Aura Asunder | Volume One | Chapter Four
the first volume of Aura Asunder
Aura Asunder | Volume One
Chapter Four
By Ophelia Everfall
Content Warning
Sluts were everywhere. Janet Meadows felt as if rediscovering a place she’d always been meant for, surrounded by poontang.
Janet caught her own smile in a wall-mounted mirror pane, within the main caveat of cathedral-like corridors, after realizing herself far less alone than imagined would be the case. She transfigured her face willingly — forcefully — fatally towards cause — besmirching aptitudes within grafted self-belief in her abilities towards subterfuge which ran too deeply.
She’d not been around other witches before.
Ms. Underwerth was trying to not outright-laugh at Janet. The girl was crafting dastardly efforts of playing it cool, birthing that first smile Janet saw coming her way from the woman.
Janet captured a found seriousness before looking away from that pane.
Her headmistress’ towering, sensually emotive figure of strangest, sorrowful grace had stopped, studying her. They seem amused and beguiled, breaking Janet’s surface-of-pose for only a fraction of a second — her nervousness, embarrassment, and enjoyment of the attention were showing through.
Underwerth’s second building, with its steepled cathedrals, connected by tributaries of elegant side rooms, had seemed quieter on approach. Too quiet for expecting anything near the abundance of perfume wafting into Janet’s senses. Those many young women present were like her, but different. They’d all been so composed, together, manicured in how they presented themselves, yet free of spirit.
Each one passing tried to break Janet’s wide-eyed attempts at staring straight forward, welcoming her in some way their own. Yet that had proven impossible.
Midway, along their journey, Ms. Underwerth leading through the building towards Janet’s personal chambers, they’d made a stop in the drawing room. The space was full of furniture, artwork, bespoke creations which were nearly stacked atop each other, and everything was up for grabs.
“Just take a good look for now. They’ll be plenty of time.” Daphne almost whispered in the quiet.
“You’ll know better what you want to do once you see your room.”
Regardless of the assertion, no resistance would be shown in the energy of Ms. Underwerth when Janet nabbed a small, framed piece she’d wanted for her wall.
“That’s a good choice.” Was all she’d said.
To the very back they’d gone. Glimpses were about, around, of so many wonders that Janet’s mind had given up trying to quantify them, and she’d simply allowed her eyes to take it in a wash.
Three turns would be taken, each weaving deeper, farther from that grand cathedral which had gone unmentioned by Ms. Underwerth upon entrance. Carpets were a de-saturated emerald-green, and golden specked, with sand washed touches of beige edging. Walls appeared cut whole, seamless wood paneling made smooth. Embroidery had been everywhere, bezeled corners and edges, sculptures about, tassels on almost everything, and countless mirrors.
Janet realized reflections wouldn’t be a problem for her here.
It was so different than home.
Strides were growing prouder, longer, quicker. Janet was excited to see where they were headed. Something about the way she knew Ms. Underwerth saw through her, how they didn’t seem to mind, even when Janet made it so clear she hadn’t been near a woman like them before, was most encouraging to her trust.
Ms. Underwerth showed highly intelligent, and powerfully graceful for her immediate forgiveness alone. Janet respected them in a unique way unfelt before.
It was the womanliest thing Janet had ever seen, for them to simply not have been of judgement, when she’d been fighting discomfort upon their meeting, with everything so apparently intuited by the headmistress. Ms. Underwerth clearly enjoyed Janet just for her being herself, and unlike others who’d make it so clear they saw something to take. That woman was making a real effort, ensuring it clear, so Janet would know it was something pure and worth of trust she’d had to offer.
There was one admission which made Janet shirk by right of shock.
“I usually don’t like the young women who come here. You seem really cool.”
Janet Meadows found her room by instinct, knowing it from direction alone, some precognitive remembrance therein, and led towards subconscious confirmation by just how excited Ms. Underwerth appeared upon entering that final hallway, while leading toward the feature at its end. The door was enormous, something especially chosen behind. Still, the headmistress hadn’t said it plainly. Stil Janet had beaten her there.
Headmistress would guard some truths-unneeded it seemed.
The vaulted ceiling had Janet leaping by instinct let-loose, more of a hop, spirit reborn anew in the girl. There was only a largest mattress beneath an overhanging canopy therein, its draperies unchosen, many options then seen in mind, from memory of the drawing room’s stock, for utilization within Janet’s inner-decorative-planning already underway.
Janet was a natural at creating spaces for comfort by design.
Taking that all in, thinking about what she could do with the bedchamber, Janet finally heard it, head snapping-left to land upon Ms. Underwerth on instinct, her grin already widest.
Janet ran over to the window. She’d opened it and the sound grew louder.
Beyond the densely wooded tree line, down a steepest slope, heard first so quietly, then roaring, was a wide-set river running through the forest.
She would be cracking that window open every night.
Janet went late redecorating. She’d been dragging furniture through the halls, back and forth, unable to make decisions, sweating profusely, wishing that drawing room nearer, baring more soreness into her muscles, yet creaking aches from her body’s facia each time she’d move something without too great a hunch.
“Can I help with that?” One softest voice had cut through, breaking monotony of those suggestive digs towards Janet’s shameless dragging of couches.
Girls here were still girls, and Janet often angered a certain variety at-sight with her aggressively driven demeanor. They would hurl insults most cruel in the outside world — that world of squirrels.
Here things were kinder-hearted.
Another, similar, yet bolder and more cutting voice broke through before she could manage flooring the chair she’d been pulling-backwards — an awkward slouch of back wearing on her, having lifted from beneath lamented — only enhancing that burning curiosity inside, Janet wishing most deeply to set the couch-end down and discover the sources thereafter.
“We could help you—if you wanted.”
Janet Meadows had spit-up on her chin when seeing them, some immediate and terrified reaction splaying upon her face, and one which caused her to blurt, “Fuck—goddam it,” spinning sideways to wipe herself clean.
She’d eventually shook it off and looked one of them in an eye, a hand subconsciously flailing to block her own face from them both as best it could, before rubbing her eye in complete superfluousness.
“Hey.”
Letty and Leticia Hallows were laughing at Janet, but taking the situation with a sense of joyful pride rediscovered. Her hiccup of respectability had been confirming to their self-cherished beauty. How Janet played it off, spoke immediately to that way she’d hold the truth with more respect than most.
It was rare for someone to be honest, all understanding within that those sisters were the prettiest two women on Earth, and when they stood beside each other, they’d known, their togetherness magnified problems of visualization most immediately in the minds of everyone.
Confirmation was taken upon all regards by those angels of grace. They’d just shrugged it off an introduced themselves, then proceeded to dragging the next in a line of couches with their newest friend.
Something was dawning on Janet, and she’d near-immediately repressed the panic, forcing forgetfulness, after witnessing those grinded steaks they were leaving upon the hardwood flooring between all breadths of carpeting swept up into folds while driving passed.
Too many trips had been taken, before seeing the truth, to acknowledge it that moment.
Janet finally took a break, entirely at home while absorbing the sight Letty and Leticia pushing forward ahead. They provided ample chances of some peace at last, providing hopes renewed, beyond those of solitude she’d become consumed by, and Janet could feel burgeoning opportunities on the horizon. She would seek to claim some place between them boldly.
It was to be a time of truest magic. Excavations and spelunking had been in mind, before even travelling to Underwerth’s, understanding those natural formations of beauty surrounding such a place, having been lost to the simple ebbs of Carlton’s routine for so long.
Janet Meadows would be getting to know the countryside around Underwerth’s quite well, and her heart was smiling. Even better though, it had finally happened, what she’d always wanted. Someone took her heart by forces of cruelest manipulation they enjoyed, one Ms. Underwerth, for there was no doubt they’d sent Letty and Leticia her way intentionally, and Janet was grateful atop many other feelings then burgeoning to being.
No matter where she’d look upon the grounds, within the halls, on towards those behinds, that spirit of Daphne Underwerth’s deviously knowing smile would always seem present.
Later that evening, those three would make it official, it had been Janet’s favorite touch of the whole day. All were sworn into their positions, and her rightful leadership was honored at last, shown in how they’d been playing along with her so enthusiastically, enjoying those kids they were at heart.
Witch-Bitch Omega Squad had its first official meeting.
