𝗲𝗻𝗰𝗵𝗮𝗻𝘁𝗺𝗲𝗻𝘁 ⸻ 𝗱𝗼𝘂𝘅𝗶𝗲 𝗰𝗮𝘀𝗽𝗲𝗿𝗮𝗻 [ completed ! ]

𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐫 𝐞𝐯𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐞

❝𝐢 𝐰𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐤𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐟𝐨𝐨𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐡 𝐚𝐬 𝐚 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐝𝐨𝐰𝐧.❞

❝𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮, 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐝𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐛𝐞𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐟𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 𝐚𝐫𝐜𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐚.❞

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       SPARKS OF FIRE danced in Lina's right palm as she focused, mumbling the same incantation she had repeated at least seven times at this point. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the cuckoo clock nearing seven thirty at night, though the bookstore had been closed since five. Rarely did anyone ever venture into the store, besides Eli Pepperjack when he was accompanied by Jun Nakamura. The two boys were assumed to be friends, yet they had no concept of being inconspicuous as they explored the shelves when the witch was the only one running the store at the time.

       They had purchased Seven Otherworldly Monsters and the Eli boy proceeded to ask her if she had noticed anything strange occurring in Arcadia. If something strange related to her own long lost brother manifesting out of gods knows where, then she could say she did notice strange occurrences. Apparently, her parents were blessed with a child six years before she was even born, but she had no recollection of the boy at all when she was younger. She assumed it was because of how long ago the history was, but it still confused her.

       She frowned before sighing. The sparks on her palm began to die out until the only thing she stared at was her skin, free of any burns or soot marks. It was one of the many things she found to enjoy about being a pyromancer—her own fire couldn't harm her. She was more tired today, which she found rather odd. She had gotten a fair amount of sleep the night before, considering the fact that Douxie didn't snore for once, but it still confused her.

       Maybe her centuries were finally catching up with her.

       The sudden sound of the bookstore door opening and slamming caused her to jump in surprise, the floating fire crystal that was once levitating now fell to the ground. Huffing, she turned around and saw her brother at the door as he kicked off his shoes and took off his red and black jacket. There was a scowl on his face as he continued to mumble and mutter about something relating to criminals, which made the witch hold her response back.

       Arcadia currently faced nightly robberies, but the criminals never came to the bookstore. Perhaps books weren't as valuable as they were before. The witch recalled how she used to grasp at any opportunity regarding books holding the secrets to magic itself, but then again, criminals didn't have the same mentality as her. She was refined and they were not. She prided herself with the gift of knowledge while the criminals desired useless things like works of art. Half of the artifacts within the Museum of Arcadia were duplicates of the actual object. It was sad, to say the least.