Xisa will be back by then as well.”
And with that, Morg shut the door and meandered off into the woods.
After several more minutes went by, Xisa slowly slid her way back down the tree, careful not to make a sound. With her feet firmly planted on the ground, she scampered off in the opposite direction as Morg.
*
With the excuse of being tired and wanting to rest for a while, Maisha left Songbai alone in the kitchen and made her way towards her room. She tucked her key back beneath her shirt as she closed the stone door hidden in the fireplace and walked down a spiraling staircase. The stairs ended at a simple pine door hanging crooked on its hinges. With her head bowed in thought, Maisha pushed open the flimsy piece of wood.
With a snap of her fingers, the candles and lanterns scattered around the room burst to life. Their little flames lit the space up with a warm glow. Maisha crossed to a small round table and stool packed neatly against the wall in the back corner. She slid off the lavender cloth covering the table, revealing a translucent crystal orb. There were no windows here- and thus no mischievous sun beams to bounce off the crystal (if hit at the right angle with sunlight, such a large crystal could start fires, you know!), but Maisha couldn’t drop the habit of covering the sparkling orb whenever she wasn’t using it.
Taking a seat at the table, Maisha stared intently into the crystal ball. To anyone else, the ball would appear blank still- a mere spherical crystal. But to Maisha, an image materialized.
Maisha watched the black-haired child dive into a bush, even as her friend called out her name over and over again from somewhere nearby. Maisha could hear the child’s faint cries like a soft breath of wind.
“Xissaaa…! Xiiiiissssaaaa!”
Maisha breathed a single word and the image shifted. The elder witch watched Xisa as the young girl pulled a harp out of a hollow in the base of a towering cedar tree, a conflicted expression contorting her face. She then smashed the instrument against the ground before burying the broken pieces of wood and string back in the hollow.
Maisha closed her eyes and began tracing the lines in the splintery wood of the table with her forefinger. Both the past and the future were fickle creatures- seeing through space was one thing, but seeing through time was an entirely separate beast. What she saw just now was a mere possibility, not an absolute occurrence. Though looking into the future only this far significantly increased the accuracy of the prediction. Had she tried to see several years into the future, on the other hand, she likely would have needed more than just a crystal ball to get any reasonable predictions. And even then, such divinations would likely be much more vague.
But Maisha wasn’t looking for absolute futures. She was using a tool to confirm a suspicion. And while there were always sneaky possibilities and unforeseeable futures, her vision just now had given Maisha confidence in one thing; Xisa had stolen Morg’s harp. But why? The elder witch ran through a list of possibilities in her head.
Jealousy? Could it be that Xisa feels upset that Morg has so many nice things when she has so little?
“Hmm,” Maisha hummed aloud.
But why the harp? Wouldn’t it be better to steal one of Morg’s dresses? Or a toy? This doesn’t make sense. How would something tucked under Morg’s bed all the time even catch her attention? Maisha strummed her fingers against the table. Could it be that Morg has been taking it out of its case often? Perhaps to clean it? Or perhaps… to play it?
Exhaling a long breath, Maisha rubbed the space between her brows. Surely she would have heard if Morg had played it. But a sense of uncertainty gnawed at Maisha’s mind, making her unable to drop the idea. Even instances as seemingly insignificant as this should be properly investigated. Nothing should be ruled out without certainty. Not if she wanted precise control of her future.
Maisha chewed on her lower lip, wishing her crystal ball allowed her to look through time with better accuracy. She could use more mana on the crystal. But that would exhaust her after one go- she was stretched too thin as it was. And while the accuracy would be improved, it still wouldn’t give her all the information she wanted. Her gaze shifted to the desk pushed up against the wall in the opposite corner of the room.
Soon I won’t need to rely on such fickle readings. I just need to keep working…
Maisha draped the tablecloth once again over the crystal and meandered over to the desk. Scattered across it were various flasks and potions, pencils, papers and random knick-knacks. And in the midst of the clutter on her desk, sat a flat silver stone. Maisha cleared off a section of her desk. With her brow furrowed in thought, she took out a notebook from one of the drawers and began reading through the pages, sometimes pausing to scribble in a note here and there.
Numbers and letters and three-line long formulas, whole paragraphs of text and random notes underlined three or four times- each page was crammed with enough symbols to make anyone’s head swim with fatigue at just a single glance. But Maisha narrowed her eyes and adjusted the round glasses on her nose as she flipped through the pages, scanning her densely packed notes. She had been working on a code- a code that would let her see the future with more accuracy than any witch had ever had. But she was missing something.
After a while of studying old notes and jotting down new ones, occasionally pulling out a book from the shelf above her desk to flip through, Maisha set down her pen and sunk down to rest her head in her hands.
Something’s off with the girls, she thought, unable to pull her mind away from the troublesome children. But I don’t have enough mana to figure out exactly what. It's lucky I already slipped that tarot card on Xiaoha’s familiar, but… how effective will it be stuck to a mere frog?
The four of pentacles was a card representing stability and support, especially as it pertained to material wealth, advising prudent usage of available resources. And with Maisha’s layers of magic forged into it, rather than merely giving insight into the future, the card also helped guide the future. Looking at the girls’ abundance of mana as a sort of wealth or resource, Maisha had hoped the card would aid in stabilizing the chaotic mess of mana in the both of them.
But some things were… inconvenient to explain. Naturally the girls would know immediately if she stuck a couple of cards on them. Morg would no doubt tell Songbai and Maisha would have no choice but to show yet another of the cards in her hand… so to speak.
It wasn’t that she didn’t trust Songbai- quite the contrary. Aside from Henry, she probably trusted the woman more than anyone else. But one couldn’t be too careful. Even Henry didn’t know all her secrets.
Thus she found it most convenient to stick the card on that docile little frog always sticking to Xisa’s side. Maybe Xisa would see more of the effects, but Morg liked to pester Xisa enough that it should work fine for the both of them. Besides, if Maisha was correct about the connection between the girls, sticking something on Xisa would help Morg just as much.
Maisha drew her attention back down to the flat stone before her, tapping the matte silver slab with one of her fingers.
If I stopped working on this, I’d have more mana. Then maybe I’d be able to figure out what exactly is going on. But if I stop working… Maisha took off her glasses and rubbed her tired eyes. It wouldn’t be a long term solution if I stopped working, she thought for the thousandth time, I’d have more mana, I’d get more accurate readings, but it wouldn’t be enough. I just need to work a little longer. With it, mana won’t be an issue anymore. I know I’m close, I’m so close… I’m just missing something…
*
The sun had set and Xisa was growing cold and hungry. With a sigh, she started her journey back to the house. Knowing Morg had likely returned by now and would interrogate her as soon as she stepped foot in the door, Xisa’s feet dragged as she walked along the chilly forest trails. She cursed herself for not better thinking through her crime beforehand.
Maybe she could actually find a way to explain to Morg that the harp was dangerous. That Morg ought to quit playing it. Xisa could keep it tucked away for her so she wouldn’t be tempted, it was in a safe place, after all! She’d learn all the English she needed to communicate her thoughts, she could even ask Maisha for help here and there, she just needed to learn enough words to tell Morg that the thing was dangerous and she shouldn’t keep playing it.
Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.
Then again… Xisa thought, a sense of guilt tweaking at her heart, What evidence do I even have? I thought I saw the scarecrow move on its own, but…. It was dark and windy, and I was tired. Xisa kicked a pebble with the edge of her boot. It bounced a couple times before disappearing into the thick layer of pine needles blanketing the forest floor. What would I even say to her? …Maybe I was wrong about all of this. Maybe… I should just give it back.
Xisa sighed again. She really didn’t want Morg to have her harp back. But…
Will Morg hate me for this? The thought floated into her mind, making her heart sink even more.
Having made up her mind, Xisa turned on her heel and headed deeper into the forest. Within no time, she found herself beneath a towering cedar, a deep hollow carved into its base. Xisa knelt in the cold straw and mud of the ground and leaned her torso into the hollow before pulling out a small, heavy case. Just to be certain, she opened the pack and made sure the harp was still there. The dark, 15-string instrument sat in its case, looking as pristine and spotless as it always did.
Xisa closed the case back up and slung it over her back. With a sigh, she began her trudge back to the house. Though the sun had long since dipped below the trees, just enough light lingered to guide Xisa home. After a while of walking, Xisa noticed a snow flurry landing on the sleeve of her coat. She watched the white speck melt, leaving behind a wet spot on her arm. Xisa looked up, watching the snowflakes fall lazily to the ground, dusting her brows and lashes with ice. With a slight frown tugging at the corners of her lips, Xisa dusted the wet snow off herself and continued on her way.
*
Within no time, Xisa found herself at the hut. Just as she reached out to open the front door, however, she paused, her hand hovering over the brass knob. With a sigh, she retracted her hand and sat down on the cold ground, leaning her back against the walls of the house. How was she going to explain herself? As she contemplated her strategy, Morg’s and Songbai’s voices floated out from inside.
“…structors all said that I was a prodigy! Even though I’m the youngest of their pupils, I’ve made the most progress in the shortest amount of time, and am even better than most casual harp players they’ve ever known!” Morg boasted gleefully. Xisa’s eyes widened. It was happening again! She could understand Morg clearly! As if the two of them didn’t speak different languages at all! Xisa decided to listen for a while, hoping to catch a hint about how upset Morg would be to learn she had stolen her harp.
After Morg had continued bragging about her impressive harp playing for a while longer, Songbai finally spoke up. Xisa recognized it as English, but she couldn’t quite make out all the words.
“Xisa… gone for… look for her…”
“Yeah. I hope she comes back soon.”
“You… took…”
“No, I don’t see why she would want to take it. She’s my best friend, of course she wouldn’t steal from me.”
Best friend? Xisa felt her heart skip a beat. Does Morg really think of me as her best friend?
Xisa felt her heart warm a little, even with the snowfall steadily increasing. But the happy feeling died almost immediately when she remembered her imminent confession. Xisa cursed herself internally. How could she steal something so precious from her best friend?! Would Morg still feel the same way about her when she found out?
Songbai said something else, but Xisa couldn’t make any of the words out. Suddenly Morg’s words cut through the frigid air again.
“Of course I’d forgive her,” came the young girl’s matter-of-fact words, “I’m sure she would’ve had a good reason to if she did take it.”
Hearing those words, Xisa felt her heart swell with a rush of confidence.
“Oh, I hope I can find my harp soon! Song Laoshi, you’ll be stunned when you hear it, I’m certain! My teachers all said I was so incredible because I practiced my scales every day and I paid extra attention to technique! They said that a proper foundation was the most important thing and that everything builds off of that,” Morg babbled passionately. “Song Laoshi, did you know that watching yourself play is the most efficient way to get a strong foundation? Because you can see what your fingers and hands and wrists are doing and make adjustments accordingly!”
Stroking Yuzan for good luck (he again sat warmly nestled by Xisa’s ribcage), Xisa grabbed the brass knob and pushed open the door.
“That’s why I used to practice in front of a mirror every day!”
Xisa froze, the cold wind sweeping through the doorway, bringing in with it icy snow flurries that caused the crackling fire to quiver. An idea took form within the shadows of the young witch’s mind, sparked to life by that simple exclamation.
She used to practice her harp… in front of a mirror… every day?
“Oh!!!! Xisa!! You’re back!” Morg shouted gleefully when she spotted her friend, skipping towards her. Xisa knew she ought to take a step forward and reconcile with her friend, but for some reason, she felt stuck in place. The image of Morg’s reflection biting off all of its fingers sprung into Xisa’s mind, sending a shiver up her spine.
“Oh!!! Oh oh oh!!! And you have my harp!!!!” Morg scurried closer to her, but Xisa took another step back.
Then the harp might really…
“Xisa…?” Morg asked tentatively, snapping the dark-eyed girl out of her thoughts.
Xisa’s eyes flitted up to meet Morg’s malachite gaze for half a second before she lowered her head to look at the floor. It wasn’t just that she felt guilty; when she looked at her friend, images suddenly arose of those rotten teeth protruding out of Morg’s gums, rusty slime oozing out and her too-long tongue lolling grossly past bloated lips…
Morg reached to take the instrument from her, but Xisa only backed further away, her grip tightening.
“Xisa, what’s wrong?”
“Xiaoha?” Songbai called questioningly.
Xisa glanced at Songbai, who had stood up from her place at the kitchen table and was steadily making her way over to the two girls. The horror Xisa felt must not have shown on her face, because Songbai seemed in no way perturbed, simply asking in Chinese,
“Where have you been all day? And what’re you doing with Morg’s harp?” Though her tone was gentle, a hint of sternness leaked into her voice. Xisa paused, momentarily considering telling Songbai about Morg’s midnight escapades with her eerie instrument, about Morg’s animated reflection and the scarecrow she thought she saw move. But the thought of divulging Morg's secrets without her friend’s permission left this sour taste in her mouth and in the end, she remained silent.
“Xiaoha… Were you jealous that Morg had an instrument while you didn’t?” Songbai then asked, her voice lowering sympathetically. Thinking it as good an excuse as any and not sure how else to explain herself, Xisa nodded after a slight pause.
“Ah… Xiaoha, we can get you an instrument if you want to learn to play something. But this is Morg’s harp. Alright? Give it back, then.”
Something about the tone of Songbai’s voice made Xisa feel restless and frustrated, even if the words were reasonable. As if she was being placated or pitied. She felt misunderstood. And she knew she could clear up that misunderstanding, but that thought made Xisa feel equally frustrated. Xisa stood frozen in place, her mind trying to work out her next course of action.
Seeing Xisa making no move to return the harp, Morg snuck around behind her before pouncing on her friend, trying to pry the case off of Xisa’s back. Xisa spun around in a panic, accidentally knocking Morg to the ground.
“Ouch!” Morg cried when she landed roughly on her rump, her playful expression shifting into one of exasperation. Without skipping a beat, Xisa retreated back outside, harp in tow. The snow had begun to fall harder.
“Xisa, give it back! GIVE ME MY HARP BACK!” Morg screeched, hopping up and running after the dark-haired girl. With Xisa carrying the moderately heavy instrument, Morg quickly caught up to her, grabbing her by the arm and spinning her around.
“Xisa!!” Morg cried, locking eyes with her friend. With one look at Morg’s confused and anxious expression, Xisa’s heart wavered. But in the next second she had remembered those spooky entities- not just her reflection but the scarecrow, too- that Morg seemed to be bringing to life around her. She shook her golden-haired friend off once again. How else could she protect this idiot!
“Xisa, give it back!!!!” Morg demanded again. Xisa shook her head, even while trotting further away.
“Xiaoha,” Songbai called warningly as Xisa scampered further into the darkening woods. Just before Xisa left Songbai’s line of sight, Songbai flicked her fingers, staring intently at the young child. Xisa felt her body grow stiff, her limbs refusing to move as if overcome by rigor mortis. Morg quickly caught up with her and snatched her harp off of Xisa’s stiffened body.
Nonono don’t touch that evil thing, Morg!
Songbai began approaching the girls, the snow dusting her sleek black hair with flecks of light. With her treasure back in her hands, Morg immediately began opening the case to inspect the state of her harp.
Is she… gonna play it now!? Xisa’s heart began thumping in her chest.
Stop!
Xisa felt the word in her throat, so close to materializing there, but with her body still paralyzed, not a sound escaped past her lips. Xisa felt like her mind was spinning. How could she communicate the danger to Morg when she couldn’t even move?
Maybe… if Maisha was right about sharing thoughts… maybe we could communicate through our minds…?
Hanging on to this thread of hope, Xisa focused on her apprehension regarding the harp, her feelings of dread and caution. With a deep breath, Xisa bundled up those feelings and sent them into that abyss, hoping they would reach Morg and that Morg would understand.
But Morg had been practicing for months now, searching through her mind's eye to find that theoretical pathway through which she and Xisa could share sensations, emotions, and mana. And after much trial and error, she had finally identified it. Had finally made progress towards closing that mysterious passage. And over the past couple of weeks, the little fires that would start in Morg’s heart over nothing seemed to lessen. The wild surges in her mana had disappeared. She felt more in control.
So when she felt that familiar sensation of foreign feelings entering her mind, she closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and focused on blocking that pathway. And it worked! She opened her eyes and exhaled as those unwanted sensations disappeared. The pathway closed. Morg turned back to her harp, elated to have finally reunited with it after a day of searching.
Xisa had watched as Morg closed her eyes, her breathing deepening, as if she were focusing her every thought on one particular goal. And when Morg’s eyes reopened, Xisa felt that secret message she had so desperately sent rebound and dissipate instead. Surprised and somewhat flustered, Xisa habitually dumped her frustration and anxiety into that abyss, only for it to return, fresh on her mind as if it had never left. Xisa’s heart began to beat faster.
Taking a shaky breath, Xisa tried once again to send a feeling though that passageway- but to no avail. She strained her eyes- the only part of her that could move- to glance at Songbai. When would the elder witch release her from this paralysis? But Songbai seemed lost in thought, her brows furrowed and her eyes glazed over. Xisa felt her frustration grow, a hot coal burning in her stomach. She looked down at Morg again, who still crouched in the snow with her instrument. She had even taken it out of its case and set it up as if she were going to test out the strings.
Why hasn’t she put it down yet? Is she really going to play it?!
Xisa watched Morg look over her shoulder at the distracted Songbai, as if confirming her mentor’s presence before showing something off.
Stupid Morg, don’t play it! Xisa cursed internally. What if the harp’s music summoned that scarecrow to eat them? Or freed Morg’s reflection from the mirror? Playing that harp was like playing with fire!
Situating herself on the chilly ground, Morg sat the harp upright in her lap and exhaled a long sigh. Her pale fingers twitched in a lively manner as her hands reached up to stroke the strings.
“NO!” Xisa shouted as she attempted to break free from her paralysis and still Morg’s hands. But so surprised was she when her body actually moved, that rather than grabbing Morg’s hands with her own like she wanted, Xisa toppled clumsily onto Morg and her harp, something crunching beneath her body with a loud SNAP! Afraid she had broken something precious, Xisa immediately tried to get up, but quickly realized her legs were still paralyzed.
“MY HARP!!” Morg cried, shoving Xisa off her and picking through the pile of splintered wood and snapped strings with a forlorn expression. Songbai snapped her head up at the commotion. At the sight of Xisa’s half paralyzed body, the elder witch felt her blood run cold. Even at this age… this child could already overpower her in terms of mana? A bolt of stark white had also appeared in Xisa’s hair, the sudden streak confirming Songbai’s suspicions.
Not good, not good, if Xisa’s mana has already grown to this extent, with the meager amount of training we’ve given her, she could easily lose control. Songbai thought to herself, her face taking on an unusual paleness. I need to calm them down first…
“I…I-I-I…” Xisa stared wide-eyed at the instrument she had crushed.
I’m sorry! I’m so sorry!! Xisa screamed in her heart.
“Why would you take it?” Morg half-sobbed, “I would have let you borrow it if you really wanted to play with it, you just needed to ask! But why…”
Xisa opened and closed her mouth a few times, becoming less and less sure of what to say. Glancing between Morg’s heartbroken expression and Songbai’s grim stare, she felt like running away altogether, and might have, too, if not for the fact that her legs were still frozen stiff.
“Don’t… at Xiaoha… can fix it,” Songbai said, her words still garbled for Xisa whenever she spoke English.
“Really? You can?!” Morg asked, hope and excitement reanimating her eyes. Songbai offered Morg an affectionate smile.
“Xiaoha, are you hurt?” Songbai asked in Mandarin before crossing through the snow to check her for injuries. Xisa shook her head. Songbai smiled at her reassuringly. “Let me fix up the harp first, then we can head inside and warm up, alright?”
Fix up the harp… but not unparalyze my legs?
Xisa felt a suffocating sense of suspicion trickle into her still pounding heart.
Is she trying to trick me? Like my parents used to?
Songbai’s hands and fingers began flicking into odd motions and a string of strange mutterings escaped past her lips.
Worried the elder witch would paralyze her again, Xisa desperately blocked her head with her arms and hands. But after several seconds of worried anticipation, Xisa found herself pleasantly surprised that rather than being paralyzed, her legs had instead been released from the spell!
“XISA WHAT DID YOU DO?!” Morg suddenly screamed. Xisa snapped her head up, her eyes widening at the sight before her.
With her fine hair suspended in the wind, strong hands locked in a strange, mystical gesture, and that serene yet stern expression chiseled into her face, Songbai stood there, a perfectly still, perfectly silent, stone statue.
Xisa shook her head- there was no way she had done something like that! She couldn’t even manage the simplest of magic, hell, she wouldn’t be surprised if she wasn’t a witch at all!
“SHE WAS GONNA FIX MY HARP FOR ME SO YOU TURNED HER INTO A STATUE?!?!”
No! That’s not…
Xisa hopped to her feet and scampered over to Morg’s side, trying to find the right words to say.
It's fine… everythings fine. Songbai can fix Morg’s harp, we just need to get Maisha and everything will be alright… But more than that, now’s my chance to explain things to Morg. If we just get out of earshot of Song Laoshi I can explain everything without worrying about being overheard… although, can stone statues even hear?
She could still understand Morg right now so… hopefully that meant that Morg could understand her, too. If she could just get Morg to listen for a moment, she could make this right. She just had to find the right words, to explain everything about the scarecrow and her suspicions about the harp- to explain everything that she couldn’t when they didn’t understand each other.
But the moment Xisa’s cold fingers locked around Morg’s wrist, the golden-haired child snatched her arm away as if stung by her touch. Xisa glanced up at Morg in surprise. Malachite green eyes glowering with hostility the moment their gazes met. Xisa felt a shiver scuttle up her spine, her heart feeling as if it had been dunked in ice.
Don’t look at me like that… Don’t look at me… the way my parents used to…
“I guess I should find Maisha,” Morg muttered, turning her back to Xisa to stare at the Songbai statue.
Though even as she stated her intent to find Maisha, Morg’s attention instead turned back to her harp. The elder witch had managed to partially repair the instrument before she had transformed into rock, and although half of it was still mere splintered wood, the other half actually looked quite playable. With a rather heartbroken expression, Morg sank to her knees and reached to pick up her harp. The young girl had intended to gather up all the pieces of her most beloved possession- maybe that would help it get fixed faster, somehow. But Xisa didn’t know that.
“STOP!” Xisa shouted, snapping her hand out towards Morg just as her friend’s fingertips reached the instrument’s strings. With all her attention and focus bent on keeping the menacing instrument from making a sound, a strange pulse reverberated through the air, starting as a faint disturbance at Xisa’s fingertips but growing nearly visible as it approached the young witch and her harp. Morg snapped her head up.
Not even Morg was sure whether she saw or felt the unnatural disturbance in the air, but the young witch sensed an encroaching danger and leapt out of the way, scrambling to safety behind a nearby pile of brush. Although she tried rescuing her mangled harp as well, as soon as that strange pulse caressed the instrument, the strings and even pieces of wood began writhing as if with a mind of their own, wriggling away from each other in some sort of harmonious deconstruction before burrowing into the ground like alien worms. Seeing this, Morg frantically threw the remaining wood fragment in her hand away mere moments before it, too, began squirming in a way wood never should.
While Morg had moved almost immediately, Songbai was not so lucky. Even if she had sensed the unnatural magic, still being solid stone, she had no way of escaping. That writhing air brushed across the statue and almost immediately, it began to creak and twitch. At first, Morg felt ecstatic, thinking the Songbai had found a way to escape her stone prison. But then the statue sank into a distorted backbend, its head still somehow right-side-up and smiling with Songbai’s face as it scuttled around on its fingertips. Morg stifled a scream and burrowed deeper into the bushes.
From where she hid, Morg watched Xisa, wondering what exactly was going on in the girl’s head. Her usually dark hair had now turned a stark white- the same color as the pristine snow that now writhed in the air just as unnaturally as the pieces of her harp had. Though her face had lost all color, her expression looked as stoic as ever.
How could she still look so calm?! Morg found herself wondering. Did she… plan all of this? Just because she was jealous?!
Morg watched as the Songbai statue scuttered towards her Xisa, backing the girl into a nearby tree. Xisa’s whole body was tense, her breaths coming quickly. Even from her hiding spot, Morg could see her friend’s hands trembling, giving away her fear.
Gah, I’m being stupid! It's Xisa, she never shows her emotions! And she wouldn’t plan something like this! Even if she’s being dumb right now, we’re still friends!
“X-Xisa!” Morg called back to her, popping out of the bush. “It’s alright, I-I-I’ll go get Ms. Maisha!”
“Wait! Don’t leave me here!” Xisa begged in response as the Songbai stature creeped closer to her. Morg paused, slightly taken aback.
“…When did your English become so good!?” she asked, as if completely forgetting about the eerie magics contorting the world around her.
“It… hasn’t,” Xisa replied before letting out a yelp, “AEH!”
The tree Xisa had backed into suddenly uprooted itself and began tittering around on its roots, the motion of them looking very much like octopus tentacles skittering across the ocean floor.
“What?!” Morg cried, taken aback not at the tree but at her ability to understand Xisa. “Then how can I understand you perfectly…” she muttered to herself.
Don’t tell me my Mandarin became so good without me realizing that I accidentally started speaking in Chinese to Xisa?!
The corners of Morg’s lips lifted ever so slightly.
I’m really… a prodigy at everything!
“Don’t worry, Xisa! I’ll get help for you!” Morg said, suddenly seeming rather confident. “You can count on me!”
Xisa spared a glance for her friend as the girl skirted around the mess of writhing sticks and strings before disappearing into the house. She couldn’t help but feel she had caused Morg to misunderstand something…
The Songbai statue crept closer to Xisa, its wiggling fingers tapping the ground by Xisa’s toes as it pressed its face up towards Xisa’s with a wide, almost expectant smile. Xisa stepped back and nearly fell into the pit left by the uprooted tree, only managing to steady herself at the last second. Though the statue didn’t really seem dangerous, its eerie expression and unnatural position made her heart feel like it might explode.
Hurry back, Morg…