The Potion Part 1 - A Short Story

Written in 2021 | Rewritten in 2024 | 3,435 words

The story you are about to read is a “vomit draft.” This means that it is in its rawest form of writing and has no professional editing done whatsoever. But I welcome any corrections, grammatical or otherwise, you may find.

PART I 

While the villagers of Colkirk slept, Manuella rubbed her weary eyes and yawned loudly, willing herself awake. The last few days she’d taken to waking up hours before her mother and grandmother, to prevent them from witnessing even more mishaps. And her latest victim was a tree, newly growing in their back garden. She was given the task of bringing it to fool bloom. It was the spell both her mother and grandmother mastered two years earlier than her current age. But Manuella was persistent. She would not let them down even though she had the weight of hundreds of generations of Howler witches in her family.  

Manuella dozed off sitting in front of the tree and when her head fell to one side she woke with a start. The sky started to turn orange from the sun rising. If she didn’t hurry her mother and grandmother would stand and watch, making Manuella nervous and that never led to a positive outcome. 

With her heart beating so loudly she could hear it thumping in her ears, Manuella raised a shaky hand and pointed it in the general direction of the tree. She licked her lips as her mouth turned to sand and closed her eyes tightly. The words for the spell had vanished from her memory. She spent the entire day and most of the night repeating them over and over again in her sleep! 

“Come on. Come on. Remember the words, damn you,” she muttered to herself. And then suddenly there they were. Cowering in the back of her mind, afraid of what would happen should they come forward. She remembered what her grandmother told her about the delivery of a spell. She should  not fear the words. They must be clearly spoken and she must mean it. She must visualize what the spell is intended to do before she’s finished. 

Manuella steadied her hand, opened her eyes, and with a mouth so dry her tongue stuck to the roof of her mouth, uttered words no human being, let alone a tree, could understand. 

“Damn,” said Manuella and rose to her feet. The tree’s limbs shook violently and for a moment, she thought maybe it worked. Then it crumbled to the ground into dust. What was once a tree that had been growing far longer than Manuella had been alive, was now rendered to a pile of ash. She fell to her knees in front of it and for the first time sobbed into her hands. 

The sound of someone giggling nearby made her stop and she sat up straight, wiping her eyes. She turned around to see Flip leaning against her house, his arms folded. 

“Having some trouble, Manuella?” he said, a smirk on his face. Flip and Manuella were the same age, having been born just hours apart from each other. His parents were great friends of Medina, Manuella’s mother. And it was Madella, her grandmother, that helped during the births of Manuella and Flip. 

The two of them played together when they were younger. Flip would always tease Manuella about how tall she was and for years called her Giant Man, forgetting that he was half her size and able to pound him to the ground easily. With a fat lip, Flip and Manuella’s friendship grew. Then the time came for her to stop playing and start to learn how to be a witch. It was around this time that Flip’s parents died and his care was entrusted to the Howler family. While Manuella took lessons from her grandmother, Flip ran errands for them. Any ingredients they needed or messages that required delivery, he would do it for them. 

This time that Manuella and Flip spent apart from each other made what little time they did have together awkward. She wanted to tell him about her lessons, but as he could never be a witch, he made it clear to her that he didn’t want to know anything about it. He’d try to tell her about his other friends who he’d spend the majority of his time with, but as they were all boys, she found little in common or of interest with their topics of conversation. 

“Were you watching me?” Manuella asked. She dug her fingers into the dirt beneath her and came up with some in both of her hands, waiting for Flip’s answer. 

“Ever since you started waking up before sunrise,” he replied. “I can see now why you do it.” Manuella rushed to her feet and marched towards him, hurling both fists full of dirt at him. Her ability to cast a spell may not be perfect but her aim always was. While Flip spat out some of the dirt that landed in his mouth, Manuella grabbed him by the shirt collar and slammed him up against the house. Over the years she continued to grow taller while Flip grew as well, but he was always about a foot and a half shorter. His scrawny body was easy for Manuella to lift, allowing him to graze the tips of his shoes in the dirt. 

“I suppose you can do better?” she asked, knowing full well that he couldn’t. An argument she’d always win as he was just a boy and could never be a witch like her. 

“In my sleep,” he said, continuing to smile even though his face was covered in dirt and he was in grave danger of being pounded to the ground again. But there was something about the look on his face that made Manuella wonder if he didn’t actually believe what he was saying. She lowered him to the ground and slowly released his shirt collar. 

“Okay, Flip. Go ahead then. Let’s see you put the tree back to the way it was,” she said, backing away from him. 

Flip squared his shoulders and did the best he could to brush dirt off of his shirt before marching towards the pile of ash in the dirt. He stretched both his arms out and raised his hands perpendicular with his body. Manuella covered her mouth to stifle her own laughter. Then Flip spoke the words she should’ve said earlier. Only when he spoke them it was clear and powerful. She could tell he meant every word. 

As the sun rose high in the sky, it’s rays cast light on the ash that suddenly floated in the air forming roots of a tree, then limbs and leaves appeared. Manuella stormed towards Flip and shoved him out of the way so hard he fell on his backside into the dirt. 

“Saints be praised! Medina, come quick. Look at what your daughter has done.” Manuella soon on her heels, shocked to see her grandmother standing in the doorway, looking prouder than she ever had of her granddaughter. Manuella looked to where she shoved Flip but there was no sign of him. Madella rushed towards her granddaughter and hugged her tightly. “I knew you could do it,” she whispered in her ear. 

Medina came running outside, still in her nightgown and shrieked with delight. “Finally! Come here, my child,” she said, and held her arms out. Manuella broke free from her grandmother’s embrace and gulped as she walked towards her mother who hugged her even tighter. She then released her and grasped her by the shoulders, looking her in the eyes. “I told you all you needed was patience and practice. No more being so hard on yourself.” 

“Yes, mother,” Manuella said. “I’m hungry. Can I have eggs and bacon?” 

Madella chuckled. “Of course she’s hungry. I remember after the first time I learned my first spell I felt like I could eat a whole donkey.” Together, the three of them walked back into the house, with Manuella taking one more look over her shoulder at the tree standing taller than before. 

During breakfast all Medina and Madella could talk about was what Manuella should learn next. They could not allow her to move forward in her lessons until she could master the ability to grow inanimate objects. Manuella wanted to suggest they give her more time to practice this one spell before entrusting her with more difficult ones. But then she’d have to come clean about what really happened with the tree. The last thing she wanted to do was disappoint them. She hadn’t seen them this giddy and excited sitting at the table in a long time. And they were finally proud of her. 

There came a knock at the door that started the three of them. They hardly ever had any visitors but it wasn’t uncommon either. Medina went to the door and opened it. 

“Flip, why did you knock?” 

Flip peeked around Medina, clutching his favorite hat in his hands tightly, a sign that Manuella recognized well. He was nervous. “I didn’t want to disturb your breakfast, miss.” 

“Miss? Flip, what ever is the matter with you? Are you feeling okay?” Medina asked, surprised by Flip’s unusual behavior. Reluctantly, he crossed the threshold into the house. While he was under their care, Flip didn’t actually live in their house. His parent’s house is just a few minutes walk and it was decided that he was old enough to remain their on his own.  

“Here, have something to eat. Then maybe you’ll feel better. Put some color back in your cheeks,” Madella said, and put a plate down at the table. 

“I’m not hungry. I’m here to give you this. I watched a raven drop it on my doorstep before flying away. It’s addressed to the both of you,” Flip said, pulling a rolled up parchment from his pocket, tied with a black ribbon and handed it to Medina. 

Manuella looked curiously at her mother and grandmother who both had worried expressions on their faces. 

“What is it? Do you know who it’s from?” Manuella asked. 

“Not exactly. A raven and this black ribbon tells us it’s from a witch.” 

“What’s wrong with that? You’ve told me there are hundreds, maybe thousands of witches all over the world. We are not the only ones,” Manuella said. 

“That is true. But not all witches are good. And not all messages from a witch can bring happy tidings,” Madella said. “Go on, daughter, open it.” 

Medina tugged on a string and the black ribbon fell freely to the floor. She unrolled the parchment and they all watched her eyes scan back and forth, reading the letter once, then reading it again. Quickly her eyes changed from worry to joy. 

“Well, mother, what is it?” Manuella asked, unable to hold back her curiosity any longer. She was also nervous about the fact that Flip avoided eye contact with her the moment he walked into the house and it was making her uncomfortable. 

“I can’t believe it. What luck!” Medina said. “Read it yourself, mother.” She handed the parchment to her mother, who read it twice as well. 

“Henbane. She’s found henbane!” 

“What is henbane?” Manuella asked. 

“Never you mind, dear. It’s just very hard to come by these days. I’m just surprised she’s sharing this information with us. I thought Cressa didn’t like us very much, after that time—” 

“Mother, I don’t think we should discuss that right now. Besides, she owed me one. A few years back she was running low on nightshade and I sent her a few buds,” Medina said, before walking out of the kitchen and starting to pack. 

Madella’s eyes widened. “You sent Cressa nightshade? Are you mad? How do you know what she was going to do with it?” 

“Mother, would you start packing. We haven’t much time. If we leave now, we’ll be there in two days. We’ll be back in a fortnight. And I did it because rumor had it henbane was sighted near her location. I figured if I did her a favor it would pay off. And it has!” 

Madella put down the parchment on the table and joined her daughter in packing. “Yes, but what about Manuella?” 

Flip licked his lips and clutched his hat over his stomach. Manuella could hear his stomach churn from hunger. “Do sit down, Flip. Grandmother fixed that plate especially for you.”  

Still avoiding eye contact, Flip sat at the table and gobbled down the plate of food. His eyes glanced over at the letter and he stopped eating to have a closer look at what it said, reading it aloud, “…additive to beer…powerful narcotic…flying…”  

Medina came up behind Flip and snatched the letter out of his hands. “It’s rude to read other people’s letters, Flip. Especially, another witch’s letters.” She folded the letter and tucked it away inside her shirt. “Now, Manuella, your grandmother and I will be leaving you two for a few days. But we’re sure Colkirk will be in good hands.” 

“A few days? Is this, ‘henbane,’ really that important? I mean, are you sure I’m ready to be on my own? What if something happens?” 

“What could happen. The candle is lit,” Madella said, and they all look over at a candle on the fireplace mantel. “As long as it remains that way no harm can come to the village. All you have to do is stay out of trouble. Flip, we’d like for you to stay here with Manuella while we’re away. A woman her age shouldn’t be alone even in a safe village.” 

This time Flip protested. “Are you sure? I mean, what will the villagers think?” 

“They mustn’t know we’ve left. Especially not Adyn. The way his nerves are, he’ll tell everyone and have them all scared to death at our absence. With any luck he’ll have no reason to come here looking for us. Things have been fairly quiet for a long time. Also, Manuella, while we are proud of your accomplishments this morning, we think it’s best if you don’t practice any spells while we’re away.” 

This order made Flip happy to hear. Manuella nodded and spent the rest of the morning sulking with worry while her mother and grandmother finished packing. 

With a kiss on the forehead from Medina and Madella, they walked out the front door, leaving Manuella and Flip alone in the house. 

“Well,” Flip said, “if I’m going to be staying here, I might as well get some clothes. I’ll be back later.” He walked quickly towards the door, hoping Manuella would move out of his way, but she didn’t budge. 

“Not so fast,” she said, walking towards him. He had no option but to walk backwards to avoid any harm she might be thinking of causing him. “Explain how to did that this morning?” 

“Did what? As I recall you got all the credit. I did nothing.” Manuella grabbed him by the collar again, this time with one hand, leaving the other free to pull back and ball into a fist. Flip closed his eyes, preparing for impact, but none came. Instead, she let him go and ran out of the house. 

Flip fought with himself on whether or not he should go after her. She had a habit of striking first and talking afterwards when it came to him. But he had to risk it. Medina left him to look after her. He ran out of the house and didn’t have to go far as he found her standing in front of the tree he cast a spell on that morning. 

“Listen,” Flip said, “don’t beat yourself up about it. I’m sure what I did was a fluke.” 

“But how? You’re a boy.” 

“You think casting spells is something only women can do? Well, it’s not. You ever heard of warlocks?” Manuella shook her head. “That’s what you call a man who can cast spells. It’s not as common but it is possible.” 

“Who taught you? How did you—” 

“No one taught me. I’m not lucky like you, with a mother and grandmother to guide me. I learned from spying on your lessons everyday.” 

“That’s a lie! You go off and spend time with your friends,” Manuella said. 

“Friends? What friends? I don’t have any friends. No one wants to spend time with the errand boy of the Howlers,” Flip said, staring at the ground, kicking up dirt and rocks. “But that’s fine. I’ll show them. I’m going to learn spells and potions and one day I’m going to…” He stopped when he saw tears well up in Manuella’s eyes. “Aww, geez, don’t cry. And whatever you do, don’t throw dirt at me either.” 

“What am I going to do, Flip? My family thinks I’m ready. I’m not ready. I can’t even do a simple spell and you mastered it by spying on us. I’m hopeless.” 

“Not necessarily. I’ve watched you practice. The trouble with you is, you’re taking it too seriously. The fate of the world doesn’t have to hang in the balance with every spell you cast but you get yourself all nervous like if you don’t do it right then we’re all going to die.” 

“Easy for you to say. You’re not the one the village will be turning to when my grandmother and mother are gone and it’s just me. Either I learn how to protect this village or I’m going to have to leave. That’s how it’s been for my family for generations. A witch is only as valuable as her use. If I’m useless…” 

“Well, we have seven days to change all that. I’ll teach you. And by the time they return there’ll be a dozen trees just like this one that you raised up.” 

“Why are you helping me? I’ve been nothing but cruel to you for so long.” 

“Secretly I’m hoping you’ll be nicer to me if I help you. Besides, I hate to see you cry.” 

Manuella shoves Flip playfully this time. “Hello, Manuella. Is, is, is your mother about?” 

They both turn towards the house and see mayor Adyn out of breath and looking rather frazzled. He’s a portly gentleman with no hair on his head but a long white beard and mustache. When they were younger, Manuella and Flip would joke that he had no hear on his head because it was all growing on his chin. He wore long flowing robes that did little to hide his round body but he insisted they did. Even on the hottest of days, as it was on this particular morning, he wore them, and they contributed to his shortness of breath. 

“My mother and grandmother just went out for a short walk. Is something the matter, mayor Adyn?” Manuella asked. 

“Indeed, oh indeed. S—s—see this,” he stammered, shoving a letter into Manuella’s hands. It was a note from Visilios, threatening to storm into their village and burn it to the ground if they were not given a long list of items and they had till the following evening to comply. 

“But that’s impossible. Visilios can’t find us. The protection spell is proof of that.” 

“Th—th—then how do you explain the letter? I must speak to your m—m—mother.” 

“They’ll be gone for ages, mayor Adyn,” Flip said. “Why don’t you come inside and see for yourself that the protection candle is still lit? Then maybe that will put your mind at ease. As long as it’s lit, Visilios can never find us, let alone burn our village down.” 

Flip led Adyn into the house with Manuella following close behind. Inside, they all stood before the mantle, happy to see the candle was where they left it, perfectly lit. It was a protection spell cast by Madella’s mother after the previous protection spell ceased to work. This one is meant to be much stronger. The flame can never be snuffed out or blown out by any human or beast. And as long as the flame remains lit the protection spell around the village cannot be broken. 

Satisfied and relieved that the candle burns as it did many years ago, mayor Adyn departs the home much jollier than when he arrived. 

“That was close. I’m just glad we have this candle,” Manuella said, taking it down off the mantle. 

“Careful with that thing,” Flip said, holding his hands out to catch it should she drop it. 

“What are you worried about? No human or beast can blow out the—the—AH-CHOO!” Manuella sneezed loudly. “Excuse me.” 

“Uh, say that part again about how no human or beast can blow out the candle,” Flip said, pointing at the candle in her hand.  

Manuella looked down to see the flame was no more. 

TO BE CONTINUED…