#de squared

@spellsoflena

Magica’s sitting room was, most definitely, her most precious sanctuary. She had everything and anything she coud need in there. There was a fireplace, a large window that let the light of the sun come in perfectly, a pair of comfortable chairs and several bookshelves lining the walls of the small room. In one corner of the room there was a simple alchemy set.

Magica’s books were arranged by genre or subject and then alphabetically. The bookshelf that held novels of many sorts was found closer to the door, while the bookshelf that was the farthest away held Magica’s most precious tomes. Among them were collections of spellbooks from decades ago, a few research journals written by important academics, and a comprehensive collection on alchemy, including recipes, ingredients and other matters.

The image of Magica De Spell, once great and powerful, reduced to making what seemed like children’s science experiments in the corner of a room wasn’t a good one. That was why the woman often practiced her alchemy when Lena wasn’t in the house. Every time she finished, she’d return the books to their rightful place and ensure that her ingredients and concoctions were safely put away.

She couldn’t help but feel extremely surprised, then, when she realized a pair of her books were missing. They weren’t books she’d used recently, either, which made her even more alert. Had somebody stolen them? Lena was allowed in the room, sure, but she never appeared interested in those books in particular.

When she heard the front door open, Magica rushed out of the room and peeked over the railing, looking down at the entrance hall of the townhouse she lived in.

“Please tell me nobody broke in just to steal my books, Lena,” the woman called out. “It’s either that or I seem to have misplaced them.”