Second Hand News

Misty Day. The news of her tragedy had been broadcast coast to coast by now, a young witch burned at the stake just like in the times of Salem. Before this, the few girls that attended Miss Robichaux's had a sense of safety; no one was out witch hunting in any world other than their own, and although that itself came with its own risks, it was somehow more manageable.

For one witch within the Coven, the news of Misty's death had a much greater impact than that on those around her. Cordelia did her best to sob silently in her room upon hearing the news. She had known Misty in what felt like another lifetime. The love they had shared was unlike anything Cordelia had felt in her life. She thought of Misty in her last moments; was she in pain? How did she suffer? Who was there to mourn her?

~ Then~

Young Cordelia was riddled with anxiety as she approached the univiting metal gates, holding behind it a grand white house, a golden plate on the side reading "Miss Robichaux's Academy for Exceptional Young Ladies". She looked back at her mother with tearful eyes as Fiona placed a delicate hand on her shoulder.

"You'll be fine, Delia. You;re the daughter of the Supreme for Christ's sake, everyone is going to adore you." As Fiona spoke it felt like she was trying harder to convince herself than her daughter with the words she said. "I'll see you soon."

"See you soon." Cordelia took a deep breath and began to walk forwards, the only subtle sign of affection given by Fiona was a light pat on the top of her head.

Cordelia refused to look back at her mother as she entered the other side of the gate, she could hear the faint creak of the metal as the doors began to close behind her. She made her way up the steps where she was greeted by a few older women, most she had seen throughout her life but none with enough significance she could place their names. They were all friends with her mother and Cordelia was well aware of how her mother spoke of her.

She felt the eyes of every witch she walked by as she was show about the house and assigned her own room. The looks were a mixture of interest and disgust, most knowing her mother as the narcissistic Supreme she was, and those who didn't couldn't help but gawk along with all the rest. Cordelia held back the tears that were stinging her eyes, she knew it wasn't her fault she was the daughter of Fiona Goode, but she wished she could. If they didn't hate her for one thing it would be another. She could feel nothing but a sense of dread beginning to creep up every inch of her body, already feeling that her stay in the academy would be less than unpleasant.

Cordelia put away her things in her room, thankful and mournful for a room of her own. In a way it felt like just another way to isolate her from the rest of the girls, in another, it felt like a safety precaution, although in a house of witches a closed door wouldn't do much. She didn't bother joining the rest of the house for dinner, she continued to settle into her room, trying to make it as much of a home as she could. Cordelia sat on one of her chairs near the fireplace, leafing through some old spell books she had found on the bookshelf. There was a light tap on the door, she opened it fully, showing a girl about her age holding a plate of hot food, a shy smile spread across her face. Her wild blonde hair shifted with every movement she made.

"The ladies said you weren't comin' down, just thought I'd bring ya up a plate. Everyone's first day is hard here, I can only imagine what it must be like bein' the daughter of the Supreme 'nd all. I'm Misty, Misty Day." The girl shifted the plate to one hand, holding out the other to shake Cordelia's hand.

"Cordelia Goode. You really didn't have to do this."

"Oh, it's no trouble. I didn't know anyone when I came here either and the other girls, they can be kind of intimidating."

"How long have you been at the house?" Cordelia asked, stepping to the side of the door to invite Misty in.

"Got dropped here when I was about 13, maybe 14. Been here 3 years in the spring. It's been nice but I just try and fly under the radar." Misty made her way over to the fireplace and set Cordelia's plate on the small table between the two chairs. "I don't even think all the ladies runnin' the place know I'm here most of the time. The new one, Myrtle, I ain't really meet her yet. I just knew there was a new one comin' and I ain't seen that hair before."

"You like it here then?"

"Could always be somewhere worse right? Least it's warm and they feed ya here, some of the girls are pretty nice. Just haven't found my tribe yet I guess."

"Makes two of us."

"Maybe we can be our own tribe." Misty smiled.

"I like the sound of that."

"I'll see ya around then ya? Don't be shy when ya see me either alright? I'mma head back down before they start yellin' for me."

"It was nice to meet you Misty."

~ Now ~

The reality of Misty's death set in for Cordelia not long after she spoke to the girls of the Coven about her death. She choked back tears as she uttered the name out of her mouth, waiting until she was alone to fully lose it. She heard the news and felt the lose but even still, there was a part of her that refused to accept it as truth. It was as if she could still feel Misty in the world, her presence had yet to fully disappear, and if that was all the hope Cordelia could have of her being alive, she would put all of her faith behind it.

Throughout her first few weeks at the Coven, it was Misty that had made her feel safe and comfortable in a place that was anything but. The Coven had changed over the years, and although Cordelia was happy to be running the place herself, a part of her did so in case Misty were to ever return, something she couldn't bring herself to think of now. Her focus had to be on keeping the other girls safe, knowing Misty would come back to her when the time was right.