People would later say that it all started during the final test. It was important like all final tests were, a determinant of skill and knowledge that should have been gained on the path to taking said test. Knowledge she had, none of her teachers could contradict that. Skill she also had, and anyone with private thoughts to the contrary kept them private.
But perhaps we should start at the beginning. And as all beginnings go...
Once upon a time there was a young girl who dreamed of becoming a sorceress.
"Not true."
Excuse me, but who is telling the story here?
"I don't care if you're the Lord of Nightmare's love child, I'm not going to sit here and listen to you lying about my life."
Okay, okay, sheesh. There was once a young girl who dreamed of becoming a priestess like her much adored mother. Happy?
"Better."
Anyway, so she went to the Convent of Ceiphied but after maybe a month there, she was back home again. Apparently, though she had the magic potential, top of the class, her religious devoutness was sorely lacking. So she was respectfully, because her mother was such a respected priestess, sent packing with a letter of recommendation for her next school.
Her family then sat down to discuss the options. Their youngest daughter was dead set against any mundane occupation so they pulled out the Princeton Guide to the Top 100 Adventurer's Schools, ignoring the section on religious training. Warrior Boot Camps and Military Institutions were a possibility since their only requirement was that you could wield some kind of weapon. But she didn't want that since her father and sister were already outstanding fighters that she could never dream of besting. Everyone was against the Thieves' Schools and our heroine's sister said if our heroine sang, the Bards College would be up in arms against such noise pollution. So that left the Magic Academies.
Which wasn't as simple as it sounded because of the sheer number of magic fields that were available. In addition, in order to be accepted in any of the academies, you needed to have previous apprenticeship to an alumni of the specific academy you wanted to attend. Luckily, in the country where the main character of our story lived, there were plenty of retired magic users so our heroine had her pick.
"Could we get on with the story already?"
Young people these days just don't appreciate the art of story-telling. Why, when I was a lad...
"You're female."
It's a figure of speech. Fine. I'll get on with it. Ahem. Because our main character insisted, let's just say she got apprenticed, learned a bunch of spells, got into one of the best Magic Academies as said by the Princeton Guide to the Top 100 Adventurer's Schools. Then she got hit with the blunt end of Reality's mallet. Flashback please and for those with sensitive hearing, earplugs.
"WHAT?!"
Don't say I didn't warn you.
"What do you mean I can't get into the Sorcery field?!"
The faculty advisor looked down at his advisee even from his seated position. In his hands were her transfer records, letters of recommendation, grade reports, the whole caboodle. It was not to say that they weren't impressive for one of her young age. He said that much to her.
"But you simply are not the correct image for a Sorceress."
"Since when has appearance determined ability!"
He looked at her pityingly. "Everyone knows that a Sorceress is tall, willowy, with a regal air about her like a fine cloak. You child do not fulfill that expectation."
"This is ridiculous!"
"Furthermore," he continued, going through some other papers on his desk. "You do not have the voluptuous, ravishing figure of an Enchantress. You're not hideously scarred or ugly to be an Illusionist. You're too physically fit to be a Summoner, too direct to be a Diviner, too impatient to be a Time Mage."
Our heroine, true to form, impatiently stood there tapping her foot as her faculty advisor went through just about everything she couldn't do for some inane reason or other. Finally, after exhausting probably every possible magic venue, he stopped. And she exploded.
"Are you telling me I can't be ANYTHING?!"
He pursed his lips, tapping one finger on his chin. There might be one venue...which I can probably get you into since I'm on good terms with the Dean of that field."
"I'll take it!!"
In retrospect, she probably shouldn't have been so eager to blindly accept the discipline of magic study when she didn't even know what it was. However, seeing as to how close she was to not becoming a magic user, her desperation was quite understandable. So our heroine went through her studies, under the assumption that she excelled only because she is the heroine, and until graduation, everything seemed bearable.
Until her final test.
"Why, of all the natural and unnatural living creatures in this world, did I get you?" grumbled Lina Inverse, leaning over the railing behind her home/workplace to glare at the nice pond with lily pads and what not. Actually, she was specifically glaring and speaking to the green frog bathing on a sunny rock.
The frog projected the image of a mental shrug. Lina never could get the frog to explain how it could send her such human images. Animals didn't know how to shrug. And of course, its mind didn't feel all clammy and damp as she expected a frog to be like. Not that she had ever touched a frog, not even this one.
Faint chimes signaled the arrival of a customer. At least, Lina hoped it was a customer and not another salesman, why was it always men, trying to sell her a broom or something. She walked briskly into the seemingly small home of no more than two rooms. But that was only on the outside. Not one person of her profession could keep everything she needed to do her job properly in only a two room hut. Lina reminded herself to enchant a doorway with dimension warping magic so she didn't have to cross through five rooms to get to the front.
"How may I help you?" she asked civilly to the customer waiting in the clean, airy front room with comfortable chairs and polished wood tables.
The customer, a slim elegant young woman only several years older than herself, looked at Lina hesitatingly.
"I'm sorry," she said softly. "But...is this...the witch's...?"
Lina hid a annoyed sigh. Remember customer service, she reminded herself. "Like it says on the sign by the gate. I am Lina Inverse, a Witch."
Her customer blinked and looked over the 'witch' she had come to seek help from. A young girl about sixteen with long red hair and not a single sign of warts, hooked nose, tangled hair, or wrinkled skin on her. She was dressed from head to toe in black though it was actually a high collar tunic and breeches under a loose overrobe trimmed with red. And this house didn't look like a witch's hovel at all.
"You needed my services?" Lina prompted.
"Are you sure you're a..."
"A Witch. Yes, I'm sure. Here's my license." Lina was rather proud that she was able to keep the growl out of her voice this time as she pulled out a card to show her prospective customer.
"Lina Inverse. Witch. License expires ten years after date of issue."
"Now, how may I help you?" Lina asked again, taking her license and putting it away in the folds of her overrobe.
Still not too convinced at this unconventional witch, the young lady sat down. "My name is Sylphiel. And I came to you because..."
"You want a love potion?" Lina saw this one coming a mile away. It seemed to be the only business people had coming to see her.
"Eh? Well...I..." Sylphiel blushed.
Why didn't people realize that love potions were only an artificial love? Lina sighed, plopping into a chair across from Sylphiel. "Look. A love potions isn't really going to help anything. If you like a guy then go ahead and tell him."
"I did."
"And?"
"He didn't hear."
"So tell him again."
"He doesn't seem to understand."
Lina looked at her. "How can he not understand what you're saying unless you're not really saying it very clearly?"
"Sylphiel!"
"Now who is it?" Lina grumbled, leaning a bit to see out the open door. A tall handsome young man was yelling from outside the fence around her home. "Is that the dunce?"
Sylphiel only blushed and studied the handkerchief that was being folded again and again in her hands.
"Let's settle this the old fashioned way. Hey you! Get in here!" Lina called.
He blinked and then did just that.
"Oh good, Sylphiel, you're alright," he said with relief.
Sylphiel blushed harder. "Go-Gourry-sama, what are you doing here?"
"Maybe I spoke too soon. Your face is all red. Do you have a fever? Maybe that evil witch poisoned you!"
Lina's eyebrow twitched.
"Come on. We'd better go before that old ugly witch comes and locks us up to eat for dinner." Gourry grabbed Sylphiel by the arm and was about to lead her out the door when it slammed shut in his face. Lina stood there, hand on the now closed door with a very forced smile.
"Excuse me, but exactly who is an old ugly witch?"
"Are you trapped here too?"
"I live here." Lina emphasized the 'here' portion.
"Oh. Did you know someone put a sign in front of your house saying that a witch lives here?"
"Gourry-sama, Lina-san is the witch."
"Witch? Where?"
"I'm the witch!" Lina shouted into the blond's ear.
"You?" Gourry asked in disbelief, rubbing his sore ear. "I may not be the brightest person in the world but even I know you're not a witch. I mean, just look at you. You're not an old, ugly, dirty, wrinkled crone wearing tattered black robes and a pointed hat. You're not carrying a broom, I haven't seen a black cat anywhere, and a witch always lives in either a cave or a house made of gingerbread."
"That's only in fairy tales, Gourry-sama."
Actually, there were some witches like that. But Lina wasn't one of them.
"Sylphiel, if I were you, I'd reconsider. Not even a love potion would work on someone this dense."
"Love potion? What did you need a love potion for?"
"Lina-san!" Sylphiel protested. "I never said I needed a love potion!"
"Don't be silly. I can clearly remember you saying..." Now that she thought about it, Sylphiel never did say anything about it. Lina had assumed, because of her previous customers. "Oh. So what did you come here for?"
"Gourry-sama is cursed."
"I am?"
"So you're saying he's been cursed by another girl who wants him for herself. Pass me that blue jar with black speckles on it."
"That's correct." Sylphiel resisted the urge to wrinkle her nose at the pungent fumes that came from the jar she just handed to Lina. "What are you doing?"
"Whipping up some magic, what does it look like I'm doing?" Lina snapped. Magic was difficult work, potion magic like this was always too exacting for her tastes. But it was what witches dealt with so she had swallowed her complaints and learned it.
"Don't you need a big black cauldron rather than that small brown mixing bowl?" Gourry asked, sitting in a corner after he almost released a trapped genie from a lead corked bottle.
"No, I do not!"
"Lina-san, why did you become a witch?"
"Because I couldn't fit the requirements for any other magic profession," snorted the young witch.
Sylphiel raised an eyebrow. "But aren't witches supposed to be..."
"Yeah yeah. I know. Everyone in my class looked like a 'real' witch. But I was short and ill-tempered as my faculty advisor put it so the Dean of Witchcraft admitted me." Lina poked at the magical mess in the bowl.
"You have a familiar then? A black cat?"
"Not all witches have black cats as familiars. Some have ravens or crows."
"I didn't see any of those around," Gourry offered helpfully.
"So what is your familiar, Lina-san?"
Sylphiel was only trying to make polite conversation but it was a question Lina really hated. Only briefly looking out the window to the pond in the back of her house, she answered shortly, "None of your business."
"Can you fly on this broomstick?"
"I thought I told you to stay in that corner!" Lina yelled, almost throwing the bowl of magic at the idiot shaking her cleaning broom. "That's just a normal broom!"
"So where is the one you fly with?"
"Witches don't have to use a broom to fly!"
"But all witches..."
"Never mind!" Lina snapped, not wanting to get into the hundredth-plus discussion of what a witch did and did not do and how Lina was in no way what a typical witch was. Besides which, the mixture in the mixing bowl was prime for casting. "Put everything down and stand right here."
Gourry, after some prodding from Sylphiel, went and stood in the middle of Lina's workroom. Tall as he was, some of the dried herbs on the ceiling brushed into his hair. Lina reminded herself to make sure she still had enough dried herbs after this tall lout left. Drawing the magic from the bowl, she quickly muttered the spell to reveal the structure of the curse to her.
"What a mess!" Lina couldn't help exclaiming at the circles of different colors and shapes floating around the oblivious man. "Whoever made this curse has got to be some two-bit, wanna-be magic user!"
"So this isn't some standard curse?" Sylphiel asked hopefully.
"Why are you so glad about that?" Lina asked as she walked around Gourry, noting the different components of the mismatched curse.
"I was afraid it was my own lack of faith and power that kept me from lifting the curse off Gourry-sama."
"You're a priestess?"
Of the many magic fields, only priestesses and witches, and their male counterparts, could remove curses. And only witches and warlocks could cast curses. Good curses that is, not like this amateur work. Not even a beginning witch would cast something this bad.
Sylphiel nodded. "I'm still in training of course. Can you undo it?"
Coming to a stop in front of Gourry, Lina chewed on her lip before turning a confident smirk to Sylphiel. "Of course I can. I graduated top of my class at the Academy. There isn't anything I can't do." She got busy on gathering the materials for the next spell. "By the way, do you have any idea of who cast this? I've half a mind to report them to the authorities. This kind of shoddy spellwork will give witches a bad name."
"I'm not too sure but there was this green-haired lady who insisted that Gourry-sama was her fiancé. Everyone thought she was deluded though."
"That isn't too much to go by," Lina grumbled. "By the way, about my fee..."
"You...aren't going to ask for Gourry-sama are you?"
Lina almost dropped the very rare bottle of crushed hen's teeth. "Why would I want an idiot like him?!"
"Perhaps you want me to defeat the local giant?" Gourry suggested. "Even though we're friends, I'm sure if you want me to, he'll understand."
Why wasn't she too surprised about Gourry being friends with a giant?
"No, I don't need you to do some crazy quest for some ridiculously rare spell component. Gold will do just fine." Gold could buy just about anything she needed.
"Gold? You mean like hay spun into gold?"
"That's the magical dwarf's territory! Gold coins are what I'm asking for!"
"I didn't know witches accepted money as payment."
"Well, I'm not a normal witch as we've quite clearly and several times over established," Lina said acidly. She really was tired of this conversation. It happened at least once a day ever since she started to practice. The worse time was when she had to go over it six times in one day.
"Why am I doing this?" she groaned, sitting against the wall of her porch in the back of her house.
The frog only looked at her.
"Oh shut up. Even if the curse was more patched together than a crazy quilt, it was simply enough to bring down. And the gold ought to cover for the spell components and a little extra."
Lina pulled her knees up to her chest.
"She's lucky. Even if he is dumb as a rock, at least he's nice to her."
If it could, the frog would have raised an eyebrow.
"I mean look at me! I'm a sixteen year old witch for crying out loud! Most witches are in their forties at their youngest!"
The frog imaged a picture of Lina tearing up her license.
"But I can't give up being a witch. It's the only thing I know how to do," grumbled the girl.
Frog rolled his eyes. As often as Lina got the criticism and skepticism of being a witch, he got to hear her complain about it all. And he knew what the next topic was going to be.
"And who would ever marry a witch anyway? As everyone is so set on, witches don't marry."
An image of her kissing a frog and that frog turning into a handsome prince slipped into her mind.
"That's for princesses silly."
A spell then?
"Who in their right mind would marry a person just for that?" Lina snorted. "Or, as my classmates so perfectly put it, what kind of witch has a frog as a familiar?"
Without transmitting any thoughts, Frog turned around and jumped into the pool. Lina sighed. She got the frog angry again, that cold silence in her mind told her that much. And unfortunately, because of her magical link to it, she couldn't ignore it while it sulked at the bottom of the pond. Perhaps she should apologize. It had been trying to cheer her up.
The chimes in the front rang again.
"You're a witch?"
"Do I have to go through this every time!!"
Frog rolled its eyes, sensing the annoyance through the link. Perhaps someday his witch would get a clue and take care of his enchantment.