Member
Forsythe
Cerera
tadcfnaf
Achronum
Zeus23
xVampire3go
Antlers
Morose
The winter term at the Margaret Carter Institute was about to begin, and with that came an influx of new professors. At a school staffed by superheroes, it wasn’t uncommon for a teacher to need replacement in the middle of the year - in fact, Nimue’s resignation at the end of the fall semester had been somewhat of a blessing. The administration team was used to having to replace their staff in the middle of a term, disrupting grading and lessening the overall quality of the education. And while her departure’s timing had been far from the worst case scenario, the position she vacated was.
Almost every witch, wizard, warlock, sorcerer, and mage with an interest in teaching the youth of today was employed by Strange Academy in New Orleans. Their previous magic instructor, Agatha Harkness, had already been poached by the Sorcerer Supreme to join the ranks of his faculty. Margaret Carter had sent out offers, begging whoever would take their calls - beseeching Brother Voodoo, Zelma Stanton, Max Gray, Amora the Enchantress, Pixie, and more. There had even been a brief discussion of making offers to some of Strange Academy’s senior students, the ones embroiled in its elite coven system.
But in the end, the position had been filled by one of their own - a world renowned Avenger and Nexus being who had possessed Chthon, the Scarlet Witch herself… on a temporary basis. She had only agreed to teach at Margaret Carter for the spring semester, as she didn’t want her son, Billy, to be without a magical practitioner to guide him.
So she had left her shop in the sleepy town of Lotkill, New York behind, entrusting it to her dear friend and protege, Darcy Lewis, and come to the hallowed halls of Avengers Academy. The new term was to begin tomorrow, starting with a school tradition - a festival, celebrating their returning students, and newfound winners of the Contest of Champions. So for the next forty eight hours, her task was not to mold minds, but instead to mold reality - to turn Nimue’s musty, mildewy classroom into something remotely habitable.
Ivy crawled all over the walls, potted plants dangling from iron chains, and numerous candles dripped their wax onto the heavy oak furniture, providing the only light in this witch’s sanctum. Crystal balls glittered in their light, as did bowls carved from bone, filled with crystals and runes and incense. Dusty potion bottles and tools lined the shelves, with careful handwritten labels disclosing their contents. Heavy, ornate rugs covered the floor, matching the tapestries pinned to the walls - but even with their warmth, the room was still frigid and cold. The smell of incense was palpable and strong, the smoke enough to make one’s eyes sting - and in the midst of it all, the Scarlet Witch clicked her tongue, examining her work.
The aesthetic was promising, yes, but not quite yet what she had had in mind. Her eyes glowed a soft red, as she prepared to shift the blocks of reality again and start over, when…
Wanda tilted her head ever so slightly. “Come in,” she called out, her eyes fixed on the classroom door. “Do not be afraid.”
Leah stood in the doorway, towering over the scene. She was wearing her Excelsior jacket that, gods be praised, actually fit. The cold didn’t seem to bother her, but then again, few places were colder than Jotunheim.
Magic was a difficult thing for Leah, despite the luck she had so far, learning it. The candlefire reflected off her eyes, making them glow gently. Despite being much taller, and much more physically imposing, Leah felt somewhat intimidated being here. She made sure it was okay to come before barging in and annoying a professor, who was clearly busy, about this predicament of hers. But still, the not-so-neurotypical part of her brain was voicing an opinion.
”Am I interrupting?” Leah asked. Despite this being her idea.
Wanda’s red glow faded to a dim, almost cosmic sparkle. There was something almost predatory in the way she inclined her head, in the way she smiled sweetly at the young giantess. And yet, she was not dressed in any of the many gowns that adorned the lunchboxes of screaming children - no, instead she wore her signature red tiara, her hair done in voluminous curls that rivaled Leah’s, a pink button up blouse, red slacks, and scarlet heels.
“Oh, yes,” Wanda said. “But please, don’t fret. I love the chaos of an interruption,” she added with a wink.
Leah stepped inside, and closed the door behind her. The room was awfully full for someone such as her to be standing in it. So she kept still and took in her surroundings. Lots of glass and other magical implements she didn’t know the names of.
”I’m Leah. I emailed you yesterday.” About how she had taken up rune magic lately, and hit a metaphorical wall in doing so. She conventionally omitted the part where writing it took a literal hour.
“Ah, yes… Trouble with runes,” Wanda’s smile faded ever so slightly. “It’s a pity you only found this magic now. Runes are Agatha’s specialty. But not to fret, I would be happy to guide you as you walk your path.” She then strode across the room, her heels clicking on the exposed patches of floor not covered by rugs, until she reached a large, ornate mirror obscured by a white cloth. She pulled the cloth down and swept it aside. “How is your control, Leah?”
”I… Don’t really have anything to compare that to. Usually, nothing goes wrong, except for the time I set my hand on fire.” She held it up, and there was a brown patch where her otherwise gray skin had been torched. ”The stuff I’ve used them for so far has been pretty simple, though.”
Wanda raised an eyebrow. She stepped away from the mirror, and moved back to Leah. She held out her hands. “May I?”
”Uh. Sure?” Leah extended her hand to Wanda.
Gently, Wanda took Leah’s hand in one palm. With her other, she traced the boundaries of the scarred tissue, a soft incantation muttered under her breath. And as she did, a soft yellow glow began to form on Leah’s hand, a line dancing around her skin, until the rune’s image was completed. The echo of Leah’s magic pulsed, before it vanished.
“I see. Kenaz,” Wanda mused. “Still hot to the touch, yes?” she added, as her fingers slipped to the gray skin. The temperature gradient was subtle, but present.
”Yeah, kind of. We were on Jotunheim, and had to get warm. Got more than I asked for. That was the only time something backfired on me.”
The Scarlet Witch clicked her tongue slightly. “It will not be the first,” she warned. “Before I teach you, Leah, I need you to understand one of the great truths of witchcraft. You cannot unring a bell. You can destroy the bell, drown out its noise, pretend someone else struck it - but once it has rung, there is nothing you can do to change that. Do you understand?”
She thought about it for a moment. Magic was pretty dangerous, from what little she knew of it. It made sense.
”I do. Actions have consequences, right?”
“Yes,” Wanda nodded, a sad smile gracing her lips. “When we work our magicks, we alter the nature of reality. We court chaos, armed with our hopes and good intentions. But for every great spell that you cast, every life you save, there is a price. Some believe that this price is… energetic in nature. A year off your life. A spiritual debt you must pay. It is both simpler and more complicated than that.”
“For every good you do, for every act of kindness and generosity, you will be punished,” Wanda warned. “A balance will be struck. Perhaps today, perhaps tomorrow, perhaps in a thousand years when you are nothing but dust… To ring the bell is to dance with Death.”
“And to choose this path while knowing its cost is to be a witch,” she paused, her form cast half in shadow from the flickering candle light. “Armed with this knowledge, Leah, do you still wish to walk this road?”
”Yeah, I do. I don’t doubt there’s some cost to this. Stephen Strange told me all magic had a cost to it.” And she wanted to be a hero. Heroes paid costs so others didn’t.
”There’s a piece of me that’s been missing for a long time, and I only just recently learned there was a hole,” Leah explained. ”I want to say I can live with a few sacrifices here and there, even though I don’t know what those will be, yet. I’m not going to use what you teach me for evil, I know that much. So yeah, I’m ready.”
“Your sacrifices will be equal to the works that you perform,” Wanda warned. It was a truth she knew all too well. She could see herself standing where Leah stood, asking these same questions, making these same vows. She had not intended to do evil, and yet, she had caused hurt and suffering all the same. She had warped reality without respect, without care, and it had cost her - and the world - dearly. She had committed sins that could not be forgiven.
“Then follow me,” Wanda requested, as Leah affirmed she was ready. “You will need a safe place to work your spells,” she explained, as she returned to the mirror. She rested her hand on its surface gently, before she pushed and the surface rippled like water. She turned her gaze to look at her pupil, before Wanda stepped through the mirror as if it was a door, and disappeared.
Oh, good. More teleporting. Because Leah loved teleporting.
She walked over to the mirror and pondered it for a moment. Where was she going this time? The Astral Plane? Some weird pocket dimension made out of Dormammu’s left kidney? Fucking Nastrond, maybe? Oh well.
She touched the mirror.
As Leah touched the mirror, its glass surface would ripple once more, as if she had disturbed the surface of a pond. And should she push on through, she would find herself in a near perfect reflection of Wanda’s classroom, the room tinted in a rich swirl of pink, red, and purple light. “Sorcerers are not the only ones who can access the Mirror Dimension,” Wanda greeted.
Her clothing had shifted too - no longer dressed in modern garb, but something far more magical. A dark purple one piece, with a red cloak lined in gold embroidery that began at her waist, its hem sweeping the floor. An ancient artifact was adhered to sheer lilac fabric on her chest, the moon symbol of the triple goddess, where the full moon had been replaced with an eye. Arcane sigils glowed on her palms, stitched into her gloves, and her face was awash with brilliant red light, emanating downwards from an astral tiara. She did not stand on the ground, instead, she floated above it, looking by every measure a goddess of strange arcana.
“When you are ready, Leah… Show me.”
”...Woah.”
Okay. Magic… Magic, magic, magic. Leah reached into her jacket and withdrew a marker. She practiced a few spells and runes in particular lately. She looked around for something glass, picked up a mirrored jar and drew something on it.
”Okay. This is something I’ve been working on the last few days.”
She held it up and showed Wanda the sigil. A combination of the runes Algiz and Tiwaz.
Wanda studied the runes for a moment. “I see,” she mused. “Algiz and Tiwaz. An interesting and potent combination. But as I am certain you do not need me to tell you, runes can mean many things. Without your intent, they lack meaning. For example… this combination could be designed to embolden a somewhat fearful deer to defend itself. Or perhaps it is meant to provide protection to a witness providing testimony against a powerful foe. But I digress. What is your intent with these runes?”
”To protect what it’s written on. Either a person or an object. Like a barrier.” Leah raised the jar up, reared back, and flung it at a wall like it offended her. The jar when thunk against the wall, landed, and looked pretty banged up afterwards.
The jar, somehow, didn’t explode into a million bits. It was technically in one piece, but absolutely riddled with cracks, like someone had been practicing kintsugi without the gold or silver.
”Preferably better than that.”
Wanda nodded. She tapped her finger against her chin a few times as she thought. It was by no means bad for a first attempt - she had seen students struggle for months to get a known enchantment to take effect, and this was a spell Leah had designed herself. “When you cast, where is your mind?” she inquired.
”Usually, I’m thinking of why I’m casting something.” She fidgeted with the marker in her hand. ”Most of what I’ve done so far hasn’t involved mixing runes up. I’ve just stuck with using one for something, but that’s vague. I’ve noticed that having an idea of what it’s supposed to do helps. One time, my friend flooded a hallway by accident. So I stuck an inverted Laguz rune on the wall and got rid of all the water. That could’ve meant a few things, but it worked perfectly when I did it.”
“So with the jar, were your thoughts merely on the demonstration of your magicks?”
”Something like that. Yeah, that might be the problem, actually. Does it work that way when you do your thing?”
Wanda laughed slightly. “Every witch is different,” she acknowledged. “But there are certain aspects in which us and our sisters are similar in our craft. You are working with runes - effectively, with concepts. That is a field that pretends to have rules and structure, yet is more similar to the underpinnings of chaos and wild magic. You have decided the meaning of your spell, you are not following an ancient ritual in a grimoire that calls for extreme precision and dedication. In short, your magic takes shape as you will it to do so.”
“I believe your problem is a lack of faith, of intent,” she analyzed. “Show me again. And this time, mean it.”
Mean it. Okay, then.
Leah picked up another glass jar and drew the symbol on it a second time. Slower.
”Don’t break. Be stronger.”
It went flying again. And this time, it was more like a grenade going off. Her strength, plus fragile glass, plus a failed attempt at casting the spell equaled plenty of broken glass.
And Leah seemed a bit surprised.
”...Damn.”
Wanda clicked her tongue again. “Perhaps the issue is that you do not truly care about this jar,” she mused. “Can you persuade yourself that you do - that you have the same level of care for this job as you do for a friend? Hm. I wonder…”
She snapped her fingers, as the jar repaired itself, reassembling its jagged pieces until its shape was restored. “I want you to hold the image of a loved one in your mind, and convince yourself that the safety of this jar is equivalent to their own safety. And once you have done so, you may try again.”
It was just a jar. A piece of glass in an experimental dimension. It meant nothing, it wouldn’t have mattered, because it was meant to be destroyed over and over again like this.
But if that was April? It’d be ruinous for that to happen. What if she got hurt, and Leah’s spell was all that kept her alive? She picked the jar up and stared into it. Her face reflected off the glass, with her stony expression staring back at her.
If she couldn’t protect a simple piece of glass, she definitely couldn’t protect a person.
She touched the rune, and whispered.
”You’re important. You can’t break. If what I do to protect you isn’t good enough, then I’m not good enough.”
Fling. It shattered.
”Ooookay. I’ll figure it out eventually.”
Wanda’s eyes widened. “Stop,” she requested. “Say what you just said - not about figuring it out eventually, but before.”
”If it’s not good enough, then I’m not,” Leah repeated. ”This is a skill, right? I’ll get better eventually, even if I’m not good now.”
“It is,” Wanda affirmed. “I had thought the issue was that you did not believe in your magicks, Leah. But I think it is something else. You do not believe in yourself. If you are to shape the world through your will, you must have faith that you can. You must have courage and strength and conviction.”
Oh.
”I’m not… I’m not afraid of this. This is just really new to me, I don’t understand a lot of this. I’m trying. Is there more to it than that?”
“This may be a personal question, but magic is personal. How do you view yourself?”
”That’s vague. But, okay, uh…” She looked up at the ceiling instead of at Wanda. ”I like to think I’m tougher than other people. I’m stubborn, I guess. Have to be, and- And I’ve had to make peace with that a lot lately. So, am I cheating if I say that’s a complicated question? There’s at least three answers. I’ve been three different people, kind of.”
Wanda pursed her lips for a moment. “Perhaps I should be more clear. Do you like yourself, Leah?”
”Not completely. I’m not perfect. Trying to be better, but… Not perfect.”
She nodded, smiling somewhat sadly. It was a feeling she could relate to. “Your magic comes from you, Leah. It is as innate to you as any other part of yourself. If you cannot accept yourself - if you cannot love yourself, for good or for ill, then your spells will suffer for it,” Wanda explained. “I want you to look into the surface of the mirror and embrace what you see. And then, one more time if you will humor me… cast.”
”Alright.” She stepped over to the mirror and stared into it. It was a magic mirror, apparently. Leah wondered if it was like her sword, which reflected a lot of different versions of herself back at her.
But it was just herself. No riddles. No convoluted messages. Just to embrace what she saw.
She saw a tough girl who wasn’t afraid to stand between hell and her friends. That’s who she was. Yes, she was imperfect. Yes, she had work to do before she could call herself a proper hero. But what else? She was a great listener at the end of the day, she had more love for the world around her than she knew what to do with. For other people, for the planet she was on. A bit more love for herself wouldn't hurt.
Do better, because you are.
She reached for another glass jar, drew the rune, and gave it some power.
”I will make progress. If not today, then tomorrow. If not tomorrow, then the next day. And the next day after that.”
Fling.
The jar hit the wall with all the destructiveness of a tennis ball. It didn’t even behave like glass.
“Very good, Leah!” Wanda praised. She was beaming at her new student. “When you will it, there is nothing you cannot do. My advice to you then is this - your magic comes from you. Accept yourself and your magic shall follow.” Wanda then paused for a moment. “Now, I expect I shall see you in my class, yes?”
”Yeah… Yeah, I’ll be there.” Holy shit, she actually did it. Her eyes were like floodlights for a moment. ”I need to keep practicing that, but I’m absolutely showing up. I was expecting this to take way longer… Thank you.”
“Oh, you are more than welcome. It is not every day I get to meet such a young and talented witch,” Wanda said warmly. “I will recommend you practice in the mirror dimension as you are learning your control. I will be teaching you how to access it in our first class together.”
”That would be pretty helpful, actually.”
There was a pause.
”...I’m starting to realize there’s a lot of different words for a person who uses magic. Wizard, Sorcerer, Witch, Warlock. Magician.”
Wanda nodded, a playful light dancing in her eyes. “Yes - some of them are helpful distinctions. Others… not so much. Is there one that resonates with you?”
”Not really. I’m not sure what the differences are. But… Someone I’m related to, who I’ve never met, was apparently a witch. Or is, I dunno if she’s alive right now. Maybe that one.”
She regarded her thoughtfully for a moment, before she stepped back through the mirror. Once they returned to the classroom, Wanda’s clothes shifted back to her previous outfit. “Perhaps you should find out,” she suggested. “Not all witches have such a lineage - but your past is as much a part of you as your future. If you are serious about your studies of the occult, it would be good to learn of the witches who came before you. Hm. Yes. And to encourage you, that will be your first project this semester. I would like very much to hear what you discover.”
”Projects, huh. I can do that, I think. I’ll just dress warmer next time I go to Jotunheim. I’m gonna go, I’ve got things to do before tomorrow.”
The Scarlet Witch laughed, shaking her head slightly. “You’re a funny one. I look forward to our next meeting, Leah.”
