Having learned that I in fact do have the aptitude required to use magic, it’s only logical that I would do more research into the topic. As shocked as I was initially to have learned that the spell worked, that magic was something I could actually use, in hindsight it’s just one more check in the box of an already unusual life. I had been content to wrap up my already unusual resumé by taking the pay from my medical retirement and living the NEET life, but Uncle Sam had already put the kibosh on that plan with that rather forceful “job offer” they gave me. Hobbyist-level sorceress might be an odd one, but it would probably be for the best to gain a better understanding of what it entails.

Rather, it’s downright important that I become informed on the topic. Looking at he lackadaisical approach I had taken on my first use of magic, I can’t help but cringe. What I had done was dangerous, beseeching forces beyond what’s normally dealt with by humanity to do my will. Following the spell verbatim like I had done was enough to keep me safe, but in that specific case using magic that invoked the fae like that could have far-reaching negative consequences. Much like demons, they can be sticklers for contracts and promises, and the smallest loophole can get you into a metric fuck-ton of trouble.

I don’t regret casting the spell, but approaching things with more caution in the future would be helpful. All it cost me was the price of a venti frappé, and I was able to get back at that woman for spreading rumors about my weight, after all. I just need to be more careful about my methods. And the best way to ensure so would be to study the how and why of magic and spells.

So where would someone go to do that? Their local public library of course. While you would think I would go to the massive secret archive full of grimoires for information, there’s the saying “don’t shit where you eat.” The majority of the books in their collection are deep, technical texts, full of arcane spells and forbidden knowledge. While I had lucked out with my choice of spell, it was practically the equivalent of someone opening a book on coding HTML and finding the right demo on how to open a web browser. I would be better served looking at the basic fundamentals first before diving into those grimoires.

“But Amy,” you may say, “why can’t you just do this research at home?” That, honestly comes from a sense of paranoia. I’m sure being that worried about someone checking my browsing history is a concern more common with teenagers looking at less than reputable websites, but I still haven’t forgotten all the dirt my current employers dug up on me for my job interview. I’m not feeling paranoid enough to go the full nine yards on covering tracks, but I do have a mild concern about how they might act if I’ve gained an intense new interest in the workings of magic after spending a bit too much time around the spellbooks at the archive.

The simplest solution to this, of course, is to take advantage of the local public library. One more person searching for things like “fairies” or “witchcraft” isn’t as likely to catch too much attention. Besides, there’s all sorts of new-age types out there, and it’d be easy enough to fit the profile of one of them. Just to be sure, I probably should throw in a few extra G**gle searches for wicca, horoscopes and “Organic food stores in my neighborhood.”

Knowing at least some of the truth related to the occult adds another level to reading the entry level occult books. Considering the first spell I used involved calling on the fae, it’s only logical to use that topic as a starting point.

Most people are familiar with the typical fairy tales, of elves helping cobblers with making shoes and hobgoblins assisting in cleaning houses. While these stories may seem cute, the context in which they were told adds a different side to them. Before that famous, ominously named pair of brothers took it upon themselves to document folktales, people used these stories to impart knowledge upon their children and their children’s children. Rather than merely being amusing tales, they were viewed to provide useful advice. Things such as “the forest is dangerous,” and “be careful when making deals” may seem kind of useful even from a completely mundane perspective, but they take on a new light when you begin to accept the existence of something “more” than the immediately perceivable world.

And it’s not like the advice was only applicable to the small corner of Europe the brothers Grimm collected their stories from. Though written as fiction from the start, “Rip Van Winkle” demonstrates the view that fairies have made the leap to the New World. They also show the inherent need to caution when dealing with the supernatural, with the hero of the story drinking with the fae while out hunting, only to wake up after several decades and a revolution have passed. Similar tales have been found in the folklore of settlers in both the United States and Canada, notable Nova Scotia.

Quite simply, fairies exist, and exist in the new world. By offering milk, albeit, milk with a fuck-ton of sugar and espresso blended in, the spell I had cast followed the example taught by the fairy tales of the past. The offering, combined with an innate connection with the supernatural, enabled me to entice fae to complete my request, in this case spoiling my classmates milk. Hundreds, if not thousands, of years of folk knowledge passed down and copied into a book deemed by the US government to be too dangerous to be easily accessible, describing how to cut bargains with beings that inhabit another dimension. All used by me to get back at a classmate calling me fat. It seems rather absurd when you think about it that way.

Actually, the whole idea of them being from another dimension is also rather interesting. Is it possible to visit this dimension? All the stories seem to suggest yes, but ending up trapped forever in some nightmarish fairy realm isn’t really how I’d want to spend the rest of my life. It’s interesting to think about though. Most fairy tales seem to strongly recommend avoiding this, especially since not being able to return seems like the norm. Even going into the woods seems to be all the more dangerous now, after reading this. Even ignoring the unsettling bits like wolves dressing up and pretending to be grandmothers, fairy tales really don’t plant a flattering picture of the wilderness.

Since fairies have managed to mentally jump the gap from “odd creatures from bedtime stories” to “mysterious creatures I can totally have doing tasks for me.” It’s only natural that I’d wonder what staples of children’s literature I can use. A fairy spell working how I wanted is all well and good, but it sounds from what I’ve read that the slightest mistake in wording can absolutely screw you over with them. It’s almost as bad as dealing with lawyers or the IRS; I should be exploring safer options.

I decided to start with the basics on my research, so it only makes sense that I’d start with the basics on the practical applications right now. One of the oldest and longest lasting concepts in magic is the Evil Eye. The thought that a gaze, filled with ill intent, can curse someone and cause the manifestation of negativity in their life. Without the historical context it almost sounds like new-age crap, but it’s found in dozens of cultures all over the globe. It’s ancient, rather than new age.

I figure it’s worth trying out. While most the lore I’ve read on it suggests the ability to cast curses with it is primarily found in those with green or blue eyes, one of my eyes is green so there’s likely a fifty-fifty chance I meet the requirements. As for where I should test it? School seems like the best choice.

Which is how I find myself sitting on a bench outside the lecture hall for class. Drinking a coffee, my favorite café had a nice Guatemalan roast today, I watch the campus in front of me waiting for a victi- test subject to appear. And off in the distance I see the perfect one; the girl who had been spreading rumors calling me fat.

She was still a hundred or so yards off, just close enough where I could make out her expression. She had one of her favorite frappés through a straw, grimacing every time she took a sip like her drink had gone bad, but she didn’t want to admit it. Since it’d be better to try it before she got close enough to easily notice me staring at her, I gave the spell a shot. It was a simple glare, filled with the lingering anger I felt over the damage she had done to my reputation.

Like when I had cast the previous spell, I felt movement from the warm feeling that had I had now constantly began to feel behind my stomach. The warmth flowed, up to my head, and out through my eye.

At the same time, there was a reaction from the subject. Nothing overly dramatic. She just tripped.

Not to downplay the fall she took. Her own feet got caught on each other and she tumbled forward. Caught off guard by this, she was unable to even move her arms to catch herself before hitting the ground, the only thing cushioning her fall being the drink she had been holding. Impressively, the drink splashed all over from the force of the impact. She sat there a moment, looking down at the spilled, spoiled drink she was now sitting in, before bursting into tears and running off.

I think it was a success? It certainly was eye-catching, but for all I know it could just be a fluke. She always did seem to be a bit clumsy, and she seemed a bit distracted by her drink. The timing was spot-on when comparing it to when I tried using the evil eye, however, and it seemed rather “extra” compared to how people normally trip. I can’t say for sure I was the one who caused it. Looks like another test is in order.

Soon enough, someone else appeared, trying to get to class early. This was the bitch who was spreading the rumors calling me a slut! She’s more than earned her place as test subject number two.

Like before, I shoot a quick glare at her, filled with my resentment. The same feeling of warmth flows up and out through my vision…but no tripping. Instead, she grabs at something around her neck, looking confused.

Odd. Maybe the first case was just a coincidence? Though it’s not like there was no reaction. And I felt the same something I felt the first time, and the time with the latté spell. Oh well. I can’t try for a third time, since class is about to start soon.

As I enter the classroom, I happen to glance at the girl I had attempted to curse. A flash of metal catches my eye. Specifically, a pendant on the necklace she had grabbed moments before.

The pendant is in the shape of a stylized hand, in silver. At the center of it is a bit of blue enamel, as part of an eye. I recognized that symbol.

Just as my research had shown there to be a persisting belief in the ability to spread curses through glares, there has been measures to counteract these less-than well meaning looks. This specific one was prevalent enough to appear even in mainstream media articles on traditional good luck charms. It was a Hamsa, a traditional Middle Eastern charm against the evil eye, used by all three Abrahamic religions in that region of the world.

Of all the things, to be stopped by a random charm against evil. You’d almost think I was doing something wrong here.