The Perfect Spell.
A short story about a little witch's big adventure.
Written by Ita. Editing by Chu. Big thanks to everyone who helped, encouraged, and threatened.
<a href="https://twitter.com/ia_quillthing" target="_blank">Me on twitter.</a>
<a href="https://twitter.com/sdamned" target="_blank">Chu on twitter.</a>
<a href="http://philome.la/twitakare" target="_blank">My other twines.</a>
[[Start.]]
(set: $door = 0)(set: $lightcheck = "false")(set: $colourcheck = "false")(set: $soundcheck = "false")(set: $shapecheck = "false")(set: $lightchoice = 0)(set: $colourchoice = 0)(set: $soundchoice = 0)(set: $shapechoice = 0)(set: $placesvisited = 0)The knock was so politely quiet that Mori wasn’t sure he’d heard it. He cocked an ear, tilting his head slightly. The restless movement on the other side of the door caused the floorboards to squeak, ever so gently. It was the only sound in the calmness of dawn, apart from the distant calls of birds.
“Come in.” He put his brush down, neatly placing the lid back on the ink pot. The door creaked, and the muted tapping of padded feet on the wooden floor made its way up behind his chair.
“Dad?”
“Yes?”
There was a moment of silence. Mori could sense the awkward fiddling happening behind his back. He sighed, and leant back in his chair, patting his lap. Right on cue, Christopher slunk around the chair and hoisted himself up into Mori’s lap, curling slightly and leaning back against his father's stomach.
Oooph. Mori tried not to visibly wince. The child was not so small anymore, even if he had been a tiny kit not so many years ago.
The boy was not so good with speaking, sometimes, so Mori let his son settle in his lap as he leant forward again, unstopping the ink and starting a new sheet. It would be hard to focus enough to produce a proper talisman with the boy squirming in his lap, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t sketch out a rough draft of the next one. It would give his son time to collect his thoughts.
Mori was considering what kind of blessing would best suit a place of business when Chris spoke.
“The… Um, the festival is tonight.”
“It is.” Mori murmured, carefully drawing the kanji which emphasised prosperity, choosing it over protection. He could wait, his son would get to the point when he felt comfortable and not before.
“So… I was thinking. Mum’s on the committee, right?”
“Your mother has been working very hard with the council to get everything ready in time.”
“Yeah…”
“Now you see why I normally let her cook, yes?”
“Ahhh… It wasn’t that bad, Dad…”
Mori chuckled to himself. “You don’t need to protect my feelings. When you get to my age, you learn to accept that you can’t be good at everything. So, the festival?” He tried to gently steer back on topic.
“Oh, um… I was just, you know, wondering…” Chris fiddled with his shirt hem as he often did when he was searching for words, eyes fixed on his father’s brush as it slowly moved on the paper. “Do you think she might be able to let me help?”
“Oh, I’m sure she would appreciate any help you could give. What did you have in mind?”
“I… I wanted to help with the… The fireworks.”
“I don’t think you’re old enough to handle explosives, even if you barely fit in my lap anymore.”
“Well yeah! I meant…” Chris shifted, turning in Mori’s lap to look up at his father with wide, glistening eyes. “I wanna do a spell!”
Mori raised an eyebrow. “You do?”
“Yeah! Like, a fireworks spell. That would be safe, right?”
“I suppose, provided you were to prepare properly. Your studies in magic have been progressing nicely. But…”
Mori considered his son: puppy-eyes and fragile hope with the oversized ears of adolescence and the very beginnings of his adult fur patterns.
“...Are you sure you’re ready?”
Chris nodded enthusiastically, giving a tiny “Mmm!” of affirmation. Mori smiled.
“Alright. I’ll call your mother and let her know that you want to perform tonight. I’m sure that the council will tolerate this small amount of nepotism. After all, it will be your first act as an official apprentice witch!”
The way his son’s face lit up filled Mori with warmth.
[[He just hoped that everything would be okay.->Narration.]]Christopher Brooks-Hiki, son of the ancient kitsune Moritoshi Hiki, was something of an outlier. Born and raised in the new country, he took after his father in species, but differed in his preferred style of magic. From very early on, Chris had insisted that he would become, not a kitsune like his father, but a witch.
Despite some gentle attempts to correct him, Chris was adamant, and it soon became clear that no one knew him as well as he knew himself, at least as far as magic was concerned. As he grew older, he showed little interest or ability with his father’s traditional charms and talismans, and a prodigious ability with the basic techniques of ingredient preperation and spellcasting via wand.
After months of patient explanations and interviews, a considerable campaign of letters written by his mother, and some personal convincing of the local association by his father, Chris was finally accepted as an apprentice by the witches’ association.
To celebrate, on Chris’s 9th birthday, he received what would become one of his most treasured possessions: an official witch’s uniform. Once he had it, Chris refused to, and indeed became incapable of using magic unless he was wearing it. His father was worried about it becoming a crutch, but it made his son happy. That was more important.
Up until now, Chris had never worn his witch’s attire outside of the house. He was a gentle and sensitive boy, well aware that not everyone would be so supportive as his parents, but the Twilight Festival was simply too good an opportunity to pass up.
Besides, if not now...
[[When?->Front door.]]When indeed?
Chris fussed with his boot, carefully avoiding the hem of his dress as he slipped it on and tied the laces with a neat bow. He tried to ignore the way his fingers were trembling, the restless twitching of his tail out its hole in the back of his dress, or the tumbling his stomach was doing. He was excited, he was nervous, he wanted to call the whole thing off and go hide in his room for the rest of the day, but an apprentice witch would be brave, so Chris was going to be brave.
He got to his feet, smoothed the dark blue dress down so that it was perfect, and snatched the broad brimmed, pointy hat from the stand by the door. It had two holes cut into the brim, which he carefully aligned with his pointed ears as he tugged it firmly onto his head. He wiggled both ears to test the fit, and then examined himself in the mirror by the door.
A young fox-boy with sparkling eyes stared back at him. Chris turned his head this way and that, and span in a little circle to admire the way the fabric spun and shifted around him. His reflection smiled back at him, his grin almost as wide as the brim of his oversized hat.
Good. Perfect. He took his key from one of the hooks below the mirror and put it into the pouch on his belt, next to the holster for his wand. Not that he’d need the key; Dad would be home all day, but it was important for an apprentice witch to be prepared.
Chris considered the door knob.
(link: "There was no time like the present, he supposed.")[(set: $door to "open")(goto: "Meet Rachel.")]
(link: "...Perhaps it wasn’t too late to call the whole thing off.")[(set: $door to "closed")(goto: "Meet Rachel.")](if: $door is "open")[He took a deep breath, steeled himself, and turned the knob, pulling the door open and wincing at the bright light of morning.
“I was wondering if you were ever going to actually come out.”
Chris yelped, reflexively slamming the door shut. Outside, the trilling laughter of Rachel Willis caused his tail to lash back and forth in embarrassment.](else:)[Chris groaned in frustration with himself as he pulled his hand away from the doorknob. Why was this so hard? He'd talked himself away from the front door a dozen times, and he always ended up back here anyway!
Chris wanted this. He wanted it so badly! But it was difficult to not be nervous and afraid. He took a deep, calming breath as he turned to go investigate the kitchen instead. Perhaps some of dad's sencha would steel his nerves. He'd give it half an hour and then try again. He wasn't about to let a stupid door stand between him and his dream, not this time!
Chris's train of thought was interrupted by a knock on the door. Conditioned as he was by years of his father ordering magical supplies and curiosities for delivery, Chris turned and opened the door, expecting to see Ms. Morris, the local courier.
He was greeted, not by the adult he was expecting, but by the ever widening grin of Rachel Willis. Chris started, looked down at his dress, back up at her, and then slammed the door shut. It did little to muffle her trilling laughter as he leant against the door, gritting his teeth and trying to will his tail to stop lashing back and forth from embarrasment.]
Of course she’s here. This was father’s doing, he was sure of it.
“G- Go away!” Chris stammered, furiously smoothing down the startled floof on his cheeks and arms.
“Hmmm... Nah. Come on, I wanna get a proper look at Addersfield’s first apprentice witch in 40 years!”
Chris grit his teeth. Apprentice witch. Brave. Yada yada. He could do this, teasing or no. He forced himself to take a deep breath, shook himself, and reopened the door. The varnished wood was replaced by Rachel’s gap-toothed, befreckled, pigtail-framed grin. She seemed to be enjoying herself immensely.
“Cute.”
Chris’s ears burned. He wished that they didn’t fold back like that when he was embarrassed, but they had traitorous minds of their own. “Mmmn.”
“You are, though!” When Chris pouted, she rolled her eyes. “Oh, don’t be like that. Your dad asked me to keep an eye on you today, alright?”
“I don’t need your help! I’m fine on my own.”
“Then you’ll be just as fine with me tagging along.”
And that was apparently that. No amount of reading of tomes about magic and witches had uncovered the secret of how girls were able to do that, but Chris was unwilling to give in without a fight. “B-but-!”
“No buts! Your dad said so.”
“But-!”
“What did I just say? Come on, I’ve got like five people who said they’d buy me ice cream if I managed to get you to come over with your dress on! I’ll split it with ya, 50-50!”
“W-wait, what? Who?”
“Everyone, silly!” Rachel reached out and snached Chris’s hand, pulling him out the door. It was all Chris could do to shut it behind him as she dragged him down to the mailbox and out onto the street, heading for the center of town.
“E-everyone?!”
“Yeah! Your mum made a big announcement this morning, everyone’s really excited to see you!”
“What!?” Chris began to pull his hand, trying to wrench it free of her grip. “N-n-no way! Uh-uh, f-forget it, I-I-I’m going back home!”
“Oh, don’t be a big baby about it! Everyone’s happy for you, moron!”
Chris stumbled to a halt, despite Rachel’s best dragging efforts. “...Happy?”
“Yeah!” Rachel turned around and looked at him like he was being deliberately slow to antagonise her. “Everyone knows a town’s ‘sposed to have a witch, and foxes are like, super good at magic, so havin’ you as a witch will also be super good! Duh! Witches are supposed to be smart, you know.”
“Oh…” Chris looked down at his feet, his free hand curling into the fabric of his witch dress. The familiar feeling of regret, that this was all a terrible idea and he was stupid for having had it, was beginning to well up in his chest. “Rachel, I, um… I don’t think it’s as simple as that, for a lot of people…”
“Huh?” She looked like she had honestly never considered that being a witch would be more complicated that it seemed. “You mean… ‘Cause you’re a fox?”
“What? No! ...Well, maybe a little, I couldn’t find any references to fox witches in any of the books, but that’s not the point! I mean, like, b-because I’m… You know, a boy.”
She cocked her head. “That’s your big problem?”
“W-well, I mean… That’s what they kept saying…”
“Well whoever they are, they’re stupid. You look better in that dress than I’ve ever looked in any dress, and it doesn’t matter at all if a witch is a boy or a girl, so long as they can do magic and blow stuff up and turn princes into frogs ‘n whatever! And you’ll be real good at that!”
Again, it seemed that that was that.
“‘Sides.” Rachel added, almost as an afterthought. “If you can be a witch, that means I can be a warlock. That would be cool, me ‘n my flying grimorere, wandering around doin’ stuff.”
“Grimoire.” Chris corrected her prononciation automatically. “...You really think I’ll be good at being a witch?”
“Yeah! You’ve been doing magic all the time since you were little, right? Like that one time you sneezed while smelling a flower and turned it into a big ol’ tree? And we all know you’ve been practicing at home.”
“Who told you about that?”
“No one told anyone! We can all see the flashes and lights and stuff coming from your house at night, all the way across town!”
Chris made a mental note to ask his parents for heavier curtains.
“So we’re all super excited to see what you’ve been working on! Fireworks, right?”
“Huh? O-oh, yeah. Fireworks spell. I gotta get, um…” Chris fumbled at his belt, digging around in the pouch and bringing out a brand new notebook, untouched but for some shaky writing on the very first page. “Let’s see...”
‘A magic firework is comprised of light, colour, sound, shape, and feel. It is an expression of the caster’s innermost soul, made up of the reagents gathered and tempered by the power of the caster to produce a spectacle more than the sum of its parts.’
“Wow...” Rachel blinked at Chris’s flawless recital. “What’s a reagent?”
“It’s a, you know, a thing. Stuff, for making a spell with. You use it when you do the magic.”
“And you need…?”
“Well, that’s what I gotta find out! I have to find some stuff to use as reagents, stuff that will make the spell special and unique to Addersfield.”
“So that means you gotta gather five things then.”
“I guess… Something to make the light, something to give it a colour, something for it to sound like, something that has a shape for it to be, and something to give it a feeling!”
“That’s a lotta stuff.”
Chris nodded, noting with a small amount of pleasure that the gesture caused the tip of his pointed hat to flop lightly at the upper limits of his vision. “Mmn. That’s why I got up early, I knew I’d have to look all around!”
“Well, what are we waiting for then?” Rachel gestured for him to follow, and started to walk again, heading towards town. Chris sighed softly, starting after her. Everything made sense when he was thinking about the spell. It was just the other moments that made him feel all twisted up inside.
“And no more huffing and sighing all dramatic like! Witches are aloof and wise, you know.”
“I-I know that! I’m still learning, remember?”
“Learn fast, then! ...And also, where are we going?”
Huh. Good question, actually. Chris considered his options. He had a pretty good idea where to go for the Light, the Colour, the Sound, and the Shape, but the Feel had yet to present an obvious solution to his mind. He supposed it would turn up, eventually.
[[Feelings often did, usually when you least expected them.->Hub.]](if: $placesvisited is 0)[The warm light of early morning cast everything around the two of them in a soft pastel as Chris considered where he would go first. He checked the list in his notebook, brow furrowing as he tried to decide which place was closest.](else-if: $placesvisited is 1)[Morning tea was some fruit and water, a walking meal. Chris fought the urge to wipe his face on his sleeve as he checked his notebook, trying to decide where to go next.](else-if: $placesvisited is 2)[The two of them sat in the shade under one of the trees, enjoying a moment out of the sun. Chris consulted his notebook yet again, wondering which of the items left was closer.](else-if: $placesvisited is 3)[The shadows were starting to noticably lengthen. Chris was beginning to worry that he'd run out of time before the Feel presented itself. He tried not to worry about it, focusing on the other thing left on the list.](else-if: $placesvisited is 4)[(goto: "Feel.")](else:)[Oops. Something's broken.]
(if: $lightcheck is "false")[(link: "Light.")[(set: $lightcheck to "true", $placesvisited to it+1)(goto: "Light.")]](else:)[<strike>Light.</strike>]
(if: $colourcheck is "false")[(link: "Colour.")[(set: $colourcheck to "true", $placesvisited to it+1)(goto: "Colour.")]](else:)[<strike>Colour.</strike>]
(if: $soundcheck is "false")[(link: "Sound.")[(set: $soundcheck to "true", $placesvisited to it+1)(goto: "Sound.")]](else:)[<strike>Sound.</strike>]
(if: $shapecheck is "false")[(link: "Shape.")[(set: $shapecheck to "true", $placesvisited to it+1)(goto: "Shape.")]](else:)[<strike>Shape.</strike>]
Feel?(if: $placesvisited is 1)[???](else-if: $placesvisited is 2)[????!?](else-if: $placesvisited is 3)[????!?!!!]“The town square? What are we gonna find here?”
“I’ll tell you in a minute.”
Chris peeked around the corner, observing the open space. At this time of day, it was pretty empty. Just a few people going about their daily business and walking past on their way from somewhere to somewhere. Not deserted, unfortunately.
Rachel leaned around Chris’s shoulder, raising an eyebrow at the nothing he was intently studying. “Why you hidin’ like that?”
“I’m not hiding! I’m just, you know, scoping it out.”
“Waiting for no one to be around, you mean.”
“No! …Maybe. Listen, you can see this hat from a long way away, alright? My aunt’s around town somewhere today, and she’s been trying to get a photo of me in uniform since I got it. I don't intend to furnish her with blackmail material.”
“You’re worried about the paparazzi? Aren’t you gonna perform for everyone this evening? Or are you planning on casting the spell from inside a big sack?”
“I know! I know. Look. I’m working my way up to it, okay? Just give me some time, I’m still a little…”
“Uncomfortable?”
“Nervous.”
“Aren’t those the same?”
“No! Wearing this is like… The only time I feel comfortable.”
“Hmm.” Rachel crossed her arms and rested her chin in her hand, regarding Chris with a critical eye.
“What?”
“I changed my mind. You’re REALLY cute.”
“Oh-!” Chris cast around in his mind for the harshest curse word he knew. “B-bugger off!”
“You know, I used to think it was weird that you couldn’t blush on account of all the hair but your ears do all that work instead!”
“Nnyah!” Chris threw his arms up and stormed out into the town square. Girls were impossible. Spells made much more sense.
Out of the corner of his eye, Chris spotted one of the passers-by do a double take. They didn’t stop, they just kept walking. No one else seemed to notice him, or at least didn’t make a big deal out of it.
Rachel managed to stifle her giggles and catch up as Chris approached the water fountain. “Alright, alright, I’m sorry for teasing. It’s just so much fun, is all!”
“Jerk. Now, help me get a good angle on the mural.”
The mural. The cultural center of the town, a big stone pillar with a bunch of stained glass laid into it, making up the town’s signet. It overlooked the ‘fountain’, which was actually just a bunch of water jets laid in an overlapping double spiral, set in concrete. The jets sprayed in a variety of different patterns, and then the water drained away to be used again. Come the height of summer, every kid in town would be here to get wet and cool off, but no one was in the mood to get drenched at the moment. So much the better.
“The mural?”
“Yeah. I figured, what kinda light is more “Addersfield” than the light shining through the glass seal?”
“That’s an ingredient?!”
“Yeah!”
“How are you supposed to take a piece of it? Doesn’t light go like, really super fast or somethin’?”
“It does, which is why I was gonna put some of it into… This!” Chris fished around in his pouch and produced a small piece of clear glass, smooth and rounded. “I figure I’ll put this in the light and charge it up for a sec, and then keep it in the dark until I use it!”
“Oh, cool! That makes sense, I guess.”
The two of them wandered over to the pillar, passing by the jetting water of the fountain. Chris walked around to the shadow it was casting, squinting up to look at the warm, diffuse light shining through the glass that was set in the stone, all different colours. It was soft, gentle, glowing, like the spirit of the town. Just right.
“Hang on a sec!” Rachel stuck her head around the pillar. “Before you scoop up that light or whatever, look at this!”
Bemused, Chris followed her back around the pillar. She gestured at the fountain, and right on cue, all the jets went off at once.
“It’s all sparkly! The light’s dancing in the water as it flies! That’s the sort of thing you’re looking for, right?”
Chris tilted his head, causing Rachel to have to duck to avoid the bobbing point of his hat as he squinted and studied the light. It was a lot more energetic, that’s for sure. Adventurous. Bold, even. The water split the light, a rainbow shining out for a moment every time it caught.
“Hmm. Actually, they’re both pretty good!”
“Awesome!” Rachel smiled, happy to be able to contribute.
“I suppose I could take some of the water from the fountain instead… But I only need one source of light.”
“Well, which one are you gonna choose, then?”
(link: "The Glass.")[(set: $lightchoice to "glass")(goto: "Hub.")]
(link: "The Water.")[(set: $lightchoice to "water")(goto: "Hub.")]The park in the middle of town was more like a grass field with a few trees at the edges, big enough for a ball game at a stretch. Chris wasn’t much for sports, but he could appreciate watching them. The games themselves were pretty interesting with their rulesets and nuances, once you took out the part where you had to run until your limbs ached and it hurt to breathe.
Come festival time, though, and every other sunday besides, the park became a market, bustling with stalls. Some people were already ready to sell, yelling at the occasional passerby to buy a trinket or snack. The festival usually brought a few tourists to town, and some of them were already walking around. Not exactly a crowd, but enough people that Chris had to take a deep breath and ball up his hands into fists before he could determinedly march out of the shade provided by the trees and into the lines of tables and tents, Rachel tagging along behind.
“Oh, pretty!” Rachel exclaimed, ogling over some locally made leatherwork with patterns and designs worked into the material. “I need a new wallet! I don’t think I can afford that, though…”
The person running the table appeared, summoned by the universal magic that caused shopkeepers to know exactly when a child was within snatching distance of unsecured merchandise, and shooed Rachel away from the table. She stuck her tongue out at them, and then skipped to catch back up to Chris before the swaying point of his hat disappeared behind a cluster of people. She noted that one of them, an out-of-towner she didn’t recognise, was looking after Chris with a smile. Not the bad kind; they looked happy to see him. Good. Chris’s dad had said to look out for him. He also told her to not hit anyone, but she knew adults had to say stuff like that because they were adults, and took it as a general guideline more than a rule.
“Wait up!”
“Keep up! I’m not here to shop!”
“Really? I saw a table that had those cards you like to collect, actually!”
Chris’s ear flicked and he half turned, and then stopped himself. “W-well, maybe we can do a little shopping later. But right now, I have to go see Mr. Stanton!”
“Stanton? ...Oh! The fruit man! I see.”
“Yeah. Where better to find a colour than the fruit and veg place, right?”
“Clever.” Rachel caught up, settling into a pace that matched Chris’s as they walked along. “You might be proper witch material after all.”
Chris placed both hands behind his back and tried to pretend that he hadn’t noticed the compliment, an affectation totally ruined by his rapidly wagging tail. In the distance, the low rumble of a familiar voice boomed out over the tops of the people wandering the market.
“Fresh! Get em’ while they’re fresh! Straight off of the orchard and onto the table, don’t be shy! Best apples of the season, no doubt about it! Fruit n’ veg, all natural, fresh as can be! Fresh!”
The way he shouted ‘Fresh’, it sounded like a battle cry.
“You won’t find better produce this side of the river, I guarantee it! Good for the body and the soul, home grown and as fresh as can be! Come an-- Hang on a minute! Is that you, Christopher?”
“Yes, Mr. Stanton.”
“I don’t believe it!” The large man, all wiry hair and dirty apron, crouched down and squinted at the pair of them. He dropped down a register, changing from Booming Giant to merely Loud. “And Miss Willus as well! Are you the young witch’s bodyguard today? Or perhaps his familiar!” He laughed at his own joke, a sound not unlike a bark, or perhaps a series of small explosions.
“I’m just hanging around. Someone’s gotta look after Chris, you know?”
“Too true! Although I’m sure Addersfield’s Official Apprentice Witch doesn’t need any help!”
“That’s right!” Chris nodded, his face as severe as he could make it. “In fact, I’m here on official business! That’s why I’m wearing the uniform.”
“I’d heard! Your mother was so proud! She said you were going to put on a show for everyone!”
“Mmm!”
“So!” He clapped his giant hands together sharply. “What can a humble grocer such as myself do to help?”
“Colour!” Rachel interjected, eager to share the answer. “We need a colour, for the spell!”
“Y-yeah!” Chris glared at Rachel for a second, and then shook himself, rallying. “Something grown here, to give the spell a colour of Addersfield.”
“My boy!” He clapped a hand down on Chris’s shoulder, causing him to nearly topple over. “Have you ever come to the right place! Everything I sell is grown right here! Or, you know, a little way down the road. Regardless! Anything I have that catches your eye, you can have it! ...For a reasonable price!”
“What?!” Rachel exploded. “Months of waiting for him to be ready to go outside as a witch and you’re gonna charge him?!”
“It’s not a charity, young miss!”
“It’s okay!” Chris put a hand on Rachel’s shoulder, stifling whatever violence was bubbling up inside of her. “I knew I’d have to pay, I budgeted for this.”
“Foresight becoming of a witch, my boy! Now, which of my wares strikes your fancy?”
As the grocer got to his feet, Chris stalked in between the tables, inspecting the produce with a critical squint and scratching the underside of his jaw thoughtfully. He didn’t have a traditional chin to rest on his hand, but such gestures could be adapted to meet the needs of the more vulpinely inclined.
Apples, pears, bananas, a big old heap of blueberries. All strong choices.
“Hmmm… What do you know about colours, Mr. Stanton?”
“I know enough, Master Witch-to-be! And please, call me Ron.”
Chris tried not to openly beam at the suggestion that as a witch, he was the adult’s equal, and instead pointed to the table. “The um, the apples are a good red colour!”
“Ah, red! The colour of love, and passion! A fine choice, if I do say so myself.”
“Oh, uh, I haven’t um, chosen yet. I was just asking!”
“I see! And the others?”
“Well, what about these pears?” Chris picked one up, turning it over in his hand. “This is a nice green!”
“Green’s the colour of strength, my boy! Nature, and the earth.”
“Right. How about those blueberries?”
“Knowledge! Everyone knows that blue’s the colour of knowledge and wisdom, and the deep blue sky!”
“Uh huh…” The man had an answer for everything, it seemed. Chris wondered how much time he had spent thinking about this in his spare time. “What about the bananas?”
“Ah! Yellow! Yellow is… Uh… Well.”
“Happiness.”
Chris and the grocer both turned to look at Rachel, who blushed and turned up her nose.
“Happiness?”
“Y-yeah! You know, yellow! Like a sunbeam, warm and stuff. Light. Happiness.”
The grocer nodded solemnly. “Hmm! Too right, young miss. Wise beyond her years, that one. Best to keep an eye on her, lest she beat you to being a qualified witch!”
“Nuh uh! I’m gonna be a warlock!”
The grocer put his head back and let another explosion of laughter startle a bird in the nearby tree. “And why not, indeed! So, Master Witch, what will it be?”
(link: "An Apple.")[(set: $colourchoice to "red")(goto: "Hub.")]
(link: "A Pear.")[(set: $colourchoice to "green")(goto: "Hub.")]
(link: "A Banana.")[(set: $colourchoice to "yellow")(goto: "Hub.")]
(link: "Some Blueberries.")[(set: $colourchoice to "blue")(goto: "Hub.")]Chris and Rachel were walking down the street that comprised the town’s central business district when Chris stopped suddenly, his ears swiveling as he cocked his head back and forth.
“Huh? What are you doing?”
“Listening, obviously! Shh!”
Rachel decided not to argue with him over telling her to be quiet. This time. Instead, she waited while Chris made a bunch of funny faces while concentrating, and then one of his ears flicked.
“Got it. This way!” He started off down the street.
“Hey wait up! What’s it? What did you hear?”
“Music! And not just any music…” Chris came to a halt in front of one of the many cafe-restaurants that dotted the street. “Live music.”
Now Rachel could hear it as well: the sounds of someone trilling non-committally on a flute, the lower hum of a violin, and a laid back beat on some kind of drumkit.
“Ah, I get it. Sound, right?”
“Yep! I figured there’d be someone playing today. It was just a matter of wandering around until I heard ‘em!”
“Cool! ...Wait, is that a witch thing or a fox thing, though?”
Chris glanced up, his brow furrowing as he considered his large pointed ears, which flicked in unison at the thought. “Uh… Why can’t it be both?”
“That makes sense. Foxwitch. The original and the best!”
Chris beamed for a moment, before realising that he’d have to actually go inside and talk to someone if he wanted to get the Sound for the spell.
“Hey, actually. Do you wanna…”
Rachel raised an eyebrow, but didn’t interrupt.
“Uh, did you want to go in first? A-and tell me if there’s many people in there?”
“Ugh! Still?!”
“L-look! I’m warming up to it, okay! N-not everyone is ready for the original foxwitch.”
“You’re right. I should go warn them.”
“W-what?!”
“Gimme a minute, I’ll tell you when to come in.”
“Rachel, what are you-- H-hey! Rachel!”
Too late, she was gone, pushing her way through the saloon style doors and disappearing into the gloom. After a moment, the sounds of music stopped, and he could hear hushed voices in the room.
A few seconds passed. And then, a few seconds more. And then again, after that. Chris shifted his weight from one foot to the other, suddenly aware of the small amount of ache all the walking had imparted on them. He swished the dress around lightly a few times, a calming ritual he’d picked up, and then realised he was in public and put his hands down on the dress to stop it. He fiddled with the fabric, and then checked that his pouch was zipped up, and then brushed his fingertips over the wand in its holster. He adjusted his hat.
Dang it, Rachel.
“Alright, come in!”
Chris jumped at the shout, huffed at himself for being so tense, took a deep breath, and marched through the doors. As he did so, the band started up again. He didn’t recognize the song, but the were clearly playing an entrance for him.
Turns out, his first spell as an apprentice witch was going to be a hex to turn Rachel’s hair green.
Someone was sitting at the bar, looking up from their coffee. The barista, Nate King, was leaning on the bench. Rachel was sitting on one of the barstools with an ear to ear grin, and Luke, Jay, and Bailey were up on stage, playing him in. Come to think of it, everyone looked insufferably pleased with themselves. Even the patron, who Chris didn’t recognise.
And then they started clapping. Fuming at the indignity of it all, Chris made his way up to the bar and sat down, staring down at the wood of the bar with a furious intensity. The person with the coffee chuckled to themselves and turned back to their drink, and the band petered out and laughed amongst themselves good naturedly, dropping into something a little more laid back. After a few measures, Chris recognised it as one of the songs from their normal set that he actually quite liked. Some kind of musical apology, he supposed.
“Now isn’t that a sight? I scarce believed you, Raych, but a deal’s a deal, innit?”
Clunk. Chris looked up from under the brim of his hat to discover two heaped bowls of ice cream.
“No charge, I trust?” Rachel piped in.
The barista waved his hand dismissively and blew a raspberry. “Perish the thought. It’s a celebration! Good old Chris, out and about for the world to see! I didn’t think you’d ever get around to it, mate.”
Chris looked up from the ice cream and squinted at the barista. “Well, Mr. King, I was afraid that everyone would make a big song and dance about it.”
He looked around at Rachel. “Are witches supposed to be sarcastic?”
“Actually, I think they are.”
“Well, that’s good then!” He turned back to Chris. “Sorry, mate, couldn’t resist havin’ a bit of a dig, you know how it is, right? It’s only ‘cause we’re all in such a good mood about it!”
“Sure.” Despite himself, he couldn’t stay mad. They all seemed to be smiling for real, none of the leering and whispering that he was always worrying about. “...You know, this ice cream would probably be better with some of that caramel sauce.”
“Right you are, Chris. Or is it Chris the Witch now?” He asked with a grin, picking up the bottle and applying a generous squirt or three of caramel to the ice cream, as well as some crushed peanuts for good measure.
“Just Chris is fine.” Chris took a spoonful of the ice cream, minding his dress as he maneuvered it into his mouth. A quick glance over to his side confirmed that Rachel was nearly done with her bowl, tearing into it with her usual frightening gusto.
“Well, Just Chris.” He looked so pleased with himself for a moment, and then continued. “I hear you’re looking for something special to make something special with!”
“Yeah!” Rachel interrupted, coming up for air. “We’re gonna steal your band!”
“Steal it?”
“We’re not stealing it!” Chris yelped. “Um, I’m not gonna steal anything. I just need a sound, is all.”
“Oh. Easy done, aye? Boys!” Chris winced, ears flattening at the sudden shout. “Knock that off, the witch needs ya a minute!” The music petered out, and Chris turned in his chair to watch the band climb down off the stage and wander over to the bar.
“We’re still getting paid, right?” Asked Jay, the tallest of them.
“Yeah yeah.” The barista waved dismissively. “You’ll all be adequately compensated for yer time so long as you don’t waste too much of it. Now, Chris?”
“Right!” Chris started, slipping off of the stool and straightening himself out hurriedly. “Hello, um…” He looked between them, unsure with whom to start.
“Call us the Easy Beats.”
“Mr. Easy Beats, sirs! I need a sound for a spell, something that will really give it that extra oomph!”
The shortest one, Luke, piped up. “Oh, Mrs. Brewhickey was talkin’ about this earlier!”
“Brooks-Hiki.” Chris corrected his pronunciation automatically. “And is there anyone in town that Mum didn’t tell?!”
“Heh, nope.” The last of them spoke up, Bailey. “She did the whole ‘Attention everyone’ thing and everything.”
Chris let out an exasperated groan and rolled his eyes. They all found it funny, chuckling for reasons he couldn’t begin to fathom. Whatever.
“Now-now boys, daylight’s wasting.” The barista interjected. “The witch needs a sound for a spell, and youse all got instruments. Which a’ yours would be best, and why?”
“Oh, easily the fiddle.” Luke crossed his arms. “Fiddle sings, rich n’ warm. The obvious choice.”
“Like hell!” Bailey raised his fist. “Drums, lad. Deep and booming, and rumbling too. That’s what a spell needs.”
“Ignore these idiots, young witch.” Jay said, shaking his head. “It’s got to be the flute. It shines, high and clear.”
Chris furrowed his brow. “Hmm. Actually, those all sound pretty good.”
“And how are you gonna take the sound with you, huh Chris?” Rachel leaned into Chris’s peripheral vision, smeared with her ill-gotten ice cream. “You can’t just take their instruments.”
“Oh! Well, I was gonna catch some of the sound in this.” Chris unzipped his pouch and produced a small wooden box with a hinge and a lid, made of plain timber with some marks etched on the lid.
“Oi, innit that one of your dad’s music boxes?” The barista leaned over Chris, moving the point of his hat slightly to get a better look.
“Nope, this one’s mine!” Chris beamed. “I had a look at one that he made and instead of kanji, I marked it with an enchantment charm I made up! It’s… Uh, the sound isn’t as good as the ones dad makes, but it’ll do!”
“Neat! So, how do we do this, then?”
“Well, I just open this up and hold it up to the sound and it’ll remember that sound!”
“So all that’s left is to choose, then?”
“Yeah!”
“So what's it gonna be?”
(link: "The Fiddle.")[(set: $soundchoice to "string")(goto: "Hub.")]
(link: "The Flute.")[(set: $soundchoice to "flute")(goto: "Hub.")]
(link: "The Drums.")[(set: $soundchoice to "drum")(goto: "Hub.")]Town Hall. The seat of power in Addersfield. Supposedly.
“Why we gotta come here? Are you gonna see your mum?”
“Nah, she’s probably busy.” Chris leant against the silver railing going down the middle of the concrete stairs. “I figure this is a good place to find a shape for the spell, though.”
“How so?”
“Well, the town hall was designed by that famous architect, right? What’s-his-name.”
“Oh right, that guy with the face.”
“He had the… The beard.”
“He sure did. Really liked shapes, that guy. I see your logic.”
“Mmm.”
They looked at each other a moment.
“So. Are we actually gonna go up the stairs?”
“Look. My house is on the other side of town from here. It’s been a long walk, alright?”
Rachel’s eyes glinted dangerously. “Awww. Is the little witchyboy feeling tired?”
“Oh shut up. You’re tired too.”
“Am not! I’m just, you know, resting while you rest. What, you want me to run laps while I wait for your slowness?”
“No, that’s alright. Come on then, we’re almost there.”
Despite her trash talk, Rachel took a good moment before she started following Chris up the stairs. By the time they reached the top, they were both huffing, grateful of the air conditioning that awaited them behind the large glass doors.
“Why they gotta… Put the council… Up so high, anyway?” Rachel huffed.
“I think it’s an… Authority thing… You know, everyone’s gotta look up to you, so you know that you’re important.”
“If they’re so important, they should put in an escalator like at the mall.”
“When you become mayor, you can do that first.” Chris leant forward, resting his hands on his knees.
“That’ll be my campaign strategy. No more stairs!”
They both giggled, waiting out the mutual huffing and puffing until it abated. Sufficiently rested, Rachel followed Chris as he wandered into the foyer.
“Where is everyone, anyway?”
“Probably busy prepping for the festival. No one’s got time to be looking at art ‘n stuff, today.”
The room was large, with plush carpet and a handful of displays, as well as an unattended reception desk. Hallways lead away from the front desk, forming neat rows, and two sets of stairs lead up to a second floor that mirrored the first. The huge windows gave anyone who looked out of them a nice view of the town, and they let a lot of light in. Chris wandered between the various pieces of memorabilia until he found what he was looking for: the town signet. It was a big circle, all made of metal, with a bunch of spokes that came to a point in the middle. It was supposed to represent the world and Addersfield’s place in it, and how no matter how far you went, Addersfield would always be home.
It also looked a little like the wheel of a bicycle. Oh well.
If there was a shape that was more Addersfield, Chris didn’t know it. He fumbled in his pouch, bringing out his notebook and a pencil and turning to a blank page. A drawing would be fine for the spell’s purpose. He wasn’t much of an artist, but as long as it was close, it wouldn’t matter for a spell that would be being cast into the sky. At some point, Chris mused to himself, he’d have to get a camera. Maybe he could rig one with a spell so that when he took the photo, it immediately printed out a physical copy, instead of having to take the file down to the print shop and paying a dollar. Chris idly wondered why no one had ever thought of an instant print camera before as he made up a rough sketch.
“Oh, the signet! That makes sense.”
“Huh? Oh, Rachel. Where’d you wander off too?”
“I was just lookin’ around. Come check out these spirally thingies I found!”
“Alright, just let me-- Woah!” Chris held onto his hat, nearly dropping his notebook and pencil as Rachel dragged him off unceremoniously. “Rachel! You don’t gotta drag like that, I can walk fine!”
“Yeah but you’re so slow! Look, we’re here!”
Chris shook himself and straightened his attire, frowning, then looked at the display. The plaque read that these were stairs from the old post office, demolished to make way for the new one a few decades ago. The stairs themselves were made of cast iron, big and black and spiraling up in a double helix before stopping short in midair. There was a sign saying to not climb the stairs, which Chris thought was stupid. Who would climb stairs that went nowhere? He barely felt like climbing stairs even when they went somewhere he needed to be.
The council was obsessed with stairs, he decided.
“Pretty cool.” Chris nodded. “What about ‘em, though?”
“Well, you said you were looking for shapes, right? This is a shape!” Rachel looked very pleased that she was helping.
“Well, yeah! But, I was gonna use the shape of the crest, because it’s got like, meaning. What meaning does this have?”
Rachel looked thoughtful for a second. “Ummm… Well, it doesn’t really mean anything, I guess. It looks cool, though! Don’t you want your spell to look cool?”
Chris felt like this was a flawed argument, somehow, but he couldn’t deny the logic.
Which shape to use, then?
(link: "The Signet.")[(set: $shapechoice to "signet")(goto: "Hub.")]
(link: "The Stairs.")[(set: $shapechoice to "string")(goto: "Hub.")]At the base of the stairs, Chris and Rachel took a moment to sit down. Chris glared at his notebook, adding a few more frustrated exclamation points to the list. He still didn’t know what to do about the Feel, and time was nearly up.
“Augh!” Rachel huffed. “My feet hurt! And I’m hungry.”
“How are you hungry? You ate enough ice cream to kill a man.”
“Turns out, you think you want ice cream for lunch but you really kinda don’t.” Rachel looked like she both regretted her decision and would do it again in a heartbeat.
“Mmm. My feet are sore as well, though.” Chris shifted his feet, wincing lightly. He hadn’t worn these boots many times, and certainly not for this long.
Actually, he hadn’t worn any of this outfit for this long before. He’d stopped thinking about the rest of his witch’s attire long since. Or at least, stopped thinking about it constantly. It was an oddly pleasing thing, to no longer be aware of it, as though it was normal.
It would be normal. He’d make sure it became normal.
The sun was starting to get low in the sky. Had they really been at this the whole day?
Rachel was now lying on the stairs. It looked very uncomfortable, and Chris would have joined in but for not wanting to scuff his outfit. She groaned and stretched. “Nnngh. Aren’t we done yet?”
“Well…” Chris dug around in his pouch. “We have everything but the Feel reagent. I still don’t know where I’m supposed to get a feel in this town.”
“If you did get a feel, I think someone would go to jail!”
“Gross!” Chris gave Rachel a whack on the leg. “Get your mind out of the gutter!”
She giggled unrepentantly. “Really though, that's tricky. Feelings are… Kinda abstract.”
“They are. ...What am I gonna do? It’ll be twilight soon, and I won’t have a spell!”
“Eh, somethin’ll come up. Uh oh, gotta get up, someone’s coming down the stairs.”
Rachel sat up with a grunt, and Chris reached up and used the railing to haul himself to his feet. In the distance, he could hear someone familiar talking on the phone, and rapidly approaching.
“Yeah, that’s fine. I understand. I’ll call them and make sure. Uh huh. I agree completely. Yes, that’s a great idea, I’ll be sure to pass it on. Alright. Yeah, you as well. Talk to you later. Bye bye.”
“Hey, Mum.”
“Hi, darling. Just a second, I have to call Mr. Black and make sure that… He…” She blinked, and looked again at Chris, who waved.
Rachel backed up, just a little.
“Oh, my little guy!” She descended, sweeping Chris right off of his feet in a fierce hug.
“Wah! M-mum!”
“You’re just so cute though! Ohh, let me look at you.” She pulled back, looking down at the little witch she’d scooped up off the stairs. “When your father told me you wanted to perform tonight I was just so excited! But I still couldn’t believe it was happening, and now look at you! Oh, you’re so cute!”
“Mum! P-please! I’m not a little kid anymore, you know!” Chris protested weakly, well aware that Rachel was watching and taking notes.
“Oh, indulge your mother, would you?” She was just so pleased, Chris didn’t have the heart to protest further. “So, you’ve been out and about all day? Cast any spells? I might have uh, let it slip that you were intending to perform tonight, I hope I didn’t spoil the surprise. Have you had lunch? Did you drink enough water? How does it fit? Is the hat okay? I wasn’t sure if I cut the holes with enough room. Oh, you’re just… I’m so proud of you!”
Chris endured another bone-crushing squeeze before his mother finally put him down, crouching down to dust him off and fuss over his uniform.
“Ah, jeez Mum, I can do that!” She wordlessly deflected his attempts, so he got to work on her avalanche of questions instead. “We’ve been out since this morning. I’m not casting spells, I’m gathering reagents for casting a spell with. Everyone in town knew I was coming, so, thanks for that. There was no surprise to spoil, although it would have been nice to not have so many people keeping an eye out for me. You know I didn’t want people to make a big deal out of it! I’ve had a few snacks, we stopped for water a few times, it fits just fine, and the earholes are perfect. Anything else?”
She sniffed. “Maybe stop growing up so quick, if you can.”
“...Huh?”
“Don’t worry about it, hon.” She smiled, and turned to face Rachel, who waved. “Thank you so much, dear. I know it was last minute when my husband called, so I appreciate you accompanying Chris around today.”
“No problem, miss!” Rachel gave a big grin and a thumbs up. “I was ready to beat up anyone who acted like a jerk.”
“I appreciate it.” She turned back to Chris. “So, reagents, huh? That sounds like a lotta work.”
“It has been! We’ve been all over town, and we’re still missing one! I don’t know if it’s gonna be ready before sundown, I don’t even know where to look!”
“Aw, honey.” She pulled him close again and gave him another hug and an encouraging pat on the back. “You’re my crafty little kit who can’t be stopped, I know you’ll figure it out. The magic’s always been in you. Whatever it is you need, you just gotta look inside and find it.”
“That sounds like something out of a kid’s TV show, mum.”
“Deal with it.” She shifted in her hug, slightly.
“...Are you checking your phone?”
“I'm on my way over to the civic center to drive the van to the showground, darling. I’ve got a lot of things to take care of before the festival starts. Actually, I’m getting a call. You and Rachel take care, and make sure you’re at the festival before 7! Good luck, I believe in you!” She stood up, ruffled one of his ears, and answered the phone, waving as she continued off the stairs and into the deepening and lengthening shadows of the approaching sundown. “Yes hello this is Elise speaking. Oh, Mr. Black, how good of you to call!”
Rachel sauntered up next to Chris as he tried to reseat his hat again. “Mama’s boy.”
“Whatever. She’s a good mum.”
“She is. Hard worker, too.”
“Mmm.”
“We are running out of time though, so if you’re gonna come up with a solution for that last whatever thingy you need, now would be the time.”
“Actually…”
“Oh, you had an idea?”
“Kinda. I guess. I don’t think a feeling is something we’re gonna find anywhere around town. I think the feeling is something I gotta find in me, instead.”
“Oh. Yeah. I guess that’s where you usually find feelings, isn’t it?”
“Yep!”
“So what feeling are you gonna use?”
“Well… I mean, right now, I feel pretty good.”
“You do?”
“Yeah! I was really nervous today. I almost didn’t do it. Sometimes, I wish I didn’t wanna be a witch so badly.”
“What?! But being a witch is like, your thing!”
“I know, but… I’m not an idiot. I know some people don’t approve, I know it’s not like, normal or whatever for a boy to wear a dress. Sometimes I wonder if I’m just like, mixed up and wrong or something.”
“But… But that’s stupid! You’re not wrong, why would you be wrong?!”
“I know, I know! It’s just one of those dumb things you think and then you can’t get rid of.”
“Dumb is right. Witches are supposed to be confident, you know!”
“Well. I’m only an apprentice. Still learning.”
Rachel gave him a glare, but he didn’t care. He was grinning.
“I’m learning a lot though. And everyone was so nice, and happy to see me today! That goes a long way towards making that little voice be quiet. You even stopped looking at me funny every few minutes, eventually!”
“H-hey! I wasn’t looking at you funny!”
“When I saw you this morning you looked like you were gonna pee from laughing so hard.”
“Was not!” Rachel crossed her arms and hmmphed. “I was just… Happy for you. Is all. Plus, like I said, your dress is cute on you. It was just a little bit of a shock. That makes you laugh, even if you don’t mean to!”
“Yeah. And once the shock wears off, it becomes… Normal, I guess.”
“...Actually, you’re kinda right. You look normal.”
“I feel normal, too. And that makes me feel good. I guess that’s all I wanted, was for the thing I wanted to be normal. I guess I got my wish without giving up on what I wanted!”
“And that’s your feeling?”
“I guess it is.”
Rachel grabbed Chris’s hand. “Well, that’s great! Now come on!”
“Wha-Woah! Rachel! Don’t pull me on the stairs!”
“Hurry up! We don’t have a van like your mum. If we wanna make it to the festival in time we’re gonna have to run!”
[[Fortunately, they made it with time to spare.->Backstage.]]Chris had taken up residence on one of the small boxes backstage. The stage itself was set up in one end of the park. If you squinted in the gloom, you could just about make out the man on the pond, checking and rechecking the fireworks that would soon be lit. You and me both, Chris thought to himself as he sat cross-legged on the box, the reagents over his lap, going over the spell in his head for the fiftieth time as he anxiously fiddled with his wand. Muffled slightly by the heavy curtain, he could hear the murmur of the crowd. There was a click, a pop, a harsh metallic sound, and then the slightly fuzzy loudness of an amplified voice.
“Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the 106th annual Addersfield Twilight Festival!”
There was a smattering of applause.
“I’d like to thank you all for coming, including those of you from out of town. The spirit of Addersfield welcomes you all as we celebrate the season and harvest, our strong community spirit, and the promise of the future!”
Someone woo’d.
“Yes, yes, very good. Now, for the first time in a long time, I have something extra special to show you all. I’m sure you’ve heard the rumours, and I can now officially confirm that the Brooks-Hiki family’s very own Christopher will in fact be our first official apprentice witch in four decades!”
This time, the applause was a lot more energetic. Chris was certain he could hear Rachel whooping from the crowd. He took the last in a long series of calming deep breaths, and stood up. The reagents in his lap floated of their own accord as he squeezed the wand in his hand and the magic tingled inside of him. Maybe it was using his own feelings as part of the spell, or maybe it was the fact that he was about to go out on stage instead of sitting in the living room at the kotatsu, but the magic hadn’t ever felt so… Sparkly.
“Without further ado, I’d like to present Christopher the apprentice witch, with his first ever spell!”
Yes. Good. Perfect. With the crowd cheering, he pushed the curtain aside, ducking to fit his hat through the gap, and stepped out onto the stage.
[[Somewhere, in a dusty library...->Epilouge.]]An old magic tome, dog eared and cracked. The book is open to a page titled Christopher’s Greater Illumination. The passage reads:
Gather thusly: (if: $lightchoice is "glass")[A soft glow, that speaks of warmth](else:)[A sparking light, full of life]. (if: $colourchoice is "red")[Red, of passion and love](else-if: $colourchoice is "green")[Green, of strength and earth](else-if: $colourchoice is "blue")[Blue, of knowledge and sky](else:)[Yellow, of happiness and light]. (if: $soundchoice is "string")[Echoes of string, rich and warm](else-if: $soundchoice is "flute")[Echoes of tin, shining and clear](else:)[Echoes of skin, booming and deep]. (if: $shapechoice is "signet")[A circle, in the shape of home](else:)[A spiral tower, in the shape of hope]. Bind with the strength to be who you are. Become a light in the darkness, and shine for all to see.
[[The End.]]<img src="http://i.imgur.com/Ud8OH9g.jpg">
<a href="http://deijiidraws.tumblr.com/" target="_blank">Artist credit: deijiidraws on Tumblr!</a> When I saw this art I actually died.
(set: $playthroughs = it+1)Thank you for playing The Perfect Spell!
This is definitely the most elaborate twine I've yet produced. The coding and variable tracking is certainly a step up from my previous work, and the editing process was a lot more arduous! Big shout outs to anyone who helped proofread, and particularly Chu, whose redlining of my original draft was without mercy.
I was struck with the inspiration for this story all at once, and although I didn't do it as much justice as I wanted to, I managed to tell the story I wanted to tell, so I'm pretty proud of myself for that! (Even if it took me a few months longer than I was expecting.)
As always, if you enjoyed The Perfect Spell, found any typos, or just want to chat, let me know at [email protected] ! You can also follow me on twitter at @ia_quillthing , and my twines can all be found at http://philome.la/twitakare .
Don't forget to... Uh... Like comment and subscribe? Any shares you could spare would be really appreciated!
Again, thanks for reading, and always be yourself.(if: $playthroughs >1)[
This secret note is for people who played the game a second time.
You played it again? Awesome! I'm glad you liked it that much.
Just for fun, if you see this extra message, maybe let me know? I'm wondering just how many people will find this. ^_^
Oh and, between you and me? I feel like Chris's story is only just starting.]
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