Magic Cat Academy: The Adventures of Momo

The Creek

Momo's first lessons at the Academy with Peppy and Oliver went without a hitch, or so she would like to think. For a sorceress to walk so freely under the roof of a human facility, it was already a wonder to her how she was not randomly ambushed, or kicked out the moment someone saw her, donned in a grey robe and clutching old textbooks close to her chest, or both. Call her paranoid, but her legs never gave up the itch to run, and every so often her eyes darted around, taking in the by now all-so-familiar surroundings, noticing every crack and mold.

Now that she was living in the Academy, breathing its air, hearing its sound, stepping on its tiles and turning its halls, she started to feel suffocated. Whatever confidence she used to convince Muffin of her conviction was gone, and she started to doubt herself. Despite remembering well Frodo and Juliana's promise of safety behind these walls, despite her own promise to the ghost sorcerer to keep treading her path through adversities for him to see a hopeful future, despite it all, fear ate away her soul. It was irrational, it was frustrating, name it whatever feeling that made itself home in her heart, it tightened and refused to leave. Before she realized it, she had gotten into the habit of making herself as small and unnoticeable as possible. Just like before everything, before she met Goldiha and Teris. Just like when she was used to scurrying, hiding.

For the first few weeks, there was really nothing to be afraid of. Oliver would bark in excitement at every corner, and except a few pointed glares from the staff members that disapproved of Juliana's stunt, things went smoothly. Even Peppy started pulling pranks every here and there, for which they had to spend a good while cleaning up afterward as an apology, but they had a good laugh.

Still, dread kept crawling unreasonably. Momo found her gaze often landing on the dark ceiling of the Library, where cobwebs spread, or the doors left astray of unused rooms, and especially the trees. With its auburn foliage gone to make place for pads of pristine white snow, Momo felt like she could breathe a little more easily than had it not. Jack had said that winter was supposed to be the season of the end, the death of a cycle, that snow buried dark things, but Momo believed otherwise. The shadow that loomed within the shade of a thriving tree would be much scarier.

She used to take cover in them. Why..?

"Let's go," Frodo said, with a sigh that puffed up his bubble-like cheeks. Momo snapped out of the trance. What was she even thinking about, anyway? Zoning out would do her no good, and she had been doing the exact same thing a lot as of late.

"H-huh?" she stuttered, finding herself outside the library, in one of the practice fields, walking away from the buildings.

"We're going to our secret spot, remember? We've agreed that you're too cooped up inside, and now's time for some fresh air!"

"What about Peppy? And Oliver?"

"Nimbus and Jack will take turns guiding them later, but since you arrived first, you get to go first!" Frodo replied, somewhat mischievously, before breaking into a sprint, dragging the cat along. Between breaths, he explained how this little spot worked so well as their comfort zone outside of the walls: it was tranquil, mostly undiscovered yet safe; it remained within bounds of the Academy, but nobody bothered to go the length; it was a place where noisy critters where drowned by the voice of nature as it spoke, it sang, it danced ever so gracefully.

Many paces into the woods, Momo realized his words were utter truth without any exaggerations. Under the dancing sunlight of Saturday morning, they made footsteps in the snow. Frodo was wrapped in fluffy winter clothes and boots to prevent himself from collapsing from coldness - he also slept a lot more lately due to his nature - while Momo had a simple coat, mufflers and socks on. Everything was so serene in a way that it felt holy, so much that either dared to utter a word. They walked past the woods in silence, then in the open, down a slippery dirt path that went through a field littered with abandoned ruins, through another sparse woods, then around a hill, down a small valley. The winds continued to sweep, but the creek, the thin body of water flowed lazily as it passed through the valley to meet the river. Fishes had hidden themselves, for it was winter, and parts of the creek were frozen over.