A Witch From Another World

"And that's another All Stone idiom you need to get rid of. No one here says 'blastingly' that I've ever heard."

"A pity. It's such fun to say. I'll need a moment to study this -- why don't you do some more block-cast drills while I read? Try remember how it felt when you succeeded a moment ago, and see if you can recreate it at will. Don't fret if it doesn't happen right away."

Victor frowned. "I'd like to try this healing magic myself, see if I'm any good at it."

"You'll do as I say, young man. First, you need to keep at the barrier spell while the feeling of a successful speed-cast is still fresh. Put this off until later and you might lose this progress. Secondly, this spell I'm studying is more complex than basic healing that one might use when they nick themselves while cutting carrots. I promise we'll review basic healing for you soon, but right now is not the time. Now stand up and get back to it."

He stood and bowed with a chuckle. "I hear and obey, oh mighty Dread-Witch of the Emerald Forest."

Natashka responded only with a glare and a raised middle finger.

While Victor busied himself with blocking and casting drills, Natashka flipped through the projected grimoire image, carefully studying the sigils and descriptive text. She reached out with her good hand and carefully traced the shape of an analgesic spell-sigil... and immediately exhaled in relief when it worked perfectly, the sharp ache of her broken arm disappearing completely instead of just being partly dulled by the iced gel-pack. She gingerly removed the pack and set it aside on the table. "Well that's good news."

Kai's ghostly visage smiled. "Indeed, Mistress Veltris. Every journey must start with a single step, and the fact that you are now able to cast a basic medical spell that had eluded you before is a good sign that you are capable of more. Shall we proceed with attempting to mend your fracture?"

"Quite. While we're at it, let's see if we can restore the two teeth Miss Victoria lost when she was attacked, that gap has been quite distracting. Perhaps regrow my hair to a nice length as well."

Another half hour later, Victor came back over, eyebrows raised in surprise at the sudden restoration of his sister's full head of thick and dark wavy hair. "Huh. Wasn't expecting that. Anyway, I think I've got the hang of it. You were right to have me keep practicing, thank you. How's the arm?"

Natashka lifted the limb proudly. "Got it on the first go, and I'm right proud of that. Healed better than new, the bone is now just a little stronger for having been broken. Fixed my teeth as well." She grinned wide to show her restored smile, and gestured to the chair in front of him. "So now that I've dealt with that, let's see about teaching you some basic healing spells. We'll start with this painkiller sigil I was just using."

***

The rest of the summer was relatively uneventful. Caroline and Magnus eventually returned from their overseas cruise, and the twin siblings threw themselves headlong into packing their belongings for the move into the dorms. Finally the official move-in date in late August arrived, and the family car (with attached trailer) was filled to the brim with boxes of Victor's belongings retrieved from Uncle Gerry's house a couple neighborhoods away, and with Natasha's comparatively sparse luggage. Caroline nearly worked herself up into hysterics again as she kissed and hugged her two children over and over as if she'd never see them again, but was eventually guided back inside so that Magnus could start the hours-long roadtrip in peace.

Ellwood College was a quiet little place, a campus of about two thousand students nestled inside a modest midwestern town. The ample trees hadn't yet shifted to their autumn colors, there seemed to be squirrels everywhere you looked outside, and the brick-walled dormitories were a beehive of activity, all the new students moving in all at once.

As Victor and Natashka carried one particularly large box upstairs to the third floor of Hudson Hall, their assigned dormitory, Victor grunted and grumbled, his voice echoing in the momentarily-empty stairwell. "We could probably make this lighter with a little casting, you know."

The Dread-Witch snorted with amusement, looking over her shoulder and walking backwards as they reached the top of the stairs. "A little exercise never hurt anyone, Victor. Besides, it wouldn't do to have our luggage glowing like a firefly. People would talk." She looked around. "Turn right -- no, my right. I'm in 307, which is to the left of me, you're in 322 on the other side of the building, and this box is yours."

When they reached 322, the door was already open. Inside was a rather tall and handsome man with short blonde hair and large eyes of an unusual grey color standing inside and unpacking a plastic crate sitting on one of the beds. "Hey, welcome! Hold on, let me get out of your way." As the siblings set their large burden down on the other bed, the stranger stepped forward and extended a hand to Victor. "Shadrach Uriel Nelson, pleased to meet -- Whoa!" He had apparently gotten his own legs tangled together and toppled forward, but both siblings rushed forward to catch him. "Thank you, so sorry! Not a great way to make a first impression."

Victor laughed. "Dude, it's cool." He took the young man's hand. "Victor Blackstone, and this is my twin sister Natasha."

Natasha reached out as well. "I'm enrolled as well and living down the hall, so you'll probably be seeing a lot of me."

Shadrach's eyes went wide, quickly looking over the young woman in front of him. "That's very good news!" He paused. "Wait. Was that weird. That came out weird. I'm sorry, I'm such a klutz, in more ways that one. Thanks for the assist back there."

She flashed him a warm smile. "No offense taken, Shadrach. Nice to meet you."

A few minutes later, Victor and Natasha were each carrying a pair of smaller boxes to Natasha's room. "Is it just me," Victor asked as they reached the third floor again, "Or did you pack ridiculously light? Seems like most of the boxes in the trailer are mine."

"You're not wrong, these four are everything I packed." She looked around, carefully navigating around another family that nearly filled the hallway. "College is about personal reinvention, yes? I thought this would be a good time to shed who I used to be as a teen and collect new clothes and belongings as I grow into myself, so to speak." She set her boxes down by her door and reached into her pocket to try and find her new key. "Be careful with that top box you're holding, there's some delicate scented candles in there."

"Hey, more neighbors!" Natashka looked up, and there was a young woman with black hair waving at her. "I'm Roger O'Malley. Hey Ishmael, come out here!"

A taller man with long and bright red hair peeked out and waved as well. "Hey, how's it going?"

As Natashka introduced herself as "Natasha" and introduced her brother in turn, she turned her thoughts inward for a moment. "Kai, correct me if I'm wrong, but the name 'Roger' is typically associated with men in America, yes?"

"According to my web search just now, you are correct, Mistress."

A quick and simple bio-scan spell confirmed her guess -- Roger was biologically female, but their dress and manner seemed to present as male. "Rather like Polly back at All Stone," she noted silently to Kai. "She was named 'Paulus' at birth, but always knew she was actually a woman, regardless of biology. Kai, please make a note: I should always refer to Roger by 'he' and 'him' unless he tells me otherwise."

"So noted, mistress."

"Whose shit is this?! Move it out of my way right now!"

Natashka turned at this new voice, and saw that her room's door had opened to reveal a tall and scowling woman with light brown hair that reached past her hips, pointing down at the boxes Natashka had been carrying. "Are you deaf? Move that immediately!"

The dread-witch raised an eyebrow -- her stacked boxes wasn't in any way blocking the door. "Just walk around it, it's not even in the doorway."

"It's the principle of the thing! Now move it right now!"

Natashka turned to look at her brother and her new neighbors, eyebrow still raised, and reached out with her foot to scoot the box one more inch away from the empty door frame. "My apologies, I think we're getting off on the wrong foot. I'm your roommate, Natasha Blackstone --"

"Jen Harper, but I don't really care who you are." Jen stepped out and posed dramatically with one hand over her heart. "You're not going to see me around here much, because my sweetheart boyfriend Julian -- he's a Junior and star of the drama department I'll have you know -- lives in off-campus housing, and I'm going to be with him always, and not have to live in a hovel with the rest of you. So make way because I don't have the time or patience to deal with your pedestrian chaos." Before anyone could respond, she leaned in and put herself nose-to-nose with Natasha. "Get out of my way, you deaf bitch! Move!"

Natashka could hear Victor's worried intake of breath behind her, but she never looked away from the woman who was right in her face. "Walk around. There's ample room."

"Did you not hear me the first time, retard? It's the principle of the thing! Now I said move it!" Jen put a hand on Natasha's shoulder and shoved, but the dread-witch didn't move an inch.

Natashka gently lifted Jen's wrist and removed that hand from her shoulder, never blinking as her gaze drilled into her new roommate's eyes. "Put hands on me again, you braying child, and I will break every finger you have and rip out your tongue to feed to the rats. Run along right now before you learn how truly out of your depth you really are."

Off to one side, she could hear Roger chuckling. "Oh, I think I like this one."

Jen stepped back, startled, and quickly scurried around and out into the larger hallway, pulling a phone out of her pocket. "You all heard that! She threatened me! I'll call 911 and have you arrested, you creepy witch! You're all my witnesses!"

No one else in the hallway seemed to care. A few looked up, narrowed their brows in annoyance, and went back to whatever they were doing in and outside their own rooms.

Victor cleared his throat. "Jen, if you call the police, what I saw was you committing unprovoked assault on my sister." Roger, Ishmael, and several others nearby in the hallway all nodded. "So yeah, make the call. Please."

Jen leveled a finger at Victor's nose. "Shut it, fuckboi! I'm going to the Dorm Supervisor's office right now and having you all expelled! And if any of you touch any of my things, I'll have my Julian hunt you down and... and beat your ass!" When no one responded in any way, she turned on her heel. "And I've got the last word! So there!" she shoved her way through the stairwell door, and could be heard stomping as loud as possible on her way down.

There was a moment's paused, and everyone in the hall burst out laughing. Ishmael made a show of brushing some dirt off his shoulder. "So that just happened."

Victor reached out and gave Ishmael a fist-bump. "I swear, it was like some 'Karen' story from the internet come to life. I didn't think people like that really existed."

Roger looked over towards the stairwell, shaking their head in amazement. "You have to wonder what sort of life experiences someone has to go through to turn out like that. Wow. I just hope I don't have any classes with her."

A voluptuous latina with thick hair and wearing a skin-tight rainbow-colored spandex bodysuit walked up and waved. "Don't worry about Brandi -- that's the Dorm Supervisor's name by the way. 'Princess Jen' there spat at Brandi's feet this morning and called her a 'peasant', so I doubt Brandi's inclined to help Jen give you any trouble." She gave Victor an unsubtle once-over. "Hey. I'm Michelle. I'm right across the hall here, 309."

Victor gave her a warm smile in return. "Victor Blackstone, down the hall in 322 -- unless we all want to defer to Her Majesty's wishes and rechristen me 'Fuckboi'."

Michelle laughed at that, tracing one manicured nail lightly across the inside of his wrist as she shook his outstretched hand. "Only if you let me preside over the naming ceremony." She blushed and put one hand over her mouth. "I can't believe I just said that. Look, I have to get back to all this," she said, gesturing behind her to her own room, "but um -- I'm over here, okay?"

As Michelle walked away with a sway in her hips, Roger turned to Natasha. "Wow, it's like the rest of us weren't even here in her eyes. I bet that happens everywhere you two go."

"Indeed," she said as she gently elbowed her brother's ribs. "I can't take 'fuckboi' anywhere without him drowning in hastily scribbled phone numbers."

Victor groaned. "Oh god, it's catching on." He turned back to Ishmael and Roger. "You two are not calling me that."

The redheaded young man gave an innocent smile. "Moi? I would never do such an uncouth thing. Now... what was your actual name again?"

Victor slapped his forehead in exasperation, but the quartet all had a good laugh as Natshka patted her sibling's shoulder. "Alright, alright. Dear brother, help me get these boxes in. I may not have much, but I do still need to unpack, and dad is probably wondering what's taking us so long." The neighbors took their polite cue to return to their own room, and Natashka stepped into the room she was going to be sharing with Jen.

"And the party keeps on rolling." Victor whistled. "Does that girl have a single polite bone in her body?" Jen's belongings were strewn everywhere in the room, all over both beds, both dressers, both desks, and over almost every square inch of the floor.

Setting down her boxes with a frustrated groan, Natashka closed the door after Victor entered, her eyes glowing bright. "My patience is officially at an end with this girl. Kai?"

The glowing face appeared. "Yes, mistress?"

"Start a file on Jen Harper. You have her face, start searching the college's data banks and other online resources for more information on her and her beloved Julian. I'll wager good money that there's some dirty laundry out there that we can exploit." She gestured, and the boxes and strewn clothes on half the room rose into the air and floated over to the other side, settling into a large pile on the other bed. "You'll both note for the record that I have not actually touched any of Miss Harper's items, should she make a fuss."

"Working on that for you now, Mistress."

Victor set down the boxes he'd been carrying on the now-empty bed on the left. "Wait, Kai can access the internet?"

"Indeed I can, sir. I have yet to encounter a system I could not gain access to."

Victor made a show of wiping sweat from his brow. "Okay, that's terrifying. Natashka, do you have any idea how powerful that makes you?"

"Quite aware, and it's a sensation I'm all too familiar with." She grinned. "What do you think of Michelle and our other neighbors?"

He smiled. "I feel the need to track down whomever invented spandex and thank them from the bottom of my heart. Dear god, she's hot."

Natashka started sifting through one of the boxes. "And here I thought I was generously endowed by this world's standards. My dear old friend Malice would've been grinding her teeth with envy if she were here to witness today's events. I expect you'll be busy plundering Michelle's depths in record time." She paused in thought. "Your roommate Shadrach seems nice enough. A little clumsy in all respects, but I confess I found that endearing rather than annoying. Not certain as to why."

"'Plundering her depths'. Seriously." He poked her shoulder. "Maternal instincts, perhaps?" This drew a derisive snort from the witch.

"Certainly not. I never married, back on All Stone, much less bore any children." She gestured, and the clothes she packed floated into the air, shook themselves out, and then folded themselves again before floating into her open dresser's drawers. "Never had time. Ever since I was little, there was always some new crisis, some new plague, some new adventure... and then finally after many decades and many such tales, I found myself dealing with the Abomination of Flame and the last battle that led me here."

Victor sat down on a desk chair. "Any regrets?"

"It's immaterial. I always did what needed to be done. If I didn't do it, no one else would, and countless people would have died horrible deaths. My leisurely enjoyment was secondary. And now I expect I'll be too busy with academic pursuits to engage in... whimsical plundering."

Her brother cocked his head to one side, watching her. "You're not responsible for the entire world, Dread-Witch."

She whirled on him, eyes glowing with a rainbow swirl of mystic light. "I regret to inform you that you are rather incorrect and have no idea what you're talking about, dear brother." She grit her teeth, carefully restraining herself from raising her voice, her words tight and clipped. "The survival of All Stone and all who lived upon it was precisely my responsibility. Only I had even a sliver of a chance to defeat that seven-times-damned Abomination of Flame, and then only after many friends and comrades, dear ones, died screaming to give me the opening I needed. And even then, I nearly failed. But my foe was careless at precisely the wrong moment, thinking me vanquished, and we shredded each other to ribbons of charred flesh in that last battle. I died, but my world surivived me -- but only because of me. Everyone else who tried had already failed. I was my world's last hope, and it cost me everything. Everything!"

The phone in Victor's hand chimed, and he lifted it to his ear, his eyes never leaving his sister. "Hey Dad. Sorry, we'll be back in a minute. Had to deal with Natasha's new harpy of a roommate. Be there in five." He disconnected and held open his hands after pocketing his phone. "You told me yourself, Dread-Witch, that the Lord of All Stone sent you here so that you could have a second chance, to actually live a real life. Don't forget that." He stood up, and tapped Natashka Veltris on the tip of her nose. "As far as I see it, my job is to make sure you actually get to have a life this time around, and keep you grounded. So let's get out there, finish all this unpacking, send dad back on his merry way home, and go find someone cute for you to kiss." He raised his eyebrows. "You, ah... you have kissed someone before, right?"

She rolled her eyes as they lost their glow. "I've had my 'depths plundered' before, if that's what you're trying to get at. I may have been unwed, but I'm not some blushing maiden who's never known an intimate touch."

"None of them ever worked out?"

She paused at the door, looking back at her brother. "My childhood sweetheart Luco died of a plague when we were nineteen. My efforts to perfect spells that could create anti-viral agents came too late for him. On my thirtieth birthday, Lord Silveron died shielding me from his mad father, the self-crowned 'God-Emperor' of Septrellisa. A little over ten years after that, it took Halakar Goldthorn about a year after we started sleeping together for him to resent that my strength eclipsed his, and that I did not simper and defer to him as his distorted pride demanded." She closed her eyes and exhaled, resting her head against the dormitory door. "He forced me into a duel. If I refused, he would have murdered our friends that he'd drugged and captured. I could find no other solution but to accept his duel -- and fifteen heartbeats later, he was dead by my hand, and my friends rescued shortly after." She looked up at the ceiling. "I stopped looking after that."