Final Moments in the Garden of Salem: The Promise

Another chapter is down and away in the history books.  Another that just slipped over ten thousand words, making it two in a row, and leaving the story hovering around one hundred and three thousand, five hundred words total.

It was another two thousand word day, too, because I wrote about a thousand words for my Humans recap, and then almost eleven hundred for this scene, which is below.  That’s a couple of two thousand word days back-to-back, and it’s also been a while since I’ve done that.  Part of it was getting into the groove, part of it was grooving out on some good tunes, including one song that is gonna play an important part in Annie and Kerry’s relationship.  I like that, with this story, I’m starting to integrate the music more than I did in the last.  Because, comes right down to it, kids love music, so why wouldn’t it be important to the little witches of Salem?  Which makes me wonder if they crank up the jams when they’re crafting the spells?  Probably do once in a while in Wednesday’s class.

Now that the kids are in the garden, where are they going with this?  Well . . .

(All excerpts from The Foundation Chronicles, Book Two: B For Bewitching, copyright 2015 by Cassidy Frazee)

Kerry barley pressed the fingers of his left hand to the bottom of Annie’s chin; there were there to steady her, nothing more. As she was still in her low heels he moved closer and stretched just enough upward to kiss her, his lips lightly touching hers. He closed his eyes and waited for that sensation he’d felt so often of late, one where he felt as if he were falling into her, thought her body and into her aura. It was a wonderful feeling, and every kiss he shared with Annie he desired this sensation as much as he desired her kiss.

He broke the kiss and wrapped her up within his arms. “I love you, Anelie Victoreva.”

She loved it when he used her patronymic, and though he didn’t actually have one, she had begun addressing them that way when they found themselves in quiet, personal moments like now. “I love you, Kerrigan Davynavich.”

He chuckled. “I hate my name.”

“But it’s your name, and since it’s attached to the boy I love, I love the name.” She leaned in and kissed him on the nose. “It’s been such a special night.”

Now, a little bit about patronymics.  Where Annie lives, family names are tricky.  The reality is–as it was related to me–the family name is Kirilovi, but the name changes when you’re discussing men and women.  Annie’s dad, being a guy, drops the “i”, which is why he’s Victor Kirilov, and Kerry didn’t realize that Annie’s father was a Formula 1 driver.  Her mother, Pavlina, substitutes the “i” for an “a”, and that makes the family name Kirilova, which is the same thing Annie does.

Middle names are easy for girls:  you take your father’s name and add “eva” to it.  So, Anelie–Annie’s real given name–Victoreva–her father’s name with “eva” added.  Annie did something different with Kerry’s name, however, because when it comes to boys, their middle name is the father’s name plus “vich”, and to make it sound right you can add an “a” or “i” before the suffix if you think it’s necessary.  Kerry’s father’s name is Davyn, hence “Davynavich”, though Annie could have easily said, “Davynvich”.

If you want some real fun, when Annie gets married to Kerry–noticed I didn’t say “if”–by Bulgarian law she take take her husband’s family name, or keep her family, or use a hyphenate of the two.  So she could marry and legally end up known as Annie Malibey, or Annie Kirilova, or Annie Kirilova-Malibey, or Annie Malibey-Kirilova.  And, if you really want to crank this up to eleven, she could become so well known by her patronymic, that she’d be known as Annie Victoreva.

Now that we have that information dump out of the way, Kerry’s got something on his mind:

“It has.” They began walking along the path leading to the walkway that would take them to their tower. “Did you have a good talk with Deanna?”

Annie had begun to wonder if Kerry was going to ask her about her time alone with the seer. “Yes, I did.”

“Did you discuss our visions?”



She shrugged. “She said that since we don’t know what happened in the second vision, there’s nothing to prove that our feelings in the first vision are unwarranted.”

“Which means means we should just let things happen—” He shot her a knowing glance.

She nodded as they stepped on to the walk between the Great Hall and Cernunnos Coven tower. “Exactly.”

Kerry let the subject hang until they were almost under the covered portion of the walk. “Wanna sit for a bit before going in?”

Annie leaned against Kerry. “Yes.” She led them towards their bench and sat, snuggling against Kerry the moment he sat. “She was right about that second vision: we don’t really know what happened there.”

“And we won’t until we actually encounter that room—” He slowly placed his arm around Annie’s shoulders and slid it down to her waist. “—whenever that is.”

This is something these two have discussed, so he knows what’s on her mind.  What they know about the second vision is that they don’t know what happened, so the best thing to do is let it be:

She made herself comfortable against her soul mate. “It happens in a couple of years; I’m sure of that for some reason.”

The vision had begun to weigh on Kerry for the last couple of weeks, and this impressions of the time frame were similar. “I think so, too. It’s just—”

“How are we out flying somewhere on our own?”


She slid a few centimeters to her left so she could set her head against Kerry’s shoulder. “We’ll find out in time.”

Of course you kids could ask me, but . . . not telling.

Since spending most of his A Levels reading up on divination and visions, Kerry had begun to hate the idea of having to wait to find out where the vision he’d had would come true. There’s wasn’t just the vision they’d both had at the beginning of this year, but the one he had his first time visiting Memory’s End, and they one they eventually shared months apart. “I still think our first time will be when we get married.”

“I believe the same.” Annie sighed. “That won’t happen until after you turn eighteen—at the soonest. We should be in the last months of our real life experience that summer.”

“Nothing more real life than getting married, right?” Kerry chuckled, but the unease he felt made his voice waver. “Six years: that’s a long time.”

“As long as I’ve loved you.” Annie twisted so she could glide her fingers across his cheek. “We will make it.”

“I know we will.”

That’s a good indication of how long this relationship has lasted.  Annie said she started falling in love with Kerry when he was six, she was almost seven, which makes her time frame correct.  And they knew each other before that, so to say they’ve known each other all their lives is not a misnomer.  They’ve been together a long time, and Annie fully expects them to be together another hundred years.

And now she gets into the really touchy-feely part of the discussion:

Since becoming aware of their wedding night vision they’d tried not to speak of the event, mostly due to not wanting to do or say something that might color how they’d handle the event when they were older. Annie knew this was for the best, but there was this single issue that remained important to her. “Tonight I told Deanna that I knew I would be your first, and that you would be my first.” She settled in against his body again. “I want to wait until we’re married, darling.”

He pulled her tighter against him. “I know; we should.”

“Dealing with that in our relationship . . .” She shook her head. “It brings another level of complexity I’m not ready to handle. You aren’t either: neither of us are.”

Kerry wouldn’t argue because there wasn’t any need. It was one thing to have the relation they shared now—one that was loving and caring and even, in the eyes of some, mature—but neither of them were that mature that they could handle the one thing that would bind them together in a way that nothing else would. “You’re right: we’re not ready. Not for many years.” He chuckled. “Probably not until we marry. There is one thing you’re right about, though—”

“Which is?”

“You will be my first. I promise.”

Annie leaned back just enough to see Kerry’s face. “Would you do a Sorceress’ Bargain with me to ensure that happens?”

He didn’t hesitate with his answer. “Yes.”

She kissed his cheek. “There’s no need for that; I believe you. And you can believe me when I say there will be no other boy.” Annie pressed her cheek against his. “I will be yours completely, my love.”

The light around them extinguished at that moment, plunging the Pentagram Garden into darkness. Annie pressed her arms tightly against her body, holding in the warmth that was slowly dispersing. “I think it’s time for bed.”

Kerry stood and helped Annie to her feet. “Wish we weren’t going to separate rooms.”

She walked slowly alongside her boyfriend. “Tonight we sleep apart; tomorrow—who knows?” She swung their arms. “Maybe the headmistress will give us a room of our own.”

“That would be nice, but . . .” He laughed at the idea of sharing a room in the coven tower. “I don’t see it happening any time soon.”

“Neither do I.” She kissed the back of his hand. “We will always have our dreams, though. We will share those when we can, my love, and live in them where we can’t here.” She let her sight draw out for many seconds. “For now, it is the best we have.”

One could argue that if they sit around and think about sex all the time, it’s gonna happy because they’re thinking about it all the time.  But they are convinced they will be the first for each other, and Kerry making the offer of a Sorceress’ Bargain is his way of making sure they stay together and stay, well, unsullied.  It’s a quaint idea, but Annie doesn’t want to trip off into the minefield that has destroyed other relationships, and Kerry is being supportive.  As pointed out by others at the school, their relationship is so mature it’s not like you’re looking at a couple of kids–then again, they have known each other for about a decade, so they’ve had time to understand each other.

Samhain is over:  it’s time to get into November, and I’m about to do it in a big way–

By hanging out in a manor?

By hanging out in a manor?

Final Moments in the Garden of Salem: The Entry

Where are we?  Back to the last Samhain scene, that’s where.  I promised I was going to write, and yesterday I did.  I actually stayed in all day Sunday and didn’t put on any makeup for the first time since I’ve started wearing the stuff, and between naps and watching The Walking Dead Season 2, I wrote.  I actually wrote a lot, because besides doing my notes for my recap of Humans, Episode 6–where I wrote about a thousand words–I wrote eleven hundred words for this scene, most of which is below.

A two thousand word day.  Not bad at all.

The dance is over and the kids are winding down, but there’s a few things they needed to do before getting to their current location:


(All excerpts from The Foundation Chronicles, Book Two: B For Bewitching, copyright 2015 by Cassidy Frazee)

They’d sat on their sofa for nearly an hour snuggling and chatting. Several people had come back to chat as well, including Wednesday and Isis, who were dressed respectively—according to Kerry—as Chell from the Portal video game and Samus Aran from the Metroid video games. She also managed to discover who Coraline was portraying: Ygritte from the A Song of Ice and Fire series of novels. When she asked if he was sure she wasn’t Merida from Brave, he smile and told her she knew nothing.

They spent the next hour and a half dancing. Fast dances, medium, slow: they were there for them all. The year before they’d spent most of the night sitting, and usually danced when the song tempo was slow. This year he didn’t care how he looked on the floor: as he said while they were on the sofa after dancing to her dedication song, he didn’t care if people thought he looked ridiculous, he wanted to dance with her.

After that it was back to the sofa for some rest before they made their way to Selena’s Meadow and the huge lit bonfires there. As they’d done the year before they walked between the majestic fires and paused in the middle to allow the heat to wash over them. She heard Kerry sigh amid the sounds and scents of the bonfire, and felt his hand tighten around hers. As they emerged from the other side she wondered if Kerry had felt the same sense of renewal as had she.


So now you know what was worn by Wednesday:

I wonder if Wednesday went the whole evening not saying anything?

Did she go the whole evening not saying anything?


I can see a Chief of Security wearing something like this.

I can see a Chief of Security wearing something like this.

And Coraline:

Wonder if Coraline was dreaming of lots of snow?

Wonder she was dreaming of lots of snow?

And let me tell you, coming up with customs for twenty characters–I found my notes in one of the posts and counted–was not an easy task, but I not only came up with the outfits, I showed them!  Ha!  Take that.

But we’re still not in the garden–what happened before that?


After that it was back to the sofa for some rest before they made their way to Selena’s Meadow and the huge lit bonfires there. As they’d done the year before they walked between the majestic fires and paused in the middle to allow the heat to wash over them. She heard Kerry sigh amid the sounds and scents of the bonfire, and felt his hand tighten around hers. As they emerged from the other side she wondered if Kerry had felt the same sense of renewal as had she.

They walked hand-in-hand from the meadow to the path leading back to The Pentagram. They didn’t speak the entire time during their walk, preferring to enjoy the silence while surrounded by darkness. The met no one on the way, but Annie didn’t find that surprising: with it growing cooler many of the students took The Chunnel back to their towers, while those who could often flew or jaunted. She was aware they could have flown to the bonfire and then returned the same way, but Annie knew Kerry loved this walk, as did she. It wasn’t the same as finding a quiet place in the coven commons and snuggling, but she savored these moments alone with her soul mate as much as their times alone on a sofa.

They finally came to the end of the path and entered the clearing between the small parking lot and Founder’s Oak. There weren’t any vehicle in the lot; there never were, save for the first night they arrived in the bus from the train station. The people who come to the school don’t drive. Annie brought Kerry’s hand up and kissed the back. Even for Ostara people jaunt in to watch the program


Since everyone jaunts in to see the Ostara performances and show, that means the parents and relatives know their kids are witchy witches.  And that means unless you come from Legacy families, A and B Level kids will not have their folks and friends in for a show.  So Kerry is performing only to the school–or, I should say, one student in particular.  That means the only people who come into the school are jaunting, or perhaps they’re flying in on a PAV.  The parking lot is just for show; go jaunt or stay home.

Finally they’re in the garden–or, really, just right outside the walls . . .


Kerry looked around and sighed. “So quiet.”

“It’s late.” Annie leaned against Kerry as they walked. “It’s after midnight, my love.”

“I know.” They reached the path leading to Founder’s Gate and began heading up the slight incline. “I don’t feel tired at all, though.”

“Nor to do. I could stay up all night were it not that we have class in the morning.”

“I know; I feel the same way, Sweetie.” Kerry released Annie’s hand and placed his arm around her shoulders. “Though we have to get up in a few hours. That Advanced Self Defense class really puts a crimp in the weekend.”

“Well, we didn’t have to take it: we could have said no and slept in on Sundays.”

He chuckled. “Like we did last year?”

She sighed. “I know, my love. I know.”

They reached Founder’s Gate and stopped a couple of meters inside the immense archway bisecting the Pentagram Wall. Kerry wrapped his arms around Annie and pulled her close. “You cold, Sweetie?”

“No, I’m fine.” She rested her head upon Kerry’s shoulder. “This shawl is keeping me warm—and you’re doing a good job as well.” Annie kissed Kerry. “Ti si moyata vechna lyubov.”

He smiled shone through the darkness inside the gate. “I hope that was good.”

“It was.”

“Then the same for you, my darling.” He took her hand and led her the rest of the way through the gate and into the garden.


What does Annie say there?  I’m not saying.  Ha!  I’m being mean, but only because what she says is oh, so personal.

Finally they entered the interior of The Pentagram and head into the huge garden there.  And there are thoughts–


The Great Hall stood before them, blanked in shadows by the dim indirect light that remained on until one in the morning. Since it was still on, Annie knew it wasn’t yet one, though she guessed it wouldn’t remain on for much longer. I want to see them go out. She directed Kerry towards the path they’d taken many times on late-night walks through the garden before heading to their home away from their homes. I want to walk with Kerry through the darkness to our home, to our floor, to our beds— Another thought entered her head and Annie couldn’t keep her giggle suppressed.

Kerry glanced over. “What’s so funny?”

“I was wondering . . .” She pulled them into a slower walk. “It didn’t bother you at all that you were wearing girl’s clothes tonight?”


Um, Annie?  Are you trying to kill the mood?  No, it’s just how she is, and she knows she’ll get a response from Kerry:


He turned a half-smirk on his girlfriend. “I wasn’t wearing girl’s clothes.”

“Oh?” Annie raised an eyebrow. “Didn’t you show me pictures of how she was dressed in the cartoon?”


“Anime, then. Isn’t your outfit—” She nodded towards him. “—what she wore?”


“Then they’re girl’s clothes.”

Kerry laughed softly. “I guess you’re right.”

Annie chuckled. “Aren’t I always?”

“Hummm—” He kissed her on the cheek. “Pretty much always.”

“Maybe next year we can wear those other outfits that Pang mentioned—” She playfully tugged against his arm. “What did he call them?”

Kerry gave a low sigh. “Fukus.”

Annie wasn’t trying to embarrass Kerry, but she loved the light flush that appeared upon his cheeks. So much like he was last year. “And what are those?”

“You should know: you wear one.” He laughed longer this time. “School girl’s uniforms, but more stylized because, you know, they’re magical girls.” He shook his head. “I don’t think I’m ready to wear one of those.” Kerry tugged on his jacket lapel with his free hand. “This is about as much crossplaying as I want to do right now.”

“Well—” Annie released Kerry’s hand and ran it along his back and shoulders. “I wouldn’t mind seeing you in a girl’s uniform one Samhain, my love.”


Yes, Annie is always right, and Annie–would like to see Kerry in a girl’s uniform for one Samhain?  Humm . . . his Bulgarian Buttercup has some interesting notions.  Then again, with transformation magic–of which he and she are learning the advanced versions–it’s likely that he may be able to grant her that wish one day.

They move on from them, with Kerry giving Annie a response and then . . . bringing up something old.


“Really? Maybe next year. You never know, Sweetie.” He came to a stop and checked their surroundings. “This was the place—”

“Which one is that, love?” Annie knew where they were: she couldn’t erase this moment from her memories if she’d wanted. But she left it for Kerry recall the time . . .

“This is where I almost said what I wanted to say.” He lightly touched her shoulders, moving them upward slowly to cradle her face. “This is where I was going to tell you that I loved you. And I would have—”

“Were it not for déjà vu.” A year ago they’d arrived at the dance, journeyed to the bonfires, walked between the fires, and returned to the garden. Annie remembered feeling then that something important was likely to happen, because that night Kerry had been all about showing her extra attention, only wanting to be with her—and a dedicating a dance that left her emotionally drained and light-headed.

They’d come here, and she’d call him moyata polovinka—my mate—for the first time, though at the time she’d told him it meant “My soul mate”, because she wasn’t certain if he’d understand. But she found out moment later, when his mood turned quiet and serious—

When he tried to speak—while they were kissing, actually—he complained of headaches. While he didn’t know what was happening to him, Annie believed, correctly, that he was suffering from déjà vu, from pain brought about by suppresses memories that wanted to come out, but were being held back due to magic. It turned out that was exactly what had happened to him, but at the time it was only a suspicion . . .


Yes, the scene of the big Déjà Vu Headache, brought about by Annie’s kissing and his desire to say that he loved her.  We know it didn’t happen that night, and it took near death before he overcame the Big Déjà and spit the words she wanted to hear out.

But they aren’t finished yet.  Oh, no.  There is something else on their minds . . .