[ WP ] Science and Magic are merely opposite sides to which the pendulum of time swings . It has leaned for the past few centuries towards the Laws of Science but even now it begins to return ever faster back towards the Laws of Magic .

The rain fell upwards when the first witch was born in Borage. Two midwives helped Rella into the world, pulling her forth with slipping hands. Outside the window that rattled with her mother's cries, drops of rain slid towards the roof. The epidural failed to work, and the screams reached a crescendo. 
 
 
 Rella grew like a reed: tall and slim. Things went wrong around Rella. Black cats followed her, and all the stars were visible in the morning sky. She sat in the garden and listened to the crows speak. At meal times, she would repeat the sounds to her mother. 
 
 
 Her father was rarely there. He called from the lab sometimes, sending fleeting messages to his infant daughter and his young wife. The end of the project was approaching. The results in the lab rats were promising: a cure could be imminent. 
 
 
 Rella listened to her father and nodded. When she was sad, the rain flowed towards the sky. 
 
 
 
 At sixteen Rella was dark haired, with intelligent eyes and a quiet acceptance of the weird things that happened around her. Finding that her father was too busy to see her, she frequently joined him at the lab. She spun lazily on a stool, palms flat on the stainless steel countertop. 
 
 
 
 Gary, her father, pushed his safety googles onto his balding forehead, and frowned. The pipettes full of different coloured solutions lay littered on the bench. Behind thin bars, gentle lab rats squeaked. Their pink noses pushed up against the feeders, full of the same coloured solutions. 
 
 
 `` The results are all over the place,'' he sighed. `` If I ca n't reproduce the ninety-eight findings, they'll slash the funding.'' 
 
 
 `` Anything I can do to help?'' Rella asked. She opened a cage and held her palm out for a rat. It twitched and blinked black eyes at her, assessing the offered hand. 
 
 
 
 `` Could you mix another beaker of solution four?'' Gary replied. He rubbed the bridge of his nose. `` That's the only one that's been even close so far.'' 
 
 
 The rat ran into Rella's hand. Its eyes were blurred with pain. 
 
 
 `` What results do you need?'' she asked lightly. `` What would be a success?'' 
 
 
 Gary watched his daughter stroke the rat's back. Her fingernails were turning grey at the tips. The air around her roiled and stirred. 
 
 
 
 `` They need to show signs of improvement,'' he said. `` A reduction in the size of the tumours.'' 
 
 
 Rella nodded, pressing her fingers against the rat. 
 
 
 `` This will work,'' she said, the first witch of the new century. Her voice was sure and steady. The air crackled. The pendulum quivered and the Age of Science ended at the touch of a girl's fingertips.
