“It’s not fun anymore.” Wichita replied.
The HR person at the Witches’ International Council looked at her dispassionately. He had conducted all of two exit interviews in his stellar twenty year career. One of the reasons had been an upgrade to sorceress and the other had been memory loss.
“It is a job. It is not supposed to be … fun.”
“I want to find myself.”
HR person blinked, probably for the first time in the interview.
“A basic invinienito spell can help with that.” he said.
Wichita took a deep breath.
“Just accept my resignation. I’ll hand in my wand and books.”
“There’s a 30 day notice period.” HR person smirked.
She hurried out of the building pausing to take a penultimate look at the hallowed halls with a floating banner of “Yes Wiccan”. Strangely enough the government slogan gave her courage.
Wichita thought the first step was that she needed to change her name. Some unscrupulous human found it incumbent to call her Wich, which wasn’t a good reminder.
The second step was to tell her parents. Maybe a step in between of being tortured on cursed fire by clueless humans was more appetizing but still it had to be done.
She went in like a normie(humans who have been untrained in the bewitching arts). No robe or wand. Unlike the gathered family at her home.
“Where’s your wand?” her mother asked immediately.
“Um, I don’t need it.”
The tension in the air was thick enough to bottle up and use in a basic anxiety potion. Then her mother’s face cleared.
“ARE YOU BECOMING A SORCERESS?”
Wichita found herself being hugged and squeezed. The family clamoured to take her to the table and forced her to sit down on the head of the table.
Well, step two had to be skipped. Or there will be no further steps.
Step three involved giving aptitude exams. As the progeny of generations of witches and wizards, she hadn’t attended public school. She doubted if wiccan drawings could help her solve the question as to why humans travel on trains at 30 km/hr when they can just manipulate the time threads to complete their journey in under a minute.Maths Fail.
Science that was taught to humans was archaic, based on suppositions and not taking into effect fourth or fifth dimensions. Science Fail.
Step four was to start living like a normie. Ugh walking. It was while she was cooking rather than conjuring food that she had her first doubt about turning normie. She gave up the harrowing ordeal and ordered a pizza.
Step five was the most complex of them all, it would take 30 days to perform the piece of complex magic that she intended to be her last.
At the end of her notice period , she went to see the HR person. There was an army of witches in his room to take a look at the girl who didn’t want to be a witch.
She handed the wand, books, cauldron and left feeling strangely light. Then she went to her parents’ home and resurrected the her last magic act.
She looked at her clone which was imbued with her qualities and drawbacks. She had added a charm to it so it would now go and find a job for her based on her aptitude.
The clone promptly walked back into the council building. Oh no! She was destined to be a witch. Stupid, stupid stupid.
It bypassed the witchcraft department and went straight to
hell Human Resources.