As the first of the mentors was recruited, Lauriel could feel his hopes bloom inside his chest. Sly was a vampire, but that was exactly what he needed - a supernatural being who enjoyed the art of writing and reading alike, and could give some desperately needed insight to the candidates.
Yet, except just his nature, Sly was interested in good writing as much as he was and could educate on how to write a good villain - given that he was one.
The second one was a witch. But not just any witch. As he was riding in his chariot, Lauriel was blankly staring into the clouds, his lip between his teeth again.
Margarita was a peculiar witch because out of all the supernatural talents she had, her natural gift was to write a compelling story that will draw in the readers and present enough evidence for them to believe it was on par with her talent for magic. The only problem was that she was prone to twisting the truth in order to achieve it. Which was both a good and a bad thing.
His locks kept bouncing off his cheeks, irritating him further, as the wind was gushing in sudden fall as the chariot descended in front of a house made out of orange bricks. Windows on the house were big and clean, showered by rays of sunshine. Their frames were white, as was the entrance door. Walking off the chariot slowly, Lauriel flicked the annoying lock off his face, then stopped in front of the door. Just as he was about to knock on the door, he spotted the ornament. The brass ring on the top had a shape of a snake tail, with the gaping face of a snake hissing portrayed right on top of the tail. Distracted for a second, Lauriel stared at the snake, which looked as if it was alive, biting into his bottom lip slightly yet again. He sighed, turning towards his chariot, glancing at the marvelous horses, which just blankly looked at him.
'Right', he muttered to himself. He was already here. Might as well knock on the door.
Only, as he turned back, he found himself face to face with a middle-aged witch smiling at him from the doorframe, sizing him up.
"My pet told me you were looking for me," she said, waving her hand, with exceptionally long nails, to the snake, which winked at him. Lauriel sighed again.
'Alright.'
"My name is Lauriel, Margarita. I was indeed about to knock." he said, carefully taking in the witch. Her red hair was full of tidy locks framing her face, and she did not stop smiling at him for a second, as if she was trying to appear friendly. It had exactly the opposite effect, as the fixed smile was more and more creepy, the longer he looked at her. Yet it matched her calculating expression behind her rectangular glasses.
Her glance held for a moment on his clothes, just to slide on the chariot behind him for a moment, and return to his face.
"It would seem as if you have some business with me. I do not wish to discuss it on the streets. Come in." She grasped his hand with a strong grip, urging him to enter.
Lauriel let her drag him inside the relatively small, yet comfortably looking house. They stepped into a narrow hallway. Lauriel saw a narrow white staircase in front of him and a picture frame with an article inside before he was dragged to the doors on the right side of the staircase. Room Margarita dragged him into was a small sitting room. As they entered, she let go of him and pointed one of her claw-like fingers toward a couple of sofas in the middle of the room.
"Make yourself comfortable, mister…" she said, expectantly looking at him.
Lauriel felt like anything but introducing himself, yet it was why he was there.
"My name is Lauriel," he said, sitting on the sofa facing the fireplace. Even when he would prefer taking a look at the sun, he was interested in the interior decorations Margarita had framed on the walls. Unlike the article in the hallway, the ones he spotted in this room had rich frames, and pictures of various witches and wizards she wrote about.
In the meantime, Margarita drew the wand, taking a seat on the opposite side of the sofa, not taking her eyes off the guest for a second.
"No last name?" she asked immediately, as she flicked the wand in a short, controlled manner. In the same instance, in between them, on a wooden coffee table appeared a tea set with two cups, sugar, and delicious-looking biscuits.
"I am afraid not." He smiled as her eyes narrowed down slightly behind her glasses.
"I noticed you have taken interest in my work." she continued, waving at the tea, indicating for him to serve himself.
"It is a marvelous collection of names, indeed."
"But you are not here to discuss my works, I imagine."
This time, Lauriel paused a bit before answering, making his hands with the tea. Even though she offered, the witch did not seem even slightly interested in the refreshment herself.
"I have taken interest in it." He replied after taking a cup into his hands, then took a sip of a warm liquid.
When he returned his gaze to Margarita, her smile seemed to have broadened a bit.
"Oh, indeed? Tell me, what about it did interest you?"
Lauriel smiled right back at her.
"Oh, the lengths you are willing to go to in your pursuit of the story, of course."
Instantly, her wide smile froze on her face. She glanced at the cups.
"I have no idea what are you talking about," Margarita said with a flat tone, a smile immediately returning to her face.
"Well, I do have to disappoint you, because the tea will not work on me. Regardless, I am here exactly because I have taken an interest in your dedication to your stories and resourcefulness."
Lauriel allowed himself another sip of delicious spiked tea, as Margarita watched him silently.
"Is there any specific reason you would need my… talent?" she asked, still focusing all of her attention on his face as if willing him to say everything.
"Indeed, there is. You succeeded in creating engaging works and having your audience through it. And that is exactly what I am searching for at the moment. Would you be interested?" Lauriel continued with a soft smile.
Margarita's eyes light up.
"So, you are trying to tell me you need my talent for a ruthless search of the story that attracts attention and is worth reading?"
Lauriel nodded.
"Precisely that."
Margarita laughed loudly at it.
"Who do you want to expose? Because I have a lot of good ones in mind, and I would be more than happy to collaborate on this, of course, for a price."
"Nobody," he replied biting his lip for a moment. "I would like to invite you to Enchanted Garden as a mentor to students who need enlightenment about finding their way around writing and getting a sense of what makes a good, inviting story."
The silence that filled the room was almost visible. Margarita was unable to say a thing as she was looking at Lauriel. He took the time to glance around, uncomfortable under her piercing gaze.
The white fireplace behind her held a couple of framed pictures of the witch accompanied by multiple famous faces that all carried the same uneasy expression as he mirrored on his face at the moment.
'It was kinda remarkable how talented this witch was in getting people to feel uncomfortable around her, yet at the same time be so successful getting to their most guarded secrets.
"Where? To do... What exactly?" she asked in a brisk tone. "Who are you even, Lauriel without last name?"
This is exactly why Lauirel was unsure about approaching her in the first place. For somebody dealing with people as much as she did, it is not easy to tell her enough, yet not to reveal exactly where Enchanted Garden is. After all, if she said no, and he told her… It would not serve good, given her history of revealing things that had no business being public knowledge. But that exactly made her valuable addition.
"You would be a mentor to writers in a secluded place, invented precisely for this purpose. But since its location is secret, as are all the details regarding this, I cannot disclose anything else unless you accept the position."
"You told me, indeed, but it was a half-truth. So, before reaching a decision, I would need to know the other half," Margarita replied with her smile plastered back in place.
It was his turn to stay silent. She did not want to blatantly refuse the offer that could potentially be worth a story. Finally, he spoke again:
"I told you as much as I am able to at this moment. I can add that you would be fairly compensated for your time and effort."
As soon as Margarita heard the word 'compensated' her eyes lit up behind the glasses.
"Oh?" She smiled. "What kind of compensation?"
And there it was. The price. Lauriel counted on Margarita's interest in a good story that she could exploit. So he smiled back at her.
"I feel that we are finally able to reach understanding."
'That is two.'