It’s the end of June, which means, in some places–like where I work–it’s the end of the fiscal year. That means everything starts anew tomorrow, 1 July, and we get to go another year–or is it six months? It’s hard to say, particularly when, like me, you gotta keep track of two different calendars if you wanna stay on your toes.
It’s going to be an interesting day for me today. Probably not long after this post goes up, I’ll have more views on this blog during the first six months of the year than I had all last year. This isn’t a big blog like some that one of my friends has, where getting a few thousand hits a day is pretty much the norm. But she’s in a different business, and she pulls in a far different crowd. I don’t know what I’d do with that sort of power. I’d probably need an island somewhere to plot my take over of the world.
But I don’t have an island, so I had to settle for going out to Panera and getting a sandwich and soup, and a couple of drinks, and since I had my trusty computer with me, I decided I better start on Chapter Sixteen. With the place pretty much empty I started typing along, throwing words together, and before you know it, I had a little over eight hundred words completed.
In the story there is an actual lab at The Witch House, and The Mistress of All Things Dark was giving the students a small lecture . . .
(All excerpts, this page, from The Foundation Chronicles, Book One: A For Advanced, copyright 2013, 2014, by Cassidy Frazee)
“The Aware’s perception of sorcery is that it’s all about destruction and death.” Helena Lovecraft slowly paced across the front of Lab #1, her black eyes darting from one student to another. “You’re cursing items that will harm someone later; you’re using spells to blow shit up; and, of course, you’re tossing out death spells at your enemies, or anyone who’s managed to piss you off and you feel they need a good and permanent lesson.
“The one section of sorcery that most people forget, or just flat out tend to ignore, are those mixtures and spells dedicated to the art of submitting another person to your will.” Helena heard the mummer from the students and knew she had their attention. “Domination of another person was one of the original intents of sorcery, and it was one of the reason a good sorceresses were in high demand, particularly among royalty, or those looking to move into those circles. All it took was a difficult spell—or better yet, a complex mixture.”
You gotta love a teacher who’s telling eleven and twelve year old kids about “blowing shit up” and tossing out death spells at people who piss you off. Just imagine Gilderoy Lockhart saying that line in his voice. Go on; I dare you. Helena is not one for shying away from admitting that sorcery is bad, it’s something that was used to control and hurt people.
And she’s gonna show you how to use it.
Of course, some times she gets in trouble . . .
“Today were are going to brew—” She heard the loud sigh coming from Erywin, who was here to help monitor the lab. She detested any “old school” nomenclature relating to the creation of magical liquids, and could become fairly overwrought at the utterance of the word “potions”. Helena gave her the side eye before continuing. “We are going to formulate a mixture known as the Draught of Submission. Of all the formulas that fall under the domination/submission of will category, this is the easiest to create. That said, this is not an easy potion—” The moment the word left Helena’s mouth, she knew she’d regret the slip up.
Erywin adjusted the tall witch’s hat she’d worn to class. “Are we taking night classes at Hogwarts once again?”
Helena didn’t bother with the side eye this time and turned to face her long time companion. “Hoatu.” She smiled and wiggled her eyebrows, then addressed the students. “You have to forgive me; I was brought up by a couple of old-school sorceresses who constantly used those terms, and my one and only here becomes highly agitated when she hears the ‘P’ word. So I have to watch my terminology least I find myself locked out of our room in the residence.”
“It’s the Twenty-first Century, my dear.” Erywin touched the bill of her hat and smiled back. “One should adjust with the times.”
“Is that why you’re stereotyping yourself?”
“This?” She pointed to the black hat. “I didn’t want the students to become confused; this way you can tell the witch from the sorceress.”
So we have swearing, pronouncements of same-sex love, and a hint that bad things are going to happen in class.
Can’t wait to write the rest of this.