Brew 14

The days passed by quickly, each one pulling Blaise further into the rhythm of council life. Everything he was learning, he was learning fast. For now, he shared research space with other junior council members – one-striped robes like himself. Thew arrangement suited him; ideas being about to bounce freely between them, theories sparked and refined, and different schools of magic mingled liked herbs in a pot of steeping tea.

During his lunch breaks, Blaise found quiet moments to retreat. Sometimes he’d take a sandwich from the on-site kitchen and eat alone with his notes. Other times, he would sit beneath the cherry tree on the edge of the garden courtyard – sketchbook in hand and tea resting beside his feet.

Today, his sketching view was occupied by Seraphina.

She sat across the courtyard with serval other witches, her hands moving gracefully as she spoke., laughter threading between her words. Blaise’s fingers moved instinctively, his pencil dancing across the page, chasing the tilt of her chin, the loose strands of hair framing her cheek.

He didn’t think – simply focused on capturing the beauty before him.

“You’ve got a good eye,” said a voice from behind.

Blaise jumped, quickly pulling the book to his chest. Caelum stood above him, once brow raised, a cold drink in hand. “You saw that” Blaise muttered.

“Afraid so,” Caelum chuckled, sitting beside Blaise, handing him the cold drink. “But don’t worry, your secret is safe with me.”

Blaise’s face flushed, tinted pink in embarrassment. “It’s not what it looks like,” he tried to protest.

“Mmhmm,” Caelum chuckled. “Just an innocent sketch of the most talked about women in all council. Totally normal.”

Blaise groaned, bringing the drink to his nose and sniffing it. “Honeydew. With a hint of lake water?”

Caelum’s eyes widened in mock surprise. “Impressive. You’d give my nose a run for its money,” he joked.

“I’m from Thistlewick,” Blaise shrugged. “You learn to know the forest by scent.”

“I’ve never been the to the Thistlewick forest myself,” Caelum mused, looking thoughtful. “I have been told about the lush and untamed greenery from a friend of mine. And how magical the forest is.”

Blaise nodded, his gaze starting to drift. Memories of the forest flooding his mind. “They truly are,” he whispered.

For a moment he was back in the forest; the crunch of the leaves, the smell of the bark and the quiet laughter of something unseen in the canopy. Aria’s laughter.

Did Aria ever go back to the village? Was she still in the forest? Was she still angry?

Caelum noticed the shift In Blaise’s face – how his smile wavered at the mention of the forest. He reached for the sketchbook still clutched Blaise’s chest. “May I?”

Blaise hesitated for a moment before nodding and loosening his grip on the book. Caelum was gentle as he turned the pages. Sketches of people, animals, magical symbols and quiet areas of the courtyard. But one page made him stop.

A fae.

Hair flowing, eyes shar and curious. The kind of detail that spoke of time, care and memory. “Aria?” Caelum read aloud.

Blaise took the sketchbook back and slipped into his satchel. “She’s a fae from the forest,” he said plainly. “She didn’t care much for humans. I lived on the edge of the forest whereas she stayed in the heart. We didn’t part well.”

“I didn’t realise they still lived in the forest,” Caelum hummed. “Was she the only one?”

“As far as I knew,” Blaise chuckled lowly. “She was surrounded by mischievous fairies however Aria was the only one.”

Caelum lent back on the grass, hands behind his head. “And you left all that behind?”

“To make a difference,” Blaise spoke with determination. He stood up, brushing his robe down. The wind shifted gently around him catching the leavers above in a lazy swirl. “I want to build a world where people like Aria – like you- aren’t hiding in forests or buried under prejudice. I want beastmen, witches, fae, anyone with magic in their blood to feel safe.” He looked down to Caelum, his expression firm. “To sit around tables together, share food, build lives and ever raise families. A world where no one should be afraid.”

Caelum looked up, squinting against the sun. “Even beastmen huh?” He laughed.

“Especially beastmen,” Blaise smirked.

Smirking, Caelum sat up, offering his hand. “Well then Blaise Mickleright, consider me your first advocate for your cause.”

That evening, Blaise returned to his apartment with a strange new energy. He opened his windows, rearranged shelves and tried to make the space feel like a stone closet and something thought would resemble a home.

Caelum’s words stirred something inside him – hope maybe.

However, as he organised his booked, something felt off. He checked is satchel, it was lighter than usual. “Where-?” His eyes widened noticing his sketchbook was gone.

Panicked flared; he started to scour the room, checked under the check, beneath the bed and yet it was nowhere.

He threw on his coat, ready to bolt back to the courtyard – when he opened the door he stopped dead in his tracks.

Seraphina stood before him, one hand on her hip and the other holding out his sketchbook. 

“I thought I would return this,” she said sweetly her eyes twinkling.