Our Witch and Old Friends
"There are nine Greater Witches in total, eight of whom are paired according to their respective nature and role. They are older then the cosmos and exist outside the realm that we humans call home. Of course, this does not mean they infallible and it is often said that among the nine Witches Temporia Chronarius Clock is the most temperamental and impatient of the lot, which is a funny thing indeed considering she is the Witch of Time."
~Professor Robin Birch, "A Few Funny things about Witches"
For a Greater Witch, the concept of time is little more then a number to keep track of their infinite days. In fact, until roughly a few thousand years ago, they didn't bother to keep track of the passage of time at all! But once that began mucking up the annual meeting of Witches Council, as no one could quite agree when a year had passed since the last one, it was decided by a vote of 9-0 that yes, it turned out that time keeping was actually quite relevant, even to being of near infinite stature and power. And thus was born from the mind of the Witch of Time the concept of a Witches Day. a Witches day is composed of 39 hours, which is then subdivided into three segments, thirteen hours for sleep, thirteen hours for play, and another thirteen for play. A year is thus made up of four-hundred such days, with each new year being marked by the convening of the Witches Council, a meeting of all nine greater Witches meant to help set policy for the coming year and coordinate plans for the creation and upkeep of new planes of being.
These guidelines are by no means absolute, and any and all Witches are free to do as they please with their personal time, but without a proper structure a Witch will often become lazy, as Sevel, the Witch of Service and current head-maid at the Manor at the Center of Creation, knew all to well. For in last three days, following a single night of revising a tale of hers, Amel, the Witch of Creation, had fallen asleep and refused to get up no matter what her most loyal of servants had tried.
On the first day she had merely yelled at the Greater Witch, and claimed with all her might that her mistress would see no candy for a year unless she awoke that very moment...but she didn't and ignored such normally potent threats by rolling over and snoring. On the second Sevel had take to more direct means of attack, quite literally, and had beat upon the largest pan she could find in rhythm to a song she only half remembered. But again, Amel had refused to budge even an inch, sure she had at one moment popped a single eye open, looked around, and coughed. But right afterward she fell back, and began to snooze once more.
It was maddening to the Witch of Service! Who was Amel to think she could sleep in for so many days in a row? She thought to herself. The answer to that question was, of course, that Amel was literally the creator of all things and people in the universe, and thus could likely do whatever she wanted until the end of time if she so chose. But that was beside the point! Amel would have to wake up soon, or who knows what would happen? The universe as some poor sap knew it could come to an end for all she knew! But regardless of what untold havoc it may bring, Amel must awaken soon for the sake of her honor as a maid!
On the third day of her Mistress' snore filled vigil, Sevel pumped one arm strongly into the air and shouted. "Wake up, my lady! You have a visitor waiting for you at the front door." she said loudly, while quietly laughing to herself safely within the confines of her own mind.
"It took hours to get Miss Tem to come over at such short notice, but if this doesn't get Miss Amel out of bed then nothing will!" she giggled once more.
The news caused Amel to sit up and rub the debris of nearly seventy-eight hours of sleep from her all-seeing eyes and yawned one final time. Dressed in her best pajamas, that for reasons known only to the Witch of Creation herself sparkled like a disco ball when in contact with direct light, Amel gazed deeply at her maid, who currently sat at the foot of her bed, with a bright and wide smile plastered across her face.
"Do I now?" Amel asked sleepily. "Can you just ask them to leave? I'm not done napping yet.
The maid witch rolled her eyes and shook her head, just as it was her job to look after Amel, but also to make sure she made productive use of her time, which as far as she was concerned did not include sleeping for days on end. "My lady, I'm afraid it won't be that simple this time. As it would simply be a travesty to dismiss a guest as important as lady Temporia without an incredibly good reason."
It was then that Amel eyes quite literally lit up like Christmas lights, and her disheveled disco ball-like pajamas magically gave way to a lacy gown that was the same color as the setting sun on a fine autumn night. "Tem is here?!" Amel sighed as she quickly jumped out of bed and onto her now heeled feet. "Why didn't you just say so in the first place?"
Her maid could only sigh, such was daily life with the Creator Witch. "It isn't proper, I'm afraid." she said. "The rules of service, which you so helpfully bound to my very soul, require that all guests to the manor be announced first in generic terms, and then again by name once they've been given permission to enter via the front door. Anything less would simply be improper."
"Well, whatever then, you make my bed and I'll go greet Tem myself. I wonder if she's brought me a present this time...?"
"Wait...!" Selva said in a hurried tone.
Before Selva could say a word of protest, Amel had gone out the door and sped towards the front door where the Witch of Time awaited with open arms for her best friend in this or any other plane of existence. It was always a wonderful sight to see Amel this happy, for as she spent most of her time alone or in the company of servants, it was rare for her to indulge in proper interactions with her fellow Witches. But even as happy as she was...
"Infinite power and she can't even make her own bed." the maid witch sighed once more. "What a woman my lady is."
***
It was rare for visitors to use the Manor's front door, for it was always locked and only those who came on a regular basis had a key. The rest, as the legend goes, would simply appear within the manor's many dimensional confines should Amel ever have need of them. Temporia, as it so happens, was one of the former.
"Welcome back, how have you been?" Amel said she opened the front door as quickly as she could. And just outside its bound stood a small girl, no greater the perhaps four and a half feet in height and with hair nearly to her rear that was colored as black as the space between worlds. Her face, though small and cute at first glance, bore upon its brow the wear of a length of time greater then that of all all of the years lived by every being in every world for all times now and into the future put together, though no mortal being could ever hope to grasp such a horrible concept. She was Temporia Chronadius Clock, the Witch of Time and Amel's equal in both power and stature. And, it so happens that the two had been the best of friends for most of eternity.
"I am fine." the tiny Witch laughed. "But you look like you've been burning the midnight oil for sometime now? Pray tell have you finally taken to using those middle hours for actual work and not sleeping and/or pursuing sweets."
Amel was quiet, the sort of quiet that made a person nervously look about the room, eyes darting like rabbits across an open field, in the vain open that the universe would provide them with some contrivance to get out of an awkward situation. However, as Amel was the person who provided the rest of the Creation with those sort of contrivances, she would instead have to face up to the most difficult of all foes: the Truth.
"I see your tongue is still as venomous as ever, Witch of Time." Amel teased. "But you are actually correct, as I did, in fact, do quite a bit of work last night and saved an entire plane of existence from the threat of remaining ablaze forever."
Amel beamed with pride in both her work and the sheer cleverness of the solution she had concocted to answer the problem of "everything being on fire forever." Tem, being a Witch more clever the most, only smiled, for she could read the Creation Witch like a book with no cover.
"I'm sure you did, old friend. Perhaps we could speak of your triumph over tea and cookies? I've heard that maid of yours can do great things with a bit of sugar and a handful of eggs." Tem spoke with her arms crossed and a smirk still manifest upon her face. She had come to the Manor for the sake of companionship and pleasant conversation, but no Witch, no matter how powerful, could pass up the chance for a light afternoon snack.
"Then you must try her brownies while your here as well!" Amel cheered as she motioned for her fellow Witch to follow her to the dining hall near the rear of the manor. "She makes them from a flour made almost entirely of a type of sentient wheat that had involved on some minor world I created I think.... about a million years ago or so. Though I'm not quite sure, it really is difficult to keep track of time outside the manor sometimes.
But getting back to the sweets, those things do make some absolutely awful noises when ground into a fine powder, but the taste is like nothing I've ever tasted before! Simply wonderful, if I do say so myself."
Through a pair of ornate double doors carved with images of the nine Greater Witches the two went, soon leaving the foyer in favor of greener pastures amidst the manor's grand dining hall. Longer then it was wide, the room boasted an elegant décor consisting almost entirely of greenery culled from places untouched by the hands of mortals. Huge trees jutted from the ground and were bound to one another with vines tougher then steel and diamond combined. In between lie several small enclosures built in the style of a children tree fort that were each furnished with a small table, chairs, and artwork drawn by Amel herself which lay plastered upon every wall. Which was notable as, despite her talent as a creator of all things, Amel's forays into the world of art often resembled the efforts of a particularly untalented five year old.
It was in one such room, up a rope ladder and through a curtain of beads that Amel and Tem came to a rest. Within the tight confines both sat down upon chairs of woven reads and blood red planks and then quickly crossed their legs, as most Witches often do.
"So," the Witch of Time spoke with both her words and several flourishes of her dainty hands. "what has the great Creator of All Things been up to these past few days? Besides putting out that fire of yours, of course."
Amel shrugged and turned her head away in near shame, for she had spent the last three days sleeping peacefully in her own bed and dreaming of all the glorious things she may eat in the near future.
"You know, the usual." she coughed. "Worlds to create, people to breath life into. That sort of stuff."
Tem once more laughed like a school girl, Amel's lies were always easy to pick out and equally amusing to thrust holes into afterward.
"Oh ho, do tell." Tem rested her head on her hands and waited expectantly for an answer. Her cutesy expression had been honed across an endless lifetime bore its full weight upon Amel's being. It was a powerful expression that could, and had in the past, felled giants and could turn even the hardest of souls to mush with even Amel herself having fallen victim to its charms on a few occasions.
Nervously, Amel grasped for an idea, any idea really, that could appease her friends waiting expression. It didn't have to be profound or intelligent, rather it just had to be not stupid. So she dug deep into the depths of her near limitless mind, past memories, thoughts, and more until a single thought shone in the dark like a star in the night sky. The Creator Witch smiled, this, she thought, was a good idea.
"Well, just once I'd like to create a plane of being no bigger then the inside of a small dresser." she explained." It would be a single universe contained within a box complete with its own planets, stars, and people. But also one I could store in my bedroom and keep tabs on whenever I'm bored. So I guess it would be a little like a child's box of toys, but on a universal scale."
Amel looked back at Tem and waited with baited breath for the Witch of Time to speak. When you have existed since before the very concepts of time and space, you tend to have a perspective of things a bit different then the norm. For example, in Amel's case she tended to treat universes, the end product of her creative impulses, as if they were simply stories to be told over spans of time great in length. But even if they were nearly infinite in scope and span, she still desired the same feedback for her tales as any other creator would, immortal or not. And, as it so happens, the only ones worthy of judging an eternal story are those who are eternal themselves. Thus the only beings capable of such an act are Witches, and there was no Witch who's opinion Amel treasured then that of the Tem, her oldest friend and the woman responsible for raising the curtain on all of her creations.
"Well, for something you made up on the spot. I'm actually quite impressed. The prospect of a miniature world is amusing enough, but keeping it in a dresser like a pair of well-worn stockings is simply hilarious!" she laughed. "In fact, it actually reminds me of the early days. You know the ones when all of Creation was still young and yet filled with all of the tales you've spun across ages and eons. Things were different back then, you hadn't taken to holding yourself up in this manor and still went out like a fresh-faced child to each and every place you created just to see how things were playing themselves out."
Tem shook her head and sighed wistfully, recalling days numbered greater than any numerical system could parse. "I do miss those days," she said.
"They were a lot of fun," Amel said in a less reverent tone than her friend as she tilted back in her chair and stared at the ceiling. "You were different back then too, I guess. Since the concept of time didn't even exist as we know it now and no living beings besides the two of us existed in most of these places, we could just run about for years on end, trying to find new ways to use your magic, speeding up and slowing time as you wished, and killing the local plant life, that I created mind you, for no reason other then you could. You also, if I recall correctly, played with the very concept of time as if it were a toy and would even cry if I told you to cut it out. I miss all the fun we had back then, but I really don't miss babysitting you either."
Tem blushed profusely and began to swat at Amel across the table like a small cat might its irritating owner. "I wasn't that much of a child, and was perfectly capable of taking care of myself," she said as in between blows.
Amel shook her head in the negative as she dodged, a feat made easy due to Tem's complete lack of reach. "We both know that wasn't true back then, Tem. For example, if you recall, the third time we went out together to explore a world I'd just created you went overboard and sped up time to the point that you actually caused the whole place to experience heat death! It was like you took a drawing of mine and scribbled it all over it with crayons, who does that!? Oh, I know," the witch said as she avoided several more of her friend's wailing swipes. "A child."
Much like the animal she currently resembled, Tem hissed back at her oldest friend as she found her assault blunt and worthless. "I'll admit only that I was foolish in nature back then, but I was no child! For I was, am, and will always be the Witch of Time; bringer of life to places frozen in-between moments, and herald of death to those on their last legs!" Tem stood and puffed her chest out proudly at she called off her many titles. "You are lucky to have me as a partner, Witch of Creation. For who else would put up with your lay-about ways and complete lack of social life?"
"My maid for one." Amel smiled.
"Besides her!" The Witch of Time yelled and pointed.
"You've got me. Besides Sevel, you're definitely my best friend. But that reminds me, do you remember how we first met?"
"Eh, how in the name of the Nine Witches am I supposed to recall something like that?" Tem gave her friend a rather nasty look, one with an upturned lip and a furrowed brow for good measure. "That was before Creation itself even existed and all that there was anywhere was this manor and us Witches."
Amel nodded solemnly. "I may not know everything, but I do remember that day well. Shall I tell the story to jog your memory?"
"Go ahead. For I have all the time in the world, Witch of Creation." Tem laughed hysterically. That always was her favorite gag.
"That wasn't funny 6.5 billion years ago and it isn't funny now," she said while looking cross. "But regardless, I will tell it anyway..."
***
Before the wide expanse of space, before stars dotted the sky and people walked the Earth, there was only the void which would eventually come to fill the space between universes, but then only spread infinitely in every direction, forming a sea of black that was both eternally empty and full, if only of itself.
There was no life in the time before time, or rather not life as we know it. For in that void, a single voice ran out in frustration. Floating in the endless aether her vocal rumblings carried forever in every direction, never stopping yet never known to anyone besides herself. She huffed and cried and even spit into the void, but none of it seemed to help, as no matter how hard the young girl tried, she simply could not accomplish the task at hand. Though she looked no older than a girl of fourteen, she was already as old as the world around her and always would be and had been floating about for as long as she could remember, which, in fact, covered a very long period of time.
Her name was Amelith Gertrude Selvia Vespaerous, but for all she knew, such a name was worthless, as she was the only being that existed forever adrift in the endless void. For some time in her wanderings, she had attempted to make use of a small trick she had discovered on one unnumbered day some time ago. For if she thought, with all her might and focused herself to the brink, she could manifest anything her heart desired! But as there was nothing around her, she could think of nothing. Without reference, a creator of things cannot go about their work, for the self is not enough basis for much of anything.
For an equally long period of time, all the soon-to-be Witch of Creation could imagine was something to cease her endlessly floating through the void of inky aether. A flat surface of some kind would have worked best from the perspective of the present, but such concepts as "flat," "surface," and just about anything else for that matter had yet to be invented, making the work of the all mighty Witch a chore to be sure.
Once more she cried in frustration, staining her pale cheeks with tears of a substance she had no name for. "All I want to do is to stop floating!" she yelled into the void as streams of salty liquid cascaded across her face. "Why can't I do something so simple!"
So she thought again, this time imagining in her mind's eye the simple concept of "something to prevent me from floating forever." It could have been anything, really. A chair, a stool, even a tree the size of the planet Mars, anything she could just bind herself to and make the chance of her current predicament zero. Thus was how something can come from nothing, for even without a name a "thing" can arise from a mere "concept" and be given a title at a later date.
With this in mind, though not consciously, Amel thought with all of her might and even crinkled her forehead a bit so that she appeared as a woman twice her age might after contemplating her fleeting youth. It was then, that a great flash of light emerged from within the void, temporarily filling the empty space with something beside the floating Witch and her own complaints. Unable to handle the brilliance of the strange occurrence, Amel covered her eyes with the sleeve of her favorite dress, for even if she couldn't figure out flat surfaces, she had some time ago learned to clothe herself. When the explosion of light finally became nothing more than an ocular haze, the future Witch of Creation removed her sleeve from her field of vision and beheld something that brought a broad and endlessly joyful smile to her face; it was a black and white surface floating before her, perhaps no wider than five feet at most on each side and rotating gently like a leaf caught in a slow-moving current.
"Yes! Finally, now I can rest," she said with great pride as she grabbed at her newest creation and soon seated herself upon its surface.
It felt very odd to be able to sit and rest after an eternity spent floating through the void. Sitting, Amel found, was very different than floating, and far more pleasurable. This way, through the gentle spinning of her new platform, she found that she could finally think straight for the first time in a great while. Perhaps it was the lack of frustration or the fact that blood no longer rushed to her brain more often than it didn't, but suddenly her mental block that proven so awful in the past, was almost entirely gone! There were so many wonderful things she wished to create now, so many useful things that would be even nicer than sitting, she thought to herself.
But first, she would have to think of them. And even with her newly clear mind, all that she had to work with was herself, her own thoughts, and the comfort of sitting on a spinning surface.
"Argh." the young Witch sighed. "This is harder than I thought."
And it was. She was but a single being and with a frame of reference that extended on a few feet beyond her own person, the act of creation was a difficult one indeed.
"What I really need is someone to talk to...."
But there was no one to talk to, and there never would be. Simply because the concept of "someone" was intrinsically linked to her concept of "self" and, as she could not create a copy of herself no matter how hard she had tried in the past, Amel had resigned herself to being alone for however long a being like her would last.
And so the tears returned despite her comfortable spinning seat, there was no happiness to be found in creating something if you couldn't share it with someone else, even if it was as simple as this. So Amel cried and cried and cried, her tears falling into the aether forever on a journey that had a beginning, but no middle or end.
"Why so sad?" A voice echoed all around the young Witch, causing her to look around in a panic. She had never heard another voice outside the one in her own head! So this was both an exciting and rather horrifying event.
"Who's there?!" Amel yelled into the void. "Show yourself now, I demand it!"
"And so pushy too," the voice rang. "Being alone for all this time must have screwed up your ability to talk in a reasonable tone, huh?"
From the blackness emerged a girl shorter than Amel in stature, and who appeared bald as her hair was the exact color of the inky depth that surrounded her. She floated in place in a controlled manner and actually seemed as if she had mastered the act and laughed at the other girl wildly, not in jest but more in amusement.
"Don't be mean." Amel pouted. "But you still haven't answered my question, who the heck are you?"
The floating girl laughed once more, how amusing it was to finally discover the "other" she had been seeking for so very long and have her turn out to be such a testy and petulant child, she thought to herself.
"I am Temporia Chronarius Clock, young one, and, like yourself, I am someone that "exists" in this place. I was drawn here by that awfully bright light of yours, as I've never seen such a thing occur in all my life. I just had to come over and see what the fuss was all about."
"Temporia... it's a pretty name." Amel said as she thought about the mind-boggling existence of another person besides herself. But more than that, she just wanted someone to talk to and thus quietly ignored any existential issues that Temporia's existence called to mind. "Would you like to look at this thing I just made? You can sit on it too if you want.
"Sit?" Tem cocked her head to the side and thought aloud. "What is that exactly?"
"Oh, it's when you take your rear and plant it on something. It is like the opposite of what you doing right now, in fact. So why don't you give it a try? It is far more interesting than "floating," which you've probably been doing for forever now."
Tem tried her best to sit, and for a few moments floated about the small square and did everything from balancing on her head to floating just a few inches above Amel's spinning square. But none of them were anything that could be defined as "sitting."
"Come on! It isn't that hard." Amel yelled. "Let me show you."
Rather than giving a demonstration of the act, Amel instead grabbed at the newcomers' skirted rear and, with all of her strength, pinned it up on the spinning square a few inches behind her. The space was indeed cramped, but it was a sacrifice the young Witch was willing to make to get her point across.
"This," she exclaimed excitedly. "Is sitting!"
Sitting was a new experience for Tem and felt odd at first. Used to her body floating freely without the confines of gravity or other yet-to-be-established laws of space and time, being stuck to the ground was somewhat...liberating, in its own restrictive way.
"Is this it?" the Witch of Time asked. "I mean is this really the whole experience of "sitting?"
Amel nodded. "It is."
"Then it isn't all that impressive, I'm afraid. I'm quite capable of floating anywhere I wish any time I wish so I see no reason that I need to stick myself to the ground in order to accomplish much of anything."
"But it does help you think," Amel added.
'What?"
"When I was floating around like that for who knows how long, my head was a jumble of conflicting thoughts and feelings. I couldn't create anything even if I wanted to. But now that I don't have to think about how I might never stop floating through the abyss or if I'll never meet another person ever, my head is much clearer now and I can actually focus on other things for the first time. Even if "sitting" isn't my most impressive creation, it at least provides the basis of other things I may do in the future."
"A well-thought-out answer, tell me again, what is your name, young one?" Tem smiled.
"Amelith Gertrude Selvia Vespaerous," she repeated.
"That is simply too long. From now on I will call you Amel, it I far easier to remember and a bit cuter than that ponderous thing you call a name anyway. I take it you have no objections to the matter?"
"Only if I'm allowed to give you a nickname as well, Ms. Clock." the Creator Witch teased with her tongue poking out.
"It is only fair, but I agree only under the provision that you never call me that again."
If there was any sore spot in the Witch of Time's otherwise flawless facade, it was her third name. Whereas most Witches bear grand names that flow like rushing rivers and sing like birds when passed between the lips of mortal beings, she was the one exception, and was burdened with the name of "Clock." A guttural and awful-sounding word that would, in a time far removed from then, come to refer to a time-keeping device. Thus it was always Temporia that others called the Witch of Time, and anything else would lead to threats of violence or worse.
"Then you will be called Tem from now on! As you said, it is a cute name and I believe it suits you well. You are such a tiny and adorable thing, after all." the future Witch of Creation teased, bringing a blush to the face of her newest companion.
"Tem is it." she huffed. "On to other business, now that you've mastered the art of "sitting" what do you intend to do with yourself, Amel? You can't just sit here forever and gaze into the darkness. That will only breed despair and sadness."
Amel thought, and thought, and thought some more. Even after searching the depths of her mind and soul, she honestly didn't know. For a short eternity, her only impulse had been to find a way to stop her eternal floating, now that she had achieved that, she was just a bit lost.
"I don't know." she hung her head low. "I think I may just sit here for a while until a good idea comes along."
Tem rose and stood just upon the edge of the small square and gazed daggers at Amel. "Do you have no ambition or drive? " Amel shook her head, having nothing else to say in return. "Wrong! You obviously have a flair for things that even I don't, how else could you have created this thing from seemingly nothing? If you can't do anything else, why not expand this thing upon which we both are sitting? If it was bigger we could stand or play or anything else really for as long as we wish without risk of falling into the void. I think that would be a good place to start."
"Would you really play with me if I did?" Amel asked sincerely.
"Of course, it isn't like I have anything better to do. So just get to it already, as I am bored, and sitting here for all times is none too appealing."
"Great, but I'm holding you to that promise. If you decide to back out afterward, I'm going to have to punish you." Amel laughed.
"Yes, yes, whatever. Just stop talking and get to it already, before I get bored."
Amel nodded, and so it began.
For an unknown amount of time, Amel went about her work expanding and changing the small square of space into a sprawling playground of sorts nearly a thousand feet wide and twice and long. Upon its surface lay strange geometric shapes meant ot be climbed upon and jumped across as all children were want to do, and in between it all sat several more squares like those the grand surface had once been. Meant for sitting, the most primal of actions as far as Amel was concerned, so that, when she and Tem tired of playing and running about for hours on end, they could sit and talk. About the future, about what might lie deep in the reaches of the void, and if any other people besides themselves existed anywhere and or any when.
But like any fun trip, reality had to creep in eventually and did just that one afternoon, or at least it would have been an afternoon by human reckoning when the pair found themselves seated once again, just as they had been when the idea of the playground was just glitter in Amel's amber eyes.
"Tem," Amel said, gazing into the blackness above her.
"What is it?" she said in return.
"I think there should be more to Creation than just our playground," Amel said wistfully.
"Really? Do you truly need anything more besides this place and our daily interactions?"
"No," Amel shook her head. "But I also think that it would be fun if there were more places that we could play, and people we could play with! If I could create those things, the void wouldn't look so lonely anymore, because it would be filled with all sorts of places, things, and other people, all who would know things we don't know and could show us ways to have fun that we haven't even thought of!"
Tem laughed. For how simple she seemed at times, Amel occasionally displayed a shining brilliance one would not expect given her usual facade. This, she thought, was one such moment.
"You'll need some help if you intend to fill all of that black with people and things. Would you mind if I tagged along for the ride?" Tem said quietly.
"Of course, I wouldn't have made this place unless you suggested it and I bet I'll need your help in the future too. So let's do it, together, OK?"
Amel offered her friend her right hand, which the Witch of Time took, and then shook vigorously with a smile on her face. Thus from a simple desire to play, began the creation of all universes as humans know them.
***
"Was I really that much of a sap back then?" Tem asked.
"Yes, though I think you actually became less mature over the years. Maybe I was rubbing off on you?" Amel laughed. "But seriously one last question, do you remember what became of our playground?"
This Tem remembered, for even if she could recall the entire story of how the two of them had met, the knowledge of their childhood base of operation would never leave her tiny head.
"Of course I do," she stated in a nostalgic manner. "We're sitting in it right now."
"Good, I'd have been a little sad if you forgot that."
"I never will, you old fool of a Witch. But that is enough talk of the past, where is that maid of yours with our cookies and tea? I feel like I've been sitting here for years waiting.
"I sent for her some time ago, I imagine she will be here soon."
"Very good, but while we wait, I have a question for you as well, Witch of Creation." Tem's tone grew serious, a rather occurrence when dealing with her oldest friend.
"And that is?"
"Do you know who you will be bringing to this year's Witches' Council yet? There is about a month or so until the occasion and I would hate to have you scratching at my door again at the last moment begging for accompaniment. That was awful, and I simply had no time to think up something to wear, let alone anything that matched your usual garish evening gowns."
"I've not yet decided on anything, but I will let you know as soon as I've chosen my partner for the event."
"Of course, but for now, I will tell you that I would not mind going with you this year."
"I know." Amel smiled. "Isn't that how it always is?
It was then that Savel arrived with cookies and tea for both Greater Witches, on her face she wore a look of great and deep thoughts. What she was thinking, however, was a mystery to all but herself.
***