Mystical (Mystical #1) (Revising)

Chapter Twelve ☆

The next morning, Eliza woke up with an ache in her chest that prodded her out of bed. With a determined sigh, she headed to the bathroom to figure out what was up. Staring at the mirror, she noticed something - her acne was fading away! The little dots on her skin were disappearing, and her face even felt a tad smoother.

She absentmindedly brushed her hair away from her nose, her heart starting to race. It felt almost unreal.

Walking over to her full-length mirror, she felt her chest throb. Wait a second—she actually had a chest? Her A-cup bra was practically hugging her because it had become too small.

"What on earth...?"

She studied her reflection, tugging up her shirt to take a better look. The stubborn patch of fat she'd struggled with had vanished, leaving her in shock. Her posture seemed different too—shoulders lifted, back arched. She couldn't help but roll her eyes at the fact that her hair hadn't magically transformed along with the rest of her. Seriously?

"First my vision, no more glasses needed, and now this?" she muttered to herself, clearly bewildered.

She was convinced this had to be the second phase of some kind of weird witchy transformation.

Dragging herself back to bed, Eliza reached for the ancient grimoire, opening the family book on her lap.

"Alright, Mellissa. I could really use your help here," she said with a hopeful toss of her fingers. Nothing happened. She waited for a few seconds, fingers still poised in the air.

"Come on... You've helped me out before," she whispered, the room remaining silent. Chewing on her bottom lip, she racked her brain for a plan.

"Could you pretty please help me?" Eliza glanced around the room, her tone almost pleading.

Suddenly, the pages of the grimoire started flipping wildly. She couldn't help but chuckle at the sight, shaking her head. After a whirlwind tour that included the Mystics title page, the pages gradually slowed down, settling on the section about Elves.

"Elves?" she murmured, her eyes scanning the description beneath the bold title. Her fingertip traced the words as her excitement grew.

"Often mistaken for fairies, elves are a league of their own. They might not have the power to mess with nature, but they've got this incredible gift to sense both the past and the future. And get this, they look just like humans, which means blending into crowds is a piece of cake for them. But don't be fooled—these guys are no walk in the park like mermaids. With their crazy agility, lightning-fast reflexes, and seriously awesome hand-eye coordination, they can totally hold their own in a fight. And whatever you do, don't follow an elf into a forest; you'll probably end up regretting it."

Eliza's grandmother flicked the pages of the grimoire with a magical flourish, landing on the Elf section. Amongst all the possible important information, it had to be elves. What about the Verel?

"Well, how do you kill them?" Eliza asked, and the page turned once, revealing 'How to Kill' beneath the title. In the middle of the page, a frustrating "Unknown" stared back at her.

"Awesome. You show me elves, and no one in our family or anyone before I was born knows how to kill one?" Eliza snapped the book shut in annoyance.

Outside, the thunder roared, and the sound of rain pounded against the walls. She walked to the window, gently touching her silver elephant necklace as she observed the rain battering her house and the trees swaying in the wind.

A flash of lightning illuminated the grey sky, marking the start of a beautiful storm. Eliza's lips parted, her breath fogging up the window as she watched the spectacle.