immortality [wizarding world] | ⚐

十九

"H-Headmistress Praelia?" Sancho said nervously, entering her office. His fears dissipated slightly once he adjusted to his new surroundings. Isadora Praelia's office was breathtaking. Three walls, including the one with the door, were plastered with bookcases that seemed to be overflowing with books: there were even ladders to access books on higher shelves. The fourth wall, the one Sancho was facing, was made entirely of glass. It had a view of the entire Castelobruxo grounds, as well as the jungle surrounding it. One of the glass panels had been cracked open, and sweet and familiar Amazonian air was filtering through. From this view, the grounds looked intoxicatingly inviting.

Her desk was in the center of what Sancho would describe as organized chaos. Magical devices, artifacts, and even creatures were on display around her office (with some books strewn on the floor next to them), but her desk sat in the middle completely pristine: Sancho thought that Isadora Praelia's office was a reflection of her brilliance. She was watching Sancho from a chair behind her desk, observing his reaction.

"Can I get your verdict, Mr. Clave?" She asked, her voice melodic. Sancho broke into a grin.

"It's... unique, Headmistress. I- In a good way, of course." She smiled back at him and summoned a chair.

"Why thank you, Sancho. I get mixed reactions: some seem to think it's too eclectic."

"Can't imagine why," The two burst out laughing as if they had just been told the funniest joke in the world. Any anxiety about meeting his Mentor immediately left Sancho as he took a seat, getting comfortable. He noticed a giant harp with gold strings and looked at it curiously. "If I may, Headmistress Praelia... What's that?" He pointed to it. She turned her head slightly to the harp and looked back at Sancho.

"First, Sancho, please call me Profesora Praelia. Headmistress sounds antique," his eyes widened and bowed his head. "And this harp is actually a Dark Magic detector. The gold strings hum whenever there's something... off, for the lack of a better word. It's almost ironic," she mused. "It plays such a beautiful tune to warn us of devastating catastrophe ahead."

"Maybe it's trying to soothe us."

"Maybe..." Her face turned serious. "But enough about Dark Magic — rest assured, there is none at Castelobruxo or in the much-loved jungle surrounding it. In fact, this jungle is believed to have the purest and most ancient forms of Light Magic."

"How do you know?" Sancho asked before thinking, his curiosity getting the best of him. "Oh - I apologize, I shouldn't have asked... you don't have to answer me, Profesora Praelia." She stood up suddenly, looking out the window.

"It's quite alright, Sancho," She paused, and something told her that just as much as Sancho could trust her, she could trust him. She decided to tell him something that only Paloma Lucera had known. "I... see things, sometimes. In my dreams. I can barely remember them when I wake up, but I get vague ideas."

"Wow," Sancho breathed. "Do you think you could be talking to," he lowered his voice. "Spirits?" She chuckled at his wonder and excitement — it reminded her very much of her own when she was his age.

"Perhaps! But enough about me, Sancho. I'm not interesting at all," Sancho heavily disagreed with her but decided to keep quiet. "Tell me more about yourself, rather..." Deciding that he would unravel the talking-to-spirits mystery later, Sancho launched into a narrative about himself.

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Isadora Praelia and Sancho Clave were engaged in an animated conversation about Manticores when the clock struck eleven. Surprised by the sound of the distant bells, they both jumped in their seats.