The Witch & The Wardrobe Woes

Maisie stood at the hallway's threshold, staring at the all-too comfortable and much larger Anya. Her mind thinking to how this insanity started. It was the second day and counting since the now-dwindled brunette had idly 'tampered' with the strange stones in her friend's bedroom. How was Maisie to know that Anya was a practising witch? Or that those stones were ancient heirlooms with unknown and unstable energy? There had been a strange flash of light, and for a while the previously 5'1 Maisie hadn't noticed anything was wrong. That was until not an hour later, when she had noticed that her attire seemed different.

Of course, she was different. Maisie was smaller.

That was when Anya had had to come clean about her arcane abilities, ensuring Maisie swore not to tell anyone. Of course, the afflicted woman didn't have much choice - what if she kept getting smaller?! Besides, it wasn't like she knew any other magically inclined people.

The predicament deepened when Anya confided that those stones and their abilities were beyond her ken. She couldn't be sure how much smaller Maisie was going to get, or when the sudden bouts of shrinkage were going to occur.

Maisie had begun to panic, but Anya was surprisingly relaxed. There were senior members of her coven that would know exactly what to do. Of course, they'd need to be here to actually undo the magic afflicting Maisie. They'd come, to be sure, but the soonest they could be here would be in three days. In the meantime, Anya assured Maisie that she'd try and find a spell of her own to reverse all this.

The sound of Anya sipping her coffee shook Maisie from her memories. Over the last twenty-four plus hours she had randomly shrunken in spurts. Her clothes had quickly become useless, so she had borrowed some attire from her friend, equally as unfitting but functioned closer to pyjamas than anything else. As Maisie had clambered out of bed that morning, the size magic had triggered again and rendered the makeshift sleepshirt useless. Groaning, the now naked woman retrieved a discarded jacket from the floor and wrapped it about herself.

"Anya..." Maisie said, approaching her much larger friend, circling the chair like a child approaching a busy parent. "It uh... happened again."

The blonde witch had grown less and less panicked with each spurt, at first it had been alarming, then purely curious from an arcane perspective but now? Well now Maisie was interrupting her morning coffee.

Anya kept her eyes on her tome. "I told you; I'm looking for an answer, okay? Besides, someone will be here tomorrow to fix you."

Maisie stifled her desire to snap back at her friend's blase attitude, shifting awkwardly on the spot as she pulled the huge jacket tighter across her form. "Well, can you... at least find me something to wear? Or maybe go and buy something...?"

Anya sighed, her gaze shifted to take in her shrunken friend. "Sweetie." She said, like she was twisting a knife. "I don't think you're going to like what you'd fit into at that size..." Her lips curling into a thin smirk.

Maisie tried not to think about that mental image - deciding that this would be the longest day of her life.