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The Magic Shop

Inside the shop

added 4 days ago O Mythological Magic

As Emily pushed open the creaky door, a small bell above it tinkled quietly, echoing through the dim interior. The air inside was cool and inviting, a welcome relief from the sweltering heat outside. It was thick with the scent of sandalwood—faintly sweet, like dried herbs and old parchment. Emily stepped further into the shop, the door closing softly behind her, and the old floorboards creaking gently beneath her. Her gaze wandered as she moved deeper, peering through the dark gloom of the shop, her eyes still adjusting from the bright sun outside.

The shop was a maze of shelves. The tall, rickety structures stretched upward on every side, their surfaces crammed with an eccentric mix of objects. Trinkets and oddities were piled high, spilling over in haphazard fashion, every corner of the shop teeming with objects half-hidden in the shadows. There were glass bottles of various sizes filled with shimmering liquids; ancient books with cracked and curling spines; glittering crystals; delicate porcelain figurines; and strange, twisted metal artifacts that caught the light, their surfaces glistening eerily as the dusty windows cast a warm, golden glow over them.

Emily moved deeper and deeper into the maze of shelves, eyes wide in awe as she passed the vast arrays of ancient relics, both beautiful and strange. The air seemed to grow heavier with each step she took, as though the shop itself were holding its breath in anticipation.

There, at the end of the aisle, sat an old woman behind a large, ornate desk. She was peering intently at a large, leather-bound book, her finger gently tracing its way across the rough parchment. The thick spine was cracked and parched with age. The old woman's presence was both captivating and unsettling. Her silver hair cascaded down her back, each strand shimmering faintly in the light. Her eyes, though aged, held a piercing intensity, as if they could see through the veil of time itself. Her skin was pale and smooth, with faint lines etched into her face. She wore a long, flowing robe that seemed to shift and ripple in the dim light.

The old woman's eyes lifted from the pages, and with deliberate slowness, she closed the book. The soft thud of the cover echoed through the hushed air. Her gaze, sharp yet kind, met Emily's, and a small, knowing smile played on her lips.

"I have been expecting you, young one," the woman said, her voice soft and soothing.

Emily's breath caught in her throat—she could hardly breathe. The woman’s smile widened, and she gestured for Emily to step closer.

“This shop does not open its door to just anyone,” she said, folding her hands over the old book. “It finds those who carry the longing.”

Emily timidly stepped toward the old desk.

“You feel it, don’t you?” the woman asked. “That longing." Her eyes glistened with a powerful wisdom, and Emily felt captivated by her intense gaze. "It wakes you in the night, leaving you feeling empty, like a part of you is missing." She paused. "You desire something more—something different..."

Emily's heart thudded in her chest, her breath coming short and fast.

“What… what is this place?” she whispered.

The woman tilted her head slightly, her voice dropping to a murmur. “A place between what is and what could be.” Her eyes sparkled with amusement. “Here, you may realize your deepest desires and reveal your true self... as long as you are willing to embrace it.”

Emily nodded slowly, the feeling of anticipation growing with every moment, her excitement bubbling up from within. She knew her life was about to change forever.

“What calls to you, child?” the woman asked gently. “What creature lives beneath your skin?”


What do you do now?


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