The next morning, there was a palpable energy buzzing around the entire school. Ravensburl and Hawkswood students alike had only one thing on their minds: Circe Hawkswood challenged someone from Ravensburl. The details floating above the excited din at the dining hall during breakfast were scant, but one thing was for sure.

There was going to be quite the show today.

Beatrice and Nova sat at the same table with The Witches Three during their dinner the night before. The three were all of different moods that morning: Hanan, who was ravenously hungry last night, now fidgeted badly and couldn’t eat at all. The state Hanan was in reminded her of when she first met the bronze-skinned young witch on the bus. Adeline, on the other hand, was having tea with toast and was in a jolly mood. She was talking Nova’s ear off, but Beatrice noticed that she seemed to be speaking even faster than usual, and her topics were random and shallow. The French witch was attempting to burn off some excess energy, and Nova was the captured audience.

Sascha, on the other hand, looks as dead inside and empty as they had been after Circe had first confronted them.

“Sascha? How are you feeling?” Beatrice asked softly, sitting beside Sascha.

The androgynous student just shrugged. “I don’t really know. Everything’s happening so fast and it’s not like we can back out of the duel now. Everyone’s talking about it.”

“Yes, I can hear it.” The earth witch took a moment to discreetly look around the dining hall. The noise was a bit louder today, and the duel was on everyone’s lips. “But you three will do great, I know you will.”

“Thank you, Beatrice,” Sascha replied with no conviction at all in their voice. “I’ll just try to keep the other two from getting hurt. Hopefully, I can manage that, at the very least.”

Beatrice caught Nova’s eye from across the table. The two shared a knowing look; there was only so much they could do for their friend’s spirits. It was all up to them now.

Adeline cleared her throat. “Well then. If we are all done with breakfast, I suppose…It’s time.” Hanan nodded nervously as she stood while Sascha sighed heavily and patted their pocket for their wand. They were ready, physically at least.

“Good luck you three. We’ll be watching from the stands.” Nova said as The Witches Three began to bid the roommates goodbye and make their way out to the east field.

“Representing Ravensburl Academy of Witchcraft are...” Professor Grace’s booming voice paused as she shuffled her notes. Grace stifled a yawn, as her magically amplified voice would have blasted that sound across the entire east field as well. The crowd that had gathered around the rather large arena now knew who was going to come out on stage, but the knowledge did nothing to offset their nerves and excitement. Young witches and warlocks clad in robes and casual clothes alike waited with bated breath. On one side of the arena, at least.

“The team known as the Witches Three. Hanan Gonzales, Adeline Lestrade, Sascha Gale.” The professor continued. Squinting at the paper and blinking a few times, she spoke again. “Representing the Hawkswood School of Magic is the team known as the Coventry. Circe Amelia Hawkswood, Misha Regen, Lana O’Hare.” The screams and cheers from the other half of the area threatened to drown out the professor’s already magically boosted voice.

“All participants shall now enter the arena.”

The Witches Three emerged from the Ravensburl side of the arena, through a doorway from the holding room just under the stands and bleachers. Their classmates cheered for them, and Beatrice was on her feet waving. Nova, unable to hold back a smile at the earth witch’s excitement, struggled to keep her seated or else she’d fall into the arena herself.

“Bee, careful!” Nova said, pulling at Beatrice’s shirt and getting her to sit back down. “Don’t lean too far over the rail.”

“But I want to cheer them on! It’s the first duel of the Games, and our friends are the first ones out? That’s amazing! Who cares if it’s up against Circe, it’s the Witches Three!” Beatrice beamed, finally sitting back in her seat. Beside her, Nova chuckled and nodded.

The tech witch smiled, but there was an uncertainty in her eye. “Remember Bee, they didn’t volunteer for the duel. Those other girls from Hawkswood goaded them into it.”

“Well…” Beatrice settled into her chair, her sunny disposition was unfazed. “I’m sure they’ll do great! The Witches Three still have the best teamwork I’ve ever seen at Ravensburl! I’m going to stand by that and have faith in them.”

“I hope you’re right,” Nova muttered. “Look, the Hawkswood girls are coming out.”

The other half of the arena erupted in cheers as three girls clad in the dark robes of the Hawkswood School of Magic emerged from their side of the arena.

Circe Hawkswood, the descendant of the founder of the school itself, self-proclaimed most powerful witch at the school, led her parade of three. The two that followed her, Misha and Lana, were plain in comparison. They seemed like shadows trailing behind Circe in their robes, one on either side of her as if just being close enough to her was enough purpose in their lives. The girls were prim and proper, with finely manicured nails, not a hair out of place, and their polished wood wands held at the ready. The sight of them standing opposite The Witches Three brought out the stark differences between the schools.

“Is that what we look like?” Nova mused while they waited for the match to begin.

“What do you mean? I think our friends look great!” Beatrice replied. She managed to stay firmly in her seat this time around.

“Well, Ravensburl doesn’t have a dress code or uniform.” Nova squinted at the arena floor where the two groups were approaching each other and would soon be getting within insulting distance. “I mean, Hanan’s wearing a tank top.”

“It’s an expression of individuality, Nova! Ravensburl has always been open and inclusive. Besides, the lack of dress code lets you look dashing in those pants.”

“Yes, but the other schools don’t take us so seriously for it.” The tech witch looked somber, even sad. Beatrice was used to her roommate’s stoic face, but this was different. “Ravensburl said that wands don’t always have to be made of wood. I can be anything that is meaningful and resonates with the witch or warlock.” She took out her smartphone and held it up to Beatrice. “This is my wand? It’s a phone. Who in the magic world would take that–or me seriously? At least you came from a traditional background, you fit right in.”

Beatrice smiled kindly and put an arm on Nova’s. “I did, and that’s why I appreciate Ravensburl’s individuality. Tradition is stuck up, Nova, you made sure to tell me that enough times. There’s no harm in trying something different. And anyway, a duel like this will prove that our new way of approaching magic is just as good as the old ways.”

“If our friends win, that is,” Nova said bitterly and kept her speech short. Professor Grace’s magically amplified voice sounded out over the arena again.

“The first team duel of the Interschool Games shall now begin!” her booming voice echoed across the arena as cheers erupted from the stands. The two teams flew into action, hurling spells in a flurry of light and magic.

Low walls raised from the earth were erected as cover on The Witches Three’s side to hide them behind the Coventry’s aggressive assault. Hanan and Adeline were on the offensive, striking with dueling spells when they had an opportunity, while Sascha handled deflection and blocking. Their teamwork shone through as they dueled, matching each other’s movements and needs without a word being said.

Opposite them, Circe led her girls with an iron fist. She barked orders, telling Misha and Lana to flank her or fall back, and even what spells to use. But the other two girls were quick and used to Circe’s orders. They reacted and changed tactics quickly as per Circe’s instructions, splitting up to divide and conquer and distract Hanan and Adeline. The Witches Three were soon driven backward, forced to yield ground to the Coventry’s attacks. With bolts of blue and yellow light, Hanan and Adeline were directly hit with dueling spells, leaving them sprawled on the ground and stunned.

Seeing the opening, Circe darted forward and let loose a spell that struck Sascha in the head. The earthen walls crumbled along with what defenses The Witches Three had erected, and the hope that they would win. It was all over so fast. The crowd fell silent.

Circe scoffed. She stood with one hand jauntily placed on her hip while Misha and Lana smirked and laughed. “I should have known that was all you people could do. Especially you, half-breed.”

“What did you say?” Sascha’s voice was low. They stood slowly, blood dripping down their face from a cut above their eye. Up in the stands, Beatrice leaned forward. The rules for the duel were to use stunning or paralyzing spells only, not spells that can cut or wound.

Circe laughed. She held her wand in a casual grip, not even seeing the Witches Three as a threat. “You heard me, half-breed. We know all about you, everyone at Hawkswood does! And honestly, we’re not surprised. We’ve always thought that Ravensburl was a place for misfits, but that degenerates, abominations like you get accepted here too?” Her laugh was echoed by the other two girls. “Now that just explains everything about this wretched school.”

Hanan and Adeline shared a confused look with each other. “Half-breed?” Adeline mouthed. Hanan could only shrug cluelessly.

Circe’s smirk was cruel. “No one else would take you in, was it? Not the fae side, not the human side.”

“Stop it.” Sascha said, pulling themselves up to a defiant standing position.

“I heard you were banished from the Fae court itself.” Misha cooed.

“And that your father was killed for what he did.” Lana giggled.

“And you’ve been homeless, alone, weak, and pathetic ever since.” Circe grinned.

The Coventry expected Sascha to rise in anger and charge without thinking, leaving Hanan and Adeline separated and unprotected. They were disappointed. Sascha wiped off the blood that was getting into their eyes and calmly, slowly, and deliberately took out a notebook from their pocket. Sascha only spared Circe and her girls a glance before putting their wand — a fountain pen made from dark, gnarled wood— to the paper and began to write.

Ink as black as night flowed from the pen, rushing over the pages and onto the ground of the arena in a torrent. Sascha’s voice was clear when they spoke, reading off the words their quick hand wrote on the page.

Twisting, twining, trapping thorns,

Bristling brambles, vines entangle,

Coil and claw, cull and capture,

Snare and silence into stillness.

The waves of ink solidified and rushed towards the Coventry, splitting into constructs of vines and thorns made from Sascha’s ink. They tore up the ground of the arena with their power and caught Misha and Lana easily. The two were held several feet above the ground, their arms pinned to their sides. Circe, quicker on her feet, dodged away and conjured a burst of water from her wand that washed away the ink.

“Is that all you can do, half-breed?” Circe laughed. She didn’t spare a glance at the other two, still held fast by Sascha’s ink vines. “You can’t even hope to match me.”

“Alone, no. Maybe not.” Sascha kept writing. When they were done, they ripped the page out of the notebook and handed it to Adeline. The French witch took a quick glance at the page before a smile spread across her face. With another flick of their pen, a blob of ink floated over to Hanan who began to scrawl sigils onto the ground of the arena with it, directing it to where she wanted lines drawn.

“But remember, we’re called The Witches Three for a reason, Circe.”

The Witches Three sprang into action. With Hanan’s sigils written with Sascha’s ink, the entire sigil was able to slide along the ground and plant itself under Circe’s feet. Once it settled, Circe found herself rooted to the ground, her body growing heavy and herself falling to her knees from the sudden pull to the earth. “What is this?” Circe howled, unable to stand.

Sascha only smiled. It was Adeline’s turn.

Misha and Lana, copying Circe’s lead and using water-creation spells, freed themselves from the ink vines. Once their feet touched the floor again, Adeline raised the scrap of notebook paper while her other hand held her wand to her mouth as if it were a microphone. With a clear, strong voice, Adeline began to sing the short ballad Sascha had written for her. The sound of her voice and the strong, forceful spell behind it muddled the two witches’ senses, leaving them staggering, confused, and open to another round of attacks and dueling spells. Circe, always quick and two steps ahead had blocked her ears with a quick deafening spell on herself. She gritted her teeth as she darted around the arena, erecting her own earthen cover to hide behind, much to her chagrin. With Misha and Lana easily dispatched and Circe pushed into a corner, the cheers from the Ravensburl side of the stands erupted again. Circe banished her deafening spell and whirled about in outrage as she realized the stadium wasn’t on her side anymore.

Sascha smiled, still scribbling in their notebook. “I don’t have loyal minions like you do, Circe. I don’t have wealth, power to my name, or an esteemed pedigree. But what I do have are friends.” With a flick of their pen, another ink blob floated over to Hanan. With a few tweaks to create another ground sigil, she sent it on its way, crawling along the ground at an unnatural speed. Adeline knew what it was and couldn’t hold back a laugh. She spoke the words to activate the spell once the sigil was planted firmly under Circe’s feet.

“You⁠—You damned half-breed!” Circe’s cry of outrage was cut short as a torrent of water burst out from the sigil underneath her. The force of the water threw Circe several feet into the air, cutting off any other insults she had on her tongue, and sending her crashing to the ground sore, humiliated, defeated, and soaking wet. All three of the combatants on one team were unable to continue the match.

“The Witches Three are victorious!” Professor Grace’s booming voice was drowned out and ignored by the cheers and yells of the Ravensburl students. They were on their feet, screaming their congratulations over each other and hurling a few choice words at the sullen Hawkswoods opposite them. The Witches Three, overcome with a moment of shock at actually having won, broke into their own cheers and piled together into a screaming, jumping group hug. The Coventry, led by a now furious Circe, stormed out of the arena without another word. Circe grumbled under her breath and swore up and down as she went, followed by Misha and Lana offering their apologies that fell on deaf ears.

Up in the stands, Nova sat back down with a surprised laugh. “I didn’t think they’d do it.” She said, disbelief giving way to joy as the moment was sinking in.

“They really had me worried for a second, I won’t lie.” Beatrice sat back down too, beaming from ear to ear. “But they did it. Our friends showed Hawkswood!”

“Who cares about Hawkswood? They showed Circe!” Nova laughed. She still had her phone clutched in her hand.

Beatrice looked over at her roommate, seeing how candid and free she was now, and how her face lit up with joy. She smiled too. It wasn’t just The Witches Three’s win Nova was happy about. “They really gave it to her, huh? And they used their own magic too; I’m so happy they were able to show it off!”

“Oh, they’re heading back to the team’s rooms. Do you think we can cut them off when they exit? I want to congratulate them before they get mobbed in the dining hall.” Nova was already out of her seat before Beatrice could say yes or no. The earth witch was pulled on by her roommate’s excitement this time, and the sight of Nova so filled with hope made her heart leap and a giddy smile come on her face.

The two witches wove their way through the crowd at the stands even as Professor Grace’s still amplified voice urged the crowds to calm down and sit for the day’s duels weren’t over. But as the big Ravensburl vs. Hawkswood duel had come first, only a few students were paying attention. Took all of Grace and Hope’s efforts to regain control of the crowd that was close to erupting into protests on one side and riots on the other. Beatrice was sure she caught sight of Lee and the young werewolves she and Nova had met in the library whooping and hollering —or were they howling?— as they cheered in the stands against Hawkswood.

The holding area of the dueling arena was a space as large as the bleachers and stands that were above them, reinforced with magic to keep the area as big as possible. The Witches Three had their own corner of benches and target dummies, but instead of sitting around with nervous energy as they did earlier, the three were now brimming with excitement.

Beatrice rushed the three friends as soon as she and Nova found them. The earth witch pulled them into a huge hug. “You guys did it! You did it, I knew you would! And the look on Circe’s face, did you see it? And those spells, that teamwork!” Beatrice babbled, bursting with pride. Hanging back, Nova beamed and clapped but didn’t join the group hug. Until Adeline reached over and pulled the tech witch in anyway.

“Thank you.” Sascha managed to say over the strength of the hug and the noises of incoherent joy from her friends. “Thank you for standing up for me.”

“Are you kidding? You saved our hides out there! Thank you!” Hanan squealed and jumped out and down in the group hug, her excitement infectious and causing the others to join her in an excited bounce. “Your ink and Adeline’s song! It was awesome!”

“Guys.”

“Oh no darling, your sigils as well! You drew them so quickly and expertly, and the water!”

“Guys.”

“But your singing voice is lovely Adeline, and so strong. Have you considered writing more songs?

“Guys.”

“Yes, Nova?”

Nova had stopped bouncing with the rest of them. As the tallest in the group, she was able to see above the other’s heads and was staring at the entrance to the holding area. A trio of young witches wearing dark robes were standing there, glaring at them.

“You!” Circe Hawkswood sneered, malice shining in her eyes.