After dressing, Katja grabbed pastries from the Essen Hall for a quick breakfast, then hurried into the meeting, or Treffen, Hall, where the other six-year-olds were already starting to take their places on wooden benches as two elder witches looked on from the sidelines.
Affinity Testing took place four times a year, on the seasonal solstice or equinox, and after a child turned six, she underwent testing at the next change of seasons. Katja had turned six at the end of June, and she was grateful the Autumnal Equinox had finally arrived.
At precisely eight o'clock, Sprechen Olwyn strode behind the podium. The Sprechen was the witch who served as the coven's leader and spoke on behalf of the Hexen, and a different one was named every new moon. The red-haired witch cleared her throat, and the room fell so silent, Katja doubted the woman would even need to apply an amplification spell to her voice.
"Good morning, witchlings," smiled Sprechen Olwyn. "Today is a very exciting day, and I know you're all eager to discover your affinities."
Katja nodded, swinging her boots back and forth below the bench in nervous excitement.
"Seeing as how we have quite a few participants this equinox, we will divide you into two groups," Sprechen Olwyn explained, gazing out at the assembled children. "Over the next few days, you'll complete a series of tests. I can assure you the tests aren't painful or scary; they're simply designed to reveal your affinity.
"While all witches can cast certain spells or brew certain potions, each witch has an individual affinity, unique to her, that allows her to interact with the world around her in a special way. Affinities benefit both the individual witch, as well as our entire coven."
She spoke further on the importance of community before inclining her head and saying in a reverential voice, "For each of us; for all of us."
"For each of us; for all of us," repeated the young witches.
Sprechen Olwyn then dismissed them, and with that, it began, the elder witches swooping in from the sidelines and organizing the children into two groups before heading off in opposite directions.
Katja found herself in a group with four other children—Elise, Mila, Rosamund, and Liesel. It wasn't as if she didn't know them; after all, they'd shared the same bedroom for as long as she could remember. For some reason, the children born to the Hexen witches were always girls, and regardless of whether they had just a mother or an entire family, all children lived the first decade or so of their life in the dormitory, a practice intended to foster friendships.
But Katja had never felt especially comfortable around any of these girls, and so she trailed quietly after them as they chatted and laughed, following a woman named Tante Bettina into an open, light-filled room made almost entirely of windows.
Until a girl turned eighteen, it was customary to refer to witches older than herself using the title Tante, even though the two people usually weren't actually related, but the term reiterated the importance of relationships and strengthened the bonds of the coven every time it was spoken.
"Listen up!" said Tante Bettina, clapping her hands loudly for emphasis. The cluster of girls immediately fell silent, and the witch clasped her hands behind her back and squared her shoulders, looking more like a general addressing her troops than a blacksmith speaking to children.
"While I'm sure you each have your own idea of what will happen this week, allow me to assure you the next five days are going to be challenging," she said without further preface, her gaze moving over each girl.
The mood among the group immediately changed as the girls looked at one another in surprise. Most of the Hexen had spent the past month telling them how wonderful this week would be.
"While it's very exciting to discover your affinity," continued Tante Bettina, "it's also like looking for a needle in a haystack. You'll find it, eventually, but it's going to take time, and, in the case of your testing, you'll most likely spend the first few days discovering everything you don't have an affinity for. This can be very discouraging, but it's not intended to be; it's simply part of the process.
"Every witch has an affinity, and many of them aren't uncovered until the very last day of testing. So, if the days go by and you don't find yourself connecting with anything, don't get upset. Just go on to the next test, because eventually you will discover your affinity."
Elise raised a hand, and Tante Bettina nodded at her.
"What if we're really good at more than one thing?" Elise asked, tossing her long blonde hair over her shoulder. While she didn't state it explicitly, it was obvious from the look on her face she was referring to herself.
"Having an affinity for something isn't the same as being good at something," explained Tante Bettina. "And just because you enjoy doing something doesn't mean you have an affinity for it. For something to truly be your affinity, you must connect with it the same way a key fits into a lock. When you discover it, you'll know. This is why testing takes so long and covers so many things—you'll be good at more than one thing, and you'll enjoy more than one thing, but you'll only ever have one affinity."
"How will we know what our affinity is?" pressed Elise, and Tante Bettina simply smiled.
"It's different for everyone," she said. "I don't know what it will feel like for you; all I can say is, you'll know."
Elise frowned, clearly displeased with the answer, but Tante Bettina moved on.
"As Sprechen Olwyn said, your affinity will benefit not only you, but the entire Hexen," she said. "Everyone who lives here contributes to the community in some way using their affinity, and you will be no different. Today, we're going to start with the arts, beginning with painting."
She introduced two witches who worked as artists, creating anything from large murals throughout the castle to small paintings that were sold to travelers in the Hexen shop. They explained that, in addition to painting images or scenes on walls, they also painted on boxes, plates, vases, and other surfaces, as well as painting portraits for any Hexen who wished to have them.
Katja wondered if either of them had painted the portrait of her mother, but she was too nervous to ask.
Instead, she admired the vials of paint and gently ran her finger over the soft bristles of a brush, amazed at how many different sizes they came in. Each girl was given an apron and an easel and encouraged to paint whatever came to mind.
Katja chose to paint the forest across the river, and while her final creation was an acceptable imitation, it was by no means impressive. She liked seeing the lines of paint on the paper, but it was frustrating picturing something so clearly inside her head, only to be unable to recreate it on her canvas.
After they finished painting, they moved on to musical aptitude, which consisted of each girl taking a turn with an instrument. Much to Katja's relief, they didn't have to go one at a time and perform in front of one another...there were different music stations overseen by Hexen musicians, and each girl chose a station and stayed there until it was time to switch.
Katja had never thought of herself as particularly musical, although she liked to listen to the performances put on by the Hexen musicians, which could range from an impromptu solo concert to an organized recital attended by everyone in the castle. She tried her hand at numerous instruments, and while she enjoyed the piano best, nothing was especially moving or exciting, and she decided she preferred listening as an audience member to playing an instrument herself.
As she got up from the piano she'd been sitting at, the sound of a violin filled the room, and the music was so achingly beautiful she stopped and simply listened, amazed at the rise and fall of the melody. The song sounded of longing, regret, and wishing things were different, and tears suddenly rose in her eyes. When the music stopped, she blinked the wetness away, then hurried over to where everyone was gathering around Mila, who was holding a violin and grinning broadly.
"I can't believe it!" she exclaimed. "I've played a few times before, but this was completely different. It was like the violin just took over!"
"How did you do that?" demanded Elise, hands on her hips.
"I don't know," replied Mila, carefully cradling the instrument. "As soon as I picked up the violin, the music just popped into my head." She cringed under Elise's sharp gaze, but still managed to say, "It's what the violin wanted to play, so, I helped it."
Elise rolled her eyes, but one of the musicians placed a hand on her shoulder.
"You'll see, Elise," the woman promised. "When you connect with your affinity, you'll communicate with magic in a way that won't make sense to most people. But it will make sense to you, and that's all that matters."
Everyone congratulated Mila on having discovered her affinity, and Katja couldn't find it within herself to be jealous, as she had no interest in playing an instrument in front of people. Also, while discovering your affinity sooner rather than later had to be an enormous relief, it didn't exempt you from participating in the remaining tests, as it was important for everyone to have a basic knowledge of the various jobs it took to keep the Hexen community functioning.
Still, Katja hoped her own affinity would be revealed soon.
After lunch, they headed on to storytelling, followed by poetry writing, glassblowing, and pottery.
Storytelling consisted of two different tasks—the first involved listening to a story, memorizing it, and then retelling it, and the second required each girl to come up with a story completely on her own.
For Katja, the worst part was being forced to stand up and talk in front of the group, and she felt her cheeks burn as she started to recite the story she'd memorized. Elise snickered, which caused Katja to feel even more self-conscious, and she eventually only completed the story by keeping her eyes glued to the floor and not looking at the audience.
This was particularly unfortunate because she loved stories and had taught herself to read at the age of four. Perhaps this simply meant she was destined to enjoy the stories created by others rather than writing them herself, which wasn't a terribly bad deal the more she thought about it.
The poems Katja created were nice but no more than that, and she failed miserably at trying to throw a clay pot on the potter's wheel, ending up with a spinning lump of mud and streaks of clay across her face. Glassblowing didn't go any better, and she felt terrible when she broke the admittedly odd-looking piece she'd been working on, apologizing profusely to the Hexen artisan who'd been patiently helping her.
As evening approached and testing drew to a close, the girls gathered around Tante Bettina. No one else had discovered their affinity, and the group was quiet as they waited to be dismissed.
"Everyone other than Mila, remember what I said," Tante Bettina instructed them. "Every witch has an affinity. You will find yours this week; it's only a matter of time. Today was very informative, in that it told us what you don't have affinity for. Knowledge is never wasted."
The girls nodded, but Katja wondered if they felt as disappointed as she did. Had any of them wanted to have an affinity for the things they'd been tested on today? She was so excited at the prospect of having any affinity, she didn't particularly care what it was, but the others might feel differently and might even want to possess a certain skill. She considered asking them, but then decided they likely wouldn't want to discuss it.
As the other girls walked away, Elise assuring everyone she would no doubt discover her affinity the following day, Katja hesitated. This would probably be her best chance to ask an aunt about her mother's affinity, but even though it involved her own parent, she felt like she was prying or trying to gather information not meant for her.
"Yes, Katja?" asked Tante Bettina. "Did you have a question?"
"I was just wondering," Katja swallowed hard, then forced her gaze up to the other witch's face. "Do you know what my mother's affinity was?"
Tante Bettina looked taken aback. "No one has ever told you?"
Katja shook her head, her heartbeat speeding up. Had her mother not had an affinity? Or had the affinity she'd possessed not been a good one?
Tante Bettina's weathered face softened as a smile pulled her lips upwards.
"How about this—I'll tell you what your mother's affinity was after you discover yours. I don't want you putting any pressure on yourself, because while it's true children sometimes have the same affinity as their mother, other times they have a completely different gift. I want you to celebrate whatever your affinity turns out to be without feeling disappointed if it ends up being different from your mother's. But make no mistake, I'll tell you all you wish to know about your mother's gift as soon as we discover yours."
"Alright," Katja agreed, relieved she'd finally asked the fateful question and grateful Tante Bettina had taken her request seriously. "Thank you."
After washing and eating dinner, Katja was exhausted, as were all the other girls in her dormitory, and everyone fell asleep far earlier than usual without the giggling and chatter typical of most evenings in the shared living space.
As she drifted off to sleep, Katja couldn't help but wonder what the following day would bring. Now that discovering her affinity meant learning about her mother, she was more anxious than ever to uncover her unique connection to magic.
(Artwork by MaLyKa from Pixabay)