Enchantment

Chapter 1

Somewhere amongst the peaceful streets of Richmond, London, an ear-deafening wail resonated through the heat of summer. The sound of metal clashing on metal ceased for a series of seconds, then continued. George grunted, muttering under his breath.
"I'll destroy you, you ugly troll..take that!" His sword severed the sickly green colour of a neck, just as the screen switched off.
"George, you need to tidy up right now or I'm taking the Wii away, and I mean it this time," Cora conjured up the small amount of effort she had to shoot her brother a glare that meant business. At least, that's what she hoped the 7 year old would interpret.
She sighed as the young boy before her sulked, mumbled "Fine," in the most careless manner that was a result of the most impossibly stubborn pride, and dragged his small limbs -which reminded Cora he was only just a small boy, who was her annoying little brother, after all- from the sofa to the ground littered with toys, sweet wrappers, action movies and video games.

Cora barely resisted the urge to roll her eyes; this, being stuck in an empty house while her parents were away on one of their scientific business trips, babysitting a child- who claimed he was a grown man if ever mentioned aloud, endless reading and visits to the park, library, and occasional local food shop, this was the idea of summer in the West family. Cora couldn't recall the last time she was in any sort of attraction park or a fun place, let alone the feeling of your organs tensing as you soared into the sky on an aeroplane.
'Just a bit of saving up' was her parents' excuse when she as a 12 year old girl and her baby brother mentioned their neighbours going to Spain,
'Then we'll go to a place more exotic and more magnificent than Spain or Rome or Greece'.
Well, they're still saving up 5 years later. The siblings eventually gave up asking.
It is a habit for Cora now to smile goodbye to her school friends as they travel the world, or even those that go to Brighton beach, which is a few hours away by car. But no, her parents were shocked to even hear the suggestion, you cannot go to Brighton with them, that is too far from home, they said as they boarded the plane to New York one Easter break, off to 'finalise a decision'.
Perhaps, Cora sometimes thought, perhaps they run away from their kids the first chance they get on a holiday just for themselves, perhaps our family is actually crazy rich, it has to be. But she doesn't wander now, she barely thinks about the mysterious parents she sees only during school terms. If it wasn't for the routine of morning coffee, and occasional dinner before each of them retreated into their studies, George would have thought Cora was his mother.

He couldn't be more wrong- not only for obvious reasons, but also for the fact that she looked absolutely nothing like either of her parents. Whilst her mother had long, slim limbs that sloped gracefully in an almost feline fashion, Cora had a shorter, rounder frame of 5'2 with generous curves- perhaps too generous on the bottom- which were the key to her cursing every morning when a skirt looked deformed in the mirror. And whereas her father had soft, almond shaped eyes which glittered whenever they saw a curious scientific phenomenon, Cora's features were graced with doe like blue sockets that resulted in her never being taken seriously, even when she emitted threats to certain individuals.
Sometimes, Cora fears she was adopted as a babe, but quickly dismisses these traitorous thoughts when she reminds herself how her character seems to be a complete copy of her father's stubborn pride and mother's ridiculous mood swings. Not the best combination, she knew that, mind you.

"George, did you start your science project yet?" Cora asked her brother- who, as a matter of fact, happened to have their parents' genes well inherited- whilst absentmindedly straightening a cushion on their sofa.
Said boy blinked up at her in disbelief, twitching his nose in distaste and setting his mouth in an odd line that looked like he just ate a lemon.
"It's only July. Summer. You know, when the sun shines? When there's no school? Ever heard of relaxing? No, wait, living?" He raised his tiny fists vertically above his head, sweet wrappers wedged in between his fingers, and sighed dramatically.

Cora simply rolled her eyes, and for a second actually considered starting the project for him; then it occurred to her how desperately bored she was, and she herself sighed.
After a moment's pause: "Shall we go somewhere today?"
George squinted up at her again, and his green eyes narrowed in suspicion.
"Where? Please not the library. I'll die there, honest- the dust makes me want to choke and I want to play but Martha keeps on shushing me every time I sneeze." He muttered, fiddling with a disk.
Cora could practically see Martha, the old librarian with no particular sympathy towards young children, making every excuse possible to tell George off; the boy just had a mischievous aura surrounding him wherever he went, with his dimpled grins and cheeks dusted with freckles.
Suppressing a snort, she relented, "Fine. How about the market? They might have some interesting stuff, and didn't you want that light sword thing?" She prompted, hoping that his sharp mind wouldn't catch on the fact that the market was where most antiques and books of all kind were sold for the best prices.

Ah, books. She could could already smell their alluring scent, old pages marked by memories and lives from more than a single universe all ready to be discovered, waiting for her fingertips to open their knowledge - literally.

"No. I don't like Star Wars." George huffed and glared at Cora with surprisingly convincing sass.
"I told you, I wanted the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles' swords! Raphael has sick daggers- and Michael Angelo! Don't even get me started on his-"
Five seconds in, Cora tuned him out, as per usual. She nodded her head of course, oohed and ahhed,
even laughed where appropriate, but internally she was smirking at her success at convincing the little devil to go to the yearly market from Russia that was all too irresistible. It travelled like a circus all over the world, and sold treasures whose language Cora could understand. She looked at the scars the wooden engravings bore, looked at the worn handles of sometimes unknown objects, at the faded out colours of rich blue or red that somehow remained the deep, alluring shade they seemed to be hundreds of years ago, and she understood.

She understood that every single object she held up told a story, like a book; a story of either gentle care or harsh conflict, violence, or abandonment. She sometimes understood the attachment to these things, as if she could almost hear or feel- no, sense- the echo of a past, and her heart loved the mystery.

Sometimes, she didn't feel anything at all, and was so convinced that her mind brain finally lost its purpose that she actually googled her 'symptoms'. Then immediately regretted it- she was pretty sure that she did not have 2 weeks to live. She hoped.

"We'll get you your light turtle sword, George," Cora assured, giving the young boy a convincing smile that hopefully promised fun.
"We'll go tomorrow in the morning, before the crowds get the traffic going, and then we have the whole day out."

"Fine. But I want the daggers and the sword from power rangers-"

"George, one toy is enough."
"No, it isn't."
"George."
"Yes?"
"It's enough."
"No."

She sighed, tugging at the strands of her pony tail. This child was impossible.
"We need enough money to last us a while since Mum and Dad are going to be gone for a bit, kid, and we need food. And what about your football lessons? Who's paying for those? The tooth fairy?" She remarked, turning to go upstairs.
"Actually, Twinkle always brings money so technically-"
"George, just tidy up. We're gonna go to Jean's now. Happy?"
That shut him up, she thought smugly, but also agreed even she was tired of pretending to enjoy cooking.
Jean's was a small diner that overlooked the river Thames, and the siblings were regulars; the diner's cheesy chips were divine, and the waffles... Cora's mouth was already watering.

She quickly stepped out of her tank top and shorts that she only used when at home and slid into a comfortable, simple white sundress. Its delicate lace was carefully patterned at certain areas of the skirt, and the girl thanked her mother for at least one successful dress- despite the fact that Cora preferred jeans. But summer was summer nevertheless, and today it was exceptionally humid with no sign of a breeze. Her skin required breathing space.

Running a quick brush through her dark blonde curls, she glanced briefly at herself in the mirror attached to her wall and attempted to curve her lips seductively- then cringed, like she did almost every day.

Huffing, she turned to leave after grabbing her bag, and sashayed downthe stairs. Then tripped on the fifth step, like she did almost every day.
"For heaven's sake," Cora muttered.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Up in the heavens, a sneeze echoed in a white, spotless room.
Abel sniffed and muttered under his breath about humans, then turned back to the task at hand, careful not to let the Globe of Fate slip from his slim fingers as he concentrated his energies into it once more.