Camilia hasn't seen her daughter in 3 months.

She's wondered, several times, if sending her away to camp was the right choice, has wondered, if perhaps, she'd been too hasty. Especially those days where she's feeling nostalgic: as she gazes at the photo on the mantelpiece, stares at that youthful, wonderfilled expression, at her little girl pouncing over her shoulders. She traces her smile, and gazes at the immortalized image of their twin faces, so happy and smiling, and feels nothing but regret.

Then, some days, she's cleaning the living room, and she finds another dead snake hidden beneath the sofa, and she knows she made the right choice.

Other days still, days like today, she feels the anxiousness of the unknown, wonders who she'll see when her daughter returns and the door opens and she finally sees her Luz again. How different will she be? Will she be too different? Will they have changed her? Will she be unrecognizable because it's been so long?

Then she dislodges the worry because it's only been 3 months, and Luz was her child, and this camp was best for her.

She gazes at the clock, hanging over the fireplace, and smiles.

She should be happy. She is happy, absolutely ecstatic in fact.

Today was the day. Luz was coming home.

She stands in the foyer for a long time, listening to the clock tick, staring at eggshell white walls, waiting. Waiting.

The doorbell rings, and immediately Camilia knows it's Luz.

She throws the door open, sees her, and immeditately pulls her into a bone crushing hug without a word, just holding her child. Her baby.

"Luz. I'm so happy your back," She hadn't realized just how much she missed her, until she finally had her back again.

She tousles short black tresses, pulling her closer, eyes wet and teary. Luz smiles, returning the hug with a liquidy laugh,

"Mom!"

There's an awkward cough off to their left, and then Luz is pushing away from her, slow and hesitant. Camilia, as reluctant as she is to do so, lets her go. She watches her daughter with a quizzical expression.

That's when she notices the stranger on her porch.

She's tall, a grey haired, old woman laden with golden jewelry, and sharp eyes as bright as the brooch attached to her chest. She looks like one of the characters straight out of the pages of her daughter's silly little fantasy novels, as if the ink had consolidated and come to life, pointy eared and bird like and decidedly not human looking.

Even her style of dress is odd, gaudy and ridiculous (all she needed now was a red witch's hat to go along with that staff).

Camilia stares quizzically at this lady.

Luz smiles awkwardly. Indicates the red clad lady with a sweeping gesture,

"Uh Mom, this is Eda"

'Eda' smiles down at her, sharp and predator-like, showing off a bright gold fang that seemed to gleam ominously in the sunlight.

"So, you're the mother I've been hearing about… Bummer" She laughs, rough and cackling.

Instantly, Camilla distrusts her. Something about her is slimy. Dishonest.

She can't help but ask who this woman is (she's definitely no camp counselor), and how her daughter knows her.

"What?"

"I dunno. I was expecting you to be meaner"

Camilia shakes her head in frustration.

"Who the heck are you?"

Camilia moves, without much thought, to stand between Luz, and this stranger, hackles raised, her only thought being to keep this woman away from her child.

Eda glares at her in response, pulling Luz closer to her side with a protective hiss, stepping between mother and daughter, intercepting with a surprisingly quick, sharp gesture.

"Watch it, lady. I'm not letting you touch Luz"

Camilia jumps to her feet, frustrated,

"She's my daughter!" Camilia shouts, with agitated indignance.

The woman does not budge.

A tap on her shoulder. The tall woman softens somewhat, as she gazes at Luz (at her daughter),

"Eda, it's okay" She assures, and the lady stands down, body relaxing somewhat, as if Luz's word was all that mattered.

There's this closeness, this fondness about their interactions, that rubs Camilia the wrong way. Her countenance is that of a concerned mother, protecting her child.

Jealousy, hot and angering, wells up within Camilia.

What was going on here...

"Luz, who is this?"

"This is Eda. She's a witch"

Camilia never thought she'd hear those words uttered aloud, and believe them. Then again, she's also never seen a pointy eared, alabaster skinned, golden eyed woman on her porch before.

She kinda had to believe at this point.

Eda grins smugly, as if on cue, bowing, slender hand clasped at her chest, hovering just over the golden jewel attached to her collarbone, which Camilia assumed was part of her dress.

"Uh-huh. Edaline, also known as the Owl Lady, also the most powerful witch on the Boiling Isles, at your service, Miss"

Camilia blinked, speechless. This all seemed so ridiculous, too ridiculous, to even fathom. Then Eda, 'the Owl Lady', grabs her hand, placing a faint kiss to the knuckles, like the knights of old, only further sealing the ridiculous nature of the entire encounter.

Honestly though, she'll roll with the punches, at this point.

When Luz exclaims that Eda's been teaching her magic, of all things, Camilia isn't even surprised, as farfetched as it all sounds.

It was just one of those days, she supposed.

Camilia hates Eda, immediately (hates everything about her, and all she does and does not, represent), but then Luz looks at her, imploringly, that same way she'd gazed at her all those months ago, before she sent her off to camp, and something shifts.

Within ten minutes, Camilia has a witch in her house, gazing at the TV like it's some mystical device, clawing through the toilet paper with avid fascination.

She's gazing all around, neck bent nearly in half, drinking it all in.

"Nice place," She says.

And Camilia concedes it's just one of those days. One of those, letting snakes loose into the auditorium, sort of days.