With a gentle sigh of annoyance, Autumn cast her gaze across the darkened room only lit by the enchanting moonlit and the fading glow of the warm fire. There, resting where she had left it as if mocking her, was the fraying hat. With reluctance, she parted with her comfortable rest and hobbled once again across the chamber to retrieve it. 

It felt even more mystically heavy than before, and when it fell upon her head, she resolved herself to accept that weight. 

It was magic, after all.

“So just grab some emotion?” Autumn huffed quietly to herself, “Why don’t I just bottle sunlight or something while I’m at it?”

“Calm down, Autumn, just try.” 

Autumn took a deep breath.

Deep within her body, she searched for the feeling of magic. Perhaps she was a sorcerer instead. It was unlikely, in her opinion, but it didn’t hurt to check. There was nothing. No font of dwelling magic or pulse within her veins. Autumn had already ruled out a wizard’s path as studying wasn’t her forte. Druid too was out, as she had killed every plant she had attempted to nurture. 

Slow, rhythmic breathing echoed within the enclosed chamber as she delved deeper into her mind and body.

Emotions it was, but which?

Hope? She wasn’t feeling very hopeful about her situation right now.

Love? No. Happiness? Not for a long time. 

Perhaps anger? It was too unruly for her, fleeting in its rising and falling. 

Sadness? She tried to use it, but the grief she had hidden deep within cut her like the sharpest of razors. Autumn distanced herself before she drowned once more in that familiar river.

There was one emotion that almost leaped to her, beckoning.

Fear.

It flitted about her chest like a wild animal within a thunderous storm, always seeking freedom in a choking fit or a wide-eyed scream. It had been a constant companion to Autumn, and it had grown glutinous upon her grief. 

That deep well of paranoia and fright was a perfect candidate for her magicka.

With a delicate hand, she pressed up against her ribcage and sought to grasp onto that feeling. With a thrashing and howling intent, the fear fought back, sending spikes of panic flooding Autumn’s system. Her heartbeat thundered in her ears as the blood rushed in time with the beast. 

Her blood felt as if it was boiling and her heart was racing to its doom. Despite how hard she gritted her teeth and pulled, she couldn’t wrench it free. Back awash with sweat, Autumn slumped back into her seat and gulped down a steady stream of air to calm her racing heart. 

She realized her fault was in trying to take far too much, far too soon. 

Far too excited by the prospect of using magic herself, failure would not scare Autumn away.

With no small amount of trepidation in her hands and a thrilled glint in her eyes, Autumn tried again, this time with a gentler hand. She grasped a smaller piece of fear, a spook more than a fright. She cradled it in her palms like a small animal. It felt more like she had spotted a spider or bug on the floor than the looming specter of death. 

From her chest emerged a coiling form of an inky purplish-black worm. Upon being cast into the world of the real, it wrapped itself tightly around Autumn’s slim fingers and stained them as it struggled to return to her body. With shaking hands, she drew it up past her face and, with an inordinate amount of effort for its size, she shoved it under her ratty witch’s hat. Once she let go, the emotion stayed in place within the crooked hat, making it just a bit heavier.

Autumn blinked in confusion and amazement. When she had released her hold upon that thin sliver of fear within her hat, it had become cut off from her. Like tension being loosened on a spring, Autumn’s mind felt just a little lighter. It was only the witch’s warning and the gargantuan effort it took to carve even the smallest sliver off that stopped her from freeing herself of the rest.

Yet she thought to herself deep down that would it be so bad to be without fear? To not have to shy away from everything in fright? Her traitorous mind replayed scene after scene of the terrible events that dominated her life, her humiliations and grief. 

The tragedy of the accident.

Eager to distract herself and learn more, she turned back to the book and continued reading.

Now you have presumably extracted some small amount of emotion from yourself or another, you must use it for something. It’d be a waste otherwise. The first thing we’ll start with is Hexes. 

A Hex is the most common form of witch magic. They can be as simple as a tripping spell or as lethal as a killing curse. But before you learn either, you must first create for yourself an anti-hex charm. Why? Because, my naïve apprentice, witches are your biggest threat. We don’t get along well and neither do we like to share.

Autumn would have set fire to the book with her eyes if she could do so. She was already well aware of the dangers of witches.

Settling her anger down, she glanced at the instructions laid out before her.

Step 1. First place three intact chicken bones into an equal-sided triangle no larger than an inch long on either side.  

Step 2. Twine them together at the intersections with a dead man’s hair (a dead woman’s works fine). Brunette hair works best, but never use ginger!

Step 3. Encase the charm in beeswax to seal it. 

Step 4. Infuse the sealed charm with magic and emotion (something related to defense works best). 

Step 5. Finally, place the charm upon your body. It can be on a belt or in a pocket as long as it is on your person. 

Now remember, it is a single-use charm, as it’ll snap if it takes a hex for you. So you might wish to wear multiple.

It didn’t take long for Autumn to ransack the hut for the listed components even with her injuries and return to the worktable. There, she began her first foray into magical crafting. The missing fingers on her right hand proved a hindrance to her efforts. She kept finding herself attempting to use the phantom limbs, and it fouled her work. 

Yet despite the setbacks, she finished the charm after only snapping a few dry bones. 

Reaching into her newly gained hat, she pulled free a tiny sliver of fear and poured it into the charm, focusing on the protection she desired. Like a deep purple jelly, it oozed viscously into the charm until it clung to the bones and vanished.

Autumn slumped back into the creaking of the chair beneath her. 

The tedious work had aggravated her burnt fingers. Now they throbbed with a pain that tore into Autumn’s mind. With gritted teeth, she clutched tightly at her hand as tears pooled in the corner of her eyes. When the pain had dulled she glanced down at the tome before her, perhaps it had something to help her?

With renewed vigor, she began leafing through the yellowed pages in search. Page after page of spells or recipes passed her by until she stopped on a particular entry.

Herbal healing cream

A simple recipe that any young witch should learn. The cream is a basic herbal remedy; it can heal light wounds, cuts, burns, or general muscle fatigue. 

While it won’t be as fast-acting or powerful as an alchemist’s healing potion or a cleric’s divinely granted prayer, it will be cheaper. The healing cream can be made almost anywhere, the ingredients change per recipe, but as long as you infuse a positive emotion, it’ll work to varying degrees. 

Below, you’ll find my recipe that I’ve found works best without relying on any convoluted ingredients.

Step 1. Finely ground together two dried eel leaves and five dandelion flowers (no stems).

Step 2. Add wrath leech juice until the mixture is covered fully. 

Step 3. Mix until you have a smooth mixture (add more wrath leech if necessary).

Step 4. Add arrowroot flour, mixing until you have a creamy consistency.

Step 5. Infuse the mixture with a positive emotion. (love, care, happiness, etc..)

All manner of bottles and jars filled the shelving above her. Whatever labels that had been upon them had worn away in the moonlight as dim as was. Now only faded paper remained. Luckily, Witch Augus had illustrated the ingredients alongside the recipe, so Autumn could compare each ingredient to the drawings.

Eel leaves looked just like their namesake, long thin they rested within a sealed glass jar. Dandelion flowers were the same bright golden color she recognized from Earth and Wrath leeches looked just as she was expecting just in a bright slimy orange. 

Into an old stone mortar and pestle the ingredients went, and with only a little difficulty she had a creamy mixture spooned into a lacquered wooden tub about the size of her palm. 

All it needed now was joy. 

Something Autumn was in short supply but not devoid of, which was a surprise to her. Despite the horror she had endured, all the pain and suffering, she found a small part of herself was joyous at the act of creation. 

She was an artist at heart, after all.

So she reached out to that tiny nugget of joy inside and it rushed to fulfill her needs. It was much harder to hold back and not empty herself. It was almost too eager to be used.

The mixture was complete. 

Autumn felt drained as the rush of joy left her body. All she had now was pain and ever-present fear. Hugging her knees, Autumn cried. Being without joy was no foreign thing to her, but never this sudden, this otherworldly. She now understood the warning that the witch had written. If she felt like this all the time? If she had hollowed herself of joy?

Then she might not carry on anymore.

Wiping away the tears in her eyes, Autumn snatched up the jar she had made and sought to fix up her aches and pains. A long road home stretched out before her and she’d never make it if she couldn’t even take the first step.

The bandages wrapped around her feet had practically glued themselves together with her sticky blood. They peeled away with a hair-raising stickiness and tore at her scabbed feet, causing them to bleed freely once more. 

Drops of blood fell unbidden as she carefully applied the salve. 

Autumn tensed in agony for a moment before a numbing cooling spread throughout. With fresh bandages, Autumn re-wrapped her feet before slipping into a pair of woolen socks that were only mildly musty and moth-eaten.

What she had left of the paste ended up rubbed into the burnt stumps of her fingers. 

Autumn had aid, and she had protection, but what she lacked was offense. She turned back to the tome. One page she had flipped past in her search had caught her interest. Now she flicked back and re-read it.

Basic Jinx 

The Jinx is the first spell many witches will learn and cast. It is the bread and butter (if you’ll forgive the phrase) of any witch’s spell list. While not as deadly or long-lasting as a Hex or Curse, Jinxes are faster to cast and less draining on both magic and materials. 

Furthermore, a Jinx can be used with any emotion to varying effects. Tailor, your Jinx to yourself; make it follow your will and desires and it’ll never fail you. 

While any spell catalyst will be capable of casting a Jinx, I find a wand works best as you can aim far better than, say: a staff or amulet. If you found this tome within my hut, you may use mine, if not. 

Well, good luck.