Smile Magic
The blood-moon ritual had begun. Beneath it, an ancient coven, a family, gathered at a forbidden ritual site. Young Olena knew the site was forbidden. Her family had told her so. She even knew what ‘forbidden’ meant. She just didn’t know why everyone was so happy about breaking its meaning.
Olena was different from her family. She wasn’t special. Sure, she knew all the family spells and even knew their ancient language, but that was it. As they all danced around a fire and sang in the ancient tongue. She couldn’t play in the ritual, ‘Too little,’ they had said, but she wondered if it was also because she was different. She didn’t have everyone’s dark hair and sunken eyes. Her hair was red, her eyes green, both of which were as bright as her smile. She liked smiling, and that made her different, too. Everyone else only smiled when it was time for this ritual. And now that it was here, she finally felt like they were all a family—everyone smiling on the same day.
Her family was bringing someone here from somewhere else. Someone special from some next place. The fire grew crimson, but would soon become violet, the flames licking logs configured into a pentagram. Still, at least they let her stay close by, even close enough to be within the standing stones that stood up all around them. It’s not that she had anything against the haunted forest outside of the stones; she just wouldn’t feel as involved out there. As her family’s shadows passed over her, she smiled and squatted, her elbows on her knees, her fists against her aching cheeks, which were ready to cover her mouth if she got too excited. But for now, she was being quiet just like she was supposed to.
Olena wasn’t special like they had hoped. On the day she was born, there hadn’t been any favorable signs such as a car wreck, a bird crashing through a window, or a tree falling on a house. It hadn’t even been night. Nope, she was born at five o’clock on a Friday—apparently, the most celebrated time for nearly everyone else. It had something to do with workdays and weekends, but she didn’t know what that was all about.
As they danced, she knew the words that they sang—‘Drip. Drip. Drip.’ and ‘Fill. Fill. Fill.’ Olena knew better songs, but they really liked this one. She didn’t mind as long as it made them happy. Each used a ritual dagger, each cutting a held-animal sacrifice so that its blood dripped into the fire, which brought out more purple flame like they wanted.
While Olena had the family magic, she also had this other thing. A curious thing that no one knew what to make of. It was a spirit. Well, sort of. Everyone had familiars. Some had cats or bats or rats. She was glad she didn’t have any of those. It’s not that she had anything against them. But she didn’t have anything for them either, nor they for her.
Her familiar was there, but sometimes he wasn’t. And he only ever showed up when it was time for magic. He was a floating pillar. Or at least, the ghost of one. His name was Vernost. She liked that name, and since Vernost didn’t complain, she supposed he liked it too.
The blood moon arrived—her family's song rising into a crescendo!
And then...
The blood moon!
It...
It...
...receded, Earth’s shadow sliding across to soon depart the moon’s surface.
Her family’s mood sank.
Her mom fell to her knees and sobbed.
Olena had never seen her momma cry. She knew what it meant. She herself had cried plenty, but she thought it was something else that only she could do—something else that made her different. And now that she had shared smiles, had finally felt like part of the family...she wouldn’t share crying with them, too.
She stood.
Vernost was there—floating at her side. He slowly rotated while orbiting her. He was tall like cubes stacked atop one another. And he was here because he knew it was time for magic—a spell her family didn’t know. When she looked at him, her eyes began glowing gold, his edges tracing by the same color. His revolution reversed, as did his orbit.
As her light grew brighter, Vernost’s orbit blurring and stirring wind around her, it was as if she had stepped into a wind tunnel, the air lifting her toes from the ground as her eyes widened, her gaze turning up to the moon.
The world’s shadow had fallen off the moon, but returned, sliding back across before departing the opposite side.
Then, Vernost slowed down again, her feet settling to the ground as his revolution slowed and the gold withdrew. When Vernost wasn’t here anymore, all of her family were back where they were before the dance, their daggers and uncut sacrifices in their hands. Orange firelight glowed and flickered between them as everyone looked at their hands, then to her, their expressions of...not smiles, but not cries either. It was a new look. Another thing Olena thought was only hers—a smile in the eyes, a thing a book told her was something called ‘hope.’
Olena renewed her smile. “You can win this time,” she said. “So, everyone, do your best!”
Slowly, everyone seemed to understand. Slowly, each prepared to begin again. And slowly, each of them smiled anew.
[WP] There are 2 types of magic users. The naturals who inherited magical attunement by their blood. And the chosen who magic itself has given powers. You were born to a magical bloodline but have also been given several powers none of your family has.
