The Witch of the Castle of Glass

Milly lay awake in her cubicle, curled up on the floor beneath her desk. Her torn hoodie lay drying over the cubicle wall, washed as best she could in the tenth-floor women’s washroom sink. Water and electricity still worked in the Castle of Glass, a small miracle that she chose not to question.

Xavier snored beside her, curled up under his own desk in their shared cubicle. She had spent the evening healing him and any others she was able to help, before collapsing with exhaustion after her inner magic was depleted. Xavier had been there when she woke up at midnight, scrolling through his player screen and mumbling to himself. She had frantically tried to cover herself, finding nothing and feeling exposed in her undergarments, but Xavier had simply shrugged, turned off his screens, and fell asleep moments later.

Milly felt a bit put out. “He could have at least pretended to like what he saw,” she mumbled. Not that she blamed him. She knew she wasn’t much to look at, being overweight and greasy, and still finding droplets of ogre and goblin blood on her skin that she missed while washing.

Milly felt odd thinking about such mundane concerns after everything that had happened. Fifteen people had died today, their bodies unceremoniously laid in a row against the plains-side tower. Milly did not stay long, feeling out of place. Hundreds had gathered in the lobby early in the evening to mourn them, until an argument had started about whether to bury or cremate the bodies. This had led to an eruption of anger and a shoving match that injured another half dozen people. She did not care to heal those that brought their injuries on themselves, so she had headed back up to the tenth floor to wash while everyone was downstairs.

The shoving match was not the strangest coping mechanism that she had seen. Everywhere she looked there were people shouting or crying. Donald, from accounting, paced endlessly back and forth by the water cooler mumbling to himself. Glenda, one of the tier two troubleshooters, had been dialing 911 repeatedly for the past six hours. Mr. Fredrickson’s office door was closed, but Milly could hear grunts and moans from his office as he and his secretary, Mrs. Anand, abandoned all pretext around the affair that everyone knew they were having.

“At least someone is doing something more than yelling or crying,” Milly thought as she passed his door on the way to the washroom, “You go for it, Mr. Fredrickson, you cranky bastard.”

Now, as the clock ticked past one in the morning, Milly stared at the underside of her desk, wide awake. Tower One seemed to be calm, for now. Milly could still hear choked sobs emanating from cubicles and the occasional scream as someone woke from a nightmare. But one by one, the exhaustion of the day claimed the consciousness of each of them.

Except for Milly. Her mind raced with unfocused thoughts of little true value.

Who was going to clean the washroom? It was going to get gross quickly. Milly had created her fair share of that mess while washing goblin blood out of her hoodie in the sink, and she did not relish the thought of what it would look like after a few days.

Were their bosses still in charge? She did not think Mr. Fredrickson would be looking to take command. He was busy at the moment. But what about the CEO Mr. Stone? She had seen Acicentre’s middle managers in the lobby that evening, trying to assert their dominance over their employees. For the most part, they were successful, with many of her coworkers looking for stability in the chaos. None of the middle managers had approached Milly though. Except for Mr. Fredrickson, who called her Milby, none of the managers knew who she was. That anonymity had been a burden yesterday. Today, it was a gift.

Milly rolled over and stretching her cramped leg out the cubicle entrance, feeling relieved at the satisfying pop. It was so tight in these cubicles. There were so many empty floors and towers in the Castle of Glass, and the managers on the floors above them had massive offices. How long would it be before her tenth-floor coworkers realized that difference, and what would happen when they did?

Had Calista really blushed at her? Milly dismissed the notion as quickly as it came. The ramifications of exploring that line of thought were far greater than she could face right now. Better to battle against a whole tribe of goblins.

What would they eat?

That last question was not meaningless. Milly’s stomach growled, but she ignored it. It was not the first time she had gone hungry, but she was willing to bet that most people in the Castle of Glass had skipped few meals in their lives. And hungry people become angry people. And angry people did foolish things.

The fridges would be empty within a day. Most people brought lunches from home, but it was hardly enough to sustain someone for long. Some kept snacks in the drawers of their cubicles, but how far would chocolate covered raisins and pretzels go? And when surrounded by hungry people, it could be dangerous to be the person with the food. Even if it was just stale pretzels.

The tower had no cafeteria, just three empty storefronts that had been vacant for as long as anyone could remember. The only thing close was the tiny coffee shop in the corner of the Tower One lobby.

Milly grew frustrated with her wandering thoughts and inability to sleep and sat upright, slamming her head on the underside of her desk.

“Ow. Damn it,” she whispered, frustrated with herself and rubbing her forehead. She used a tiny bit of her magic, filled again after her rest, to relieve herself of the headache it had caused. Then she quietly ducked out of her cubicle, donning her still damp hoodie as she left. She was grateful that her life had given her a robust tolerance for minor inconveniences, like damp and dirty clothing and hunger. She had a feeling tolerance would be a valuable skill to have in the days ahead.

She arrived at the lobby several minutes later, the dim blue light of the floating screens casting eerie shadows against the glass and the blackness beyond. Milly paced along the outer walls, absentmindedly looking out at the white sand beach and crystal blue ocean to the east and picking up the now-depleted weapons racks that had fallen over during the evening’s chaos.

As she reached the entrance to the southern rainforest, she stared out at the ogre’s corpse, dimly lit in the moonlight. “They would need to move it soon,” Milly thought, “before it starts to smell.”

Then she recalled the congratulatory message after the battle and the item she received. She opened her inventory, withdrawing the Wedding Ring of Phillip the Ogre. It was plain, fashioned from crude iron, the only adornment a tiny skull with ruby eyes embedded within the band.

“Now, how did Xavier do this?” she muttered to herself, focusing on the ring and willing its description to appear.

The little blue screen appeared above the ring.

Wedding Ring of Phillip the Ogre

Even ogres need to find love, right?

Benefit: Increases the wearer’s strength by 4

Warning: You will anger Phillip’s wife, Phillipa, by wearing this ring. Her stats against you will be doubled if you encounter her.

Do you wish to resize the ring?

“Increase my strength by four? By putting on a ring? That would almost double my strength,” Milly gasped. She hesitated briefly as she reread the warning, but the benefit was too great to ignore.

“Maybe I won’t come across her if I say out of the rainforest?” she mused, then spoke aloud, “Yes, please resize the ring.”

Milly watched in amazement as the ring in her palm twisted and groaned, shrinking down until it was half the size it once was. She picked it up tentatively between two fingers, closed her eyes, and slipped it onto her right index finger.

The moment it passed her knuckle, Milly felt the power flow into her. It was a different feeling than increasing her strength or her agility directly. In that case, she could feel herself growing stronger from the inside as her muscles and tendons were changing inside her. With the ring, it felt as though someone else were helping her. She could feel the power flowing from the ring into her and knew if she ever removed it that helping hand would be gone.

“This is incredible,” Milly whispered, “I might be as strong as Xavier now.”

But then an unwelcome thought entered her mind. Would Xavier want the ring? Milly unconsciously covered the ring with her unadorned hand. What if someone else wanted it? She suddenly understood why Xavier had advised to keep things to herself.

The shattering of a glass interrupted Milly’s thoughts. She turned towards the sound and noticed a light on in the tiny coffee shop nestled in the northwest corner of the complex, its windows facing mountain and ocean terrains. Milly walked tentatively over to the shop’s sliding door, her curiosity getting the better of her.

A young woman in her late twenties with short brown hair cut into a bob was sweeping broken glass off the floor, around two upended round tables. She wore a simple white apron over a barista uniform, thin spectacles giving her face a kind and innocent expression. She hummed softly to herself, oblivious to Milly’s presence, swaying her narrow hips to a tune only she could hear.

Milly started to leave to resume her pacing, but then ducked back inside a heartbeat later on a whim. “Umm…hello?” she said uncertainly, feeling awkward at the interruption. Why was she saying hello to a stranger in the middle of the night?

The woman gave a start, dropping her broom to the floor. She saw Milly standing there in the torn hoodie, then started giggling. “Oh, you startled me. Sorry about that. I’m afraid I don’t have any coffee ready. We are closed right now.” The woman’s voice had a genuine cheerfulness to it, years of customer service hidden behind the sweet smile.

The woman thought for a moment, then added, “If you want to come in, I can put on some tea. I cannot sleep anyways, and after everything that has happened today, company would be welcome.”

Milly walked in, stepping lightly over the shards of broken glass scattered across the floor. Her increased agility, which she had increased again after the battle with Phillip the Ogre along with her strength and magic, made the feat far easier than it would have been yesterday.

“What happened here?” Milly asked, curiously.

“Oh, the fight from the gathering in the lobby this evening spilled into my coffee shop. A couple tables fell over in the scuffle before people remembered that we were all in this together and needed to be civil. I think it helped snap people back to reality, honestly. The tipped over tables, I mean, not the fight. A couple broken glasses and plates are a small price to pay for a bit of peace I suppose.”

Milly was captivated by the woman’s positivity and optimism, even after everything that had happened. She felt a touch of envy, wishing she could feel the same way, if only for a moment.

Milly reached down and grabbed the broom off the floor. “I would love some tea,” she lied, having never had the luxury of affording tea before, “You put it on, and I’ll sweep. I’m Milly, by the way.” Milly started sweeping the broken glass into a pile. It felt good to be useful.

“I’m Rain,” the woman replied, ducking behind the counter, and filling a small kettle with water. “This is my coffee shop, Rain On My Parade. I named it that because people kept telling me I was crazy to open a coffee shop so young. But I did it anyway. It took me every penny I had and more, but I am proud of it.”

Rain watched the kettle absentmindedly, flipping through a stack of overdue bills piled on the counter beside it. Milly thought she saw a touch of sadness in her eyes, but Rain’s smile was back the next moment. “I opened last month. Business has been slow, but I kept myself busy experimenting with different types of teas. And trying to figure out what people in this Tower like.”

Milly swept the glass into a dustpan and ducked behind the counter to dump it in the trash. She felt like she was peaking behind the curtain of Rain’s dream. “Where should I…” she started, pointing at the dustpan.

“Oh, in here,” Rain said, dragging out the trashcan from beneath the counter. Milly walked over and upended the pan, letting the shards fall slowly into the bin and listened to the tinkle of each one as it struck the bottom.

“What’s next to clean up?” Milly asked, ready for more.

“These,” Rain said with a tone of rebellion, picking up the stack of bills and hurling them into the trashcan with a laugh. “Silver linings, right? No more banks means no more bills. Just coffee and customers.” She looked over Milly’s shoulder and into her storeroom. “Well, a little bit of coffee.”

“And no more competition,” Milly added, laughing at Rain’s impromptu liberty from crushing debt. “You’re the only game in town now.”

“A monopoly!” Rain giggled, “I’m the Starbucks of wherever the heck we are.”

They laughed together, the lame joke seeming to cut through the tension and tragedy of the day. As if they had given themselves permission to find the joy hidden beneath the sorrow. Milly decided at that moment that she liked Rain. She was filled with cheer and hope, and Milly so often found herself lacking either.

The kettle whistled and Rain grabbed two cups. “Milly, can you tip those tables and chairs upright while I get our tea?” Milly nodded, grabbed the nearest upended table, and accidentally lifted it right off the ground with her increased strength. Milly jerked her head towards Rain in a panic, released a sigh of relief when she saw Rain was looking the other way, and very intentionally set the table down.

“Do you take milk or honey?” Rain asked, pouring the water into cups.

“Ummm…” Milly stalled, having no idea what she should say. “Honestly Rain, I have no idea. I have never had tea before,” she admitted.

Rain gave an exaggerated gasp of excitement, clapping her hands together in joy. “A tea virgin? Don’t worry, you are in safe hands. We’ll have my own, highly experimental, blend for your first time.”

She brought over the tea and Milly lifted it up to her nose to smell. It gave off scents of berries and mint, with just a hint of something else. She looked to Rain for an answer.

Rain lifted a finger to her nose, “Nope, not telling. It is a Rain Desjarlais secret.

Milly tentatively sipped her tea and its warmth filled her up inside. A comfort at just the right time.

“Well?” Rain asked, excitedly.

“It’s so good,” Milly said with a purr of genuine appreciation. Against the backdrop of today’s anarchy, it was an anchor to a normal life. A life she never had back home either.

“Home,” thought Milly, “I haven’t had a true home in…well, ever, I guess.” She realized that, despite the horrific events of the day, she had never once longed to return to that life. That did not mean she liked it here. Only that there was not enough value in her life to make her want to go back. The dark thought brought a frown to her face, and she set down her cup.

“Changed your mind?” Rain asked, looking at Milly’s tea, “Not as good on the second sip?”

“No, it is wonderful. It’s not the tea. Just…a dark thought.” Milly did not know what else to say, and left it at that.

Rain gave an understanding smile, then grew excited. “Ooh, I should call this blend Introspection Tea, or the Dark Thoughts blend. Teas are always named after peaceful things, like Morning Glory or Lemon Sunrise. Those names don’t really fit here. We need a dark name for dark times. It will really make the tea stand out.”

Milly gave Rain a puzzled look, then chuckled at Rain’s excitement, her dark thoughts dissipated. “How about Dark Introspection? The tea for the goth soul.”

Rain joined in Milly’s laughter, rushing over to the counter to write it down. “Done! A new tea for a new world. The first of many to come.”

“There are four terrains around us. There must be ingredients you could use. Perhaps even some undiscovered ones.” Milly suggested.

“Yes!” exclaimed Rain, emboldened. Her eyes stared out the window at the sandy beach, and she raised her cup. “To many more blends in the days ahead.”

“And to the finest coffee spot I’ve ever been to,” added Milly, smiling.

“Wait, how many have you been to? You’ve never had tea before.”

Milly simply smiled, taking another sip, and let her dark thoughts slip away one by one.

Mildred Persephone Brown

Player

Level: 5

Specialty: Survival

Strength: 10 (+4 from Wedding Ring of Phillip the Ogre)

Agility: 6

Toughness: 8

Magic: 8

Talents: Healer's Touch