Chapter Text
Your situation was, to put it nicely, not ideal. This kind of thing was exactly why your parents always warned you about magic. And really you had done a pretty damn good job of heeding their advice. You went almost your entire life not going to the local bruja for anything related to magic. While every other family in your little village visited the mysterious enchantress Vanesa for every little inconvenience, you had been steadfast in your avoidance of her. That is…until now.
You had stayed in your village your whole life, tending your parents’ shop. Staying by their side. The perfect dutiful daughter. You abided by their strict rules, bent to their whims, and respected their superstitions. You had done everything, everything in your power to please them. To make them proud. But it wasn’t enough. It was never enough.
You never asked for anything from them. So this one thing, this simple request should have been easily granted. All you wanted was to take a class from the local artisan in town. You had always admired the gorgeous stained glass windows in the village church. And you had a love for art, sewing little animals and flowers into all your clothes, sketching designs in your secret sketchbooks.
You had learned that one of the local artisans was now holding several classes, including a class that would teach you to make incredible works of art out of stained glass. This was your request, you had saved up the money for it, from the pittance your parents paid you to work their shop. You had even found someone your parents could hire during the hours you would be in class.
It was reasonable, it wasn’t too much to ask. You knew this.
Your parents did not seem to find the request reasonable. Your ears rang from the shouting you had been bombarded with. They had called you a selfish, ungrateful child. How could you abandon them this way? Leave the shop? The family’s livelihood? For some foolish dream. Your art was important to you, you had pleaded with them, taking out your hidden sketchbook, showing them the designs you had poured over for hours. The very object had offended them.
Silly little drawings were a distraction. You should be focused on the shop. On finding a husband to wed, so he could take the shop over with you once they had passed. In a fit of rage, your mother had torn the sketchbook from your hands and tossed it into the kitchen’s fireplace. You watched as years’ worth of yearning, of hoping for some life that was different from this one, turned to ash. It wasn’t just the class, it wasn’t just the sketchbook, or the yelling, or the complete dismissal of your art. It was the realization that your parents had no true respect for you, no parental unconditional love. That all these years you had been raised to be an extra hand in the shop, you existed to ensure that your parents could retire and pass the buck to someone else. They hadn’t wanted a daughter, they wanted a servant.
You hadn’t reacted, no tears, though your throat had burned from holding them in. You had looked at your parents in the eyes and shook your head, for once it was you showing your disappointment in them. Then you left out the front door without a word. Careless about the late hour, you wandered through your hometown, ambling aimlessly through the empty cobblestone streets. You had no destination in mind, as the tears silently ran along your cheeks.
When you had finally thought to stop and look at your surroundings, you had arrived on the far end of town. In front of you loomed the house of the bruja Vanesa. Your first instinct had been to turn right back around, to leave. But your burning resentment towards your parents stopped you. Leaving is what they would have wanted you to do. So just to spite them, you marched up to the door, poised to knock.
Then you chickened out and dropped your hand. It really wasn’t a good idea to bother her so late at night. You should probably just go. And that’s what you were about to do…when her door swung open. Before you stood the enchantress; tall, beautiful, and terrifying. Her long curly hair swayed as she tilted her head to examine you. An eerie smile tugged at her lips as she took you in.
“Bienvenida Y/n” she greeted, her voice soft and thick like honey.
She knew your name. Of course.
“B-buenas noches, Señora. I am sorry for the intrusion. I did not realize where I was going and I ended up here.” You replied, looking away from the intense gaze of the woman before you.
“The pull of fate led you to my door, Señorita.” She murmured as she beckoned you into her candle-lit home.
You had a strong feeling that to refuse her offer would be a bad idea, so you followed her inside.
She led you to a table in the main room and guided you into the chair before taking her seat across from you. Several candles were laid in a circle in the middle of the table. Strewn across its surface were herbs and gemstones, some of which you couldn’t identify.
“Pequeña artista do not cry.” Vanesa spoke, a strange sincerity in her tone.
You jolted at the reminder of the tears on your face and wiped them away in embarrassment.
“Your parents are crude folk, no? To treat their only daughter this way.” She tsked.
You looked at your hands folded in your lap and nodded.
“Not to worry. You are here for a reason. I will help you. So tell me, what is it you need, hmm?”
You thought it over with a furrowed brow. How could she help you? You had no idea what to do now, no clear path laid ahead of you. Staying with your parents wasn’t an option. Your future was muddied.
Your head snapped up as you realized what you needed.
“Please Señora Vanesa, tell me what my future is?”
The woman tilted her head again and pursed her lips.
“lo siento, Y/n. The future is beyond my grasp. My skills lie firmly in the present.” As she spoke, Vanessa lifted her hand. In her open palm, a purple cloud of smoke began to form.
You gaped at the display in wonder as an image began to form in the cloud. It was your parents in the kitchen arguing and shouting at each other, your charred sketchbook sitting in the dying fireplace.
“This- This is happening right now?”
“Sí. My gift allows me to see anywhere in the world, any people, any place no matter how hidden, as long as it is in the present.” As she said this, the image in the smoke changed to the two of you seated at her table. You waved your hand experimentally, and the little you in the image moved in sync.
“This is amazing, truly. But…but the present can’t help me. I need- I need a future.” You bit your lip as you said this, hoping you didn’t offend her.
Vanesa closed her hand and the smoke dissipated. She looked at you with a considering expression.
“Perhaps there is another way.”
It was your turn to tilt your head.
Vanesa put her hands together as though in prayer, then slowly she dragged them apart, another cloud of smoke began to swirl between her palms.
“I can not see your future, but perhaps there is someone else who can. As long as this person exists in the present, I can find them.”
Vanessa closed her eyes in concentration and you watched with rapt attention as an image began to form. The Bruja opened her eyes, and you both looked on at a beautiful village, full of color and life, surrounded by tall mountains. The image changed to a large house, more colorful and lovely than the village before. And then to your confusion, the image shifted to a dark and dingy place indoors. It was cramped and dusty. Within these halls stood a figure clad in a green ruana, the hood drawn over their face. A few rats scurried up the figure’s arm and perched on its shoulder.
Vanesa smiled widely and clapped her hands together, the smoke clearing out again.
“Of course, of course. The Madrigals.” She grinned.
“The Madrigals? Which village was that? I’ve never seen it before.” You questioned.
“Oh, no village you or anyone else from around here would have ever seen.” Vanesa giggled.
“I have looked in on the Encanto many times, I like to keep an eye on anyone with a gift like mine, and the family Madrigal is very blessed.”
“So this family Madrigal, they can help me find my future?”
“Hm, I wonder about that? The man in my vision, Bruno Madrigal, he is the one with the gift of precognition. But he’s…out of commission at the moment. His current residence within the walls of his family’s Casita would make it exceptionally hard for you to speak to him. And he hasn’t used his gift in almost ten years.” She explained.
“He lives in the walls!?”
“Yes, yes now keep up. Bruno won’t talk to you as you are now, he hasn’t spoken to anyone the entire time he’s been living within the walls…” Vanesa trailed off.
Then all of the sudden she looked at you straight in the eye and grinned wickedly. Your heart skipped a beat. You did not like that look.
“But that isn’t entirely true, is it? He has spoken quite often to his faithful companions.”
You shifted in your seat uneasily, uncomprehending of Vanesa’s formulating plan.
“Lucky for you I know how to do a little more than just see the present. I’m also quite gifted at transformation magic.” She laughed.
“Transformation magic? But-But I don’t understand. How will this help me? What does this have to do with this Bruno person?” You began to stand from your seat.
Vanesa grabbed a pouch from the table in front of her and reached in, grabbing a handful of green powder. She tutted at your concerned expression.
“Not to worry, Pequeña artista.”
“You will make a very cute rat.”
These were the last words you heard before you were hit with a face full of powder.