Chapter 8 Teddy
Teddy
Halloween
My parents had taken the bait.
In barely more than a day and a half of unfettered freedom I’d managed to read an entire fantasy novel and find several books on magical crafting.
After perusing through them all, I managed to cobble together a piece of magic that could craft a mask for the Halloween party tonight.
But I had to wait until the last moment to do it.
The spell required natural materials like leaves and sticks to weave the mask.
It was only meant to last for a few hours before the magic began to eat the materials and they crumbled away.
I’d found the perfect spot for my spell too.
There was a small grove of ginkgo trees near the elemental building that I’d never noticed before.
They were at their autumn peak, their fan-shaped leaves a brilliant gold that seemed to glow in the sunset light.
As I approached, several leaves detached and spiraled down, landing at my feet like an offering.
The cool weather was bringing them down fast.
“Perfect,” I whispered, gathering a handful. Their texture was soft yet sturdy, ideal for what I had in mind.
I settled beneath the largest tree, spreading my materials around me. According to the spellcraft book, timing was crucial. The mask needed to be created in stages with precise timing. The Halloween party wouldn’t start for another two hours, giving me just enough time to accomplish every step.
Drawing a small piece of chalk from my pocket, I sketched a simple circle on a nearby rock, then added the necessary runes at cardinal points.
Next, I arranged the golden leaves in a rough oval shape that would cover the upper half of my face.
The book had emphasized visualization as key to successful crafting magic.
You had to see the final product clearly in your mind if you wanted it to work.
I closed my eyes, picturing the mask I wanted.
Something elegant but not overly ornate.
Something that would transform me into someone else entirely for one night.
I wanted it to curve gracefully around my eyes, extending upward at the temples like flickering flames.
The golden leaves would overlap like scales, creating texture and dimension.
With the image firmly in mind, I began the incantation, my voice barely above a whisper.
“Elements bound by will and desire, Form and function I require. Borrowed beauty, borrowed grace, Create for me a second face.”
The leaves began to stir, though there was no breeze. They rose slightly off the ground, hovering within my circle as they started to move toward one another. I continued the spell, focusing my energy on binding them together.
“Woven tight but light as air, A visage both common and rare. Hide me well for just this night, Till morning brings revealing light.”
The magic coursed through me, flowing from my core down my arms and into my fingertips. The leaves responded, interlacing themselves with surprising precision. Where they touched, they seemed to meld together, their edges blurring as they became a single piece.
I lost track of time as I worked, completely absorbed in the delicate process.
The spell required constant attention, each leaf needing to be guided into place with both magic and occasional physical adjustment.
As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows across the lawn, the mask began to take its final form.
It was more beautiful than I had imagined.
The ginkgo leaves had retained their golden hue but now possessed an almost metallic sheen.
They overlapped perfectly, creating a seamless surface that curved exactly how I’d envisioned.
At the temples, several leaves extended upward and outward in elegant points that resembled a stylized crown or perhaps flames.
I added a final flourish, unable to help myself. It was a subtle shimmer enchantment that would make the mask catch the light when I moved. As I completed the spell, I felt the magic settle into the creation, binding it temporarily into its new form.
“Until dawn,” I whispered, lifting the finished mask carefully.
I held it up to the fading light, admiring how the gold caught the last rays of sun.
It was lightweight yet sturdy, conforming perfectly to my face when I tried it on.
Looking down at my reflection in a small puddle from yesterday’s rain, I barely recognized myself.
The mask transformed me, lending an air of mystery and elegance I’d never possessed before.
For once, I wouldn’t be Theodore Voss, second-place swimmer and disappointment to his father. Tonight, I could be anyone I wanted.
I carefully placed the mask in my bag and headed back to my dorm. For the first time in longer than I could remember, I felt a flutter of genuine excitement in my chest. One night of freedom. One night to pretend.
And who knew? Maybe something interesting would actually happen.
Back in my room, it took me only a few minutes to change.
I’d already chosen my simple outfit the night before.
There were fitted black jeans, a tight black t-shirt, and a pair of black boots that had been shined so much they seemed to glow.
My only other addition was two braided gold cuffs that fit perfectly around my wrists and a gold torque around my neck.
It wasn’t exactly a costume, but the effect was exactly what I was looking for. Slipping the mask on, I stepped in front of the mirror, giving myself a good once over.
I looked… mysterious. And nothing like Theodore Voss, which was the whole point.
The man that stared back at me from the mirror was confident and handsome.
He didn’t look like he was crumbling under the expectations of his family name or the workload of a busy schedule.
He was just a normal college student at the academy, there for a good night.
Taking a deep breath, I let that reflection take over me and seep into my very being. Tonight I was him, plain and simple. I was going to drink, have a good time, and get into some sort of mischief if the opportunity presented itself.
I steeled myself with one final glance at my transformed reflection, then headed out the door toward the Halloween party.
The quad was already pulsing with activity when I arrived, strings of enchanted lights hovering above the crowd like miniature stars.
Witches, werewolves, and all manner of magical beings mingled beneath them, their costumes ranging from elaborate transformations to simple masks like mine.
The music was loud enough to feel in my chest, some magical band playing on a conjured stage that hadn’t been there this morning.
Floating jack-o’-lanterns cast an eerie orange glow over everything, their faces changing expressions every few minutes.
The air smelled of spiced cider, magic, and anticipation.
I hesitated at the edge of the crowd, suddenly uncertain. Everyone seemed to be in groups or pairs, laughing and talking like they belonged. I hadn’t planned this far ahead. What was I supposed to do now? Just walk up to strangers and start talking?
“Fuck it,” I muttered to myself, squaring my shoulders. I headed straight for the refreshment table where a large crystal bowl glowed with swirling purple liquid. The infamous enchanted punch I’d heard so much about but never tasted.
A witch in an elaborate raven costume was ladling some into cups, her feathered mask nodding as she chatted with the people in line. I waited my turn, trying to look like I did this sort of thing all the time.
“First time trying the punch?” she asked when I reached the front, her eyes twinkling behind her mask.
“That obvious, huh?”
She laughed. “You’re looking at it like it might bite you. Don’t worry. It just makes everything a little more... interesting for a few hours.” She handed me a cup. “Beautiful mask, by the way. I’ve never seen ginkgo leaves used quite like that.”
“Thanks,” I said, surprised by the compliment. “I made it myself.”
“Impressive spellwork,” she replied before turning to the next person in line.
I took my punch and moved away from the table, sipping cautiously.
It tasted like berries and honey with an undercurrent of something wild and ancient.
Magic tingled on my tongue, spreading warmth through my chest as I swallowed.
Almost immediately, the lights seemed brighter, the music more vibrant.
Not unpleasantly overwhelming, just more present, more alive.
I drained the cup, enjoying the sensation. For once, I wasn’t overthinking everything or worrying about tomorrow. I was just... here. Living in the moment. And the second cup went down even easier than the first.
By my third cup of punch, I was actually enjoying myself. The music had drawn me closer to the center of the quad, and I found myself swaying to the rhythm, surrounded by other masked students doing the same. No one knew who I was. No one had expectations. It was exhilarating.
That’s when I spotted a guy by the punch bowl.
He was a massive figure in what appeared to be a full-body mask of living plants and vines.
He towered over most of the other students, his mask a stunning creation of leaves and small flowers that covered his entire head.
It was the Green Man of legend, perfectly executed.
As I watched, he turned and seemed to be scanning the crowd, as if looking for someone. Then his gaze landed on me, and even from this distance, I could sense his interest. My heart skipped a beat as he began making his way toward me, moving with surprising grace for someone so large.
“I’ve been admiring your mask from across the quad,” he said when he reached me, his voice deep and slightly muffled behind the living creation. “The craftsmanship is exceptional.”