The room was charged with an air of uncertainty as Eliza contemplated David's mystic transformation. The tattoos etched onto his skin hinted at a bite or scratch – the catalyst for his metamorphosis. Concrete evidence might have been elusive, but Eliza's gut was resolute – David was now one of them, a mystic.
Across the room, Stacy's enigmatic demeanor fueled a sense of urgency within Eliza. An impending plot simmered beneath the surface, one that demanded her intervention before it unfurled its tendrils completely.
Amidst the tension, Dawn handed over the glowing rose, its luminous petals casting an ethereal glow. Yet, even as its beauty captivated, Eliza's mind remained fixated on the enigma of why Miss Canary had entrusted her with it.
The rose wasn't just a pretty flower – it held secrets, and Eliza knew she had to safeguard them.
Then, as if on cue, Jared sauntered back in, his presence injecting a certain enigmatic energy into the room. His gaze flitted briefly to the glowing rose before he cast his gaze upon the scene unfolding before him.
"Why were you at Mom's place?" Eliza's voice was a mix of curiosity and concern, directed at Jared.
Dawn's interest piqued as she realized the gravity of the conversation unfolding before her. Her gaze remained locked on Jared, waiting for more revelations.
Jared's tired eyes met Eliza's, a hint of vulnerability present. "Our mom, well, she's dealing with some complications. I was trying to help her out, but I couldn't get inside."
Eliza's eyebrows furrowed. "Why couldn't you? Is Mom okay, Jare?"
"Physically, yeah, but it's like she keeps slipping away," Jared admitted, a subtle limp in his step revealing a hint of weariness.
"Are you hurt?" Dawn's gaze flicked downward to Jared's paws. He let out a cough before settling onto his bed.
"I'm good. Terese is helping me track down Grace," Jared explained. The concept of a witch and a mystic collaborating seemed almost paradoxical, given their typically adversarial relationship.
Eliza chewed on her lower lip, her concern deepening. "I saw Mom at the club earlier, but then she disappeared. The distance from the club to my place isn't that far, but her house is quite a stretch away from here. How could she be in both places so quickly?"
Jared's response was tinged with uncertainty. "That's the question I've been trying to figure out."
Dawn chimed in, a hint of disbelief in her tone. "It's definitely weird when you think about it."
Eliza's determination solidified. "I need to head back to her house and check on her."
Jared hissed, his caution palpable. "Before you rush into anything, you need more info. You're smart enough to assess situations before diving in. Trust me, if Mom was truly in danger, I'd sense it. Witch instincts run in the family, and I haven't felt anything off."
Eliza's frustration flared. "So you're suggesting I should just sit here while Mom might be in trouble? You were right outside and didn't seem worried at all."
Jared's response was steadfast. "Because I have insights you don't. There's a lot you're not aware of."
Eliza's impatience was evident. "Maybe if anyone bothered to teach me something, I wouldn't be in the dark."
Eliza's determination to leave was met with Dawn blocking the doorway. "Hold up, Eliza. Maybe Jared's onto something. This could be dangerous, and I doubt pepper spray will cut it."
As the two exchanged concerned glances, Eliza's emotions bubbled. She bit her lip, a physical outlet for her pent-up frustration.
Eliza's resolve grew stronger. "Jared, you're explaining why everyone's after this rose, right now."
Jared leapt onto a nearby counter, meeting her gaze. "It's a rare rose from Ellevil."
Eliza's confusion was palpable. "Ellevil? Seriously, what's that?"
Jared let out a resigned sigh. "It's an elf kingdom. There are two more: Mervil and Faevil, the mermaid and fairy domains."
"Why did Miss Canary give me that rose when I was just a kid?" Eliza wondered aloud, her voice tinged with intrigue.
Jared shrugged, a puzzled expression on his face. "Honestly, I have no clue."
Determined, Eliza's gaze sharpened. "Well, we're not leaving it at that. I'm heading back to Miss Canary's to get some answers."
Dawn placed a reassuring hand on Eliza's shoulder. "Can we maybe tackle this tomorrow? I'm seriously drained." With a small smile, she retreated into her room, and Jared slipped away as well.
Alone, Eliza held the radiant rose in her palms, studying it with a mix of fascination and confusion. The glow of her own markings reflected the rose's luminance, creating an inexplicable connection that left her pondering.
Retrieving the purloined note from Miss Canary's home, Eliza's eyes scanned the words. As she yawned up to her room.
☆☆☆
The next day dawned with renewed purpose. Eliza got ready and considered their agenda. First on the list: a return visit to Miss Canary's to unearth the truth behind the Ellevil rose. Yet, the nagging concern for her mother's safety also tugged at her.
Jared had vanished into the woods earlier, citing his own business. His cryptic behavior gnawed at Eliza, a cloud of secrecy shrouding his actions. She yearned for transparency, feeling that every bit of knowledge was crucial in her quest to become a skilled mystic assassin.
Eliza's unconventional learning curve was yielding results, and her triumph over a malevolent mystic was a badge of honor. Dawn's unwavering support amplified her growth, and their partnership was a cornerstone of her journey.
Walking alongside Dawn, the urban hum of the street surrounded them. Eavesdropping on a conversation, Eliza's interest piqued as two girls discussed Stacy.
"Did you hear? Stacy's throwing a party this weekend. We should totally go!"
Eliza turned to Dawn with a determined spark in her eyes. "Stacy's throwing a party? We've got to gather intel and make sure it's not some twisted plot."
Dawn's agreement resonated. "Leave that to me. You focus on your visit to Miss Canary's."
"Thanks, Dawn." Eliza's smile radiated her gratitude.
Dawn deftly joined the girls' conversation, embedding herself in their plans seamlessly.
Eliza settled into her car, the engine humming to life. As she drove, memories of her childhood home resurfaced, along with the unease of weeks-long neglect. Her mother's enigmatic disappearance stoked worry within her, a mix of frustration and longing.
In her car, Eliza killed the engine, greeted by an eerie silence. She observed a figure emerging from her mother's house, and recognition flooded her as she spotted Eric, a familiar face from her past. Curiosity and surprise mingled as Eric glanced around, a knowing grin on his lips.
Quickly ducking out of sight, Eliza's phone buzzed with a message from Dawn.
Dawn: It's this Saturday at her townhouse. She's calling it a 'relief' party after finding her boyfriend.
Eliza's eyes widened, the implications of Stacy's gathering racing through her mind. The entangled web of mysteries seemed to tighten, but Eliza was determined to unravel each knot.
Eliza had yet to dip her toes into the raucous world of college house parties. The thumping music, the crush of bodies—it simply wasn't her scene. As she tucked her phone back into her purse, she lifted her gaze, half-hoping Eric had vanished for good.
But a familiar scent caught her attention—a sharp tang of vinegar that had become synonymous with Miss Canary. The house was a short distance away, and Eliza's curiosity propelled her towards it. She stepped inside, the door closing softly behind her.
Before she could take more than a couple of steps, a strong scent of cologne enveloped her senses. A shiver ran down her spine as she turned around, finding herself trapped between Eric's firm arms and the car's cool metal. His grin was smug, his eyes trailing over her with a mixture of audacity and familiarity.
"Looks like you've decided to grace us with your presence," Eric's voice was a low murmur, a blend of cockiness and teasing.
Eliza's brows furrowed as her lips pressed into a thin line. "Eric, let me go."
But he wasn't ready to release her. He shifted slightly, a playful smirk tugging at his lips. Eliza's back was pressed against the car, the sensation oddly electric. His proximity set her on edge, a mix of irritation and wariness twisting in her gut.
"I haven't heard from you since the beach event," Eric's tone was equal parts casual and probing.
Eliza's eyes flickered, a mixture of emotions dancing across her features. "Life got busy, you know?"
"Busy, huh?" Eric's gaze held a glint of skepticism as he leaned in closer.
Eliza's resolve intensified. She wasn't here to discuss her absence; she had a more pressing matter to address. "Why were you at my mom's house?"
Eric's façade wavered for a moment, his casual demeanor slipping. Caught off guard, he quickly recovered, a wry smile playing on his lips. Eliza's stare remained unwavering, determined to cut through any pretense.
"Well, you see," Eric began, his words carefully chosen.
Eliza's patience wore thin. "Don't bother with the excuses. Just tell me."
His gaze met hers, a silent battle of wills. "Fine, curiosity got the better of me. Your mom and I had a chat."
Suspicion flared within Eliza, and she knew there was more to the story. With Eric, there always was.
"She's asked for my help with some things," Eric admitted, flashing a mischievous grin that didn't sit well with Eliza.
"Like what? Playing matchmaker?" Eliza quirked an eyebrow, skepticism clear in her voice.
Eric chuckled softly. "You could say that."
Before Eliza could dig deeper into his cryptic response, her attention was diverted by the sight of her mother emerging from the house. But this was unlike any version of her mom she'd seen before. The torn shirt, the bruises, the scars—Eliza's heart clenched with concern.
"Mom..." Eliza's voice was a mix of worry and relief, a tumultuous blend of emotions.
Her mother's gaze met hers briefly, cold and distant. Eliza's breath caught in her throat as she noticed the new markings on her skin. They were out in the open, a visual representation of something she couldn't quite grasp.
Without a word, her mom stowed her broomstick away and headed towards a waiting car, Eric trailing behind her with a cheeky comment that earned an eye roll from Eliza. She couldn't let them just drive away, not with so many unanswered questions.
Eliza bolted towards the car, ignoring everything else around her. She needed to halt this, to protect her mother at all costs. The road blurred beneath her feet as she dashed across, the car speeding off with her mother inside.
As the car dwindled into the distance, a voice pulled her attention away from the scene. It was Miss Canary, holding a flower pot, her presence as enigmatic as ever. Eliza turned towards her, frustration and curiosity warring on her features.
"Grace has certainly undergone some changes," Miss Canary mused with a knowing smile.
Eliza's eyebrows furrowed. "What changes? What are you talking about?"
Miss Canary's reply came in the form of actions rather than words. With a graceful flourish, she placed the flower pot on the ground and fetched a shovel. Eliza watched as she traced a perfect circle in the earth, a tranquil rhythm to her movements.
"Some things, my dear, are best left untouched," Miss Canary said, her voice carrying a hint of sadness. With each scoop of soil, she buried the pot, leaving Eliza to wonder about the hidden meanings behind her actions.
"I knew you'd come today, and I know you're aware of my kind," Miss Canary stated, her tone holding a mix of understanding and intrigue. "The thing about mystics is that there are both pure and corrupt among us. Pure mystics seek to live normal lives, while corrupt ones thrive on consuming innocence. But I've chosen a different path, one that doesn't involve such consumption."
Eliza's brows furrowed as she absorbed Miss Canary's words. "So, when you talk about feeding, you mean... taking someone's soul?"
"Exactly," Miss Canary confirmed, her gaze steady. "They're drained of their essence, left either brain dead or transformed into a mystic themselves."
Eliza's mind raced with the implications. "And these pure mystics, like you, they don't need to feed to survive?"
"That's right," Miss Canary nodded, a serene smile gracing her lips.
As if on cue, Miss Canary turned and strolled back into her house, Eliza following her with a mix of curiosity and apprehension. They settled in the living room, and Miss Canary absentmindedly groomed her hair.
"By the way," Miss Canary began, breaking the silence, "do you have my note?"
Eliza's surprise was evident. "How did you—"
"I'm an elf," Miss Canary replied with a playful glint in her eyes. "To address your unspoken question, yes, someone else possesses the same rose you do."
Eliza's curiosity intensified. "Is that why you gave me the rose?"
A pause, then a thoughtful look from Miss Canary. "Partly, yes. Your mother seeks the rose for reasons that could lead her down a dangerous path. It's crucial she doesn't get her hands on it."
"Why is everyone so fixated on my rose? What makes it special?" Eliza asked, her frustration evident.
"Your rose is a link to something greater, a truth that just isn't mine to tell," Miss Canary replied, her words laden with a hint of secrecy. "One day, you'll unravel the mystery behind your rose and its significance."
Frustration bubbled within Eliza, but she sensed that arguing with Miss Canary would be like chasing shadows. Instead, her mind shifted to her mother, whose behavior was becoming increasingly concerning. She was drawn into an unhealthy circle involving Eric and her new boyfriend, and Eliza's worry intensified.
Her thoughts flickered to her brother, Jared, who was diligently trying to unearth the cause of their mother's transformation. Time felt like it was slipping away, and Eliza couldn't shake the feeling that they were running out of it. The sight of her mother changing before her eyes filled her with helplessness, a gnawing realization that there might be a point of no return.
With a graceful turn, Eliza made her way towards the exit, her eyes cast downward in contemplation. Miss Canary's throat clearing halted her movement, causing her to stand frozen in place.
"Hey, Eliza," Miss Canary's voice rang out, her tone assertive. "It's probably best if you don't show up here anymore. Your condo is a safer bet than trying to save your mom. Trust me, she's in too deep."
A soft chuckle escaped Eliza's lips as she shot a sidelong glance, shaking her head slightly. Who was this elf to tell her what to do? If answers weren't going to come to her, she'd venture out and find them herself.
A quick flick of her hand sent her hair cascading behind her shoulders as Eliza strode towards the door. With a subtle click, the door closed behind her, leaving her to face her childhood home. She surveyed the familiar surroundings, checking left and then right, half-expecting her mom and Eric to appear any moment.
With a determined step, she crossed the street and pushed open the creaky door to her old house. The scene before her was chaos embodied – clothes strewn, papers scattered, couches torn as if a tempest had swept through. A strange, mystical scent lingered in the air, prompting her to pinch her nose in distaste as she ventured forward cautiously.
The glint of steel caught her eye as she unsheathed her dagger, using its tip to nudge objects around. No direct contact – who knew what sort of residue this place held? She glanced down and grimaced at the sight of slobber and blood staining the wooden floor. Each step seemed to echo through the desolation, the only sound in this eerie tableau.
But then, a sound, a faint noise from above. Her heart raced as she froze, straining to listen. Something was up there. Something or someone. The sound ceased as abruptly as it began, leaving her standing in the midst of this wreckage, her pulse a frantic drumbeat.
What was her mom mixed up in?
Silver streaks glittered on the walls, mingling with claw marks – evidence of some mystical confrontation that had occurred right here. The air carried an otherworldly aroma, as if a dozen mystics had congregated and left their mark.
Pages lay strewn across the floor, covered in hastily scrawled notes and symbols. Eliza's gaze lifted to the bookcase, an old sentinel that had watched over her childhood. Surprisingly untouched by the chaos, it stood in eerie silence, a stark contrast to the pandemonium that surrounded it.
Eliza Placed her purse on the counter, she turned her attention to the rows of books. A strange compulsion drew her toward them. It was a sensation that had tugged at her ever since she was a child – a mix of instinct and mischievous curiosity that refused to be ignored.
Eliza furrowed her brow, eyes narrowing as they settled on the peculiar structure before her. That same silvery book from her past stood there, an enigmatic presence.
Tentatively, she reached out and tugged on the book, setting off a chain reaction. The surrounding books stirred, emitting an eerie glow as they shifted and intermingled. A cascade of silver light spread throughout the living room, and the air grew dense, making it hard to breathe.
A noise reached her ears, accompanied by the sensation of her hair gently lifting. Before she could react, a force pushed her aside, and she crashed to the floor, disoriented.
Slowly, she raised her gaze to behold her mother, suspended in the air before the books. Silver light bathed her, creating a spotlight on her collarbone, where the same swirling lines as on Eliza's broomstick gleamed.
Her heart raced as she took hesitant steps toward her mother, stumbling into the arm of a nearby chair. Dizziness gripped her, and the promise of a throbbing headache loomed.
"Mo—"
A sudden grunt escaped Eliza's lips as she was thrown against the wall once again. Her mother remained trapped within a shimmering bubble of fluorescent silver. Gazing at Eliza, she then turned her attention to the door.
With a shaky hand, Eliza brushed her hair back from her face and pushed herself up against the wall, horrified but unable to look away. The world seemed to mute as all sound abruptly ceased. The bookcase split apart, forming a circular entrance aglow with silver light. A gust of wind spiraled around them, tugging at her mother until her levitating hair fell back to gravity's pull.
Amidst the pressure of the wind, her mother was forcibly drawn into the circular entrance. And in an instant, she vanished. The bookcase sealed itself shut with a flash, its shelves returning to their original positions. The room appeared entirely ordinary, as if nothing had occurred at all.
Eliza sprinted forward, stopping abruptly, fear mingling with caution. She thrust her arm out, striking the books in a desperate attempt to trigger a reaction. Her eyes scanned the area, hoping to catch a hint of the vanished bubble. She needed it to reappear, to guide her back to her mother.
"Mom!" Eliza's voice reverberated through the air, her desperation palpable. "No, no!" Her scream echoed as she unleashed her frustration on the bookcase, fists pounding against its wooden surface.
Outside, the thump of a car's bass-heavy music mingled with the environment. Dawn's arrival already? The car door closed, followed by hurried footsteps up the steps, entering the battered home.
"Eliza!" Dawn's voice carried urgency.
Crumpling a piece of paper in her hands, Eliza glanced up at Dawn, her expression speaking volumes. The concern in Dawn's eyes was a mirror of Eliza's own turmoil. If only she could convey the inexplicable events that had just unfolded before her very eyes. She was certain that this bookcase held secrets.
Taking a slow, deliberate breath, Eliza blinked, processing the whirlwind of recent events. Her hand dipped into her pocket, retrieving her cell phone. Her heart raced in her chest, but she welcomed the frantic rhythm. She was done with it all – the confusion, the uncertainty. With practiced movements, she navigated to the directions for Witcher's Place.
Snatching her purse from the counter, Eliza strode out of the house, mirroring the determination her mother had always displayed.
Dawn's voice reached her ears, a question hanging in the air. Her friend quickly caught up, sliding into the passenger seat of the car and shutting the door. The day was transitioning to a dusky hue, the air growing cooler as evening descended.
"We need to go to Witcher's Place," Eliza muttered, the weight of her decision evident in her tone.
"Liza..." Dawn's voice was a soft murmur, her gaze fixed ahead. The fading light cast a warm, orange-brown glow. "That white cat looks familiar," she mused.
Eliza followed Dawn's gaze, spotting Jared – the same cat Dawn referred to – darting behind Miss Canary's house. "Yeah, it does," she said.
Without hesitation, Eliza ignited the engine and accelerated onto the road, the scenery blurring past her. Determination set her course.
☆☆☆
No one else would come close to death, and no one else would simply disappear. Eliza was determined to unravel the mystery of Eric's connection to her mother, to unearth whatever plan they had concocted. His actions were worse than Stacy's, the thought sending a shiver down her spine. The memory of that visit to Sweet Frog with him made her cringe – it definitely wasn't a date, she thought with a shake of her head.
Guiding her car into a parking spot near the eerie witch shop, she cut the engine and surveyed the scene. The lights were off, signaling Miss Canary's absence from work today. Eliza and Dawn stepped out of the car, being careful to avoid making any unnecessary noise. Her purse remained in the car, her broomstick was slipped into her back pocket, and her hand securely gripped her dagger.
Dawn's gaze fell on her, a teasing tone in her voice. "Looks like you're actually evolving."
A nudge against her shoulder conveyed Dawn's eagerness to assist. Eliza recognized the support that had been there for her since they were kids.
"Just trying to cut to the chase. No room for games anymore. Keep quiet and treat this as a weapon," Eliza handed Dawn her dagger.
Approaching the shop, Eliza scanned the surroundings, checking for prying eyes. It was after eight, a time when mystics often roamed. The door was unlocked, so she gently pushed it open, the chime above signaling their entry. Both Dawn and Eliza cast a quick glance at the jingling bell, nerves evident.
"Hold on," Eliza whispered, her senses alert for the faint scent of vinegar that had been teasing her nose. "Miss Canary?" She called softly.
A loud crash and a cacophony of agitated cat noises erupted from the back. Jared sprinted past them, closely followed by a black cat in hot pursuit.
Dawn's shriek was muffled by her hand as both felines vanished into the shadows. Eliza's gaze followed their fleeting figures, squinting to get a better look through the darkness as she brushed her hair away from her face.