15: Red String

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Mr. Wiser grins mischievously as I suddenly stand up, my chair making a horrid screech on the floor. Personally, I have no idea why I reacted like that but if I had to I would guess it had something to do with the way Mr. Wiser seemed to be up to no good.

"A mate," I repeat unsurely. I've heard of mates before, but they generally refer to werewolves. There was little information I knew about them, so this is news to me. I cautiously step back, placing desks as distance between me and my warlock teacher as he laughs lightly.

"In general terms, mate is what you would use to describe it," he said, tapping his chin thoughtfully. "But for witches, the correct term to use would be Red String." I tilt my head to the side in confusion. "Red string," I said, testing it on my tongue.

A thought came to me. "Like the Red String of Fate? Didn't you mention in the story that witches were able to see their red string?" The Red String of Fate is what ties us to the people we are destined to meet in this life, I know that much but I feel like there's something missing.

Upon looking up I see Mr. Wiser in front of me. I stumble back, surprised to see him so close so suddenly but back up into the wall. His golden eyes shine in sickening interest as he places his hands on the wall, blocking me from escape. I look up at him, trying not to show the fact that I was afraid to an extent.

"You haven't come of age yet," Mr. Wiser said, dipping his head closer. I flatten myself to the wall in an attempt to put space between us, holding my breath at the stench of death. "Mr. Wiser," I wheeze out, "ever heard of personal space?" I push away his arms in an attempt to prove my point.

He stands back up, towering over me and watches me with a blank expression. I stare back steadily, trying not to fidget with my hands. "You haven't seen your Red String yet, have you?" Mr. Wiser said finally.

"If it's anything like the red string tied around your finger like I've heard about, then no."

"Then you are not sixteen yet." A smirk curls out on his face, morphing his handsome features into that of a sinister man. My stomach clenches in warning as he laughs coldly. "This is going to be interesting."

"Where's your familiar, hm?" he asks. "Aren't they supposed to protect their witch?" Mr. Wiser reaches out to flick my forehead, but a paw swats it away. The weight on my shoulder was reassuring as Morrigan hisses at the warlock. "Don't even think of touching my Bonded!" she spat angrily.

He laughs at the small cat curled around my shoulder. "A feisty familiar for a spirited witch!" he exclaims, smiling with a calculating interest. "The Moon Goddess certainly made a good pair."

The bell rings for the end of school but instead of bolting out of the classroom like I want to, Mr. Wiser subtly flicks his wrist and locks the door. I glance at the door before turning my glare on the warlock. Before I could speak the choice words I had in mind, Mr. Wiser hold up his and and cuts me off.

"Before I let you go," he smooths out, "you must understand that the Red String of your fate is something you cannot unravel. It will weave its course into the fabric of everything else. You will meet your Red String at some point in your life and if I had learned anything in the centuries I have been alive then it would be that everything has purpose. You being brought here to Wintervale is no different." Mr. Wiser pauses for a moment and thinks before continuing with a tricky smirk, "Since you are not of age now, you will be before today next year. It might be tomorrow or next week. It could be two months or ten months from now, but you will see."

"I won't stay here long enough for you to know," I snap without thinking. I shut my mouth before anything else I could regret comes out and gets my ass kicked. Instead of bursting with anger like I thought he would, Mr. Wiser gives a humorless laugh.

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