Prequel

chapter one

Nothing ever lasts forever.

My parents and sister taught me that when they died in a protest two years ago. It was supposed to be peaceful, but the government had other ideas. They were merely fighting for something to be done about climate change. The next thing I knew, I was being whisked off to live with the only person who actually wanted to take in a random, orphaned 11 year old. Our options were slim- most people in our village had lots of kids and small cottages.

So I went to live with Autumn Woods, a 55 year old woman who was one of the most powerful witches in village history. Autumn wasn’t just powerful; she was respected. When she spoke, the village would go silent to listen to her words. She could have been an Elder, but instead chose solitary life.

Until I came along.

She saw promise, opportunity in me, in my magic.

Magic.

Authority.

It’s all the same around here. More is more. Less is less. As simple as that.

I sighed and stared at the dusty rocks beneath my feet. The ground was so dry that dust clouds followed my every step and the heels of my boots sank in the sand-like dirt.

One half-hearted step after the other.

That’s all I had to do to make it through the day. At least, that was my plan. But Orchid doesn’t really like plans. Or to be more specific, my plans.

“Hear me out,” she said, bounding up beside me and not bothering with a greeting. “Birds.”

She said the word as if those five letters spelled out the answer to world hunger.

“Birds?” I repeated skeptically.

“Birds.” She confirmed.

I glanced over at Orchid as she matched my pace. Her amber hair was twisted in soft curls down her shoulders and her ice blue eyes glistened in the sunlight. Her mind was like a factory. Always at work creating new ideas. Most of those ideas get us into trouble, but her sweet smile and buttery words always sneak past the most angry witches guard. Still, I rather not talk about what my reputation has become after hanging out with her.

“Okay, so what if-“ Orchid started explaining, “we walk birds?”

“Birds fly.” I informed her cautiously, shifting the basket of lush greens I’ve been holding to my other side.

“Yeah, but we can make these little harnesses, and then hook them up, and we stand there while they fly around! We could get payed for standing there!”

“I don’t think that’s how it works. Is that how it works?” I asked my friend Angela who snuck up on my other side. From being friends with her since I was five, I’ve managed to detect her stalky presence. Despite having an extra bounce to her step and her uneraseable smile, she always managed to sneak up on people. Which is perfect for some of Orchids ideas.

“I don’t think people are going to fall for a ‘Pay Us To Walk Your Bird!’ sign.” Angela contributed.

We were silent for a minute. You could practically hear the gears in Orchids brain turning.

“Can’t we just walk regular cats and dogs for money?” I asked, trying my best not to pour my bad mood into my words, but that didn’t stop a little from spilling out.

“That’s too basic. Everyone does that.” Orchid said.

“Maybe so many people do it because it works.”

Orchid didn’t seem to mind my bad mood and went on chattering to Clara while I sped up to approach a small cottage at the end of the road. Small, thatched roof, wooden planks criss-crossed over the door and tiny plants somehow growing in the cracks of rock. It looked exactly like my old home. Yet it felt so different.

“What about washing pelicans?”

“What’s a pelican?”

“You don’t know what a pelican is?”

I pushed open the door of the cottage with the palm of my hand and tried to block out the conversation. Autumn was sure in for a surprise. Sometimes I wondered why I was friends with two noisy teenagers. It was a back and forth battle between annoyance and appreciation.

‘Everything good has a cost.’

At least, that was what Autumn would always tell me in our lengthy study sessions. Of course, I haven’t found anything good about studying pigeons for over an hour. My parents never made me do that.

Autumn was bustling around the kitchen. Despite her old age, she always managed to get out of her plush rocking-chair for The Retreat. ‘The day where everyone comes back.’ is what it’s advertised as.

That’s a lie.

I poured the stalky greens on a cutting board. Autumn always made a huge celebration of today.

Soup for all.

Everyone gathering in the plaza.

So many happy faces of returned loved ones.

And then there’s the one crying under a bench because everything was ruined. Gone.

I grabbed a knife and started dicing the greens as Autumn welcomed my friends with open arms. Everyone was in a good mood today. Everyone loves a good celebration.

Autumns cottage was always a lot smaller than the regular home. The kitchen took up half of the space and there were only two bedrooms. Mine and hers. Wooden floors and plants all around. Candles. Every cabinet you open has little trinkets in it. Autumn doesn’t like storing harvested food, she only cooks with goods straight from the gardens. That means winter isn’t very pleasant. Good thing I don’t hold her same reservations.

“Make sure you cut them smaller than a dime, May.” She reminded me as she set ice-cold glasses of water on the table for my friends, who were still going on and on about business ideas. I poured the vegetables into the large, black cauldron without checking twice. Autumn clicked her tongue in disapproval before turning her back on me.

I know, I know, it’s a big honor that Autumn Woods took me in after my whole family died. I am grateful, but I also feel as though she had standards I will never live up to.

Maybe once I recover from my grief I’ll really start looking up to her.

Angela looked back over her shoulder at me. “I think it’ll turn out great, Ms. Woods.”

Autumn grunted.

Angela smiled at me. She often took pride in defending, well, everyone. Even when she knows she might get in trouble. She flipped her long, blonde hair and turned back to Orchid. Everyone in our village were named after seasons, plants, flowers, and months, mostly depending on status. Angela was just named Angela, and she was the only Angela in the whole village. There were multiple of pretty much everyone else.

I continued to work on the stew, Autumn occasionally chiming in unhelpful comments and sometimes helping me, but mostly she talked to my friends or read a book while listening to them chat.

Finally the stew was done and we were on our way down the dirt path. I tried to laugh, but I was nervous for what was about to come.

The Retreat happened every year on the same day, September 3rd. After a feast and a ‘few words’ from the Elders, a group of witches and occasionally wizards brought back these false images of the people we lost in the past five years using spells and memories from people they were close with. I didn’t entirely understand it, but basically it was the whole town celebrating life. If you didn’t attend, you weren’t punished or anything, but it was considered something to be ashamed of. Even all the people doing environmental protection protests and stuff in the world outside our village came back home to celebrate and honor the dead.

Also, August Howard, the baker, always brought this magic ice cream that even Autumn would eat, and that is not something you wanted to miss.

It was supposed to be this grand celebration with happiness or whatever, but in my eyes it was a grey area. And this time, they would have to take my memories of my family. They would give them back, it was just a little loan, but I didn’t want my memories to be gone at all. My friends would have to explain it to me or I wouldn’t understand that they were my parents and sister at all.

When we entered the Plaza, several people greeted Autumn with bows. September Martinez frowned at me. I knew her from school, and she had always looked up to Autumn, so I guessed she was jealous.

Jealous of me.

Hm.

The giant oak tree in the middle of the Plaza was covered with string lights. There was a table to the left with a sign that read ‘MEMORY DONORS DONATE HERE’ with a smiley face.

Autumn pointed vaguely at the table. “You better go over there.”

I took a deep breath and Orchid squeezed my shoulder. Angela went off to get us some emotional support ice cream.

I watched as a few stray people walked to the memory table. They had to sign a few forms, it looked like, and then they would be tapped on the forehead and you could quite literally see the memories being pulled out of their brains. Not brain pieces, more like paper drawings that moved. It looked freaky until you assured yourself it was harmless, plus they would get the memories back.

Yeah… it was still freaky.

I inched over to the line while my friends bounced towards where August was selling his ice cream. Maybe I could fake it. Maybe I could pretend I gave them my memories.

I’ve managed to ditch the last couple of years, making up an excuse and blaming missing the ceremony on ‘bad timing.’ Always missing due to ‘bathroom breaks’ and such.

I tried to stay casual in the flimsy line, balancing carefully on the tightrope between in line and out.

I could tell Autumn that the line was too long this year, or maybe—

“May! Are you excited?” A voice said from behind me. I nearly jumped out of my skin. Angela never snuck up on me like that before.

“Yeah. Excited.” I moved my hand which was plastered to my thumping heart and tried to regain my casual composure. I was sure that the moment of surprise released all my fears like fireworks. Bright and displayed.

“What about we do something like August? Like baking something?” Orchid said, handing me a bowl of ice cream and not seeming to pick up my note of panic. I took a tentative taste. Something about the rich taste made me want to throw up. Or maybe it was the fact that I was now permanently stuck in line. I needed an excuse.

Fast.

I wasn’t sure how much longer my heart could ride this roller-coaster for.

“Oh! Or we could do a bake-sale!” Angela shot back, her blonde hair bouncing like a trampoline.

“Yes!”

The line moved up. My palms were getting sweaty. I looked around the plaza as more and more people started filing in and emerging from their homes. How I wish I could just dig a hole and bury myself and my memories along with me.

What if they mess up? What if an earthquake strikes and I loose my memories forever?

I twisted my clammy fingers and didn’t dare look anyone in the eye. I could almost feel Autumns stern gaze settle on me like lasers as we got closer and closer to the booth. The yellow smile on the side seemed to taunt me and my eyes narrowed.

“May! How nice of you to come!” Ginger said from a stool at the other side of the booth. He was an Elder and his words always slurred together. His hair was… well, ginger, and his gaze always seemed fixed on something imaginary in the distance. His cloudy eyes widened and almost went clear as he focused on me. “Sign.” He instructed. Orchid squeezed my shoulder as I leaned down in what seemed like slow-motion and grabbed a the singular blue pen.

Sign… sign my name, right? What’s my name?

May.

May Brooks.

Right?

I squiggled a couple lines on the paper, hoping it would be enough and capped the lid.

I couldn’t believe I was doing this.

I squeezed my eyes shut as Ginger reached towards me. His fingers double tapped my forehead, and suddenly, everything felt lighter. My posture straightened, my mind felt clearer. That hollow sensation that was always lingering in my chest disappeared.

Suddenly, everything had a new light. I suddenly wanted to go to Autumn and have a taste of her stew, and maybe convince August to give me another serving of his ice cream which had melted in my bowl.

“Enjoy the feast.” Ginger said, tucking the memory away with the others like eggs in a carton. The magic comes later.

I grabbed my friends hands and pulled them away from the booth, my eyes wide and suddenly seeing so many opportunities.

“Woah!” Orchid said, a smile blossoming on her face from my new-found energy.

We dashed around the plaza together like children until a long table seemed to be woven together by particles from the air. A large bell rang from one of the elders, welcoming everyone to take a seat. Orchid, Angela, and I snatched chairs next to each other. I had to fidget to keep myself from bouncing out of my chair while everyone gathered around.

Autumn shuffled over to the other end of the table and sat, facing the group of elders. Due to her accomplishments, it was only right that the end of the table was reserved for her.

“Welcome to the feast!” She bellowed. Her arms spread wide and her eyes crinkled. The table gave their set of applause before facing the Elders for their annual speech.

“We are delighted to host this event for you witches and wizards!” Miss Esme said. She was often the spokes-person for the elders with her sharp posture and loud authority.

The Elders gazed at everyone like proud parents.

There were about thirty Elders, but I won't bother naming them all. I could mostly distinguish the ones my family liked or disliked. Autumn mostly don't complain about any, but once or twice I saw her expressions as Elder Willow spoke. There was also a Willow at my school, nice enough girl.

My fingers drummed. Miss Esme paused for dramatic effect and you could hear my nails against the smooth wood table. I guess most people had impeccable hearing, because everyone near me stared. I didn't mind, but Angela noticed and grabbed my hand, holding it still under the table. Perhaps Miss Esme heard too, because she continued once my friend had silenced me.

I felt so light, so happy, and I wanted to do something. I wasn't hungry, anyway. I knew what would happen at the feast. We would eat, and while we ate, there would be grand images in the sky to honor the recently deceased. Oh, maybe it would be disrespectful if I left. I glanced at Angela. She smiled at me.

Eventually the feast started. Angela and Orchid told me about my family, and I watched as they appeared in the sky. Orchid started to cry and hugged me tightly. Angela folded her hands together and put them into her lap, a grim look coming over her face.

I tried to remember them. I would remember them in a few minutes. I glanced at my lap and held Orchid closer.

A few seconds passed, and then it started raining. The weather wizard had said it was supposed to be a sunny day. Strange.

Screams.

I glance up and let go of Orchid. The river that ran behind the village was reaching up and quite literally grabbing the memories. They flooded back into the river. I jumped up, alarmed. Autumn and the Elders were vigorously trying to silence everyone and sit us back down, but Orchid hopped up and started sprinting for the river. Angela grabbed my wrist and pulled me along as she followed our friend.

The river was only so far into the forest. It was right behind Autumns house, at the tip of the village.

We followed several Elders, who were moving faster than I would’ve expected with their bony knees and thin arms. I heard the rushing of water that lulled me to sleep every night as we broke through the forest to see… everything normal. A regular current, waves of water curving around big rocks with sun-baked tops. I perched on the edge of the water, careful not to let the pushing crowd of witches and wizards knock me in. I could feels it’s chill from my distance, but everything seemed normal.

Except there were fish floating to the surface, their bodies limp and eyes lifeless. I squinted my eyes and saw palm sized orbs lining the bottom of the river. Their glow faded from the constantly exercising water. The elders helped Miss Esme onto a rock and she sank to her knees, reaching down to grab a nearby orb.

Blinding shock.

A deafening scream.

The crystal like water shredding like a protective hand.

Shouts of help as the high-pitched scream echoed throughout the forest. Me and my friends stood in shock.

“Angela!” A voice demanded, Orchid grabbed my statue of a friend and turned her towards the voice. Mrs. Foster with her golden ringlets and upturned nose pointed back to the village. “Quickly, girls! Any potions you can!”

Angela and Orchid snapped into action, dashing back towards the rows of cottages and confused bystanders, but I stood, a useless soul among the mighty.

What sounded like a bawling baby made me want to remove my ears and dive far into the water.

“Back away from the river!” A wizard said, grabbing me by the waist and pulling me back. My back slammed against a tree as the figure rushed towards the crowd of Elders, huddled on the shore over a limp, shaking green robe.

My chest heaved and my fingers dug into the bark. I watched the scene unfold like a horror movie. My friends dashed forwards, their arms spilling with potions and and herbs they could get their hands on. The circle of Elders consumed the bottles and soon enough, the first was silent. So silent my ears started aching for sound. I took a deep breath.

And another.

And another.

And another as each form slowly backed away from what once was Miss Esme.

A book leather-covered sat on the soft grass. The light wind blew it open, page by yellow-stained page until it finally settled on one in the middle. A piece of detailed artwork sat on the right page.

The artwork was a perfect drawing of Miss Esme.

And the real Miss Esme wasn’t under the robe.

Elder Willow snatched up the book and clutched it to her chest, tucking it under her robe and away from sight.

I felt a hand wrap around my wrist and tug firmly. It’s Orchid. She yanks me off the tree and pulls me along by my wrist. Behind the crowd, Angela is there with her mom, and Orchid doesn’t miss a beat, grabbing onto Angela’s wrist and tugging us both along.

We’re all breathing heavily by the time Orchid turns a corner and climbs up a tree. It has thick branches that she clings to. She sits on one halfway up the tree and gestures for us to join her. I follow, gritting my teeth as the bark scrapes my hands. Angela wasn’t as athletic as we were, so Orchid clutches the branch, I clutch Orchid, and we yank our friend up.

“I’m scared,” Orchid whispered once we’ve all settled in. I’m not sure where Mrs. Foster went. Orchid hugs me and Angela clutches my leg.

“Me too,” Angela agrees.

“I think Miss Esme is… gone.”