Well, well, well…would you look at the thyme.
It’s growing well this year, despite the heat we’ve had over the last few days. Gosh, growing plants without magic is easy. And there I was, travelling from village to village on my broomstick, casting spells of minor enhancement on people’s herb gardens for a small fee. Honestly, I think some villages have learned to rely on the services of witches too much, to the point where they can’t do anything at all.
“Oh no, the cow’s having birth complications! Burn some sage and chant the witch’s name three times backwards, she must come to help us!”
No, there are no complications. That’s just birth, my dears.
I tell you what, I’m glad I sneaked through the portal; this realm’s conveniences are wonderful. I have myself a nice little apartment with actual air conditioning. Carnegie doesn’t seem to be an incredibly advanced, scientific place, from what I can see; the same as any other. And yet, so many of the homes have these conveniences, ones that harness the elements with ease, like a child at the Royal Academy learning how to summon their spirit familiar. That’s day one stuff, and it’s all been compressed into a white box on the wall that controls the temperature (albeit for an electricity fee). Innovative indeed. And all magic comes at a price, so it’s not like paying for the privilege is especially unsavoury. I can either brew a potion of heat transference, using several live ingredients that I had to spend time to catch, or I can just turn on the box.
I can see myself staying here for a long time. And to think, this is where wizards are banished: a place where you can order efficient Murrumbeena air conditioning services whenever you like.
Witch banishment is just being splashed with water and melted. You can spend years as a puddle before you reconstitute, and it’s embarrassing.