Witches' Whimsy

Shadows beneath the surface

The tension in Witches' Whimsy was as thick as the storm clouds gathering outside. The ancient box now sat in the center of the apothecary's counter, its dark wood pulsating faintly with an unsettling energy. Oberon Wildewood stood over it, his sharp fae features illuminated by flickering candlelight. His usual air of detachment had given way to something more serious as he circled the box, studying it with narrowed eyes.

"This is not cursed," Oberon murmured, almost to himself. "Not in the way we understand curses. This magic is older, deeper, layered like sediment."

Lia leaned against the counter, arms crossed. "That's not the only thing layered in this mess." She hesitated, glancing at Shadowpaw perched on a nearby shelf. "I met someone yesterday. Someone I think you need to know about."

Oberon paused, his gaze flicking up to her. "Go on."

"Her name is Seraphina. She showed up out of nowhere—literally walked into the shop unannounced—and asked for my help," Lia said, her words spilling out faster now. "She said there's something wrong with the wards near the river caverns. That they're... spider-webbing, unraveling in places."

At the mention of Seraphina, Oberon stiffened. His glowing eyes narrowed. "Seraphina Solace? Of all people..."

"You know her?" Lia asked, surprised.

"Know her?" Oberon scoffed, straightening. "Seraphina has been a thorn in my side for centuries. She keeps her secrets like dragons hoard gold, and her agendas are rarely clear. If she's asking for your help, it means she's in trouble—and she doesn't want to admit it."

Lia frowned. "She seemed sincere. And she showed me the wards, Oberon. They're breaking down. The magic there feels... wrong. Like it's more fae than anything I can do."

"That's because it is fae," Oberon said darkly, his attention snapping back to the box. "The wards on the caverns are older than Memphis itself, crafted by fae magic to seal away whatever lay beneath. If they're failing, it's not just age or wear—it's sabotage."

Lia's stomach sank. "She didn't mention sabotage. Just that something dark was leaking through, and it's getting worse."

"Of course she didn't mention it," Oberon said, his voice clipped. "That's the kind of detail Seraphina conveniently forgets to share. Did she tell you why she's here? What her stake in this is?"

Lia shook her head, feeling an unexpected pang of guilt. "No. And I didn't think to press her on it. I've never even heard of her before now."

Oberon's gaze softened slightly, though his tone remained firm. "That's because she disappears as easily as she arrives. Seraphina keeps her true motives hidden, even from her allies. She left without a word the last time she was here, not even to say goodbye to Mikey."

The mention of Mikey hit Lia like a blow. Mikey, who had been like family, who had left such a crater in her heart by his death. "Why didn't anyone tell me about her?" Lia whispered, her voice tight.

"Because Mikey didn't want you involved with Seraphina's schemes," Oberon said bluntly. "And neither do I. She'll use you, Lia, and leave you holding the pieces when it all goes wrong."

"That's not fair," Lia shot back, though doubt crept into her voice. "She came to me because she needs help. What am I supposed to do? Just ignore her?"

"You're supposed to be careful," Oberon said sharply. "If the wards are failing, we're dealing with forces older and darker than either of us can handle alone. This box," he gestured to the pulsating object on the counter, "might be connected. Or it might be a distraction. Either way, Seraphina's involvement complicates everything."

Shadowpaw, who had been silent until now, flicked his tail and chimed in. "He's right, you know. Seraphina's not exactly handing out trust like candy. If she wants something from you, it's because she can't—or won't—do it herself."

"Great," Lia muttered, rubbing her temples. "So you're both telling me to mistrust the one person who's actively trying to fix this mess."

"We're telling you to be cautious," Oberon corrected. "You're in over your head, Lia. This isn't just about Memphis or the shop. If the wards fail completely, it could unleash something we're not ready to face."

Lia sighed, glancing at the box. Its faint hum seemed to resonate with her own magic, setting her nerves on edge. "Fine. I'll be careful. But I'm not turning my back on her. Not yet."

Oberon's expression was unreadable, but he nodded. "Just don't let her pull you too far into her web."

Willow, who had been standing silently in the doorway, finally spoke. "So what do we do about the box? And the wards?"

"I'll head back to the fae archives and see what I can uncover," Oberon said. "In the meantime, keep this locked down. The wards in the shop are holding, but if someone—or something—is tampering with the box, they won't hold forever. Put the box in the basement and leave it there until I return. Grimstone May have been sleeping the last five years but I would bet that old gargoyle would wake up if the lower wards fail."

Lia nodded, though the weight of his words pressed heavily on her chest. As Oberon turned to leave, his coat brushing the floor behind him, she couldn't shake the feeling that this was only the beginning of something much darker.

Shadowpaw jumped down from his perch, landing gracefully beside her. "Well, that went well," he said dryly.

Lia glared at him. "Don't start."

"I'm just saying," Shadowpaw continued, his mismatched eyes glinting, "you're juggling an ancient fae box, a mysterious stranger, and Oberon's doom-and-gloom warnings. What could possibly go wrong?"

Willow chuckled softly, though her gaze lingered on the box. "Let's just hope Oberon finds answers before this thing decides to wake up." Bramble chittered a nervous string of noises from inside her coat pocket.

But even as they spoke, Lia couldn't shake the sensation that something was already stirring. And somewhere out there, Seraphina was waiting, her secrets tangled with the growing darkness. Oh and her stomach was trying to absolutely turn inside out with dread.