"And that's really what caused them to establish a social hierarchy, and later helped them to survive the intense flood-" Mr. Benson was suddenly cut off by the sound of a robotic voice cutting through a loudspeaker.

'Please prepare for a school lockdown. Shut windows, lock doors. This is not a drill.'

A what? My heartbeat began to pound in my ears to the wail of the alarms. The school had never had a lockdown before, not even a practice one. School break-ins and massacres were a thing of the past, something I'd learn about when I reached the early 2000s section of History class, not experience firsthand. Is there a fire? But even that wasn't an issue with all the elemental Witches out there. There was a reason regulated school drills hadn't been a thing for more than fifty years, but whatever was going on... it was big enough to cause one right here, right now.

My eyes flicked around wildly between my classmates, but they all looked just as confused as I was. As the lights flicked off, I could see my teacher holding a finger to his mustache. Shh! It was understood, but that didn't mean that desks weren't scrapped against the floor, window blinds weren't torn down in a panic, and random whispers and frenzied taps from cell phone texts didn't happen. Yanking my wand out of my backpack, I walked to the corner where others huddled as Mr. Benson locked the door, pressing his back against it. Screams sounded from the hallway, most likely teens who weren't as good at following instructions, but they quickly died down into an eerie silence.

What's going on? It all seemed so random, sitting in the dark with no further instructions, when I heard shouts from outside the window.

"Free our children!"

"Mixed schools are a sin!"

My mind immediately thought of the cult. They're resurfacing again? But I had sealed the potions. Were they going to try to break in and steal them in broad daylight? What kind of a plan is that?

My faith in humanity, or at least, Witchkind had dropped a good dozen points when my thoughts were interrupted by a final cry out of the many. "Witches should've stayed in hiding. Bring back the trials!"

I narrowed my eyes at the floor. So it wasn't the cult. It was a group of Humans. I hadn't given it much attention with how loud the other end was being about things, but it made sense if one side was going to fight, so would the other. But that means... 

Goosebumps prickled up my arms as I felt my classmates' eyes crawl over me, reminding me about the wand in my hand. It felt like I was holding it in bad taste now, and I noticed once again that this was one of the few classes I had with almost no Witches in it. My cheeks began to burn in embarassment, when a shot rang out.

I'd never heard a gunshot before. Not outside of movies. It peeled out like a firework before a second sound like shattered pavement hit my ears, assumedly from the bullet making contact. A guy next to me let out a scream.

"They have a gun?" He threw his freckled hands over his head. The only other Witch in class covered up her face as she tugged her hoodie up to hide the tears rolling down it.

"Apparently," my teacher whispered, running his hands through his frazzled hair. "That being said, I know this is terrifying, but let's try to keep quiet as best we can. It's the only thing we can do."

"They're not even here for us," the same kid muttered out of the side of his mouth. "They don't want a mixed school; we should just hand over the Witches." It came out matter-of-fact, like it was the obvious answer.

"Gee, thanks." I raised my voice a bit to be heard over the shouts outside, but left it at that. Maybe in the past I would have torn him a new one, but right now it just seemed so... pointless? Another bullet was fired, and somewhere off in the distance, window glass shattered, erupting more cries.

I jumped, but whether it was from the fear of being shot, or not knowing what was even happening, I couldn't tell. I shook my head, letting out an aggravated sigh. This is ridiculous. I pushed myself out of the huddle of bodies, ignoring the few warnings and the 'hey' from the boy. The other end of the room seemed impossibly far, images of being shot-- dead-- sending a tremble through my body at each step, but I finally reached the window sill, peering through a crack in the blinds. 

It was a sea of heads. Random Humans, most of them parents, had formed their own mob, signs and guns raised in retaliation. The cops hadn't arrived yet, but I could make out someone exit the building, splitting the riot like a green Moses to an angry sea. It can't be... Dekoran? 

But there was no denying it was him, from the sleeved robe to the wooden staff, standing before the crowd. There was something different about the orb in it though. It wasn't its usual, empty grey. Instead, the ball was much lighter pink, losing its perfectly spherical shape to form a rounded blob that swirled drops around itself in its own gravity. With a raise of his arms, spirits, both natural and of the dead, peeled out of the ground, the air, their shapes becoming more solid and defined as he sent them towards the quickly dissipating crowd. I watched the black silohettes rush towards them, reaching out fingers of shadow to swipe at whoever dared to stick around. It almost looks like... Elliot's magik? If spirits could be made into physical forms? It was some type of spirit control, to be sure. Dekoran must have borrowed it off another Witch to fight them off.

Then a pair of hands wrapped around my waist and shoulders. I went to scream, but my throat went dry. I turned my head.

"All right, that's enough of that!" It was my teacher, his face full of disappointment. I breathed a sigh of relief as his grip fell away. "What were you thinking? They could have shot you through the window. You could get hurt!"

I just deadpan stared at him. There was a potion launcher sitting on my bed right now that I could've used to do pretty much the same thing as Dekoran, but I wasn't allowed to look out a window? Not like I'd basically helped fight off a riot last week or anything though. What kinda two-sided pilsh is that?

The next half an hour I'd say was spent in silence, if silence meant the random blaring of sirens outside, entitled people calling out how I should be dead for some reason or another, and whispering of classmates around me. My fist clenched at another wayward comment suggested that without me, none of this would have happened, but I released it with a sigh. What would that even do anyway? Start another fight? Start even more fear? That didn't fix anything. 

'You may now exit lockdown mode. Students should not leave class under any circumstances, but will be escorted towards emergency busses shortly.' The voice on the loudspeak died with the last of the sirens, inciting a shuffle as everyone went to break out of the huddle at once. Moments later, I was back in my seat, digging for my phone. I should let my parents know what happened. To my surprise though, I'd apparently been messenged first, the lock screen showing a total of fifty-two messages. What?

I tapped on a circle made up of five different profile pictures, opening up a group chat created over an hour ago when the lockdown had started. The first text was from Dustin.

Hey, is everyone okay? Please respond as soon as you can, so if something happens, we can help.

They're right outside my class, Liesel had replied after that. I tried calling 911, but the line was full. Please stay safe you guys.

JESUS CHRIST!

The notification from Gwen shocked me for a second, my chest tightening as I hurredly scrolled through the next couple word.

They shot through the window. The one next to my desk. If they hadn't had us sit in the corner... It would have gone through my head. The shrapnel is sitting a few feet away from me

Oh my gods. That's awful. I'm so glad you're okay!!! The heart emote after Blyke's message was a bit much, but I couldn't help but agree with him. Somebody I knew, dying just like that? I drew in a shaky breath to try and slow my ever-quickening heartrate. These people are crazy. Gwen didn't even do anything. What if-

Has anyone heard from Crow? He hasn't responded yet, the newest addition, this time from Liesel, pulled me through the paragraphs I'd missed to the most recent messages, all worrying about me.

Oh. I should also probably let them know I didn't die.

I sent back a reply saying that I was fine, when a knock rattled the classroom door on its hinges. Mr. Benson gingerly peered out, but it was just a female guard with a bob cut, similar to the ones that scanned Witches every morning.

"Taking the kids to the bus," she mentioned tersely, before waving to us to follow her out.

The hallways stood empty, every sound echoing louder as hundreds of sneakers made their way through. The amount of fear radiating through the rooms hung heavy on me, a shaking sensation racking my body. Other Witches were usually good at magik basics, and could have shielded their energy from the onslaught of negativity, but with nothing like that on my side, it all hit me at once. Any sense of energy I'd gotten from the heater in class fled instantly, dragging me back to the same lethargic state. 

It continued that way, all of us in a line, with me twitching wildly like a five-year-old with no grasp on magik as the guard dropped each person off at a different spot in the parking lot. The bus I was pointed to wasn't my typical one, but it wasn't like it'd been a typical day either. Go figure it takes an entire riot to get me out of gym class. At least I got that much going for me. There was certainly no way I was walking laps when I could barely pull myself up a set of stairs. I did at least manage to climb onto the bus though, flopping into a seat as I glanced at my phone again.

"Oh my goodness, Crow! I thought you had died at first." My tired eyes shot open as I was yanked into a soft, gentle hug, Dustin wrapping his arms around me. "If I make an emergency chat, you need to respond faster next time." 

I was going to point out how he shouldn't be reprimanding me, when I noticed him giving me a strange look. "Are you all right? Your..." He seemed to struggle to put words to it, tapping his fingers together in thought. "Your self, isn't normal. You don't feel the same."

I raised an eyebrow. I personally knew my magik was off, but that wasn't something Humans could notice. At least, they weren't supposed to. "You can tell that?" I asked incredulously.

"Yeah. Certain things have seemed... more alive, or at least easier to read since the riot. Usually you give off a specific type of feeling... like cranberry sauce!"

"Cranberry sauce?" I squinted at him. What is he talking about?

"Yeah, that's your general self, but it doesn't taste the same now to sit by you. It's... rotten, or something?" He smiled sheepishly at me. "Sorry, it's hard to explain."

"Don't worry about it. I'll be fine. Thanks." Satisfied with this, he stopped talking, turning to look out the window. I let him be. I had enough to mull over, and I didn't want him reading anymore into me with his newfound magik sensitivity.

I'd never heard of magik coming across like a flavor to anyone before, but that had to be what he was talking about. There was nothing else it could be. But he's Human. That's not something he should even have. If he'd been like that since the riot, when he'd used magik somehow... it meant my potion had done something to him. Something permanent, where, days after the riot, I could still taste fortune-cookie flavored magik passively sitting in him:There, but out of reach. I had no idea what that meant for him, or if there would be more side effects in the long run, but I didn't want to scare him. My mind trailed back to what his sister had told me only a few days before. Even now, Dustin was staring out the window, a lost look in his eyes, like he was barely even there. 

I frowned, turning back to my phone as I kept my mouth shut. He didn't need to worry about anything else. It wasn't his problem.

Blyke was the last person to get onto the bus. He sat next to me, but said nothing the entire trip. None of us did. Dustin was curled up against the window with his purple hood pulled up, Blyke was on his phone, fingers shaking as he typed, while I focused on the shaking ceiling. It wasn't until it was my turn to get off that I opened my mouth to say goodbye. I had just pushed myself up off the seat when Blyke tapped my arm. I glanced back, a chill running through my arms as I caught sight of his face, dead serious for once.

"I'm glad I made you that thing, because I have a feeling we're gonna need it real soon. Be careful, okay?"

"I will," was all I said before stepping off. I walked in the door, getting a tight fling of a hug from my mom, and a ton of scared questions from my sister. It felt like forever before I finally got away from them into my room where I flopped onto my bed to think.

It's all so... surreal. Yeah, there had always been social tension, even eighty or so years ago with different races or identities. That was how the world worked. I'd dealt with some hateful comments in my life. But now this was going beyond just some news on a channel I could turn off. This was becoming my life, another period of reform. 

Blyke's words held up my train of thought for a moment. 'Be careful'. Were they going to target me? I'd given the Witch side an advantage, whether I'd wanted to or not. I couldn't think of any other reason for the Human's to target my school in particular unless it was a protest at me. My name was out there, that was for sure, and a quick scroll through the news made it very clear my school had been the only one that had had a riot.

I threw my arm up, bending at the elbow to rest it over my eyes. I had a choice. I could ignore this, same as I always had. Several people were out there right now, all just going to continue their lives after this. I could do the same... or I could start preparing a defence. I had secured the potions, but I wasn't the only one who went to my school, and now just by going there, I was putting everyone in danger just by attending. Gwen could've easily been shot. 

I barely knew her, but that didn't stop the heavy feeling settling in my chest, my blood from boiling beneath my skin. I shot up in bed.

Absolutely not! I don't want that for anyone. My knees swung over the side, pulling the sheets off. I didn't have my supplies; those were all still at school, but hadn't I done just fine at Elliot's house with a pot of lemonade? I didn't need anything fancy, and certain recipes I'd basically memorized by now. 

I got a pot of water in the kitchen, coming back to my room with handfuls of cilantro and rosemary raided from the pantry. There were weeds outside and if I needed more ingredients I'd take my bike to the store. The water sloshed as I clattered the pot to the floor. I tugged one of the potion bottles Blyke had bought out of the bag, popping off the cork. Something about having a plan made me feel more determined, and, glancing at my bed again, I decided to grab my phone off the edge of it.

"Hey Elliot?" I asked as he picked up on the third ring. "Change of plans. You know how I said we were going to make those potions for your school?"

"...Yes," came his reply.

"Well, I decided not to. I'm not making any more for my school aside from what Dekoran needs for defence, and a few for myself and my friends. It looking like the two sides are going to fight, and I'm going to be the target. So I'm going to quit. After this, maybe I'll study more. If I just pass my classes and get my grades up, I won't even need all that extra credit. Maybe Liesel was right. I can apply for some scholarships, and get into college based on my gpa alone. I won't have to use it ever again!" I stopped, a bit out of breath from the rant I was unloading to the phone pinched by my shoulder, not to mention the amount of energy I was dumping into the healing potion batch in front of me.

"Liesel?" His tone was cold. "Is that one of your new friends?" My stomach immediately sank.

"Yeah?"

"The ones that you decided to hang out with the other day when we'd already made plans?" He sounded bitter and hurt. Not without good reason, I guessed, but something about his targeting bothered me. Why did he apologize over the other day if he's obviously still upset over? If anything, that fact alone was enough to piss me off as I grit my teeth in anger.

"Look, I said sorry already. And besides, plans? It wasn't a plan, just me making potions at your house again. You know, the same thing we've done the last two times," I reminded him, more than hinting at it. "The only thing we ever do?" My stirring began to speed up along with my breath as my voice raised to a shout.

"That was for my school! I-I thought you liked making potions for other people." Immediately, he began backing down, but I wasn't done.

"I did, except the last time I helped, news flash, it got stolen by a cult and used to kill people! What makes you think I want to do that again?"

"At least if you gave them to my school, it would go to a good cause instead of just hoarding it at your house." There it was again, that calm, but condescending tone. Who did he think he was? My teachers? My parents?

Why is he so adament about this? All for a few measley grades? " I can't make sure that it doesn't get stolen again. I don't want people getting hurt. What about that do you not understand?" The potion in front of me jumped from a deep green to a thick crimson in warning, but I ignored it. "I should just let fifty some odd people die so you can get an A? That's how selfish you're being right now."

"Crow! This is beyond my grades! This is you somehow thinking you can simply not pick a side on a major political issue and that having your own, third party is somehow safer. You're a Witch, and now there's finally a group fighting for your rights, our rights, and you have a problem with that?"

"Of course I have a problem with a bunch of radicals going out in the streets and starting arson just because some Humans are entitled. I literally could have died out there, and no one would have cared!"

"Social change has never happened without both violent and nonviolent protests. I'm not saying you have to be involved, but it hurts to see you seemingly not care when I lose my job to inequality. When I have to be scanned and my school and future profession is now being shunned because the Human government can't seem to wrap their minds around a basic concept, and you don't even seem to care. In fact, instead of supporting me, you're trying to ignore everything and hang out with your Human friend. You're not Human, and you never will be. Stop trying to cling to that idea like a child!"

I clenched the spoon as my blood boiled. "I. Am not. A child!"

A pop sounded as the potion exploded in front of me, thick and wet as the heat of pure hellfire splattered on my face, arms, legs... My throat burned as my lungs filled with smoke, any further arguing taken away from me as I coughed. An aggravated cry scraped against my throat, scratchy and painful.

"Crow! Are you all right?" His voice sounded panicked over the recevier.

I sighed. I tried to wipe some of the black smudged onto my face away, but I only managed to get more into my eyes, tears stinging even as I tried to blinked them away. He was misunderstanding my actions, but I didn't know how to get it through to him. I didn't want to just yell and hang up on him like I basically did with Dekoran, but he wasn't listening. 

"No. I'm not all right. I haven't been all right in... a while." I took a deep breath, trying to calm myself. I said I was going to be a better friend. That means starting now. "It's not that I don't want to spend time with you, but it seems like everytime we hang out, it's just having me do magik. The same magik that I've seen it used to hurt others. All the people out there right now, dead, stuck in the hospital, stuck in their homes, scared for how this is going to end... I feel responsible for all of it. It's not that I don't want to support your school, or you, but it feels like everytime I try to be a Witch, I fail, or somebody has to suffer. I don't want it anymore. I just want to make sure that I can keep you safe. All of you. I'm sorry it seemed like I care about them more. You're still my best friend, okay? I'm sorry."

"It's okay. I'm sorry too. I've... also been under a lot of pressure lately." Something about the way his voice slowed down made him seem so vulnerable. He had just lost his job, and probably was dealing with more hate than me, and I had had the audacity to lay into him.

"I know you have... I guess we should've expressed that more. Looks like we both kinda let things fester, huh?" I blinked at the red drops running down my arms, the last drops of the ruined potion forming stained rivers down my skin.

"Yeah, I guess we did."

"Well..." I grabbed a shirt off my chair to wipe myself clean. "You want to promise to be more open next time? The both of us?"

"Yeah." The word was flat, defeated, but I tried to keep my voice up, even if I didn't feel it.

"All right then. No more secrets, for either of us."

The call dropped into an awkward silence after that, until I apologised one last time, and hung up. I was pretty much done cleaning up the botched potion at this point, but that wasn't the only thing that had been draining. Tossing the phone aside, I started prepping a new batch before standing back to admire the new green liquid in the pot. Even with it finished, it felt sort of empty now, after the argument.

As long as I'd known Elliot, I'd had to protect him. From being bullied in Kindergarten, or the one time he had summoned a spirit to his house, I'd been there for him. I still got shudders thinking about the conjuring. The second that he started hearing things... when a vase shattered against the wall, I'd tried to get him to leave his house. But he'd stayed there, frozen in fear as the board he'd been using rose up, then was thrown by something I couldn't see in his direction.

Then we'd gone to the hospital. The spirit hadn't done anything after that, but it didn't need to. The scar on his forehead was warning enough. Even as he grew to surpass me in school, even as anyone who knew him praised his abilities... even when he ran up to me, waving a letter of acceptance over his head, Elliot's magik never felt right to me. I glanced at my hands, my mind trailing back to class.

It's all just energy conversion. Magik came from energy. I knew that now, and if spirits were pure, living energy... 

I picked up the bottles again. I'd said I was going to make potions to protect my friends, and that included Elliot, whether it was from his own magik, or the riots. I'd been unfair to him.

Well, that's what I'm making these for, I thought as I began to ladel the mixture into the sugar bottles before popping the caps back on. I need to fix this mess I started, and I'm going to make sure no one else gets hurt. Not Dustin, not Liesel, not Blyke, not Gwen, and not Elliot. No one.