The Harvest Moon had not come until late that September. Although tonight it hung in the night sky as just a waxing crescent, it cast its red glow over all the land of Tywyll Noeth. For many weeks to come there would be reports claiming that the moon’s crimson light seemed to fall with unusual brightness over the city of Swefnwicc.

 

Near the outskirts of Swefnwicc sat a constellation of dark, gothic buildings known collectively as Weirhaven College for Witches. The spires of its tall buildings stood in black contrast to the blood-red light emanating across the sky.

 

It was near midnight now, and most of the students at Weirhaven had retired to their dormitories. Beynon Library was the sole building that still cast candlelight through its windows out onto the dark campus. It was out of this library that Bedelia Ecclestone emerged, hauling a leather bag full of books. The first-year student was wearing navy blue robes that looked black in the darkness. Under her matching hat sprang locks of light brown hair. She yawned deeply as she set out across campus.

 

Why did I stay in Beynon so late? Bedelia asked herself. She was always creeped out walking across campus at night. The weird red sky doesn't help. As she made her way towards her dormitory, she walked underneath ancient statues of important witches that had either graduated from or taught at Weirhaven. Even thought it was midnight, the moonlight cast shadows of the statues that danced across the path in strange, contorting shapes. She started walking faster.

 

There were two paths from the library to Bedelia’s dormitory, the shorter of which led through the Cloister, a large, colonnaded walkway that surrounded the main quadrangle of Weirhaven College. Beautiful during the day, it could be eerie when the central campus was deserted at night.

 

She quickened her pace as she entered the Cloister. Bedelia thought back to when she first visited Weirhaven as an aspiring student. She had only been in her 17th revolution then, and she remembered being awed by the vast walkway lined with ornate columns. Now, two revolutions later, in the red night, she could only think about how easy it would be someone to hide behind the pillars.

 

Just as the thought crossed her mind, she thought she saw movement around one of the columns up ahead. She slowed down.

 

“Hello?” She had tried to speak loudly, but only managed a whisper. “Is anyone there?”

 

Bedelia heard some leaves rustle and felt wind blow through the columns, but there was no response. She inched forward, reaching into her navy-blue robes.

 

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a flicker in the shadows. She raised her wand and said, “Phainon!”

 

The tip of her wand lit up, illuminating the space immediately in front of her. The sudden burst of light temporarily blinded her, forcing her to squint. She couldn't make out any distinct shapes apart from the columns.

 

Then there was quick rustling sound. Almost so quick that Bedelia didn't hear it. She froze. It sounded more like the rustling of robes than leaves.

 

"Hello?" she tried again. "Betrys, if this is some sort of prank, it isn't funny!"

 

There was no answer. Her eyes slowly adjusted to the light. She took a few steps forward. Did I just imagine it?

 

Then she saw it again. At first, she thought she had just hallucinated the movement.

 

Then she saw him step out of the shadows.

 

Even with her wand shining on him, she could barely see the wizard. His black hat and robes helped him blend into the darkness. He raised his wand.

 

Bedelia tried to speak, tried to cast a spell, but no words came to her lips.

 

The wizard raised his wand, pointing it directly at her face. She started to scream.

 

“Somneron.”

 

In the microseconds that passed, Bedelia tried to process the spell in her mind—searching her cerebral catalogue for the incantation in order to figure out her possible defenses—before her green eyes slammed shut and consciousness left her.

 

The wizard watched the young witch collapse to the ground like a ragdoll. He smiled. She couldn't even get a spell off. First-year students are too easy. His wand was still raised as he said, “Eigeron.”

 

The witch’s unconscious body began to float parallel with the ground.

 

“Come, my darling. We don’t have much time.” He turned and began walking through the Cloister, Bedelia’s sleeping body floating slowly after him.

 

He did not expect to see any more students walking around that night. Although, if he did, he would make easy work of them. There were few witches on campus that could have put up a better effort than poor Bedelia. Still, once he was out of the Cloister, he kept to the edge of campus, walking alongside its ancient walls.

 

With his victim in tow, the wizard finally reached the Southern Gate. He made a slight right onto a dirt path that led to the Sonswyg Forest. Here, beyond Weirhaven's walls, the wild grass grew tall. Every couple of minutes the wizard would glance up at the red crescent moon. Patience.

 

After walking on the path for several minutes, the first tall, dark trees began to approach. The longer he walked, the denser the trees grew. After about ten more minutes he was in the heart of the old forest. He suddenly turned left along an almost imperceptible path. After a few more minutes, he stepped into a small clearing. The Harvest Moon cast an eerie red glow over the space, illuminating the tall wizard and his sleeping victim floating behind.

 

In the center of the clearing stood a large, gnarled tree. It was distinct from the firs, cedars, and hemlocks that made up the majority of the Sonswyg. Its huge, twisted branches stretched upwards towards the sky. The tree's rough black bark gave way to bright yellow leaves that fluttered in the midnight wind.

 

The wizard strode quickly through the clearing. When he reached the tree, he touched his wand to the black bark and said, “Anoixon.”

 

Suddenly, the gnarled roots of the tree that protruded from the ground began to shift. The roots slowly untangled, revealing a small hole at the bottom of the trunk. It was just large enough for him to duck into. He stooped down and descended into the tree, Bedelia floating in after him. The wizard carefully descended the dirt stairs in the darkness. Eventually, the glow of candles began to illuminate his path.

 

 The narrow stairway opened up into a dungeon built of clay and stone. Scattered about the lair were large tomes and vials of differing sizes. The wizard walked through the lair towards a door on the opposite side. He opened the door and entered into another tunnel. This one was short, and he was quickly in another room of equal size to the one he had just passed through, although this room was empty, void of all the furniture and items of the previous room. Instead of paintings or archaic engravings, this room only had as its only decoration the ancient tree roots protruding out from the dirt walls.

 

The wizard now turned back towards Bedelia, whose horizontal sleeping form slowly emerged from tunnel. I need more light, he thought as her limp body approached. "Phainon." The wizard's wand illuminated the dark room. He stood over Bedelia, shining his wand's bright light onto her face, confirming that the brunette witch still slept peacefully. He gently pulled one of her eyelids open, revealing a green eye that stared without seeing. Her pupil was dilated, indicating she was still in a deep sleep. As he inspected her body, his face took on a look somewhere between hunger and desire.

 

“Time to get you ready, my darling.” He waved his wand, causing her to levitate a little bit higher. “Out of these clothes, then.”

 

Setting his illuminated wand on the dirt floor, he began to undress the unconscious witch, pulling her hat off and setting it on the ground. Her shoulder-length brown hair fell free as he walked along the length of her body until her reached her feet. He unlaced her brown leather shoes before slowing pulling them off of her dainty feet. He held both of her small feet in his hands, giving them a short rub before moving back up her legs.

 

He slowly went to work on her navy-blue robes, sliding her limp arms out of the large sleeves. He pulled her robes off of her and set them on the ground next to her hat. He was surprised to find a white corset underneath. "Must be Swefnwicc fashion these days,” he mumbled to himself as he went to work undoing the lace of the corset. After a few minutes he had her out of it, setting the corset next to her robes and hat, leaving Bedelia in just her linen chemise. The chemise was the classic female undergarment in Tywyll Noeth, and it resembled a small, thin dress that fell to a woman’s mid-thigh. He reached for the hem, delicately brushing his fingers along Bedelia's pale white legs.

 

His fingers on her legs caused her to stir. Still floating, she slowly lifted her right hand up to her face and started to rub her brow. Then, lowering her hand, she lifted her head up and started looking around.

 

“Where... am I?” she asked, then, looking down at her body, “Where... my robes?”

 

“Sorry, my darling,” the wizard bent down to retrieve his wand before standing up again. She looked up at him, confused, then her green eyes opened wide. "You!"

 

“Back to sleep. Somneron.”

 

Bedelia’s head fell back with a slight whimper, eyelids shut, her arms swinging limply by her sides. He stared down at her cute mouth, which had fallen open in her sudden slumber. She had been about to say something before he whisked her back to dreamland.

 

“Now, where was I?” the wizard asked, placing his wand back on the ground. Then, smiling, he whispered, “Ah, yes.”

 

He brushed his hands along Bedelia's body, from her chest down to her thighs. He gently grabbed the hem of her linen chemise and slowly pulled it up over her torso, gradually revealing her upper thighs. As he continued to pull the chemise up, he exposed the light brown hair that grew at the secret spot between her thighs. Pulling it further, her pale stomach came into view. The wizard's hands shook gently as he continued to slowly pull on the helpless witch's undergarment.

 

He paused for a brief moment, his hands just below her chest. There can be no modesty here. Not now. His hands still trembling, he quickly pulled the chemise up over Bedelia's chest. Her pale white breasts exposed, her light brown nipples hardened in the cool, damp air. The wizard breathed in heavily. Must keep moving. He finally pulled the linen chemise up and over her head and arms. Bedelia now limply floated naked in the middle of the cave room, her brown hair and arms hanging limply from her body. The wizard gently caressed her, rubbing his hands slowly across her small pale breasts. She had the prettiest brown nipples. Suddenly, he stopped and shook his head. No time.

 

Picking his wand up again, he floated Bedelia over to the opposite side of the cave room. All along the edge of the room, ancient roots emerged from the clay and snaked along the walls. The man positioned Bedelia against the wall and released her from the levitation spell. Her body crumpled into a little pale ball on the floor. He then touched his wand to the dirt wall and began reciting the incantation that he had practiced for the past month. Once finished, the wizard took a step back and held his breath. Please, she’s perfect. Perfect for tonight.

 

He waited for what felt like an unbearable amount of time. Then, slowly, the roots closest to Bedelia sprung to life. They began to uncurl, stretching, twisting out towards Bedelia’s unconscious body. The wizard was breathing heavily now. He couldn't blink.

 

First the roots wrapped around her hands, pulling her up slowly so that she eventually hung from the ceiling, arms above her head. Then, from the ceiling emerged smaller, new roots, circling sleepily above Bedelia. Her head was nodded forward, her brown hair covering her face. Gradually the smaller roots began to wrap around her head.

 

The wizard grinned. This had been easier than he thought.

 

She would be a great start.

 

 

***

 

 

 

It was a beautiful fall morning and the campus was full of witches traversing the green grounds. The trees around Swefnwicc were beginning to change color, and Weirhaven was flush with flashes of orange and red. The air was cool and crisp.

 

Just now, a trio of first-year students were walking through the sun-lit Cloister. Guinevere Grey led the way, and as she walked her long curly brown hair bounced up and down underneath her gray witch’s hat. Her matching grey robes flapped in the brisk wind. Guinevere turned to look back towards her two friends, her light brown eyes flashing in the autumn sun. “I’ve got a good feeling about class today. I’m finally going to get it right.”

 

“Yeah? You been practicing?” asked Mair Ab Owain. She had short red hair and bright green eyes framed by a spattering of freckles. She wore green robes and a matching hat.

 

“I know she’s been practicing sleeping, but I don’t know how much she’s been practicing the spell itself,” said Alys Merwin. Her long blonde plaits fell from underneath her navy-blue hat. Alys had piercing blue eyes and stood nearly a head taller than Guinevere, and perhaps two heads taller than Mair. "I'll be rooting for you though, Gwen."

 

Guinevere shook her head. “You're both awful. No support at all.”

 

“We’ll see how what happens in class today,” said Alys.

 

“I’ve got a feeling you’ll sleep right through it,” Mair laughed.

 

“Shut up,” Guinevere mumbled as the trio approached the giant wooden doors of the School of Psychic Arts. The doors stood open this morning, allowing the gothic building to breathe in the fresh fall air. Once inside, the witches walked up the steps to the second floor of the building. Stained glass windows along the stairwell illuminated their ascent. They had to shift to the right side of the stairs as a large group of students began walking down on the left.

 

"They look rough," said Mair, staring at the descending witches that passed. "Looks like it'll be a fun class."

 

Once they were on the second floor, they walked down the corridor until they reached Naegle Lecture Hall. There were about thirty other students in the room already. Guinevere, Mair and Alys rushed to find three seats next to each other. Of course, the seats at the top of the lecture hall, near where the students entered, were already full. Like many classic lecture halls, Naegle featured a pitched floor such that the seats in the front of the room were lower than the seats in the back. The three witches were forced to descend the stone steps that bisected the tiered seating.

 

Finally finding three seats—much nearer to the front of the lecture hall than they would have liked—the trio removed their hats and set their bags down. The seats in Naegle, one of the oldest lecture halls on campus, were comprised of long, curved benches that spanned the entire half-length of each tier, only interrupted by the stairs in the middle. Guinevere guessed that the benches must be centuries old, their only redeeming feature; they were quite uncomfortable. Some students even brought small pillows to sit on.

 

“We’ll be starting in two minutes,” said Professor Dryncaster, a mousy witch who was currently standing at the lectern. She was short and had long grey hair that nearly touched the ground.

 

After about ten more students had entered the lecture hall, found their seats, and took out quill and ink, the long-haired witch stepped away from her lectern and towards the students. She wore robes of deep purple, over which rested a gold chain made of thick golden links. All the professors at Weirhaven wore chains, with different metals indicating seniority—gold being the highest.

 

“Welcome to Oneirokinesis, my lovelies. Good class we’ve got planned today. Yes. And what a beautiful day! Did anyone see the Harvest Moon last night? Waxing crescent. Beautiful.”

 

After waiting a moment for someone to respond (no one did), Professor Dryncaster went on: “The School of Psychic Arts places a particular emphasis on study of Oneirokinesis. Any witch that wishes to graduate from Weirhaven with the title ‘Psionic’ must excel in the magic of sleep and dreams. Today we will be practicing the foundational spell, somneron. Nothing fancy. No. But important for first-years to master. Yes.

 

“Now, as I’ve mentioned during our past couple of lectures, Oneirokinesis is about much more than just putting someone to sleep. Any Psionic worth their sourtartines will be able to resist spells such as somneron, either consciously or unconsciously through Agrypnos. That is, unless that witch has fallen under Kleiseron Oneirous. No. That would require an especially skilled Psionic. Yes. But I digress, this is advanced material…”

 

Professor Dryncaster returned to her lectern and began rifling through her parchment. “I see… yes, today we will be practicing the sleep spell in pairs. You will come to the front of the lecture hall two at a time and sit in these lovely chairs facing each other,” she gestured towards two leather armchairs in front of the podium. “You will each try to put the other student to sleep. Simple. Yes. Any volunteers to go first?”

 

The professor paused. She peered over her crescent-shaped spectacles, scanning the room. After a few awkward moments, she began rifling through her parchment once more.

 

“No? You first-years are so damn shy. Very well then. I will pick names at random.”

 

She stopped shuffling her papers. “Yes, okay, here we are. Guinevere Grey? Ms. Grey, please step down here.”

 

Guinevere felt her stomach drop. She sat frozen in her seat for a few moments before Mair elbowed her in the side. “Gwen! Get up!”

 

Slowly Guinevere stood up and walked down the stairs toward the lectern. “Good morning, Ms. Grey,” said the professor. “Morning,” replied Guinevere, trying to smile. The professor did not smile back. “And who shall I pair with Ms. Grey, hmm?”

 

Before the professor could pick another name from her parchment, a voice rang out: “I volunteer, Professor!”

 

Guinevere tensed up. She knew that voice. She turned back towards the seats.

 

A student with green braids was standing up. She wore black robes and she was grinning at Guinevere.

 

“A volunteer! Very good. Yes. Remind me your name, lovely?”

 

“Betrys Lush,” said the student as she began descending the stairs. The two students she left behind, one with long black hair and the other with a blonde pixie cut, both wearing black robes too, began to giggle to themselves.

 

“This bitch,” Guinevere muttered under her breath.

 

As she walked past Guinevere, Betrys leaned in and whispered, “Enjoy your nap, Grey.”

 

“Yes. Okay, Ms. Grey, Ms. Lush, please take your seats.”

 

Guinevere and Betrys sat in the leather chairs, facing each other. They were about fifteen feet apart.

 

Professor Dryncaster walked around the podium until she stood between the girls. She turned to face the class. “Now, I’m sure you all have been studying this spell over the past week. Yes. And I’m sure that I’m about to be amazed by your brilliance,” she said, pacing back and forth. “But let’s pretend that there’s one of you out there who hasn't studied. Well, let me remind this irresponsible student that we begin by raising our wand so that it's level with the target’s face. We then utter the incantation ‘somneron’ while performing the correct wand movement. This is important, my lovelies. Yes. If you fail to match the syllables of the incantation with the appropriate wand movement, the spell will fail.

 

“Of course, we all remember that the wand movement for this spell follows an inverted ‘V.’ Yes. You begin at the target’s forehead, then sweep down towards their left eye—som. Then you sweep the wand back up towards the target’s forehead—ne. Then sweep down towards the right eye—ron. If it helps, imagine you're shutting their eyelids with your wand.”

 

Professor Dryncaster turned back to face Guinevere and Betrys. “Now then, let’s get started. Ms. Grey, since I called you first, you will get the first attempt. Sit up straight, ladies. Yes.”

 

Guinevere gulped and straightened her back. She raised her wand and tried to steady her hand. Betrys was staring at her, smiling.

 

I can do this. She centered her wand between Betrys’s green braids. “Somneron!”

 

But Betrys remained upright. Her smile widened.

 

“Mmm,” said Professor Dryncaster, shaking her head. “No. Your hands are going to have to be steadier than that, lovely.” She turned toward the rest of the students. “And remember, class, the tone of voice is important too. Yes. You need to speak the incantation as if you are attempting to lull the target to sleep.”

 

She turned back to the two girls. “Okay, Ms. Lush, your turn.”

 

Guinevere sat up straight and gripped the arms of the chair tight. She saw Betrys raise her hand, pointing it directly at her forehead. Betrys grinned so wide that Guinevere could see nearly every tooth in her mouth.

 

“Somneron.”

 

 

***

 

 

“Ughhh…”

 

When Guinevere awoke, she was lying on the hardwood floor at the bottom of the lecture hall. Her eyes still closed, she slowly stretched out her limbs. She felt two bodies on either side of her. Lush must have gotten me. Damn! She eventually opened her eyes and the vaulted ceiling of the lecture hall gradually came into focus. When she felt like she had enough strength, she lifted her head up.

 

Mair was lying on Guinevere’s left. She lied on her back, snoring softly with her green robes splayed out on the floor. Guinevere looked around and saw six other students sleeping next to her in the corner of the lecture hall. She looked toward the lectern and saw another student, unconscious, floating in the air towards them. The student's long black hair hung limply from her head as she floated in Guinevere's direction. She recognized her as Eira Cambrie, one of the two girls in black robes that had been sitting with Betrys. Professor Dryncaster softly dropped Eira on the ground next to the other sleeping girls.

 

“Very good, Ms. Wygold. Yes. Please return to your seat. Next up… Alys Merwin and Cadi Fflur.”

 

Guinevere sat up and rested her back against the wall. She saw Alys walk down to the lectern, her long blonde braids bouncing as she took each step. Following a few steps behind her was Betrys's other friend, the blonde with a pixie cut. Cadi Fflur was short, maybe even shorter than Mair. Alys towered over Cadi, the height difference between the two making for a comical pairing.

 

“Sit up straight, my lovelies. Good. Ms. Merwin, please proceed.”

 

Alys raised her wand. Guinevere noticed that Cadi didn't look nearly as confident as Betrys had.

 

“Somneron.”

 

In an instant, Cadi fell limp back into her chair, eyes closed.

 

“Very good, Ms. Merwin. Yes. Impeccable wand movement,” said Professor Dryncaster. She pointed her wand at Cadi and said, “Eigeron.” Slowly, Cadi’s limp body floated up out of the chair.

 

Professor Baines floated Cadi across the room and plopped her down next to Eira. Guinevere, now part of the conscious crowd, decided to stand up and walk back to her seat.

 

As she did so, Guinevere caught sight of Betrys sitting up towards the top of the lecture hall, now alone. Betrys looked at her and giggled.

 

“Fuck you,” Guinevere muttered to herself as she walked up the steps.

 

“Don’t take it personally,” said Alys, who was walking behind her.

 

“Easy for you to say,” said Guinevere as she took her seat. “You weren’t the first girl snoring today. ‘Impeccable wand movement.’”

 

Alys smiled, “Practice makes perfect.”

 

Guinevere and Alys watched the rest of the students perform the exercise. Eventually Mair woke up and joined them. She rubbed her head as she sat down. “How long was I out for?”

 

“About fifteen minutes,” said Alys.

 

“Damn,” Mair said, turning to Guinevere. “You passed out like a sack of lurdbells. Lush got you good.”

 

“Thanks, Mair.”

 

“No problem,” she said, laying her head on the desk.

 

As the end of class approached and the students began to pack their bags, the doors to the lecture hall swung open. A tall witch in black robes swept down the stairs toward the lectern. She stopped by Professor Dryncaster and whispered something inaudible into her ear, then turned around and left the room as quickly as she came.

 

The professor paused for a moment before looking up towards the students. “I’ve just been told that all students are to report to the Great Hall immediately for a mandatory assembly. Yes. Orders of the Head Maven.”

 

The lecture hall broke out into a cacophony of whispers. “Mandatory coven?” said Mair. “Must be important. Maybe they’re letting the Druicraeft students onto campus early?”

 

“I don’t think the Head Maven would call a mandatory coven for that, as important as that is,” said Alys.

 

“Don’t be sarcastic,” said Mair. “I haven’t seen a wizard in days. Weirhaven is getting to me.”

 

Eventually the other students began to rise and walk out of the lecture hall. “Let’s go,” said Guinevere.

 

As the trio walked out of the School of Psychic Arts, Guinevere couldn’t help but feel like an ominous shadow was beginning to creep over the sunny autumn day.