Location: American Museum of Natural History, New York City
Time: Late Afternoon, The Next Day
Ben stood outside, his face obscured by his oversized hoodie and some sunglasses, as he raised his head to observe the museum. It was an iconic and large stone structure that reminded him more of a Roman senate building than a museum. Two large pillars sided the entrance while several individuals climbed up and down the section of stairs to go about their day’s activities, most appeared to be chittering families or friends.
It didn't surprise Ben if he was honest with himself. The museum often gained guests based on their newest attraction and the time of season, witches being a popular topic now a days. A thought crossed his young mind when he questioned the reality of witches existing. Considering he had met some of the strangest metas in his life and was no longer normal himself, the chances grimly increased in the witch’s favor. Giving a small sigh, the DA’s son pushed off toward the doors.
He brought a ticket, with money provided by his guardian, then shifted toward the bathrooms. Changing into nearly identical clothes within one of the stalls, he stashed his clothes into the bag where in the bathroom before making his exit. Ben gradually made his way to the witch exhibit, finally, where he assumed Skyler would be. Growling, Skyler had been nowhere to be found and likely won’t be for a long time Ben assumed.
Táph’s words still rattled in his head but he pushed it to the side, his attention turned inward as his eyes closed to center himself.
Odors swirled around his nose causing him to inhale deeply, his eyes snapped open in shock and continued to inhale. A familiar smell wafted into his nostrils causing them to flare deeper. It was a bit earthy, rich and a hint of bittersweet to it. His figure causally searched over the exhibit for the source until he finally settled upon a stone with a hole within it.
“Welcome, everyone, to the first annual guided tour on the History of European Witchcraft here at the Museum of Natural History,” the tour guide began, leading two large groups through a maze of exhibits featuring strange artifacts of all descriptions. Worn animal skin tomes with fragile pages, bone fetishes and clay poppets hammered with nails, dusty vials filled with dark liquid, rods, wands, and staves all inscribed with indiscernible lettering and forgotten scripts.
Marie followed the group closely, excitedly scanning each of the different cases and shelves. Surprisingly, she had passed through security without a problem, her long coat being taken as trendy rather than shifty. Holt clung to Marie’s shoulder in an ethereal form, trying to sense whatever magic might be laden behind the glass panes. Unfortunately, neither of them knew what to look for. After all, this was a witchcraft exhibit. Any one of these artifacts could have belonged to Gwyneth, and all of them, when used correctly, held power.
”This is hopeless,” Marie whispered to Holt as they wandered along the row of exhibits.
”My spell couldn’t have narrowed it down any further?””These exhibits are organized according to region. Might I suggest finding the section on English Witchcraft and searching for something from Gwyneth’s era?” Holt cooly replied. Perhaps he hadn’t meant to sound so sarcastic, but Marie couldn’t help but take it that way.
She chuckled,
”The thought had crossed my mind, but there’s no guarantee it’ll have ended up in that section, nor that it will have been properly dated. We don’t even know what ‘it’ is. All Gwyneth gave me was ‘find my eye.’ She could have meant that literally or figuratively. Maybe she had a penchant for stealing sailor’s eyes, who knows?” Marie was growing frustrated. Gwyneth’s vision only helped supply the location of her missing “eye.”
Marie decided that, though it was obvious, she was better of starting in the English Witchcraft section, at least so she could cross it off her list of potential sections.
Benjamin’s hands pulled back his hood as he read the card marker over it. A witch stone. The information over it detailed it being used to see what couldn’t be seen by the mortal eye, namely the true nature of things, when one looked through the stone’s middle. Not sure why it smelt so different, he turned away in an attempt to ignore it and another strong whiff smacked into his attention. His eyes widened at the new, yet similar scent being emitted right before him.
His nostrils flared, drinking in the fresher scent, causing him to stare at the woman behind him. He knew his expression was likely confusion as his nose wrinkled, mentally trying to understand the scent. The impulse to lean in closer to the woman and just spend hours investigating the new smell grew in intensity the more he stayed near her. His fingers tightened over the bar separating the current tour from the exhibits, the tour guide prattling on about the history, while he resisted the instinct.
Marie leaned in closer to view the cases and the accompanying labels. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary and nothing in particular called to her. Witch bottles, ladders, hag stones, they were all common pieces of folk magic that Marie had plenty of experience with, but had no reason to believe they belonged to Gwyneth. Holt too scanned the glass, but he was more preoccupied with the image of a youth leaning away from Marie. Holt took a closer look at the stranger, noting the flair of his nostrils and his overall strange mannerisms.
Holt tapped Marie’s shoulder.
”I believe the boy in front of you is having some strange reaction to your scent.””What?” Marie replied, quickly sniffing the insider of her coat and her wrists. She smelled of generic perfume, but nothing particularly strong. She certainly didn’t smell bad, she made sure to shower multiple times after her meeting with Broker. Marie looked over and, sure enough, the boy was acting repulsed by her.
Marie looked around for a moment, smelling the air to make sure it wasn’t something else before turning her attention to him and asking,
”Excuse me? Is something wrong?”Ben panicked inside when the woman’s eyes fell on him. His figure tensed and fingers gripped harder, whitening briefly from the reaction. He studied her but found nothing that screamed magic on her person. She looked like a normal, average woman he would never blink twice at on the street. However, his nose screamed otherwise poking at his curiosity and need for answers.
Even more confusing was why that witch stone held her very scent when she didn’t appear to be museum staff or had helped set up the exhibits. She wouldn’t have bothered with the tour if she did.
He wanted to say nothing and quickly rush off, but that risked leaving him stranded here. He wasn’t about to walk home to face Lorrie’s wrath for being neglective. Biting down on his wolf instincts, Benjamin forced himself to relax as he relapsed into a more casual posture. It had been beyond easy to achieve thanks to his anxiety growing by the moment.
“It’s hard to explain. I'm sorry, but excuse my behavior. Umm, do you happen to know about this right here? I would ask the tour guide but she seems rather busy.” Ben pointed to the witch stone as he felt strange asking a complete stranger to give him the history over it, noting her reaction and couldn’t explain why he couldn’t come up with better way to approach this odd situation. Part of him hoped the awkward teenage wolf years would pass sooner than later.
Something seemed off to Marie, but she brushed away the feeling of unease to answer his query.
”Uh, sure. It’s a witch stone, also known as a hag stone, adder stone, serpent’s egg. It’s a stone with a naturally occuring hole in it that was used in various folk magic traditions to protect against malicious magic, ward off and cure snake bites, and most famously see through magical glamours and disguises.”Ben mumbled under his breath.
“That explains it.” His figure leaned forward onto the barrier as he stared at the hag stone with a frown, at least having part of the puzzle solved.
“So is it only used by witches? Or can it be used by humans, according to myth?”He tried to pass it off as a casual comment rather than fishing for answers.
”Well, technically anyone can use them. The common folk in that time were highly superstitious and terrified of being influenced by something otherworldly or supernatural, so they had all manner of charms to aid them and deflect curses and magical tricks. In fact, it likely received the name ‘witch stone’ because it was a charm against witchcraft. Witches, of course, would have known about the folk charms and employed them along with their usual enchantments.” Marie responded quickly, never tiring of offering others knowledge of the craft, even if it was only over something as simple as a hag stone.
Ben noted her knowledge over the subject then commented on it, wondering if his hunch was right. His nostrils still twitched and flared, absorbing her scent. It was nearly identical to the hag stone drawing an uneasy sensation in his gut as he continues.
“You sound like you have a lot of experience with this. You wouldn't happen to be a witch, would you?” It was meant to come off as a joke as he watched her reaction closely.
Marie wasn’t too thrown off by the question. It was valid, given her apparent knowledge of the hag stone, and claiming to be a witch in the 21st century wasn’t the craziest thing one could say, nor would they suffer persecution for it.
She chuckled,
”Maybe, but it’s more likely that I’m an anthropology student.” It was a quick, simple lie, but substantial nonetheless.
Turning her head back to the exhibit casing, Marie caught a glint of something on the glass. Her focus shifted from Ben to the hag stone, then to her reflection. Marie saw herself, an ancient version of herself, staring back. Her modern dress was replaced by a medieval gown, her straight hair appearing in unkempt waves of black. She looked into her reflections eyes, one of which was her own, but the other was positioned over the hag stone, which now sported an ethereal glow.
”Holt,” Marie said aloud, not looking to see who heard.
”I think I just found it. I think I found Gwyneth’s eye.””The hag stone? I suppose that makes sense. A witch’s magic is practical. What better tool to peer through one’s enchantments than one designed for that very purpose. It must possess the power to see Gwyneth’s other possessions, that is why she calls it her eye.”Marie was overjoyed! A wave of enthusiasm spread over her, her skin began to dance with excited chills, her eyes glistened with happy tears. The rest of the group had moved to another exhibit further down, leaving Ben and Marie behind. In the moment she saw Gwyneth’s eye, she forgot he was ever there.
“Who’s Holt?” Came Ben’s question, his brown eyes stared at her suspiciously. His neck hairs raised on the back of his neck, alert and mindful about her behavior, while he took a step back in caution. Thankfully everyone else had moved or they would’ve spotted his twitches showing on his surface, his head tilted like a wolf examining something new and strange in his territory.
”Uh . . . I mean,” Marie stuttered, unsure of what to say. She had been careless. Normally, she wouldn’t speak to Holt in public and would only engage in subtle, mental messages with the familiar, but she had been taken in by the surprise of finding Gwyneth’s eye and dropped her guard. Could she make an excuse for herself? Did she care at this point? Her only reason for being there was to find the eye, which she had done. She hadn’t caused a stir, hadn’t done anything particularly damning, and even if she had, she was wearing her glamour charm so no one could tie it back to her.
“Well?” Ben asked again, his arms crossed over his front in resistance to taking any bullshit answer. There was too many questions going through his and less answers to satisfy them, a fact he wasn’t pleased about.
Marie could have spent the next few minutes trying to come up with a distraction, but by then another group would have come around making it harder for her to retrieve the stone. At this point, Marie was fine with a little exposure.
”You know what,” she finally responded,
”You were right the first time. I am a witch, and here’s a little magic to prove it. Holt,” she called to her familiar, who wore an amused grin as he quickly turned from an ethereal shade to a tangible shadow, creeping through the glass casing and lifting the hag stone from its place. He then dropped the stone into Marie’s hand and vanished once again.
Ben didn’t expect the woman to be outright blunt. His eyes flickered to something forming at her side. At first, he thought it was some strange, misshapen shadow formed by poor lighting. However when it grinned, he knew very differently as it phased and stole the hag stone. He dropped it within the witch’s hand causing Benjamin to give a feral growl. His eyes widen in fear and shock, the neck hair raised in alert and immediately the itching sensation traveled along his skin.
Something primal and wild surfaced in the back of his mind, crawled its way up, causing his mind to scream. Ben tried to quell his emotions. His heart pounding and throbbing in his chest, resulting in slight wheezing. Instantly he dropped to his knees quietly mumbling in panic.
“Shit...no, not now. Please. Calm down.. Please, stop..” Marie looked at Ben with a combination of curiosity and horror. This sort of episode was like nothing she’d ever seen before.
”Oh my god, are you alright? What’s happening?” she dropped to his side, placing a hand gently on his shoulder.
”He’s transforming,” Holt replied calmly.
”What?””I had a suspicion when I saw his nostrils flare up earlier, but this confirms it. He’s infected with lycanthropy.””Oh you’ve got to be kidding me, a werewolf?” Marie was outraged, not by the idea of werewolves, but by the sheer fact that she’d happened upon one in such a public place.
Holt gave a slight nod.
”And by the looks of it, a young one. His transformations are tied to both the lunar cycle and his emotions. My manifestation must have shocked him and triggered the transformation.”Marie wanted to panic but knew that in doing so, she’d only make matters worse.
”If you calm him down, we might be able to get him somewhere more private.”Marie had no time to question what an outrageous notion calming down an adolescent werewolf in the middle of New York City was. Instead, she held his other shoulder and peered into his eyes, calling on whatever power of compulsion she or Gwyneth might have had. In a low voice, she said,
”Everything is going to be alright. Take some deep breaths and try to remain calm. You’re in no danger, you just need to stay in control.”Ben was trembling. All over, his figure itched and tingled, his mind expecting at any moment it would peel away. Part of him was angry because he had just gotten himself clean and into something almost normal for his messed up life. When her face lowered to his kneeling position, his inner wolf recoiled in fear then shuddered when the magic entered his core. It shimmered and filled him with a calming effect, his itching slowed almost, as his lips pushed back from their snarling.
“Please.. Make it stop. I don’t want to do this again.” The words slipped out of his pleading lips, Ben’s frighten eyes softened into a glossy expression.
Without a moment’s hesitation, Marie steadied Ben as the pair darted through the exhibit past surprised patrons to the nearest restricted area. They rounded a few corners until finally they reached a storage unit. With a quick hand motion, the locked door flew open, almost off its hinges. Inside were sheet covered displays on rollers, which Holt moved from their path, creating a large clearing in the room. With another motion, Marie shut the door behind them, directing Holt to enchant it shut. She gently knelt down with Ben, setting him in the open floor space and moving away to another corner of the room to observe.
Ben tried to focus, his arms already pealing away his shirt. Along with it came a thick flesh colored patch of skin that flipped away with the movement and splattered blood on the wall. He barely kicked off his jeans when the first bone abruptly snapped. He screamed then crumbled, his flesh starting to break at the seams where his joints bended the most revealing matted, bloodied blond fur. Bones continued to crack and shift, lengthening or shortening based on desired form.
When he finished, Benjamin laid on his side on top of the skin and heaving each breath. This time, there was only a limited spot that had become filthy, the blood looked darker than the fresh color of last night. The werewolf whimpered softly like an injured pup in his position, the aches still throbbed in his very skeleton.
Help… Hurt… Emotions associated with those words echoed in Marie’s mind when the werewolf’s limited telepathy kicked in finally, his head raised to lock eyes with her.
Marie heard Ben’s please for help over her own thoughts. She empathized with him but was altogether unsure how to proceed. She had never dealt with lycanthropy before and knew almost nothing about it. Would Ben be hostile? She could protect herself, but she worried he might be difficult to hide if that were the case. How long would he remain in this form? It was easy to assume that a wolf would return to human form after the full moon, but if they had the power to change outside of the lunar cycle as well, there was no telling how long Marie would be dealing with this. There were so many unanswered questions, so much novelty that Marie was frozen while Ben lie hurting and whimpering.
Marie watched the scene with a heavy heart. It hurt her, not being able to ease his pain, but there was nothing that she could do.
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