Too Close for Comfort
Stella let her head drop onto the table, her golden hair spilling across the surface as she exhaled loudly. “I’m already over this day, and it’s not even second period.”
Across from her, Musa smirked. “That’s the spirit. Maybe if we glare at the clock hard enough, it’ll speed up.”
Flora reached over to smooth Stella’s hair, the motion automatic and soothing. “You say that every day,” she murmured, her voice like a soft hum in the background.
Stella didn’t bother lifting her head. “Well, it’s true every day. This place is suffocating.”
“It’s not that bad,” Tecna said as she adjusted the holographic display on her tablet. “We’re learning useful information.”
Stella peeked up from under her arm, raising an eyebrow. “Useful information? Tecna, I’ve been a general in a magical war for centuries. You think I need a lesson on basic spells for magical combat?” Her tone was dripping with sarcasm, but it didn’t stop the others from snickering.
“You were a great general,” Aisha chimed in from her spot at the edge of the group, her chin resting on her hand. “But maybe they don’t want us destabilizing the curriculum on day one.”
“Yeah,” Musa quipped, “let’s not give Griselda a reason to monitor us even more than she already does.”
At the mention of Griselda, the table fell into a brief silence. They all felt it — the way the head of discipline watched them, her sharp gaze heavy and suspicious. She couldn’t prove they were more than they seemed, but they knew she was trying to figure it out.
Stella sat up, brushing her hair over her shoulder. “She’s probably just mad because we’re prettier than her.”
Musa snorted, and even Tecna cracked a small smile. Stella took the win, leaning back in her chair and propping her feet up on the edge of the table.
But the ease was short-lived. It always was.
Their second class of the day was Potions, and the air in the classroom reeked of herbs and magical reagents. Stella tried not to gag as she took her seat between Flora and Musa, her nose wrinkling in disgust.
“Is it just me,” Musa whispered, leaning closer, “or does it smell like someone bottled up the swamp and called it perfume?”
“I think it’s supposed to smell like that,” Flora replied, her voice calm but tinged with amusement. She didn’t seem bothered by the pungent aroma, her focus already on the ingredients laid out in front of her.
“Figures,” Stella muttered, eyeing the cauldron on their shared table warily. She wasn’t terrible at potions, but it wasn’t her strong suit either.
Flora mixing,” she said with a reassuring smile. “Just try not to accidentally add anything explosive.”
Stella rolled her eyes but didn’t argue. If anyone could handle potions, it was Flora. Stella leaned back in her chair, letting her friend take the lead as the instructor began droning on about the properties of magical plants.
The bond hummed faintly in the back of her mind, the presence of the others anchoring her like a constant pulse of warmth. Even though they were scattered across the room — Aisha partnered with Bloom, Tecna working solo — it didn’t matter. She could feel them. Their emotions brushed against her consciousness like whispers: Aisha’s quiet determination, Musa’s mild boredom, Tecna’s analytical focus.
But there was something else, too. Something darker.
Stella glanced at Musa, catching the faint furrow in her brow. “You okay?” she murmured under her breath.
Musa hesitated, her fingers idly tapping the edge of the table. “Yeah,” she said finally, but the bond betrayed her. Stella could feel the weight pressing on her friend’s chest, a dull ache that Musa was trying to push down.
“You had another nightmare,” Stella guessed, her voice low enough that only Musa could hear.
Musa didn’t deny it. She just shrugged, her gaze fixed on the bubbling cauldron. “It’s fine. I’ll deal.”
Stella reached out and gave her hand a quick squeeze, the warmth of the bond flaring between them. “You don’t have to deal alone, you know.”
Musa’s lips quirked up in a faint smile. “I know. Thanks, Sunshine.”
Flora’s voice broke the moment. “Stella, can you hand me the star anise?”
Stella blinked, her attention snapping back to the table. “Uh, sure.” She grabbed the small jar and passed it over, her fingers brushing Flora’s.
The instant their hands touched, the bond surged, and Stella felt a wave of calm wash over her. Flora’s presence was like sunlight breaking through a storm, grounding and steady.
“You’re tense,” Flora said softly, her green eyes flicking to Stella’s.
Stella huffed a laugh. “When am I not?”
Flora smiled, but there was a knowing edge to it. “We’ll be okay,” she said, her voice barely audible over the bubbling of the cauldron.
Stella wanted to believe her.
By the time the lesson ended, Stella was ready to bolt. The tension in the air was suffocating, the constant whispers and stares grinding on her nerves.
“Lunchtime?” Musa asked as they gathered their things.
“Definitely,” Stella replied, already heading for the door.
As they stepped into the hall, the bond flared again, pulling Stella’s focus to Aisha. The water fairy was tense, her jaw tight as she scanned the crowd.
“Everything okay?” Bloom asked, her tone casual but laced with concern.
Aisha hesitated, her gaze lingering on a group of second-year witches at the far end of the hall. “Yeah,” she said after a moment, shaking her head. “It’s nothing.”
But Stella could feel the unease radiating from her like ripples in a pond.
“C’mon,” Musa said, hooking her arm through Aisha’s. “Let’s eat. I’m starving.”
The group moved as one, their bond tightening around them like an invisible shield.
No matter what was waiting for them, they’d face it together.