What A Storm Leaves Behind

Chapter One: Cordella

The storm was violent against the tender land. Soft beaches along the cliffside became a wasteland of oceanic trash. Doubtless, dozens of ships lost themselves to the unforgiving waves during the tempest. But as the storm raged outside, Cordella was preparing for tomorrow's rush. It seems that every time a storm rolls in everyone in town needs a tincture for something. Salve for their dry skin, a cure for a fever, a spell to keep their paint from peeling, and some even request Cordella visit them personally to enchant their ship with luck.

Of course, she would never leave the house without proper meaning. An assuming sight on the outside but an expansive mansion indoors, sentient in its own right and always adding new rooms for strange purposes. Cordella believed she could never truly learn the ways of her home since it was always changing. Especially now that she was alone there was no telling what her house would do.

"I can't think about that now," she muttered to herself as thoughts of her former teacher crept into her mind. A subtle call came from the kitchen alerting Cordella that the water was now boiling.

"Thank you, Kit," she said to the red fox lounging on the counter, "though I would appreciate that table space if you wouldn't mind."

The fox moved ever so slightly, still taking up quite a bit of space but in a different direction than before, "What a helpful familiar you are," Cordella spoke sourly as she got to work moving the cauldron.

She had summoned Kit around five years ago when she was still considered an apprentice. At seventeen years old she hadn't fully come into adulthood and yet she showed great promise by casting high-level spells and summons. As her magic grew, so did her master's desire for Cordella to take over the potion shop and she vowed to be its inheritor when the time came. Unfortunately for Cordella, that time came rather quickly which meant she had to learn how to run a shop by her own means.

Luckily, the business was steady, perhaps it is because witches are near extinction that her shop does so well. Cordella only opens four days a week during the afternoon and she makes enough money to keep her pantry stocked. Although it wouldn't be hard to live with limited funds because of her magic, and the house of course. The structure was made by her teacher and it's been standing despite numerous attempts to burn it down. Stocked with a library, five bedrooms each with personal bathrooms, a kitchen, a garden, a living room with an impressive fireplace, and a basement where Cordella keeps most of her magical equipment.

No matter how hard she tries to avoid bringing advanced magic into the living area, small charms keep piling up. To most, the house is horribly cluttered with trinkets, crystals, books, brooms that move on their own, and plenty of random plants. However, to Cordella the mess makes everything feel livable. Clean and minimalist places make her more uncomfortable than anything else and she feels so lucky to be able to have a mess around. There was a time in her life when she had nothing but the clothes she wore and now she trips about the place because the area is filled. She could always change things around, and make it more tidy, but the display of what she has and has accomplished makes her never want a clean space. Besides, it is more fun if there is a mess. Almost like a small adventure every time she leaves her bedroom

As she continues to work on the potion, thunder crackles outside. The whole area surrounding her enchanted home is protected with a barrier that gets its power from Cordella's force of magic. Even as she's making a basic cure for scrapes she feels weakened because of the toll the barrier is taking. Every new piece of debris that is deflected makes her body work harder to keep the magic strong. Despite her enchanted stamina, her legs were the same as lead and her eyelids felt shackled to the floor.

"Well, I think that's enough for tonight, Kit," Cordella grabbed the spirit and plopped him off the table so her magical objects could clean it. Since the items were pre-enchanted all it took was a flick of her wrist and the room got to work cleaning itself. Brooms pushed dirt into the trash, rags cleaned the counter, and the dishes were placed in the sink. All was done for the day but the storm continued its rage. Cordella has to be conscious to perform magic so she moved to the couch, pulled out a book, and got ready for a very exhausting night.