Lyra, leading the group down the dimly lit corridor, suddenly stumbled, nearly losing her balance as Vasida and Sylph, walking behind her, collided with her in confusion.
Vasida quickly reached out to steady her, concern flashing across her face. "Lyra, are you alright? What happened?"
Lyra pointed a trembling finger upward. "The Dean... she's up there!"
Vasida furrowed her brow and followed Lyra's gaze up the staircase. "The Dean? But… isn't she supposed to be…" She trailed off as her eyes fixed on the familiar figure in a dark purple robe. "Wait, that is the Dean, right? Who else could it be?"
The little witches huddled together, eyes wide with disbelief. They had just seen the Dean not too long ago in a different robe. And now... there she was again?
Before anyone could react, Ms. Amisha; dressed in the mysterious purple robe; approached them with her usual grace, a warm smile on her face. "Good morning, little witches! If you're headed to the West Tower, just go up to the second floor, turn left, and keep walking. You'll get there soon!"
The witches exchanged nervous glances as they stammered, "Thank you, Dean..."
Ms. Amisha gave a polite nod, then disappeared down a corridor, her robe swirling behind her as she rounded the corner.
As soon as she was out of sight, Vasida rubbed her eyes, bewildered. "Am I seeing things? Was that really the Dean?"
Sylph, equally shaken, crossed her arms and huddled closer to Lyra. "No, you're not imagining it. I saw her too." She glanced around the brightly lit castle that now felt just a little too eerie.
"We all saw it!" Lyra added, her voice barely above a whisper. The little witches, all visibly unnerved, crowded together, their whispers growing louder.
"But how can there be two Deans?" one of them blurted out, panic rising in her voice.
"Maybe she went up to the third floor earlier and came back down a different way?" another offered, trying to make sense of the situation.
"But one of them had a blue robe, and the other had a purple one. Why would she change clothes in the middle of her walk?" someone else chimed in, confused.
"I've heard there are magical robes that change color on their own…" another witch mused, though even she didn't sound convinced.
"But... if the Dean in blue already said good morning to us, why would she say it again in purple?" Sylph asked, raising the obvious question.
"Maybe she's just really polite?" Vasida shrugged, trying to rationalize it.
"Sure, that must be it!" someone agreed, though the logic was shaky at best. "I mean, she is the Dean. She can probably walk faster than us, right?"
The witches, sensing no other immediate explanation, nodded in agreement, convincing themselves that it was just a strange coincidence. They steadied their nerves and continued on toward the West Tower, though the unsettling feeling lingered.
The West Tower loomed above them as they climbed the narrow, winding stairs. By the time they reached the top floor, they were breathless, but eager to reach the classroom. Just as they were about to enter, a black-robed figure swept in from the balcony, riding a broomstick that shimmered as it flew.
"Good morning, little witches!" the figure called out warmly.
The witches froze in their tracks. "Dean…? Dean Amisha? Again?"
This time, their minds were spinning. There was absolutely no way the Dean could have circled through the castle, appeared in different robes, and now flown in from the west, all in such a short time.
"She can't be playing tricks on us, can she?" Lyra whispered. "Witches don't have twins... or triplets, do they?"
Before the little witches could even piece together an explanation, Ms. Amisha, now dressed in black, dismounted her broom and strolled over, her expression amused. "Ah! I see you've met the other two of me already!" she said with a knowing grin as she set the broom carefully in a rack.
The witches blinked in confusion. "The… other two?" Vasida asked, her voice a mix of astonishment and curiosity.
Amisha laughed softly. "Don't be alarmed. You'll see a few more of me around the academy. They're all me, just… in different forms." She casually waved her hand, as if this were the most normal thing in the world. "Now come along! Class is about to start, and I'd hate for you to miss your first day!"
The witches, still buzzing with a million questions, followed her into the classroom, their minds racing with thoughts of how their Dean; one person, could be in so many places at once.
The little witches entered the classroom, following Dean Amisha with a mix of awe and curiosity. The room was vast, with rows of tiered seating, each row filled with large, well-crafted desks and chairs. There were thirty desks in total, arranged in neat rows of six, five rows deep. The air was filled with the scent of old parchment and faint traces of magic.
Amisha gave a flick of her wand, and the first three sets of desks in the front row floated into the air, neatly disappearing into a side door with a quiet whoosh. She then moved the remaining desks in the front row to the center, aligning them perfectly. "Alright, everyone! Take your seats. You'll be having your alchemy classes here until the end of the third grade."
The witches exchanged glances, instinctively leaving the three front-row seats for Lyra, Vasida, and Sylph. It was an unspoken rule among the students that the front was reserved for those who were most talented, and Lyra, known for her exceptional abilities, naturally took the middle seat. Vasida settled in on her left, and Sylph took the right.
Despite the seating arrangements, all eyes remained glued to the Dean. Amisha, calm and composed, had finished rearranging the classroom with ease. She now walked over to a door behind the podium, pulling out a stack of parchment and other strange materials, some of which the witches couldn't even recognize. She laid them out, speaking casually as she introduced them to the space.
"Half of the West Tower is dedicated to alchemy classrooms, just like this one. The other half is a warehouse for low-level magic materials. Should you ever need any materials, you'll find them in the materials warehouse on the east side of the tower. Each floor has an entrance, and for this top floor, the entrance is right over there," she explained, pointing to a hidden door near the back.
The little witches were eager to listen, but curiosity was bubbling over. Cheryl, unable to hold back any longer, finally blurted out, "Dean! How... how did you appear in three different places this morning?"
Amisha paused for a moment, a sly smile tugging at the corners of her lips as she eyed the eager faces of the witches. "That, my dear witches, is a secret. Ask me again on the day of your graduation, and perhaps I'll tell you."
The witches groaned in unison, frustrated but intrigued by the mystery. Before they could protest further, a bell chimed, filling the room with a soft, melodic sound. It was perfectly timed, not a second too soon or too late.
Amisha stood up, brushing off her robe. "Alright! It's ten o'clock, and that means class is about to begin."
The witches exchanged glances. It was only their fourth day at the academy, and already they were encountering riddles upon riddles. Lyra thought back to something Senior Lilith had said: "Don't be startled if you find things are a bit… unusual around here." She smiled to herself, understanding now what Lilith meant. Seeing three Deans in one morning? Yeah, that would do it.
But there was no more time for reflection as Amisha had already begun her lecture. She sat in a high-backed chair on the podium, one leg crossed over the other, her posture relaxed yet commanding.
"When you saw your class schedules on Friday night, you might have wondered why all your lessons were introductory alchemy," she began, her voice calm but firm. The witches leaned in, listening intently.
"That's because, to begin learning magic; truly learning it, in both theory and practice, you need two essential things. One is the Witch's Book, a magical tome that will accompany you throughout your life. The other is a magic wand, an indispensable tool for spellcasting."
Amisha's gaze swept over the class, ensuring they were following. "The Witch's Book, the magic wand, and eventually the flying broom that you'll learn about later; these three items are to witches what a sorcerer's staff is to them. They are special magical tools, only controllable by witches. Every one of you will use them not only in your studies but also in your daily lives. Therefore, every witch must master the crafting of these three items, whether or not she specializes in alchemy."
The little witches listened with growing excitement. It was starting to dawn on them how important these lessons were. Amisha continued, "Your witch's book, your wand, and your broom can be lost or damaged over time. But the knowledge to craft them will stay with you, always."
Lyra's mind raced. So we make our own? She had never thought about where witches got their magical tools. They didn't just appear out of thin air. She thought of the witches of old, those who escaped hardship and had no access to magic shops. They must have crafted everything themselves.
Amisha smiled, sensing the shift in the room. "This week, in our introductory alchemy class, you will begin learning how to craft your very own Witch's Book and wand."
A collective murmurs through the class. The witches were no longer just students, they were about to become creators of magic themselves.