A witch in training had to wake up early. My eyes opened with the rise of the sun, not by habit but by instinct.
“I just wanna sleep…”
It was still a bit dark outside as I lugged my heavy limbs out of bed, and two little animals accompanied me: Carbuncle, the established familiar, and White-Owl.
Carbuncle was a familiar summoned by my teacher, but she passed him down to me after he appeared to take a liking to me.
White-Owl was a snowy owl I took in as a fledgling and turned into my familiar after finding the chick’s mommy owl dead. According to my teacher, the color white was a symbol of the servants of God, but it meant little to me either way.
My teacher had tons of familiars, but these two were my own. They were both intelligent and capable of powerful magic—according to my teacher, at least.
“Both of your familiars are incredibly wise. They possess intellect far beyond your own.”
“Hardy-har-har. You and your jokes.”
My teacher didn’t look like she was joking when she said this, but she couldn’t possibly have been serious.
“Good morning, you two.”
The two sat quietly while I petted them, each closing their eyes in bliss. Their fur and feathers were puffed up, almost like they were so comfortable that they could fall back asleep right there. Waking them up again after their morning petting session was a part of my daily routine of witchery.
“Aaah-aaaaaah…”
Yawning loudly as I heated some water for the teakettle was also a part of the routine. With some tea on the stove, I headed for my teacher’s study. Two firm knocks elicited the “Come in” I was used to hearing every morning.
“Excuse me.”
Opening the door revealed my teacher, who was already nose-deep in a book with her reading glasses on. At what time she’d started reading was beyond me.
In fact, I wasn’t even sure if I’d ever seen the Eternal Witch, Lady Faust, tired before. Perhaps being a first-class witch meant never sleeping. It was something I couldn’t possibly fathom.
“Good morning, Meg.”
“Good morning…”
“You need to speak more clearly in the—”
My teacher stopped speaking as soon as she turned to look at me.
“What happened? You’re a mess.”
“Heh, well, I was awakened by a vicious attack this morning…”
Saying this with the slightest bit of contempt in my voice had my two familiars hang their heads low in sorrow. My teacher shrugged in exasperation, suggesting she didn’t approve of our morning antics.
“Here’s your tea.”
“Oh, thank you.”
She took a sip, then let out a long exhale. Leaving her to her cup of tea, I fed all the small animals that were just waking up. They were my teacher’s familiars, of which there were easily over a thousand. Though there was only about a third of them in the room that day, it was still an imposing number to behold.
The familiars always came to my feet when they were hungry. This part of my morning ritual never ceased to make me feel like a pet food dispenser. That’s essentially all I was as I dropped seeds and corn kernels here and there for them to eat. They would eat up every last crumb, otherwise my teacher would get mad at them for leaving anything behind.
“Here’s some food. Who’s a good little woodland creature? You are! And you. And you, and you, and…”
Over the years of feeding and training the little tykes, I’d acquired all sorts of strange animal care techniques. Sometimes, I felt more like a zoo employee than I did an apprentice witch.
“Whew,” I said after leaving the study and heading back to the kitchen. Animal-clad in White-Owl, who sat perched on my head, and Carbuncle, who sat in a similar position on my shoulders, I looked a bit odd as I prepared breakfast for us humans.
Bacon and eggs with a side of salad, a slice of bread, and some fruit for dessert. This was the same breakfast we’d had at the manor for as long as I could remember, and my teacher would always appear at the breakfast table right when I finished making it.
Mornings were always peaceful at the witch’s manor.
“Meg.”
“What’s up?”
“I must focus on my work this morning, so I will leave the manor in your care.”
“You got it. Did something happen?”
“Yes, in the United States. It has to do with a politician, and as the request for my help was made through the Council of Magic, I cannot ignore it.”
“Wow, sounds complicated. I know zilch about politics.”
“You really ought to make it a habit to watch the news. Magic is to know the flow of life, scoop up that flow, and mold it. That is part of our role as witches in this world.”
“I think people like me are better suited to concerning themselves with what’s for dinner than the world’s politics.”
“That I cannot disagree with.”
“Just so you know, I’m inviting you to disagree with me when I self-deprecate.”
We finished eating, and in line with her declaration, my teacher returned to her study, where she cooped herself up. She would only ever show herself at mealtimes when she was this busy. My teacher had the ability to hyperfocus beyond human comprehension to accomplish a difficult task at hand. I believe she told me at some point that “Focus is the key to accomplishing any great task.”
Her words didn’t strike a chord with me, though, given that I’d yet to accomplish anything great despite being the perfect example of focus.
“I guess we’d better get to cleaning.”
“Hoot.”
“Squeak.”
White-Owl and Carbuncle were there to answer my words uttered to no one in particular.
“That’s everyone.”