Prologue

When we are young, our parents spin little tales to encourage us to behave. These “fairy tales” we thought were “fictitious and exactly that.” Stories made up to keep rambunctious children in line. I would of had to agree, if it weren’t for one tiny little detail - Magic, or at least some form of it, exists. It’s not like in the stories, where the instant the witch says the spell, something happens. There’s not a magic mirror telling of how fair one’s beauty is. There’s no Prince Charming to rescue you, no random hero waiting on a damsel to fall into distress. No, the magic in those stories is not real. Magic that is real however, is another story. You see, the real magic comes from…

Willow stopped typing as her creative juices came to a screeching halt. She knew what magic in the real world was and how it worked. Why could she not put it into words? Every time she even attempted to put it into words, the feeling and thought process started to vanish. The ability to even describe it - gone.

How the hell am I supposed to write a story, when words won’t form? She thought to herself as she pushed against her solid oak desk to slide the office chair out. She stood as she slipped her heeled shoes onto her feet. She stretched her arms above her head and rolled her neck. The amber scented incense in her small workspace wrapping around her. Her office was lined with shelves, each shelf dedicated to herbs and crystals. However, her favorite shelf was lined with books, each one dedicated to esoteric workings. She sighed as she ran her hand along their spines. These books were her comfort. One, she didn’t know at the time she started, she needed. But, now their comfort was empty. Willow wasn’t even sure why she thought writing would be an outlet for the creative storm that had been raging in her head for the last few months. She had tried painting and crafts but none of it felt right. So, she started writing. At first, the words flowed easily from her, but now they seemed to stop and go. Walking around her desk to the door, she looked back at her workspace. It was going to be a while before she came back here. She wanted to soak up as much of the peace she felt in the space as she could. A friend of hers that ran a homeopathic vegan bath and body shop offered her a job. One that, at the moment, she financially could not refuse. Willow was cautious with everything she did. Taking baby steps and examining all the variables she could, before taking risks. Unfortunately, she was not prepared for the hand her ex-boyfriend had played. Everything started out good. After seven years, however, she started to see what he really was. He had taken control of her finances, isolated her from her friends, and damaged the belief she had in herself. She had put herself into a mental box for years. The box kept her tucked away safely never letting anyone inside. Then her ex came along. He played his hand and almost destroyed everything she was - yet, she escaped. Now, Cressa was offering her a chance to rebuild who she once was and take back her proverbial “crown”, so to speak. Accepting the job at the shop gave her a place to stay, rather than couch surfing from place to place… like she had been, since the break-up. A small tear rolled down her cheek as she locked the metal door that led to her workspace. She leaned her head against the cool metal, taking a few more moments to allow the thoughts of the past and feelings of grief to flow out of her. She wiped away her tears, took a deep breath in, and put a smile on her face as she turned away from the little bunker in the woods, leaving her past behind her.