Juniper’s POV
A sharp knock on my office door breaks my concentration. Before I can respond, my best friend Fern bounces in, a smile splitting her face almost in two. Her ginger hair swaying around her pale, ivory face, as she bounds her way in front of me in three long strides.
“You better be ready to go. I am not missing the start of the festival this year because of you!” The glare that she pins me with is in direct contrast to the positive energy she is radiating. Her excitement is palpable, as always, with the start of the holiday season.
I do understand her frustration with me after last year. I was just as upset, if not more upset than she was. I couldn’t believe that my boss gave me a last minute contract that I had to evaluate before I left for the day. Him, being the nonbeliever that he is, didn’t help him understand the urgency of my departure. For him, the contract deadline was much more pressing than my ‘silly obsession with the holiday season’, his words not mine.
The first of December marks the opening of the holiday season for all believers and magical folk, like myself. We mark it with a festival in the forest that sits just beyond our city; a bonfire, traditional food brought potluck style and activities that mark the start of the season. It all starts at dusk every year.
Then at ten o’clock the elders start the ritual of the lighting of the ancient tree. Last year I barely made it for the tree lighting. Fern swore to me last year that best friend or not, she would not miss out on the food and connecting with the community before the tree lighting.
On top of all that, this year we have the added bonus of the full moon occurring today. The moon will rise at 6:14, around the same time as the sunset. This only happens every eighteen to twenty years and will give the beginning of the season an extra bit of magic, and boy could we use it with the way so many are turning away from traditions and lowing the magical current. With the way things have been going, I worry that Santa won’t have enough magic to keep the holiday going much longer.
It doesn’t help that the werewolves have no idea that Santa and our magic even exist. They think it is some silly human holiday with no truth or merit. Unfortunately, since werewolf packs are thriving, so much so that their numbers are almost doubling each year, they make the percentage of believers go down every year.
Don’t get me wrong, I am glad that they are thriving and that the Vampire and Werewolves are no longer warring. The problem is that when werewolf packs are thriving so does the number of nonbelievers. Vampires being undead somehow don’t affect the percentage and thus were never a problem for our magic. Werewolves on the other hand are dragging the percentage down drastically, even more than was foreseen. Thank goddess humans still indulge their children with the tales of Santa or we would be doomed.
Werewolves really are so simple, thinking they are the ones with the secret to hide, never seeing what is right in front of them. They think of us Magicals as human, a simple mammal with no real abilities. In reality we are more powerful than they are, we just hide our abilities with our magic.
The tapping of Fern’s shoe on my hardwood flooring brings me out of my musings and I flash her an apologetic look. “Don’t worry we won’t be late. I just finished. Let’s get out of here before Scrooge Mc Mitchell asks me to do anything else.”
“You better not get caught calling him that or he will surely make us late,” Fern whisper yells at me as I laugh at her.
“Don’t worry he isn’t even on this floor right now,” I shake my head in amusement as I pull on my heavy, red coat to leave. “Besides, I have a soundproofing spell on my office. Nothing will be heard, trust me.” I smile widely at her.
“Maybe not, but who knows how far those werewolf ears can hear,” she says barely loud enough for me to hear even though I am standing right next to her. “I wouldn’t be surprised if their hearing can get past magic. They have some crazy ass abilities of their own.” I just shake my head at her unnecessary worry, knowing that could never happen.
As we approach the elevator bay, the ding of the executive elevator chimes right as our elevator on the opposite wall arrives. We scramble to get in before we can be stopped by anyone. I lean against the sleek, metal back wall of the elevator just as the elevator doors are gliding closed. But, their movement is not quite fast enough to stop my eyes from making contact with a frowning Mr Mitchell Grinwich. He is looking at his watch with a raised eyebrow. My phone vibrates before I can even dissect what his look might mean.
Scrooge Mc Mitchell- Leaving a bit early
Me - The festival is today. My departure was approved by HR
Scrooge Mc Mitchell- And the lack of communication to me, your boss?
Me - I have communicated my need for time off for the festival every year for the past seven years
Scrooge Mc Mitchell- And yet I see no communication this year
Me - All tasks for the day are completed
Scrooge Mc Mitchell- I see
Me - If that is all
Scrooge Mc Mitchell - For today, yes. Communicate any change of your schedule with me in the future.
Me - 👍
“Did you really just send Mr Grinwich the thumbs up emoji?” Fern asks wide eyed.
“Yeah, why?”
“Maybe because he is your boss and can make your life a living hell if he wants to.”
I scoff and mutter, “He already does.”
She just rolls her eyes at me. “Oh please, you just have an issue with him because he is a werewolf. You do know that you are being just as much of an elitist as you claim to hate.”
My whole body whips around to face her in complete disbelief of what she just said. “What?!?”
“Don’t give me that. You fight against the Magicals treating those of us with lower powers as less than, but you have no problem in thinking that ALL werewolves are beneath us Magicals,” she says making eye contact with me the whole time so each word makes its mark.
“I do not..”
Before I can finish my sentence, Fern interrupts me, “You do and you know it. You just don’t like the way it feels knowing I am right.”
“I just don’t like that the nonbelievers are bringing the magical energy down year after year after year. You do realize that at some point we will lose our gifts?” I say while crossing my arms. “No magic, means no trip around the world for Santa. You know how many disappointed children there will be?”
“Perhaps if you spread some cheer and kindness your magical essence will influence others. Maybe, just maybe you are so worried about the nonbelievers that you forgot what the season is really about? The joy, the cheer, spreading goodwill to ALL? Not just to other Magicals. I also know that even without magic if we all come together we can make sure not a single child is left out.”
“Fine,” I mutter not wanting to continue this conversation.
She bumps her shoulder with mine and says with a joking tone, “You know that if you stop being so hung up on them being werewolves you just might see the good qualities in them. And don’t tell me you haven’t noticed how dead sexy they all are.”
I couldn’t help the smile that crept up on my lips. “Maybe.” I mean how can I not notice, they are the most gorgeous species I have ever seen. I don’t think anyone would argue with that. The men are all tall and fit. Then there is something about their eyes that will draw you in if you are not careful. The women are just as beautiful, tall and fit with curves to die for. Too bad they are just so clueless to the world around them.