(originally posted 11/23/11, edited 12/1/12, re-posted now)
She stared at the words on the parchments and in the tomes for hours until the ink blurred and the words seem to slide off the page. Maggy slammed the book shut and laid her forehead on it. The cool leather felt good against her head, and she rather liked the musty, sweet smell of the pages. Hours of studying until her eyes ached and for what? She was useless when it came to magery, better to call it quits and become a baker.
No, not a baker. She pressed her eyes shut and remembered trying her hand at that....
She had been baking a cake for Peter's birthday and when she saw that it wouldn't be finished it time she had "magicked" the rest of it. Aside from looking a little lopsided, and tasting vaguely like lemon she finally thought she'd succeeded at something. Until they ate it.
She groaned and slowly thumped her head against the table as she recalled the whole, horrid scene. Peter made for a much prettier girl than she would have thought, and as far as boys went, she decided that she hadn't looked half bad either... but it was still bad policy to turn your friend into a girl on his birthday. Thankfully the enhchantment had worn off.
Maggy turned her head sideways on the desk. The books on the necromantic arts lay in the corner under a heap of clothes. She could feel some sort of strange energy emanating from them, like a dull heartbeat at times. She sighed and stood up, scooped the books into her arms and carried them back to the warded chest her teacher had given her. If discovered, she would be in a whole heap of trouble along with the professor. She dropped them into the chest and closed the lid.
Necromancy. That had gone about as well as any other magery-related class she had taken at the Lycaeum. Professor Von Cross had insisted that she try her hand at this too, though of course, in secret. Maggy liked him, a lot. And though he drove her nearly to madness and to the point of exhaustion, somehow she pushed herself to find the time to practice and study with him.
She turned, looking out the small window of her room behind the Lycaeum. It was a grey, overcast, cold and drizzly day. I wish there were more light in here she thought and immediately every candle in the room blazed up like a torch. She jumped. "And then there's that," she said aloud turning back to her books.
She stared at the words on the parchments and in the tomes for hours until the ink blurred and the words seem to slide off the page. Maggy slammed the book shut and laid her forehead on it. The cool leather felt good against her head, and she rather liked the musty, sweet smell of the pages. Hours of studying until her eyes ached and for what? She was useless when it came to magery, better to call it quits and become a baker.
No, not a baker. She pressed her eyes shut and remembered trying her hand at that....
She had been baking a cake for Peter's birthday and when she saw that it wouldn't be finished it time she had "magicked" the rest of it. Aside from looking a little lopsided, and tasting vaguely like lemon she finally thought she'd succeeded at something. Until they ate it.
She groaned and slowly thumped her head against the table as she recalled the whole, horrid scene. Peter made for a much prettier girl than she would have thought, and as far as boys went, she decided that she hadn't looked half bad either... but it was still bad policy to turn your friend into a girl on his birthday. Thankfully the enhchantment had worn off.
Maggy turned her head sideways on the desk. The books on the necromantic arts lay in the corner under a heap of clothes. She could feel some sort of strange energy emanating from them, like a dull heartbeat at times. She sighed and stood up, scooped the books into her arms and carried them back to the warded chest her teacher had given her. If discovered, she would be in a whole heap of trouble along with the professor. She dropped them into the chest and closed the lid.
Necromancy. That had gone about as well as any other magery-related class she had taken at the Lycaeum. Professor Von Cross had insisted that she try her hand at this too, though of course, in secret. Maggy liked him, a lot. And though he drove her nearly to madness and to the point of exhaustion, somehow she pushed herself to find the time to practice and study with him.
She turned, looking out the small window of her room behind the Lycaeum. It was a grey, overcast, cold and drizzly day. I wish there were more light in here she thought and immediately every candle in the room blazed up like a torch. She jumped. "And then there's that," she said aloud turning back to her books.
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