Eglantine

The witches have a thing with sunsets, Evelina noticed. It could be after it or while it was occurring, but she was really certain that there's something between that time of day and witches.

She was still in process of being a perfect tree that West would be satisfied with (who is she kidding, there's no such thing as West's satisfaction) when Nelle went over to fetch them saying that they're the only couple left that weren't at the stage. "The sun will fall soon. You can't delay the others just because she can't keep up."

The young woman didn't dare throw her a look but Evelina could still feel irritation stabbing through her. The insult was obvious and Nelle didn't hide the acid in her voice in expressing it out to the male witch.

But Evelina fought her desire to speak. She couldn't, especially not towards the founder's daughter. Even with how much she loathed it, she needed to find her way to be favoured by the troupe.

"They are all still adjusting," West countered, glancing sideways towards Evelina.

"They could adjust for the whole season. What I'm saying is that how about we respect Hellen and the others' who were already there while you two are still diddling around."

As if they were just diddling around!

West sighed and called on to Evelina. "Let's go."

Evelina didn't know what audience the troupe was talking about. Eldham wasn't much welcoming towards the night sky. From warmth, the air grew cold. There were less people outside, and they were either going home from somewhere or going out to the tavern, the only place where they could drink and be freely happy. While the street stage…

Well, it was just there.

No one paid attention to the masked people who were on it.

Throwing one last glance at West, Evelina joined the other recruits.

"What are we to do now?" Freeda asked, smoothening her skirt.

Evelina noticed the necklace that the woman was holding. It had a smooth opaque rock as its pendant, orange veined within it's yellowness. She wondered what it was for as Freeda was holding to the lace tightly.

"Give your roles here," said Patrick. He showed the piece of parchment on his hand which says '8 year old.'

So they weren't all objects! But another question surfaced, and it was that how could he do it? It's not like he could tell his body to go back ten years in time. Or was there a spell for that? Sure, Evelina may be trying to move on from her 'underestimating the witches' thing but she's sure that there are limitations to their powers. Just like how hers is limited to them.

"I'm a bird," said Freeda.

"Old lady," Sybil muttered, stepping backwards as if expecting her brother to shield her from her embarrassment. "I'm an old lady."

"At least you have a role that moves when I'm only a bench," Royce joked to her sister, ruffling her hair, and making the other witches laugh, too.

It was uncomfortable for Evelina to watch them. They looked like they've already adjusted with each other, putting her out of place. She recalled the same feeling with West when they were on their way to the stage. It was obvious how Nelle was quite mad at him, probably because it was him who requested for the vampiress to join, but she could still act normally when they were conversing with each other, their topics flying from how her father had always favoured him and how West teased her for her jealousy. She walked quietly behind them, forgotten.

"You haven't told us what your role is."

Evelina blinked, her gaze meeting Freeda's. "My-my role?" she stuttered.

The woman nodded, smiling. The others were quiet, only waiting for her answer.

"I'm a tree."

"Alright!" Patrick clapped. "Now that that is everyone, Hellen gave me this," he showed them a box with masks inside. They were of different colors now, more complex than basic. Evelina frowned, remembering how she couldn't take hers off before. "If anyone noticed, they charmed the masks earlier. They do that all the time, even in my troupe. It's so that we wouldn't be recognized outside of our theatrical appearance. They removed it now to give us freedom to choose which color we think would suit our characters best."

"A tree, an old woman, a bird, a kid, and a bench," Freeda's eyes traveled to each one of them. "The colors pretty much already speak for our roles, though. What we need is a story, a plan."

Royce stepped forward. "It's clearly about a normal day in the capital. But what could be the context?"

"Eglantine!"

It was the other side of Sybil who spoke. The cheerful and at awe one who, as Evelina once thought, betrayed her. "Eglantine is the name of the troupe."

Oh. She did not know that.

"And?" Patrick furrowed his brows.

"We make a story about the name?"

Eglantine. How does one make a story about a name that is rarely heard?

Royce looked past them. He forced out a smile at someone, nodding his head, before returning his attention back to them.

"Better make a decision with that story now. They're already hurrying us up."

Evelina turned around and sure enough, the five witches were already looking at them expectedly.

"Right! Erm...Eglantine, eglantine," Freeda closed her eyes, her hand tightening its grip on her necklace. "Surely the only ones who are to speak are Sybil and Patrick. So should the tree just stand, the bird just fly, and the bench just...be seated at?"

"Should they?" Evelina couldn't help but voice out. "But did they not tell us that they are more than these mere things we thought them to be? A tree can do more than stand still, a bird will fly but what of its feelings and surroundings? And a bench...could either be a wood or stone and they both have their own characteristics."

She had no idea where her opinions were coming from. What she did think was that West made her do more than just stand around, maybe a countless times, and perhaps the point of getting their partner's satisfaction there was to make them realize that a thing is beyond just that.

Of course, it was only a guess. And maybe something that could support her opinion if they ever reveal that they were against it.

"She's right," said Freeda. "I can't just flap my arms once and completely disappear after the scenes."

"Then what?"

"We're clearly under pressure here," Royce said, acting as the still sane person out of the group. It was a far personality from the glares she received from him. It was new, as if he was being a brother to not just one person. Evelina didn't know if she was one of them. "Three ideas. Normal day, eglantine, and more than what they seem."

"Yes?"

"We mix them up, of course."

--*--

"They aren't planning a script! Just one scene! How could the five of them be still there?" West listened to Giles' chatter, his voice annoyed.

"How long did it take your group then?" Leila asked, her eyes also at the new recruits' circle.

"A short period of time!" Giles answered, rolling his eyes at the woman. "We all know how that went."

West chuckled at the memory. Giles was one of their new recruits when they were back in Mirefield, one of the known provinces in Merotus. The troupe was only starting then, Sir Duncan taking interest in running theatre again while both West and Nelle were taking their time learning the basics from the elder.

Mirefield was the land of many witches. People there were aware of who they were but they couldn't care less for both benefits from one another. Herbs were thriving and the energy was calm and cleansing. The province was already perfect in itself. But Sir Duncan didn't want to stay. "If one town could accept us, then the others could, too," he once said.

Both West and Nelle were originally against it. Who would seek adventure in this dangerous time when they could live as peaceful and as freely as they can in one? But the old man was insistent, and they could not just leave them be for he was their guardian.

That was why the two performed separate monologues, calling on those who were interested in the new way of spreading freedom to their magic.

Giles was kind of an adventurer, himself. At the age of fifteen, he had been wanting to go out of Mirefield to find what it was that he truly wanted for himself. He didn't want to be killed for being a witch, but he didn't want to stay hidden either. When he found out about Sir Duncan building a troupe that may be a way out of the province, he considered his chances and decided to join.

"Your group was first and will always be the best at tests like this," Nelle told Giles, laughing at the memory.

"We surely are! I didn't become a literal flying rat for nothing."

The group laughed.

The bright silver moon shone down at Eldham, but there was a sudden shifting of the light. No, not the light. It was the energy from the night's illumination that was shifting- and it was headed towards the stage.

The actors turned to their new recruits' direction, expected surprise written on their faces.

"Curtain!" Patrick yelled, his voice booming.