Page 40 of Magical Melee (Stonewick Magical Midlife Witch Academy #1)

The pendant felt warm against my chest as I followed Elira down a long, dim corridor. The soft sound of our footsteps echoed off the ancient stone walls, the light from the glowing sconces casting shifting shadows that seemed alive. Each step brought a mixture of anticipation and trepidation, but I kept going.

The weight of the butterfly pendant comforted me.

“This way,” Elira said softly, her silver hair gleaming in the faint light as she gestured toward a heavy wooden door. It was carved with intricate symbols and vines that seemed to move if you looked at them too long.

She touched the door, and a faint pulse resonated through the air. The carvings glowed softly before the door swung open silently, revealing a breathtaking sight.

I stepped inside and froze.

The library.

It stretched endlessly in all directions, a vast and awe-inspiring space filled with towering shelves of books, scrolls, and artifacts. Golden light poured from floating orbs, illuminating the intricate details of the architecture—the arched ceilings adorned with shimmering constellations, the marble floors inlaid with ancient runes that pulsed faintly with rhythmic energy.

It was just like the visions at the cottage. The mirror had shown me everything.

The air smelled of aged parchment and polished wood. A hint of something floral swirled around me, almost otherworldly.

The spines of the books shimmered in various hues, some glowing softly, others sparking faintly like stars.

Magical creatures that I didn’t recognize flitted about—tiny, glowing sprites dusting the shelves and large, owl-like beings perched on high alcoves, their eyes following every movement.

I took a shaky breath, my voice barely a whisper. “This… this was in the pedestal at the cottage.”

Elira stood beside me, her expression serene but tinged with emotion. “It is the heart of the Academy’s knowledge. Every spell, every piece of wisdom, every story that has ever passed through these halls is preserved here, ready to be taught to eager seasoned witches.”

I swallowed hard, my chest tightening. “It’s beautiful.”

“And it is yours to explore,” she said gently. “The library will open itself to you as you are ready.”

I turned slowly, my eyes wide as I took in the grandeur of the space.

My footsteps were hesitant at first, but as I wandered deeper into the aisles, a sense of wonder replaced the lingering doubts in my heart.

One row held tomes bound in deep green and gold, the titles flickering across the spines like flames. Another aisle was filled with scrolls suspended in midair, gently unrolling and re-rolling themselves as if they were breathing. I reached out tentatively, running my fingers along the edge of a shelf. A soft hum greeted my touch, a sincere acknowledgment that sent a shiver up my arm.

I felt Elira’s eyes on me, and though she didn’t speak, her presence was a steadying force. Yet, as awe settled over me, so did a pang of sorrow.

I missed my dad more than ever. Would he have roamed these aisles with the same wonder if he were here? Would he have shared the stories of our family’s connection to this place?

The weight of his absence pressed against me, and I blinked back sudden tears.

“He should’ve been here,” I said quietly, my voice catching.

Elira stepped closer, her voice soft but firm. “Your father wanted you to find this in your own time. He believed in your strength, Maeve, and in your ability to forge your own path.”

I nodded, gripping the pendant tightly. “I wish he could’ve shown me.”

“He guided you in his own way,” Elira said. “And now, you carry his legacy forward.”

I closed my eyes for a moment, letting her words sink in.

When I opened them, the library seemed even more alive, as though it, too, recognized the weight of the journey I was on.

With each aisle I explored, the enormity of what lay ahead grew clearer.

This wasn’t just a place of learning—it was a sanctuary, a treasure trove of possibilities waiting to be unlocked.

My new life was unfolding before me, full of challenges, mysteries, and incredible potential.

But I knew the path wouldn’t be easy.

Gideon was still lurking in the shadows, waiting for his chance to strike. The weight of his presence lingered in my mind, a constant reminder of the danger looming over Stonewick. He would do everything in his power to close the doors I had just begun to open.

I stopped before a massive, weathered tome, its title written in a language I didn’t recognize.

As I gently pulled it from the shelf, the book opened itself, revealing pages filled with shifting, luminous text.

As I watched, the words seemed to rearrange themselves, forming symbols and images that pulsed with life.

“Every book here has a purpose,” Elira said, her voice steady. “They will reveal their secrets when you are ready.”

I traced the glowing symbols with my finger, the warmth of the magic seeping into my skin.

“I don’t want Gideon to take this away,” I said quietly. “I want to fight for this place, for everything it stands for.”

Elira’s gaze was unwavering. “And you will. But remember, Maeve, the strength to fight comes not only from power but from the choices you make. You’ve already proven your loyalty, your heart. That will be your greatest weapon.”

I nodded, my resolve hardening.

I couldn’t let fear hold me back.

This was my chance to rise, to learn, and to protect those I cared about.

Gideon might try to close these doors, but I wouldn’t let him. This was my chapter to write, and I was just getting started.

With renewed determination, I returned the tome to the shelf and turned to Elira. “I’m ready to learn.”

She smiled, her expression filled with quiet pride. “Then let the library be your guide. Trust in its wisdom, and trust in yourself.”

I took a deep breath, feeling the weight of the pendant against my chest. As I continued to explore the library, the warmth of its magic wrapped around me, a promise of power and knowledge waiting to be discovered.

This was my beginning, and I was ready to enter the light.

The library seemed to stretch forever, each aisle an endless corridor of wisdom and mystery. The pendant’s warmth guided me as I moved between shelves, my fingers trailing along the spines of books and tomes that seemed to hum with latent magic.

I didn’t know exactly what I was looking for, but something deep within me urged me to keep searching.

And then I found it.

Tucked away on a lower shelf, its binding frayed and its title barely legible, was a logbook. This one exuded an air of quiet significance, unlike the other volumes that glimmered with enchantment. The cover was simple, its worn leather surface etched with faint runes that had almost faded into obscurity. I pulled it out carefully, the weight of the book reassuring in my hands.

As I opened it, the pages crackled softly, revealing entries written in an elegant yet hurried script. The dates at the top of each page marked a span of decades, but what caught my eye immediately was the date from forty years ago—the same time the curse had been cast and the same time my father had died.

I settled into a nearby alcove, the pendant pressing against my chest as if urging me forward. Frankly, I wasn’t sure I was ready for what I might uncover, but curiosity and a deep yearning for answers drove me on.

Journal of Elira Bellmore: Guardian of Stonewick

Entry: Samhain, Forty Years Past

With a heavy heart, I record this day's events. Stonewick, once a beacon of harmony and unity, has been fractured. The shifters, our long-time allies, have left us. Not willingly—no, they were driven away by a force we could not contain.

A curse has befallen our town, an insidious darkness that seeps into our wards and poisons the bonds we once held sacred. The exact origin of this curse remains unclear, but the timing is no coincidence. It struck on the very day my son, Alaric, moved from this world. His end was not natural. I know this in my heart.

We were unprepared for the assault that came with the curse. Shadows tore through our defenses, and in the chaos, our allies—the shifter clans—were forced to retreat. They were not banished by choice but by necessity. The curse sows discord and mistrust, and any attempt to hold them here would have led to greater destruction.

I have tried to uncover the source of this dark magic, but the answers elude me. All I know is that it is ancient, and it feeds on the fractures within our community.

I stopped reading, my fingers trembling slightly as I traced the name on the page.

Alaric .

My father.

He hadn’t died from a tragic accident or illness, as I’d been told.

His death was tied to the very curse that had isolated Stonewick. My mind raced, piecing together fragments of what I knew. The shifters had left around the same time, their absence creating a void that left the town vulnerable.

I forced myself to keep reading.

Entry: Beltane, Following Year

The shifters have not returned, and I fear they never will. Without their strength and unity, our defenses have weakened further. The curse thrives on our isolation, growing stronger with each passing season.

I have consulted the Seers and the ancient texts, but the truth remains buried. There are whispers of an entity tied to the curse, a shadow that walks among us, unseen but ever-present. Some say it is Gideon, the exiled mage, but I cannot be certain.

What I do know is this: the curse was a calculated strike meant to divide and conquer. It has succeeded in part, but Stonewick’s spirit endures. We must find a way to break the curse before it consumes us completely.

The Fae have turned their backs on us completely and divided amongst themselves. I pray for our safety.

I felt a chill run down my spine. The more I read, the clearer it became that the curse wasn’t just some random affliction, but a weapon wielded with purpose. And whoever was behind it had targeted my family specifically.

“Maeve.”

I looked up sharply to see Elira standing nearby, her expression calm but unreadable. She had a way of appearing silently, her presence both comforting and unnerving.

“I found your journal,” I said, holding up the logbook. “You wrote about the curse. About Dad.”

“My dear son.” Elira’s gaze softened, but she didn’t sit down. “That journal was meant to remain hidden until the right time.”

“Why?” I demanded. “Why hide it? Why did they let me believe my dad died in some meaningless accident?”

Elira sighed, her silver hair catching the light as she moved closer. “Because the truth is painful, and pain can cloud judgment. You needed to come to this knowledge on your own when you were ready to face it.”

I stood, clutching the book tightly. “I’m ready now. Tell me everything.”

But Elira shook her head. “There are still pieces of the puzzle you must uncover for yourself. The answers are here, within these walls and along the sidewalks of Stonewick, but the path to them will not be straightforward.”

Frustration brewed hotly. “I don’t understand. Why can’t you just tell me how he died?”

Her expression grew somber. “Because the how is not as important as the why. Your father’s absence was a catalyst, Maeve. It set events into motion that are still playing out today. Understanding the full scope of his sacrifice will take time.”

I opened my mouth to argue, but the words caught in my throat. As much as I wanted immediate answers, I could see in her eyes that she wouldn’t give them to me.

Not yet.

Maybe never.

“You’ve already begun to uncover the truth,” Elira said gently. “Trust in the process. Trust in yourself.”

I exhaled slowly, the weight of her words settling over me. “And what about the shifters? Will they ever come back?”

“That depends,” she said. “The curse drove them away, but it did not destroy the bonds entirely. If the curse can be broken, there is hope for reconciliation.”

I nodded, though my mind was still spinning. The logbook in my hands felt heavier now, a symbol of the burden my family had carried for generations. But it was also a beacon, a guide that could lead me to the truth.

Elira rested a hand on my shoulder, her touch light but grounding. “You are stronger than you know, Maeve. The answers will come in time. For now, focus on what lies ahead.”

I glanced back at the shelves, the endless rows of books and scrolls filled with centuries of wisdom. There was so much to learn, so much to uncover. And though I felt the weight of uncertainty pressing down on me, I also felt a spark of determination.

I would find the truth.

About the curse,

About my father,

About my role.

Elira stood at the library's grand window with her silver hair shimmering softly in the ambient light of the magical orbs. The vast expanse of the Academy grounds stretched out below, veiled in a gentle snowfall that sparkled faintly under the moonlight.

She turned to face me, her expression a mixture of pride and solemnity.

“The Academy is a living entity,” she began, her voice steady but tinged with something deeper. “It knows its students, its guardians, its enemies. Its doors remain closed until the right soul is ready to enter, to accept not just the power it offers but the responsibilities that come with it.”

I nodded, my hands gripping the butterfly pendant around my neck. “I feel it, Elira. Every step I’ve taken here, it’s like the Academy has been testing me, waiting to see if I measure up.”

Elira smiled softly. “You do. But it’s not just about strength or skill. The Academy’s doors are ready to open for you, Maeve—but only if you’re prepared to make a vow.”

I blinked, her words catching me off guard. “A vow?”

“A commitment,” she said, stepping closer. “This is more than learning spells or wielding magic. This is about dedicating yourself to something greater, to protecting not just Stonewick but the balance of magic itself. The vow is binding, Maeve. It’s not something to take lightly.”

Her words settled over me like a heavy cloak. The weight of what she was asking wasn’t lost on me. “What happens if I break it?” I asked quietly.

Elira’s gaze darkened, though her voice remained calm. “Breaking a vow to the Academy comes at a cost. To yourself, to those you love, and to the magic that sustains this world. It’s not just a promise—it’s a tether, a bond that cannot be undone.”

I swallowed hard, the gravity of her words sinking in. “And if I refuse?”

“The doors will remain closed,” she said simply. “Your path would end here, Maeve. The Academy doesn’t allow half-measures.”

I looked down at the pendant between my fingers, the intricate butterfly wings catching the light. The warmth it radiated felt like a quiet reminder of everything I’d faced to get here, everything I still didn’t fully understand but wanted to.

Elira placed a gentle hand on my shoulder while her touch grounded my soul.

“You’ve already shown loyalty to your friends, courage in the face of danger, and the beginnings of wisdom that will only grow. The Academy sees this in you. I see this in you. But this choice—this vow—it must come from your heart.”

The room seemed to grow still, the magic in the air holding its breath as I looked into her eyes.

“What… what is the vow?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

Elira’s gaze softened, but the intensity in her eyes remained. “The vow is to protect the light within you and the magic that binds our world, no matter the cost. To honor the knowledge you’ll gain and to wield it with purpose. To uphold the balance, even in the face of shadows. To teach all those who request the knowledge with a pure heart.”

I felt my heart pounding, the enormity of what she was asking wrapping around me like a storm. I opened my mouth to speak, but before the words could form, the sound of the grand doors creaking open echoed through the library.

Elira turned toward the sound. “The Academy awaits your answer, Maeve.”

My breath hitched as I stared at the opening.

The threshold shimmered faintly as if inviting me forward.

But was I ready to take that step?

Could I make a vow that would bind me forever?

I nodded at my grandmother as Celeste filled my mind.

And I knew what my answer had to be…