#destiny witch

[buttercup-arts]

A WIP of my OC, Destiny Witch / Destiny Enoteca

[buttercup-arts]

Destiny Enoteca (she used to be named Buttercup)

Newest OC design...

[jhessail]

Trystan Wishmaker was used to witches. His older sister was a witch, and had taken him from his parents when she discovered she was a witch at the age of fortune when he was just four years old. So when he opened the door to a buxom older gentle lady with a huge hat, he wasn’t surprised when she fired an ice beam past his shoulder. Trystan bowed and stepped to the side to let the woman bowl on through.

“She’s not here.” Trystan spoke after the older woman fired off some more cold beams into the house, giving a huge sigh when he could hear the familiar cracking sound of ice shattering. The young man could only hope that whatever was breaking wasn’t his favorite pot. That tended to be a target for witches that came around for some reason. The gentle lady turned towards him brutishly, huffing her chest up like an obscene characteracture.

“Then where is she?” Trystan bowed his head respectfully, similar to a butler.

“I apologize, she rarely tells me where she goes to fulfill her duty.” He did not need to see her actions to know she likely rolled her eyes and rotate her wrists for a reason he still had no idea why witches did it, he had seen such a thing before endlessly in the past, all the ones who came to hunt his sister down were like robots in that way.

“Did she at least give you a time when she’d be back?”

“No miss.” Trystan kept his eyes to the ground, mentally noting he needed to vacuüm the floors, the stranger witch had tracked in dirt like a villain. His chin was lifted by her cold hands and she stared down at him with consideration. Trystan knew that many of his friends at school would be jealous of him if they saw the sight. The stranger was quite pretty, voluptuous body and long light silver hair and glowing green eyes.

“You look tasty.” The young man felt himself shudder for two different reasons. Disgust and fear.

“Not today sista,” the stranger screeched in pain as fire burst in her face. Trystan got pulled back by his sister and he flinched from the abrupt change in temperature as his sister’s arm soon became consumed with fire. Trystan stepped away, watching the two fight, knowing that his sister would win having gotten the surprise attack. The once beautiful lady now resembled a sludge monster and he could hear both the roars of her and the gleeful shrieks of his sister as he walked off.

Trystan Wishmaker was used to witches, but that didn’t mean he really liked dealing with the nonsense that came with them. Especially when it was nonsense that would never be explained to him. He wasn’t alone on that front however, the rest of the normal world was also incredibly confused on the nature of witches. The only thing the world had proven through time was that witches were necessary and if you tried to get rid of them, the world itself revolted. The young man found his small garden perched away from the house and he squatted to stare at his Amaryllis. Luckily, soon, he wouldn’t have to deal with this weirdness. Today was his age of fortune.

The age of fortune was a person’s eighteenth birthday, and also the day when a witch of fortune telling would come down from the Heavens and broadcast to the world and the person what their chosen path in life is. His sister was given the path of a witch. A witch of what, Trystan still didn’t know. He always assumed she was just a witch of fire, especially since the ones who hunted after her tended to be made of ice, but he knew better than to assume. “OH TRYST!” He heard his sister cackle out and Trystan pet the flower in front of him for a calm moment.

“You finished!?” He yelled back, not wanting to see the disaster that was their home. A small smile came at the thought that soon it wouldn’t be his home. Hopefully his chosen path was exactly what he dreamed of being, and he would be moving far away from his sister and all of this magic.

“Yup! Make me a cake please!” He rolled his eyes and moved to the house, seeing his sister finishing in wiping the stranger witch of existence with steam flickering in the air. His sister wasn’t the prettiest witch Trystan had seen, in fact she looked like a normal human. Witches tended to have something not quite human about them, hair color, shape, and/or dressed in fashions that didn’t mesh with the era.

Both he and his sister shared the same tan skin, and near matching hair color. Their eye color and gender were the only difference between the two, so it made sense why she looked like a normal human, because Trystan himself was. His sister often wore a tunic, but the way she wore it just made it seem like a simple brown dress. The young man passed his sister, making his way to the kitchen and pulling out the cake he had prepped earlier that day out of the oven.

His sister, Evangelina, practically hopped with eagerness to the counter top he placed the cake on. The gentle lady hummed as she stared down at the decorative desert. “Is it already that time?” She read the text he glamorously labeled the cake with. It was a cake he made for himself after all, for his birthday. Evangelina took one of the graham crackers that stuck out from the cake and cut a piece of the cake and a large chunk of frosting ungracefully, ruining the perfection of his birthday cake.

“Yup. So today’s the last day we’ll be together.” Evangelina shot him a glance then  focused on her cake mess and shoving into her mouth. Her face twisted with happiness at the glorious combination of chocolate and an unseen creamy caramel layer inside the cake. Trystan moved to the knife drawer, frowning to see that three of them were missing. His sister must be carrying them again, how on earth did she keep them with her? Her tunic had no pockets. Regardless, he grabbed a knife and cut himself a beautiful piece and flinched as his sister simply took another graham cracker to repeat her earlier motion.

“What makes you think this is the last day?” Evangelina finally asked as he grabbed a fork to eat his cake like a civilized being.

“Well...because I’m going to be doing my chosen path.” She gave him a thoughtful look, remarking,

“Oh yeah? What do you think that’s going to be?” Trystan could feel himself flush with embarrassment. He had never told anybody this before, and that was simply because of how...silly and simple of a path it sounded like. He cut into his piece and nibbled lightly at the end of his fork. Drat, he needed to add a bit more butter into the mixture next time.

“House husband.” He muttered quietly but his sister heard with no problem, accompanied with laughter at the absurdity of his thoughts. Okay, so really it was just his own private dream. He wanted to get married, have three or four children, and raise them at home with his partner coming home after a hard day of work. He wanted to experience the exhilarating feeling of his partner eating fresh food and hearing his children chatter endlessly over the dinner table.

He loved the feeling of giving people food after they’ve worked hard through the day, it was a fulfilling feeling and he felt like he was the icing on the top when he gave great food. He had experienced the feeling consistently with his sister, but he knew that if he could find the person he could love with all of his heart, it would be 100x more rewarding. Plus he wouldn’t have to worry about his pots and pans being ruined by magic users chasing after them, because witches just didn’t get married. It was an oddity, and the theories behind the reason were interesting to say the least.

“Yeah okay, you’ll be a house husband.” Evangelina finished giggling, stuffing more of his birthday cake down her gullet. Trystan gave her a gentle smile.

“Darn right I will.” He took one more bite then turned around and opened the fridge. “Since this is our last day together, I’ll cook you anything you want sis.” He didn’t jump when she hit the counter top with eagerness.

“Mexican Caca!” She demanded childishly. Trystan frowned, staring at the ingredients inside the fridge for a meal he’d be able to cook that night. He wasn’t expecting that request. He looked at his sister, seeing her bright brown eyes alight with delight.

“That takes over twelve hours to be perfect.” He remarked, his frown staying on his face.

“Then make it imperfect.” She leaned on the counter top, looking youthful. Even as human looking as she was, Trystan knew she looked younger than her age. Perhaps that was her witchy blessing. “Orrrrr you can just stay here until the food’s done.” She suggested, wagging her index finger with a spin. Trystan sighed, closing the fridge and gave his sister a deep smile. Well it was true he wouldn’t invite her willy nilly to his future home because when he did have children he wouldn’t want them to be in constant danger like he had gotten used to.

“I don’t think we have all the beans.” He commented, walking to the cupboard to confirm his thoughts.

“Oh! We can go shopping together Tryst.” Evangelina said, a hum at the end of her sentence. Despite the madness of the magical world placed upon him all the time with his sister being hunted by other witches, she had done her best to raise him. Trystan had no idea why she had taken him from his parents, he really had very little memories of them, but she had always made sure he had a roof over his head, food in the fridge, and was able to attend school to live a life as normal as one could surrounded by the mysteries of the witches.

It just hit him that this would be one the last times he would ever purposely see her again. It would be the last time he would go out shopping with her and it would be the last meal he would make for her. He felt suddenly overcome with the anguish at the thought and felt tears drip from his blue eyes without permission. Evangelina cooed and he grumbled when she embraced him and pat his head. They were the same height so it was a bit awkward and really he was too old to be treated like this. Strange, he had been so excited and happy at completely separating from the magic this morning, why was he crying so hard now?

“Am I interrupting?” Even his sister jumped when the voice erupted essentially from nowhere. The sibling duo looked to the voice to see a small girl in the center of their living room. The house had an open concept so it was easy to peer anywhere in the house to find someone. The little girl had green hair that hit the ground and flowers interlaced intricately in every miscellaneous strand. She wore a wedding dress, and she had red eyes. Trystan separated from his sister and wiped his eyes furiously, blushing at being seen crying.

“I imagine you’re the fortune-telling witch.” Evangelina remarked, stepping in front of the gaining composure brother. “How’s Selena doing?” Trystan recalled that, that was the name of the fortune-telling witch that had given Evangelina her chosen path. The child looking witch blinked at the question and gave Evangelina a simple smile.

“Dead.” Evangelina snapped her fingers.

“Shame.” The green-haired girl nodded and gave a curtsy. She faced the two and her red eyes became clouded and an energy started to build around her feet. Trystan inwardly cursed as some of the throw pillows they kept in the living room started to fly around,

“Trystan Ion Wishmaker,” he straightened out as though he was being commanded by a drill sergeant. The child rose her arm and held out her hand, “Take my hand and I shall tell you the path of the gods will.” The age of fortune was a very private thing so this was the first time Trystan had ever heard of anything about any gods or the sort.

Ignoring that detail to question later, he breathed deeply through his nose and walked to the witch of fortune. His legs felt like they were going to give out from under him with each step he took, his nerves jolting around every cell of his being as he knelt to the ground. His hands shook almost violently as he grabbed her own hand, the hope of being a house husband cemented into mind as energy burst from both him and the stranger witch. Something felt wrong. Trystan managed to open his eyes, that he had unconsciously closed when he grabbed the girl’s hand, and paled as blood started pouring from the little girl’s eyes.

He withdrew his hands and heard Evangelina gasp when the girl spoke, “The chosen path of the gods speaks, you are a witch.” What? The little girl closed her eyes, the blood from them floating up into the air and becoming bubbles. The little girl took a deep breath and opened her eyes once again, the red now being a brilliant green to match her hair.

“Are you serious?” Evangelina spoke, stomping to the two in the center of the living room. Trystan looked up to his sister and she looked like a mix of furious and confused. “Are you saying Tryst here is a witch?” What? “Fairly certain one of the main cardinal rules for witches is we’re all female.” Evangelina spout out, her hands settling on her hips. Trystan felt his body lean-to the side as a fire started to build around his sister’s body. The girl blinked and tilted her head to the siblings.

“I said he’s supposed to be a witch?” Evangelina nodded. The blood from the girl’s eye kept pouring and flouting into the air to become bubbles in a fascinating macabre as she rose her other hand and popped a few of the bubbles. She hummed lightly to herself while his sister tapped one of her feet impatiently, her gaze looking the most furious he had ever seen, and he had seen his sister fight a dragon witch before. The young girl stopped popping the blood bubbles when one visibly splattered her face with a burst of gore and she nodded. “So I did.”

“What does it mean?” Evangelina questioned, Trystan watched as her fingers burned part of her tunic. Augh, that was a terrible place to sew back up and make it look natural. No, that wasn’t what he should be worrying about right now! What the heck were they talking about, that he was supposed to be a witch? His sister had cemented the theory that witches could only be women with her earlier statement so what the heck were the ‘gods’ thinking? Sure Trystan may have been what society a little girly with his desire to be a stay at home husband, but he was a man, and that was something he was one hundred percent comfortable with.

“Hm?” The little witch made the noise after being stared at for a few minutes.

“I asked you what does it mean?” Evangelina was starting to get impatient, her foot tapped a little harder against the ground.

“Oh yes. I suppose you wouldn’t know.” The blood bubbles fell to the ground, becoming solid and to Trystan’s disgust, slimy. Blood slimes, oh God that was going to take forever to get out of the carpet! No, again, he shouldn’t be worrying about things like that! Trystan forced himself to pay attention as the little witch spoke, picking up one of the new slimes, “There’s a prophecy of the destruction of the world.” The siblings were also similar in reactions, as both of their mouths dropped together. “Trystan Ion Wishmaker,” why was she referring to him in his full name? “Will be the only one who can prevent that.”

“Whaaaat?” Both Evangelina and Trystan yelled. The witch presented a bloody hand towards Trystan and gave him a cute smile, well as cute as one could look with blood splattered over their face and hands.

“My name is Rita Pamela Miosk,” Trystan felt himself bristle slightly, as though his body knew that knowing the witch's full name was forbidden knowledge, “shall we go to your master?” Trystan was not shocked when his sister stepped in between him and Rita. Fire was visible on her shoulders, and her medium cut hair flowed in the air and burnt with the fire.

“You know I’m not the smartest lady in the world, but I’m knowledgeable enough to know that something about this is too fishy.” Trystan finally got up from the ground only because the fire that was on his sister’s shoulders started to flow down her back, the heat building up to a level that would be able to melt metal. “I’m not sure that this isn’t a trick.” Rita stared up at her  with confusion.

“Evangelina Torey Wishmaker, are you not a truth witch?” Trystan studied when the fire behind his sister’s back smoldered out and her tense shoulders grew lax.

“Eva?” He asked. Evangelina turned to look at him, her face set in a twisted way that looked like sadness and frustration. “She’s joking, right?” The young man asked, because there was just no way. Witches were women, and there was no way he would be involved with magic anymore. He was going to be a house husband.

“Afraid not Tryst. This is a real fortune-telling witch.” She rubbed the back of her hair, parts of it falling out from the earlier fire. “I thought she might have just been here to eat you or something but only fortune-telling witches know about truth witches.” There was just so much to unpack in just that one sentence. His sister gave him a soothing smile and pat his shoulders, “I guess we’ll have to bookmark the Mexican Caca for another day.”

“What? I don’t-” She hugged him. Her grasp was strong and full of love. She was serious. This was serious. He was a witch. He grasped her tunic and found himself shaking. “I don’t want to be a witch.” His body shook her arms. Her arms wrapped around him a little tighter and she placed his head in her shoulder so he could freely sob and scream despite the audience of the blood slime army and Rita.