A small bell jingled. The door slowly opened as if the person was curiously peering in before committing. In she walked.
Corven's imagination ran wild. A life with her would be perfect: simply cleaning the bookstore together, buying groceries together, reading to one another at night, kissing one another goodnight.
Her name must be pretty too, like...
"Welcome to the bookstore."
"Hello sir," she smiled at him.
He froze.
What a lovely smile.
"Just ask him if he has it," the woman next to her said. She looked like her sister: the same piercing sapphire eyes.
"I'll just browse first!" the girl said, her voice sweet and innocent.
Corven's heart melted. If only there was a magic capable of putting her voice in a jar.
"Fine but we don't have all day."
Corven's fairy vanished into the dusty bookshelves on the right, leaving the sister with him. She leaned against the wooden counter and looked at Corven. She eyed him up and down.
He noticed the scabbard and the unique crest on her coat. An inquisitor. A shiver ran up his spine. He fought the dire need to touch his chest. She would surely schedule an execution for him personally if she figured it out.
"Good afternoon, Inquisitor Vaela."
Vaela glanced at her crest that bore her name. She gently grabbed it and held it at eye level, twirling it in her fingers.
"Did the old man pass away?" she asked.
Corven stiffened slightly. He'd rather walk to a necropolis naked than be investigated by the inquisition. The truth would only draw attention, so perhaps the half-truth.
"No he's sleeping in the back, Inquisitor."
Vaela raised an eyebrow.
"Sleeping in the middle of the day? I remember him being a lot more disciplined."
Corven forced a chuckle.
"Well, he's getting older. He needs the extra sleep."
He hoped the young lady that captured his heart would return soon. A distraction. Anything. Just as long as it wasn't the inquisitor looking at him like that.
A loud bang.
Vaela turned to the left, to the room with all the dusty bookshelves. Before that she pointed her sword at Corven's neck. The blade kissing his skin.
"Seren, are you alright?"
An icy pit formed in his stomach, matching the cold touch of the blade. The air reeked of cold iron, probably the blood of all its previous victims. Corven instinctively raised his hands.
"I'm okay!" came a muffled reply from the back.
Vaela sheathed her sword.
They walked towards the origin of the noise.
He made sure to keep adequate distance from the inquisitor: double the length of her increasingly deadly sword. He swore he could hear it whispering his name.
They arrived to find the young woman on the ground, trying to pick herself up. A fallen bookshelf lay next to her. On top of her lay a couple of books about fairy tales.
Corven smiled.
He wasn't one to waste an opportunity, so he acted immediately.
"Let me help you."
Before anyone could react, her hands rested in his. It was perfect. It fit perfectly. It felt perfectly.
"Thank you. It's like a coffin back here," she chuckled.
"All we're missing is a vampire," Corven said.
"Don't forget the old priest," she giggled.
"You've read that too?"
"Of course! Didn't you know fairy tales have gone out of fashion for young girls?" she teased.
"Ah, yes. Prince-charming is no match for the creatures of the night," Corven smiled back.
Vaela cleared her throat.
The two looked at each other and quickly let go of their hands.
"Seren, why don't you ask for what you're looking for?"
"I'll gladly help," Corven added.
Seren smiled.
"Do you have any grimoires?" she asked.
Corven's smile faded. He had just the one but...
"I'm sorry but grimoires are far too expensive for a small shop like this," he pointed towards the noble district, "Those kinds of bookstores are over there."
Seren nodded.
"I see... I wanted to support smaller shops but thank you," she smiled, "I'll just take a regular book."
She picked one from the ground.
Corven wanted to kick himself. If she bought it here, she would think of him every time she studied magic. There's no way he could bring it up now though.
They returned to the wooden counter.
Vaela took out a small pouch of coins. It had many times more than the price of an old book.
"We'll take the water grimoire the old man bought," Vaela nonchalantly said.
"Excuse me, Inquisitor?" Corven gulped.
"Our record states that your old man bought a grimoire from a merchant a few years ago. It's illegal to sell it without notifying the proper authority. You should know that," she said.
"Wait sis, but he doesn't have one."
"He better. Otherwise I'll have no choice but to arrest him."
Corven's hands felt numb. He can't go to prison. How can he stay close to Seren then? How can he get it back inside prison?
Vaela stared at Corven with a sly smirk.
"Give me a moment."
He ran off to grab the grimoire. He had read it many times, trying to commit it to memory. But without practicing magic, the memory quickly fades. At least now he'll have some money for a necklace.
"Here you go, Miss Seren."
Corven handed it to her. His fingers brushed her hands.
Soft.
"Are you sure? Don't you want to practice magic?"
The corner of her mouth rose slightly.
"Seren," Vaela said sternly, "He can't afford a necklace, much less attend the academy."
Corven felt a dagger go through his chest.
"I know... but..."
"It's fine, Miss Seren," Corven said, "I'm happy to be able to support your magical journey."
Vaela threw the small pouch onto his hands.
"Let's go, the executioner can't be late to the execution."
"Right..." Seren replied. She glanced back at Corven and waved goodbye.
He waved back with a sad smile.
The bell rang as they exited. Corven let out a sigh.
"I miss her already."
He put his hand on his cold, scarred chest that lacked a heartbeat.
"I should follow her."
Corven went into the back and stood in front of the door. Behind it is where it had happened.
He knocked, "Dad, I'm entering."
A simple habit to keep him sane.
The room looked normal. A bed. A drawer. No windows. The floor was burned, well, only a part of it. The part that resembled a magic ritual. On the bed lay an old man. The man looked like a skeleton but he was still kicking. Unfortunately, he couldn't do any form of kicking.
"Dad, you're still here right?" Corven asked.
"..." the man breathed out through his mouth. His eyes were closed.
"I met a girl today. She's perfect."
Corven sat next to his dad and put the pouch of coins in his lap.
"She was with a demon," he chuckled.
The old man's eyes widened and sweat formed on his forehead.
"Not that kind of demon," Corven paused, "Not the one you spoke to."
The old man closed his eyes, ashamed.
"I think I'm in love with an inquisitor's sister."
The old man didn't react.
"This curse sure is something..." he murmured, "I'll try to be more careful this time."
Corven put up a closed sign on the door and looked at the setting sun past the tall mountains.
"Lovely day for an execution."