The magic shop, as we all know by now, is a shop which appears here, there, and everywhere. Inside are a collection of old, new, forgotten, ancient items, some didn’t even exist yet. But they were there.
The shopkeeper wasn’t tired of selling his collection, he enjoyed spreading the once forgotten magic to a modern world. He liked to stick to the past, he didn’t really use new technology (though he did enjoy his digital clock). But one thing he consistently kept up with was books.
The shopkeeper loved books, for he was once an author himself. He wrote book after book after book, but never published them. He had them written by hand, some stories, some information, some were filled with poems, others filled with songs. But true to his nature, for he couldn’t help it. His books were filled with magic.
His books were readable regardless of language, regardless of sex, gender, race, anything. All would change an indictable equally. Whether a book increased someone’s intelligence, or their looks, or changed them into an animal, or a creature beyond our imagining. It was limitless.
The shopkeeper was the only individual who could read his books without the effects of the magic, which is something he was always disappointed about.
So instead, he opened a brand new section to The Magic Shop, the library.
Without any purchase, only having their name written down in the eternal book of names, to return them when their two weeks is up. They could borrow as many books as they wanted.