Magical Girl Reunion - The Next Generation
An Urban Fantasy Short Story

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"The cabin in the woods had been abandoned for years, but one night, a candle burned in the window..."
"It's barely even twilight, Amy," Fianna, my best friend since childhood, eased herself onto a chair with a sigh of relief, stretching out her bad leg. "And it's our old clubhouse at the edge of the nature reserve, not a cabin in the woods."
One of the wide-eyed teenagers we had brought with us looked confused. "What's the difference?"
Michelle rolled her eyes, unpinning the bow-shaped broach from her blazer, which instantly transformed back into the (bow and) Arrows of Feminine Justice. "In media, a dozen easily-preventable murders."
Michelle's semi-sentient weapon liked puns a lot less than it's current holder did, and didn't appreciate being cotton-candy pink, a sentiment I wished Atomic Sparkle Smite shared. Fee sent Michelle the same look she'd just given me, "In reality, a far more traversable walkway."
The cement walkway ruined the aesthetics of the place, but there had been a time when we'd all feared Fee would be wheelchair-bound for the rest of her then-very-young life, and using a cane or walker over gravel or grass and dirt was still no picnic. Cement was a lot less susceptible to overgrowth than paving stones, too.
Hannah was convinced that Michelle had picked her weapon's new design on purpose, as a kind of subtle revenge for the weapons choosing us in the first place. "Fee is right, Amy: don't make this any creepier than it has to be. No one needs more flashbacks than we already have."
One didn't become a Superhero as a teenager, didn't fight evil on a weekly basis, and didn't try to re-build their life in their 20s without some degree of trauma, whether physical or mental.
I still only remembered about half of my teen years, much of it hidden behind what my psych called a "Defensive Memory Block", seeping through only in frequent nightmares. It was a good thing that Fee's weapon was a staff that could double as a mobility aid, because even surgery and regular physical therapy could only do so much to fix shattered leg bones. Michelle had trust issues out the wazoo, and Hannah both startled easily, and reacted very badly to sudden surprises.
Our families still told stories of when Fee ruined the surprise party Hannah's family planned for graduation by shouting at them loudly enough for Hannah to hear (and be forewarned) three blocks away. Fee has opinions about people who act dismissive of triggers or other disabilities, and isn't shy about sharing them.
Watching a bunch of grown adults cower away from a then-teenager on crutches is still a funny memory, though.
Of course, that was why were were here in the first place, equipped with teenagers instead of a piñata (much more fun and easier on the knuckles than a punching bag) and a Best of ... CD and portable stereo.
The Ancient Evils we once fought were creeping back into the world, and someone needed to make sure the next generation had actual guidance and protection, rather than being left to fend for themselves like we had been.
It wasn't like any of us had a whole lot of teaching or mentoring experience, but our entire childhoods had largely consisted of "Fake It 'Til You Make It" - at least as far as Magical Superheroing went - so we could at least feign confidence.
I waited until everyone was more-or-less settled. "Names can wait, if you prefer, but I suppose we should start with any questions you had?"
The nervous teen, running a fidget toy through her fingers, raised a hand. "Did your weapons change form?"
Atomic Sparkle Smite hadn't, because a keychain charm was a perfectly normal thing for anyone to have, and charm bracelets bugged me. Fee had somehow convinced Rainbow Twinkle Wand to conceal itself as a collapsible walking stick when it wasn't actively being the most ostentatious magic staff in existence ('Rainbow Twinkle' was not an exaggeration...); she was practical like that. The Whip of Divine Righteousness and Girl Power had also received an update, and currently resembled a tassel necklace.
Hannah nodded, removing the necklace and letting the Whip blow off steam with a couple of physics-defying twists and whirls before it settled into a coil at her hip. "Yes. I may have had an excuse for carrying around a length of finger braiding in the 90s, but twenty years later... not so much."
And openly carrying a whip raised all kinds of NSFW questions, which none of us wanted to deal with. That was a conversation I was happy to leave to the teens' actual parents, though, or at least put off as long as possible. I wouldn't even know where to start.
Nervous nodded thoughtfully, and glanced at the teen sitting beside her, all defiant posture and brightly-dyed cornrows. Defiant didn't even hesitate, "Are the weapons sentient? Because I swear I can hear Pookums whispering to me sometimes, and I'd really like confirmation that I'm not crazy."
Michelle did a double-take that nearly knocked her off her chair. "Pookums?"
Defiant smirked, "Can you imagine banishing an Ancient Evil back to the shadow realm and them having to admit that they were defeated by Pookums?"
Fee laughed hard enough that she actually did start to fall off her chair, saved by a quick scramble from Pinky, who was either unaware that colors other than pink existed, or didn't care. Steadying herself, Fee cleared her throat, "OK, that's a valid take, and I approve. To an extent, yes. I've always had more impressions and feelings than actual dialogue, but I'm given to understand that it varies between holders."
The Token Dude, who honestly looked like the stereotypes of a male cheerleader and the head of Mathletics had been tossed into a hadron collider and fused, looked like he wanted to blend into the walls. Unfortunately, whatever his weapon was, it probably couldn't turn him intangible. "Do we have any input into our outfits? Because I looked up some old footage from your day, and I really don't think I can pull it off."
I didn't think that even we had managed to pull off those outfits, back in the day. We were just lucky that Social Media wasn't a thing at the time, and no-one was willing to actually tell a bunch of superheroes that their fashion sense was atrocious. Not to our faces, anyway. "Somehow, we were not the worst trend the 90s ever produced. How you look is between you and your weapon, just try to have a solid mental image of what you want before you transform."
Fianna braced herself with Rainbow Twinkle Wand, levering herself upright. "So, who is ready for a training montage?"
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About the Creator
Natasja Rose
I've been writing since I learned how, but those have been lost and will never see daylight (I hope).
I'm an Indie Author, with 30+ books published.
I live in Sydney, Australia
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Comments (2)
I love the cover pictures to all your stories
Fantastic!!!