Raven and the Barmy Cauldron!
This coming Monday sees the beginning of Autism Awareness Week, which is the time of year to celebrate all the many talented people that we know on the spectrum. One such young person is Evie Pearman who is a member of our Alpha Steering Group, part of our life skills project. She is a very gifted storyteller and has already submitted three short stories that we have published on the Sycamore website.
Well, we are delighted to introduce her fourth short story, so settle down and enjoy the tale of Raven and the Barmy Cauldron
It was lesson-time for Raven, the eleven-year-old witch-in-training. She and her stern familiar, Dusk, were cooped up in the classroom for the day, which was just as well, for it was raining. But this only made Raven feel even more dismal.
Dusk was a black cat. Familiars chose their forms and usually came as either cats (mostly black), avians (you’d think Raven would have a raven, wouldn’t you? Raven mentioned this once to Dusk, who was furious and scratched her), crows, toads, rabbits or hares, rodents and snakes.
Ms Skull, Raven’s horse-faced, cutting teacher, was giving Raven her third lecture of the day. Raven often received lectures, and always because she misbehaved. Raven Morganna Black, as was her full name, often didn’t mean to misbehave. Her misbehaviour... just happened. Raven blinked at her writing paper, trying not to cry, holding back tears determinedly. Raven might’ve been rambunctious and reckless, but she was resourceful and resolute and she was sure she was as clever as her older sisters- Fern, Holly, Ivy- really. Just... Ms Skull and her father couldn’t see it. Ms Skull stomped off to the little witches’ room.
“Well thank goblins she’s gone, eh, Dusk?” Raven said, sitting on her desk and swinging her legs. Dusk gave a small hiss.
“I wish she were here.” Dusk said haughtily. “You always get into such mischief.”
“Nonsense.” Raven said. “Well... maybe... it’s a good sort of mischief, though, don’t you think?”
“Hardly.” said the cat snidely. “And you should be getting on with your work.” Today they were bubbling, brewing and bewitching a potion in a black cauldron. Well, they were looking at the theory behind it. Raven sighed, she’d give anything to do a practical but after they all ended in disaster, Ms Skull had begged, (one of the few times she showed desperation), Raven’s father to cut it out of Raven’s curriculum. He’d agreed after noticing that Mrs Skull had one purple eyebrow, an uncharacteristic blue streak in her usually tidy hair and frog legs. She had had to bounce along the corridor.
Raven was bored. Bored, bored, bored. What could she do to free her of the chains of boredom? “I’m sure Ms Skull won’t mind if we had a little fun whilst she’s away. She’s always looking for a way to occupy us herself. And we can try a potion. If it goes right she’ll let us do practicals again.” Raven said, struck by how striking her idea was.
“I don’t think this is a bright idea.” Dusk said.
“Don’t be such a worry-wart!” Raven insisted. She was already lighting a fire under the cauldron. Manually, of course, she hadn’t learned the fire-lighting spell yet. She turned to her potions book and manually found a page (she hadn’t learned the page-turning spell yet either. She rarely learnt because she was too preoccupied in getting yelled at and apologising). “I know what will cheer Mrs Skull up- a Make-Merry potion!” it seemed quite simple too.
Dusk fetched the ingredients and so they began: a large vat of a mixture concocted out of water and wine, a handful of wild herbs, two ground moonstones, a strand of shimmery unicorn tail, a pipette of dragon blood, (both Dusk and Raven choked at) and a beaker of lake monster urine- which made Dusk run off to the window to get some fresh air. And fresh air did they need- Raven’s potion was bubbling and smoking rapidly. The smoke was thick and grey and was the type of smoke that got right into your mouth, down your throat and into your chest. It causes one to splutter, or rather two- as both Raven’s and Dusk did.
“You’ve set the flames too high.” yowled Dusk.
“Huh. I’m sure it’ll be fine after I say the incantation.” claimed Raven, biting her lip anxiously. She didn’t even convince herself.
“Oh, please don’t. I doubt that very much.” groaned Dusk. “Please, Raven. You’ve tried your best and you’ve gotten this far without blowing up, I’m sure you’re father would be so very proud.”
“Exactly!” Raven said, cheerily at this thought. “Imagine what Father will say! He’ll be so proud and we have made it this far...” and so she began the witchy chant:
“Potion bubble,
Potion brew,
Be ready for your cue,
Potion roar,
Potion fizz,
I have great plans for you!” she began.
“Sense my magic,
Sense my nerve,
Don’t be tragic,
It is I you serve,
Do my bidding,
Give me what I need,
Now complete this deed,
And...” she didn’t get to finish, or maybe her voice was simply drowned out by the large BANG! The cauldron had levitated and then exploded. Gooey, multicoloured potion spewed outwards, all over the floor and walls and blackboard. “Oh dear.” Raven said.
“That’s the understatement of the century.” hissed Dusk. “What goes through that head of yours, Raven Black?”
“Well, we’ll just have to clean it up, won’t we?” said Raven, blinking the tears out of her eyes. “It can’t be that hard.”
“And how do you propose we do that?” was Dusk’s rebuttal. “You can’t do any magic and we won’t get this manually cleaned up before Mrs Skull returns!” Raven burst into tears. Why was she so useless at magic? Why was she so accident-prone. Dusk was right! Mrs Skull was right! She’d never impress her father.
Dusk realised he had gone too far. He licked away Raven’s tears.
“Hush, now. If you created this mess, you can clean it up.” he said. “I’ll get the ingredients away.” and he slunk off, fulfilling his offer. Raven brushed at her face. Dusk was right, she had both the ability and the responsibility to clean up this mess. She looked at the potion that had exploded onto the wall. She concentrated, closing her eyes hard and muttering under her breath. There was a swiping sound and she opened her eyes in a panic. But there was nothing to worry about- the splattered potion had gone.
She then got to work on her dirtied dress. That worked too! Raven did have magic. Maybe she just had to do it with full belief in herself...
It was hard to mend the shattered cauldron, however. There were just to many pieces. So Raven created a new cauldron instead. It looked very fetching and shiny, although Dusk rolled his eyes as he brushed the old cauldron away.
“I must say...” Mrs Skull said as she entered the room. “You haven’t made a... you’ve... you’ve behaved...”
“Beautifully, Yep.” Raven finished for her. Dusk nodded quickly. Mrs Skull’s familiar- Ulysses, a black snake, slithered around the room. Raven felt furious. Not only were they expecting her to trip up, they seemed disappointed she hadn’t.
But they couldn’t find anything wrong. Even the words on the blackboard were the same, with no rude drawings. Raven sighed in relief. And then...
“Raven, why has the cauldron, the black cauldron, turned silver?”
Oops.
If you'd like to read more of Evie's short stories, click here;
http://www.sycamoretrust.org.uk/latest/article/The-case-of-the-ghostly-child
http://www.sycamoretrust.org.uk/latest/article/The-case-of-the-Haunted-Lake
http://www.sycamoretrust.org.uk/latest/article/Raven-and-the-Yule-Festival
