Marvela Mystic | ✔️

Chapter 10 ✨ Worthy

"Asra," Marvela answered, still transfixed by the curious vibrations. "She's—"

Olive's misty eyes widened. Her spectacles almost slid off her face as she lurched in her chair. "Asra?" the old woman repeated. "Asra! Ha! That old bat's still kickin' too, huh? Funny. Coulda sworn she had gone up in smoke long ago."

"Well, she did. Multiple times, apparently. But she—"

Olive held out a wrinkled, age-spotted hand to stop her. "Let me guess. She made a deal with a spirit to revive her, and now that spirit's finally comin' to collect. Pah! Yeah, that sounds just like Asra. Would be a real shame to see her get dragged down to the Spirit Realm. That woman never returned my potion ladle I lent her centuries ago."

Marvela swished her tail across the floor. She swore it felt like it brushed against something. Or... somethings. "That's why she's destroying other witches. So she can—"

"Ah! Again, let me guess. So she can stand up to that spirit and avoid paying her dues. That right?"

"Pretty much, yeah. So you need to—"

There was a squelching crunch. All eyes in the room went to Curious on the floor next to Marvela. The rat raised a foot. Stuck to the underside of it was a flattened black fuzzy spider. "Ah! So sorry!" he squealed, peeling off the spider. With an irritable shake of its tiny body, the spider scurried away.

And joined the rest of the thousands of black spiders that skittered about around them all.

The kitten laughed as a realization hit her. Spiders. That's why everything seemed to be moving; it was covered in tiny spiders.

All around the house, spiders traveled via an intricate network of webs. They worked together to nurse the numerous potted plants to perfect health, nipping off any browned leaves and using their webbing to support any drooping stems. Those that weren't hard at work were nestled together amongst the leaves of Olive's plants, sipping on droplets of dew as they conversed in their silent spider language.

Marvela had a soft spot for things that were tiny and fuzzy. She smiled at Olive's spiders before dipping her head apologetically to the old witch. "Sorry! My familiar accidentally stepped on one of your, uh... familiars?"

"My familiars?" said the witch. She scooped up a handful of spiders and caressed them lovingly with a finger. Marvela's sensitive ears could barely pick up the nearly inaudible appreciative squeaks of the spiders. "Pah! Oh, kitty, ol' Olive hasn't had a familiar in a long time. I just like to keep these little fellows around 'cause they keep all the bugs away. And in return, I give them a place to live where people won't squash them." She side-eyed the rat, and he rushed to hide behind Marvela.

The kitten tilted her head to the side at Olive's words. "No familiar? But... how do you manage your magic without someone to assist you?"

The old woman released her spiders with a sigh. "I get by. When you live as long as I have, you see a lot of people come and go from your life. It got so tiring to say goodbye to all the familiars I've cherished over the years. That's the true curse of this world; that animals don't live as long as people, let alone witches, do. Even the ones we give our magic to. Even the ones we love."

Olive watched the spiders rejoin their friends amongst the plants, her eyes welling with love behind her spectacles. Marvela watched them for a moment too. A hollow feeling grew inside her.

"Olive," the kitten said. "I'm sorry, but you need to take what you can and leave—"

The witch snorted a laugh. "Leave? Oh, little kitty. I ain't leavin'. Like I said. I'm tired. Too tired to run. If Asra wants me, she'll catch me no matter what."