A World Away
The Shop
The soft chime of a bell sparked a flurry of movement from the corner of the store, as if the sharp ringing and sudden flood of natural light were a rare occurrence. Despite the angle of the sun, allowing for maximum rays to enter through the doorway, an abundance of shadow still hung upon the corners of the room; refusing to relent their hold over a comfortable domain. Moran opened the door further, trying to peer into the darkness and discern what exactly she was looking at.
Curiosities was very much a curious place. It catered to many beings magical, witches, wizards, and warlocks alike, as well any other name the magically inclined liked to call themselves. This wasn’t the first time Moran had visited such a place on behalf of her sister, but it was the first time she had ever visited this particular shop before.
Letting the door fall close behind her, the bell chiming once more, a wave of second darkness descended, leaving only the sound of soft swishing as the slight disturbance in the corner vanished from sight.
Eyes squinting Moran tried to focus her vision and make out what was what. Grimy lamps were present upon the ceiling, but little help did they offer her.
As a soft Hello? fluttered upon her tongue and a sense of forbidding settled deep within her chest as hesitation halted her from going any further. This place seemed desolate, abandoned. Closing her mouth, cutting off the inquiry, she debated about announcing her presence when a tall figure unfolded themselves from between the narrow aisle guarded by two short glass shelves that were cluttered beyond belief.
Jolting so bad that she elevated in the air for a good two seconds, Moran clutched her purse; ready to whip out the pepper spray that was tucked away within the side pocket.
The figure began to right themselves, Moran following their progress with wide petrified eyes. Her head tilted further and further up. She stood a bit shorter than average height, but never before did she have to crane her neck so far back.
Stormy eyes stared down at her, so vibrantly bright despite the lack of light. Sparse gray hair framed a heart-shaped face; heavy with cares and spotted with age. It was a recognizable face. The same one that had been posted upon the store’s website alongside a much younger woman with a head full of golden curls.
“Hello,” Moran greeted, her voice weak. “Are you Frey-”
“Are you lost?” the woman asked. Wrapped around vast shoulders were a mountain of shawls that were surely uncomfortable in weather such as this. Spindly arms peeked from the beneath the woolen layers, coming together as both hands rested upon the head of a cane; fingers curling around the silver head of a dragon.
“No,” Moran sputtered, floundering for a second, completely wordless as the intimidating woman bent forward with a critical gaze. “No I called this morning. Larissa Moran, about the-“
“You showed up then,” Freya interrupted, brows raised in surprise. “Those who call us often don’t make their appointments. They do not take this craft seriously or see what we see and let squander the gifts we allow them to have. Yes… Yes you are here as you said you would be, but I doubt you coming here means anything at all."
“I’m pretty sure I was meant to be here,” Moran said quickly. “Your granddaughter seemed to think so.”
“Much can be concealed over the phone,” Freya snapped. “Lies can be so easily told.”
In the past there had been some shops with a rigorous screening process and were unwilling to sell to those who were just looking to fix up their bedroom with aesthetically pleasing trinkets and decor. Being only twelve it wasn’t fit for Hailey to visit them so Moran went at her behest, pretending to be the one with the gifts or open eyes or whatever was needed in order to get what her sister wanted. Bluffing had never failed Moran before, but her persistence and confidence was crumbling away as the woman looked down upon her with a burning –almost unknowing- gaze. “Are you sure about that?” she asked.
“I wouldn’t be here if I weren’t,” Taking a step back, Moran felt the heat of summer at heels. Warmth that the closed door and shadows couldn’t keep out. Moran tried to gather her composure, an enormous feat with the crone breathing down her neck. “Please, I really need-”
“Let me tell you this, Larissa Moran. I’ve had enough of false seeing fools wandering in here, riffling through my things as if they were children toys. I’ve had enough of it! Years have been wasted upon the likes of your kind! Yes, I see clearly what you are!”
Mouth agape, Moran took a step back. It was the first time a place like this had ever mustered up the ability to scare her. The first time her sister’s interest in the world of magic ever sparked a fear of ill-intent. No other place has ever made her skin crawl or throat seize up with blinding panic.
“This isn’t some joke shop or a means to pass time. Do you have the Eye? Can you see past this soiled world into the purer lands of the Silver Court? I very much doubt-”
Heart skipping a beat Moran stood up straighter, no longer cowering against the door as harsher memories of another woman shouting down at her began to creep around her chest in a constricting manner. They were now replaced with more pleasant, albeit somewhat confusing ones of Hailey and her wildly vivid dreams that she couldn’t wait to tell Moran about.
The Silver Court.
“Crown of the world,” she muttered without realizing she had done so. “You know of it?”
A look of astonishment flicked across Freya’s features, a hand flashing up to clutch the dangling necklace that settled upon her many shawls. “What did you say?”
“Crown of the world,” Moran whispered, mouth gone dry. The words fell from her mouth, breathless and yearning; just like the way Hailey had spoken them. “Now only shadow and phantom. What a shame-”
“That is has fallen away.” With a sudden lurch forward Freya seized Moran by the forearm and began to haul her down the aisle with a gleeful bounce to her step.
“Yes, yes! I will show you the book!” she exclaimed, grip unrelenting and near painful. “It’s a very fine book. A very special one indeed…”
Curiosities was very much a curious place. It catered to many beings magical, witches, wizards, and warlocks alike, as well any other name the magically inclined liked to call themselves. This wasn’t the first time Moran had visited such a place on behalf of her sister, but it was the first time she had ever visited this particular shop before.
Letting the door fall close behind her, the bell chiming once more, a wave of second darkness descended, leaving only the sound of soft swishing as the slight disturbance in the corner vanished from sight.
Eyes squinting Moran tried to focus her vision and make out what was what. Grimy lamps were present upon the ceiling, but little help did they offer her.
As a soft Hello? fluttered upon her tongue and a sense of forbidding settled deep within her chest as hesitation halted her from going any further. This place seemed desolate, abandoned. Closing her mouth, cutting off the inquiry, she debated about announcing her presence when a tall figure unfolded themselves from between the narrow aisle guarded by two short glass shelves that were cluttered beyond belief.
Jolting so bad that she elevated in the air for a good two seconds, Moran clutched her purse; ready to whip out the pepper spray that was tucked away within the side pocket.
The figure began to right themselves, Moran following their progress with wide petrified eyes. Her head tilted further and further up. She stood a bit shorter than average height, but never before did she have to crane her neck so far back.
Stormy eyes stared down at her, so vibrantly bright despite the lack of light. Sparse gray hair framed a heart-shaped face; heavy with cares and spotted with age. It was a recognizable face. The same one that had been posted upon the store’s website alongside a much younger woman with a head full of golden curls.
“Hello,” Moran greeted, her voice weak. “Are you Frey-”
“Are you lost?” the woman asked. Wrapped around vast shoulders were a mountain of shawls that were surely uncomfortable in weather such as this. Spindly arms peeked from the beneath the woolen layers, coming together as both hands rested upon the head of a cane; fingers curling around the silver head of a dragon.
“No,” Moran sputtered, floundering for a second, completely wordless as the intimidating woman bent forward with a critical gaze. “No I called this morning. Larissa Moran, about the-“
“You showed up then,” Freya interrupted, brows raised in surprise. “Those who call us often don’t make their appointments. They do not take this craft seriously or see what we see and let squander the gifts we allow them to have. Yes… Yes you are here as you said you would be, but I doubt you coming here means anything at all."
“I’m pretty sure I was meant to be here,” Moran said quickly. “Your granddaughter seemed to think so.”
“Much can be concealed over the phone,” Freya snapped. “Lies can be so easily told.”
In the past there had been some shops with a rigorous screening process and were unwilling to sell to those who were just looking to fix up their bedroom with aesthetically pleasing trinkets and decor. Being only twelve it wasn’t fit for Hailey to visit them so Moran went at her behest, pretending to be the one with the gifts or open eyes or whatever was needed in order to get what her sister wanted. Bluffing had never failed Moran before, but her persistence and confidence was crumbling away as the woman looked down upon her with a burning –almost unknowing- gaze. “Are you sure about that?” she asked.
“I wouldn’t be here if I weren’t,” Taking a step back, Moran felt the heat of summer at heels. Warmth that the closed door and shadows couldn’t keep out. Moran tried to gather her composure, an enormous feat with the crone breathing down her neck. “Please, I really need-”
“Let me tell you this, Larissa Moran. I’ve had enough of false seeing fools wandering in here, riffling through my things as if they were children toys. I’ve had enough of it! Years have been wasted upon the likes of your kind! Yes, I see clearly what you are!”
Mouth agape, Moran took a step back. It was the first time a place like this had ever mustered up the ability to scare her. The first time her sister’s interest in the world of magic ever sparked a fear of ill-intent. No other place has ever made her skin crawl or throat seize up with blinding panic.
“This isn’t some joke shop or a means to pass time. Do you have the Eye? Can you see past this soiled world into the purer lands of the Silver Court? I very much doubt-”
Heart skipping a beat Moran stood up straighter, no longer cowering against the door as harsher memories of another woman shouting down at her began to creep around her chest in a constricting manner. They were now replaced with more pleasant, albeit somewhat confusing ones of Hailey and her wildly vivid dreams that she couldn’t wait to tell Moran about.
The Silver Court.
“Crown of the world,” she muttered without realizing she had done so. “You know of it?”
A look of astonishment flicked across Freya’s features, a hand flashing up to clutch the dangling necklace that settled upon her many shawls. “What did you say?”
“Crown of the world,” Moran whispered, mouth gone dry. The words fell from her mouth, breathless and yearning; just like the way Hailey had spoken them. “Now only shadow and phantom. What a shame-”
“That is has fallen away.” With a sudden lurch forward Freya seized Moran by the forearm and began to haul her down the aisle with a gleeful bounce to her step.
“Yes, yes! I will show you the book!” she exclaimed, grip unrelenting and near painful. “It’s a very fine book. A very special one indeed…”