The Wolf And The Fox

Chapter 5: Something Simple

Maeve rose from her chair with a soft sigh, motioning for Wolf and Fox to follow her. "Come on," she said with a twinkle in her eye. "I think it's time you both see something."

The three of them made their way toward the back of the shop, passing rows of books that seemed to whisper ancient secrets. Maeve led them to a door that Wolf had never noticed before, hidden behind a tall shelf of dusty, leather-bound volumes. It looked like an ordinary storage closet, but Maeve reached into her pocket, pulling out a small, polished, honey coloured stone that shimmered faintly in the light. She pressed it to the door, and with a gentle click, it swung open.

Wolf blinked in surprise as Maeve stepped inside, beckoning them to follow. "Welcome," she said, "to my little sanctuary."

The hidden room was unlike anything Wolf had ever seen, outside of witchy movies from the nineties. The air was fragrant with the scent of herbs and spices, earthy and warm. Wooden cabinets lined the walls, painted a mossy, dark green. The paint was chipping in some places, giving the room a lived-in, almost magical feel. Copper pots hung from hooks above a well-worn gas stove, and small glass bottles with corks sat on shelves, filled with vibrant powders, dried leaves, and thick, amber liquids. Dried plants dangled from the ceiling, their shadows dancing in the flickering candlelight.

The kitchen was cozy but cluttered, the sort of space that felt like it had been used for centuries. Handwritten recipes were scattered across the counters, some stained with coffee rings, others marked with little notes in the margins. Crystals of all shapes and colors glittered from every corner, reflecting the dim light in soft, shimmering hues.

"This," Maeve said, gesturing gently around the room with a warm smile, "is where I do my special work. Every witch has a unique gift—something they're especially good at. Mine is potion-making. While anyone can follow a recipe to make a basic potion, those of us with the gift can create potions that are stronger, longer-lasting, and more precise. It's not just about mixing ingredients; it's about adding a touch of magic to each one. It might look a bit disorganized, but that's all part of the process."

Fox wandered over to a shelf, picking up one of the little bottles and peering curiously at the contents. "So, this is where the magic happens, huh?"

Maeve chuckled. "In a way, yes. If you ever need something, a potion for healing, for clarity, for sleep—just ask. I've got a remedy for almost anything."

Wolf traced his fingers along the edge of the counter, absorbing the comforting details of the room. It felt... secure here. At ease. He glanced at Maeve. "And as for our gifts? We don't even know what they are yet."

Maeve chuckled lightly, her eyes sparkling with playful intent. "Oh, you'll discover them in time. Some witches realize their gifts early on, while others take a bit longer. Don't worry—I'll be here to guide you. And don't be too hard on yourselves for not knowing yet; you've only just scratched the surface of the magical world."

Fox, leaning casually against the counter, flashed a crooked smile. "So, you're saying we're a bit late to the party."

Maeve gave a knowing smirk. "Something like that. And it's no accident, either. Your mothers had a sense of when the right moment would be for magic to weave into your lives." She looked at Wolf and Fox with a warm, understanding gaze.

"The journals were intended to be a catalyst, just as your mothers foresaw. Until you discover your unique gift, keep in mind that every witch can master certain types of magic—like basic spells, elemental manipulation, and conjuration. For instance, refilling a cup of coffee," she said with a wink at Wolf and Fox. "You got a glimpse of that earlier. It's also quite handy at the pub, I should mention. With drink prices these days, you'll save a fortune."