A handful of weeks had passed since magic had mysteriously returned to the realm of Aldova. Since the sprites had become more creature than wisp. Since they’d grown into tangible beings that could converse like any other folk.
Only weeks since everything had changed.
It was inconvenient, being soft.
With a heavy exhale through my nose, I drifted to the window, pulling it most of the way shut so only the tiniest of drafts could pass through. Though Scarlett objected, I could see the way her posture relaxed to a more comfortable position, how she brightened back to her normal orange color, and how other sprites began stirring again.
Annoyingly, it pleased me. I had grown to like when my apothecary felt full of life.
Not all of the sprites were brave enough to speak out in the open.
Scarlett was—the tiny fire sprite was brave but always irritatingly polite. And there was an outspoken water sprite, too. Dropp, her name was. There was also a wind sprite namedThrum who was never afraid to voice his opinions, but he was grumpier than the others. Moodier. He sulked in a dark corner just as often as he openly glowered.
The others were slowly coming around.
Hex, too, was coming around.
My purple cauldron sludge familiar that I had accidentally brought to life was now practically glued to me at all hours of the day.
Hex, in their gelatinous form, could often be found perched on my shoulder, slumped beside my ankle, or simply watching me from the broken cauldron they had claimed as their own. I still wasn’t sure what to expect from my new familiar. Old legends spoke of familiars as powerful creatures that strengthened and stabilized their witch. That were steadfast and strong, brimming with magic.
Mostly, mine just annoyed me. And stole my snacks whenever they thought I wasn’t looking. They had helped me on Hallow’s Eve, sure, but they hadn’t done much else.
They still made me shiver. Especially when I caught an unexpected glimpse of them from the corner of my eye.
Thinking about Hex prompted me to glance over my shoulder to the broken cauldron in the corner.
They looked… strange. Stiff. Tense.
“Hex?” I called out. “You alright, buddy?”
Hex didn’t respond, and they didn’t give a telltale gurgle or bubble pop either. That couldn’t be good.
I heaved out a sigh. “Hang on. I’m coming.”
One thing I had learned about Hex was that they were impressively temperamental. If something unpleasant became stuck to them, they would freeze up like a stone until I came and removed the offending object. It had first happened with a loose strand of my hair. And then later with a small dirty pebble. I wondered what had caused them to freeze up this time.
They could engulf just about anything to sustain themself but when it came to small nuisances… I didn’t understand how they worked but I knew thatnothelping would only get me spat on. Or worse.
I drifted to the washbasin to quickly rinse the crystal dust from my hands, dabbed them dry on a towel, and then made my way to the cauldron.
“Alright, Hex. Let’s see what’s bothering you.”
My feet tapped quietly across the wooden floor of the apothecary, joining the muted hush of the sprites conversing with each other and the whisper of wind whirling through the crack in the window.
I was still adjusting to the sound of their voices. It was jarring compared to the silence I had grown accustomed to during the years of them inhabiting my shop.
I grasped the edge of the giant broken cauldron and leaned in to get a good look. Hex was their usual bright, glossy purple color, but instead of being soft and malleable, they were rigid. Like crystal instead of slime.
And they were curled around the three dragon eggs.
Red, blue, and green, the large, scaled eggs were nestled comfortably in the bottom of the cauldron, as they usually were when I wasn’t actively trying to crack them open.
Hex was curled around them, even more protective than usual. It would be endearing if it didn’t set the hairs on my arms to standing.
Something about the situation put me on edge.
I reached in and tapped Hex gently, where they met the edge of the cauldron. “Hey, Hex. Are you good? What’s the issue here?” My fingernail clicked on their surface instead of sinking in.
