Writing Wednesday - The Adventures of Anise Sweetgum - How It All Started

One Month Before

“I’ll remove the spell when he apologizes.”

The squealing of a small pig echoed through the book lined walls for the headmaster’s office.

“Outrageous!” sputtered Weston Wellington. “I object to this treatment of my son!”

“My baby,” cried his wife, Peronell, cradling a small pig in her lap, her sobs almost drowning out the squeals of the animal.

The pink pig, with its curly blonde hair, was more interested in escaping his mother’s ample lap and biting the tall, spare woman standing beside the massive desk than being consoled by what was apparently his mother. 

“Now, if everyone can settle down for a moment, I am sure we can sort it all out,” pleaded Cassius Drake.  Standing, the older male really did not want to leave the safety of being behind the desk, Especially with Anise Sweetgum, his top instructor watching him with hard green eyes, disdain for him and the situation clearly written on her face.

As headmaster of Hazelwood Academy, he was more accustomed to charming parents out of donations rather than handling any real business of running the academy. He cheerfully left actual work to his more than capable secretary. But having a student turned into a pig by one of his instructors was an issue he had to handle - whether he wanted to or not. And it had to be between one of the best teachers and witches in the kingdom and one of his richest donors.

“I want her dismissed,” Weston continued shouting. “And jailed.”

“If anyone needs to be jailed,” drawled the witch, who was actually looking very bored by the whole uproar. “All he has to do is to apologize for being a little shit and bullying and threatening a younger student.”

“My Westie would never do such a thing,” Peronell exclaimed between sobs. “He’s an angel. He doesn’t need to do all those things you say he does.”

Anise Sweetgum, Master of Tinctures, Potions and Poisons, focused her attention on Peronell. “Peronell…”

“That’s Lady Wellington to you,” Weston, the elder ground out.

Turning her head to quirk one eyebrow at him, Anise gave him a little smile. “I taught her twenty years ago. Your son is even thicker than the two of you were.”

Moving her gaze back to the sobbing woman, Anise continued, “He has pushed, hit, played mean tricks and threatened her, and through her, her family for two years now. Pushing her down the stairs because she refused to do his work any longer was my final straw.”

“We don’t know for sure Westy, huh…Weston, was the one who did it. There were several students on the stairs too,” Cassius interjected. 

With her eyes still focused on the mother and child..well, pig…Anise stated, “One…he was the only one who had any reason to hurt Amanda. Secondly, she identified him as the one who pushed her. Third…” she paused and leaned over so she was eye level with the pig, “I saw him.”

Straightening, “So I turned him into the pig he is. Now if you will excuse me, I have a class to instruct.”

Giving a nod to the headmaster, Anise Sweetgum, swept out of the room with a flurry of the robes of her master instructor status, the high-pitched squeals of a pig muffled by the closing of the heavy office door.

End of the Road

Darkness was starting to fall and despite the comfortable bed in the back of the wagon, Anise wanted nothing more than to be in a real house with a real roof over her head - and not having to wake up to a chilly morning of making her coffee over a fire.

Feeling Nigel pick up his pace, because he too wanted nothing more than a roof over his head and a warm stall, Anise looked down the small, narrow track. Ahead there was a warm glow coming from the window of a cottage. There was still enough light for her to see the white of the walls of the sturdy looking little cottage. But the fact there was a light in the window bothered her. Was this actually the missing witch’s house? Or had, for the first time she had known him, Nigel gotten the directions wrong? 

“Nonsense,” Anise said aloud. “You’re never wrong, are you?”

Picking up his pace even more, Nigel gave what could only be described as a disgusted snort as he leaned into the harness a bit more. Nigel had already made his dissatisfaction of this journey away from his comfortable stall at the academy well known. In fact, Anise was praying there was actually a stable where they were going, otherwise, Nigel might just hightail it back to the academy without her.

Anise sighed as the cottage came closer. No, going back to the academy wasn’t an option. It had taken several days, but she had finally relented and reversed the spell which had turned Weston Wellington the Third into a pig. However, she was now persona non grata - parents were not very happy about students being transformed into animals regardless of what they had done. Plus the Wellington family donated a lot of funds to the coffers, something Cassius Drake, as the headmaster, was not willing to do without. Therefore, for the first time in over forty years, she was no longer at Hazelwood.

“I guess it could be worse,” she said, straightening her spine on the wooden seat. She was so hoping the cottage wasn’t in too bad of a state of disrepair. Nigel gave another snort and moments later they entered the clearing where the cottage stood.

Nigel came to an abrupt stop and Anise climbed stiffly down from the wagon. Trailing her hand along Nigel’s side, she stopped at his head, the two of them starring at the modest white cottage. There was a large porch on the front and a large window on either side of the large,heavy looking wooden door. A small ball of witch light hovered in both windows, casting a warm glow on the ground outside the window, making the cottage look welcoming in the darkening winter night. 

Anise closed her eyes and opened her senses, seeking out the cottage. She smelled bread and cinnamon, felt warmth and a welcoming spirit emanating from the cottage. 

“Well, Nigel,” she said, petting the grey mule’s warm neck, “whoever she is, she warded the house well and left us a welcome.”

Looking around the clearing, Anise noticed a garden with a fence around it. And on the other side of the garden, barely visible in the gloom, a small barn-like building. 

“It looks like you might be in luck, old buddy,” she said, moving around to unbuckle the harness from Nigel. “You might have a nice roof over your head after all.” 

Summoning a ball of witch light in order to make their way safely across the clearing, Anise and Nigel made their way around the side of the kitchen garden to the out building. Anise spared a glance at the garden. Even though winter was already settling in, she could see the garden had been overflowing with life. Dragging her eyes away from it, she tried to focus on getting Nigel settled in the barn. There was still some grain and a bit of hay left on the wagon, so she would have to go fetch that, but she hoped there would be at least a warm, dry spot for him.

Halting in the area before the barn door, Anise sent her witchlight to hover over the door so she could use both hands to open the grey, wooden door. Already there was the smell of freshly mown hay and she could feel Nigel moving in closer. 

“Back up, bud,” she said, giving Nigel a little bump on his nose as she grabbed the handle on the door.

Nigel snorted, and in true mule fashion, stuck his head in the opening and shoved his body through, making Anise stumble back a bit as she hurriedly dragged the large door wide enough for the animal.

“Beast,” she muttered, stepping into the barn behind Nigel. The witchlight slowly moved into the barn after them and then moved toward the ceiling, illuminating the inside of the barn. Anise sent a second ball of light to join the first, making it easier to see. 

The barn appeared to have four large stalls and a large open area before the stalls where, on pegs on the wall, hung miscellaneous tools. Over to one side was a large pile of hay and a large covered box. Anise walked over to the box and lifted the lid.

“Well, it seems you will be eating well tonight,” she said. Leaning over, Anise grabbed an empty wooden bucket from the floor and filled it with grain from the box. “If nothing else, you should be comfortable.”

Having used his nose to slide open one of the stall doors, Nigel was already inside. Anise walked in behind him and poured the grain into a trough hung on the wall of the stall. Glancing at the bucket on the floor in the corner, she noticed it was filled with water. 

Setting the feed bucket outside the stall, Anise quickly removed the harness leathers from Nigel. She carried it outside the stall, sliding the door closed. Yeah, like that would get the mule in the stall if he wanted out. 

Turning around, she leaned over the stall door. Nigel stopped eating long enough to touch his large, grey muzzle to her nose. 

“Hopefully, the house has been left in as good a shape as the barn.” she said, giving Nigel’s nose a quick scratch. Blowing out a puff of air from his nose, he turned and returned to his dinner.

Stopping long enough to hang the harness on an empty peg beside his stall, Anise beckoned to the two witchlights, heading out the barn door. With one last glance inside, hearing the steadying sound of Nigel chewing, she closed the door behind her, keeping the chill of winter outside the barn. 

Kicking at the small clumps of snow, Anise headed to the cottage hoping the same wards and spells which had been placed on the barn had also been used on the house. It would be nice to walk into a house which was ready to be lived in rather than having to clean it before she could live there. Whoever the witch that was missing was impressive in her abilities so far and she hoped it continued.

Having dismissed one of the witchlights, Anise had enough light to make her way to the porch of the cottage. As she approached she appreciated the fact there was a covered porch of any kind, much less one which stretched the width of the front of the house. It would be handy in the warmer months when she could work on the porch or just sit and enjoy being outside, a luxury she didn’t have often which at Hazelwood.

In fact, the more she thought about it, the more she was liking the fact she was no longer under the thumb of academia and in charge of her own time for once in her life. 

Musing on how different her new life could be, Anise placed her booted foot on the first step leading up to the porch and came to an abrupt halt. There, laying in front of the oaken door, was a bundle of rags - a rather large bundle of rags. One that hadn’t been there when she first arrived.