Page 59 of Potion of Deception (Potion of Deception #1)
THE COLLECTION ROOM
T he long hallway laid with green carpets and drapes quickly changed to the corridor lined with many double doors. The doorknob turned as Lord Adrogans pressed on it. The mechanism clicked and the door swung open letting the bright light in.
“ Welcome to my little but as I'd call it, splendid, collection.”
Not conceited at all… Violette thought to herself.
She reverentially nodded, a warm smile embellished her lips as she walked past him. Her eyes trailed to the room – it wasn't a big hall or enormous room, quite the opposite – it was cozy and a nice place to spend a time in.
A warm muffled light spread throughout the room, illuminating it from bottom to top.
Along the wall was an elongated cabinet with protruding drawers and a glass top, resembling display cases in museums. Various papers that Violette assumed were spells and other magical parchments laid under the glass lid.
A large mahogany desk with additional drawers on the surface took its place in the middle of the room.
In one of the inkwells she observed multi-colored feathers: one of them definitely belonged to the rare bird called Fuga – dark green with a purple tint towards the tip.
The rest looked less fancy, but they were all different colors and shapes – one gray with flowing patterns, the second absolutely snow-white, almost dazzling, two blue, different in several shades, and another short one in soft pink.
Violette knew that many feathers, especially those collected from magical creatures, held interesting and unusual abilities.
Some of them could write without ink and reflect what was written only under the moonlight, others made painted objects come to life or were able to hide a message among the words.
One day she even heard about a magic pen that can bring to life anything you write or draw on paper, but like many old tales, it could be simply made up.
Nearby lay several books in various bindings.
It was not difficult to guess that they weren't just novels or science fiction.
Books about magic have always been distinguished by their colorfulness; they were usually also foiled with gold or silver patterns and lettering.
Generally, it was dark shades of various colors – green, teal, indigo, royal blue, mulberry, violet, magenta and others in the same range.
However, some ancient spellbooks could be bound in brown and beige leather.
At least, this rule applied to the places where Violette came from.
Here, she noticed, some people seem to mask books with other more ordinary covers because magic and everything connected to it might be forbidden in some kingdoms. It still was hard to wrap her mind around it as magic was an inevitable part of her life, of life in Sorcevellis.
It was on the streets, in every house, in every shop, the air was saturated with it. Magic was everywhere .
In a place where every third one was a wizard it was hard to impress someone with your powers if you weren’t a special kind.
Wizards with distinctiveness were extraordinary species – someone who had a gift of illusions or telekinesis, or could move to any place at the snap of a finger.
A wizard who could shapeshift into an animal was another gem and spectacular phenomenon.
Violette wasn't any of these, but she'd never sought such attention.
Though, she surely was thinking she's a talented potionist. But she gained it, she wasn't born with it.
Years of practice, lessons with her mother, days spent over the books, making research.
It wasn't easy, but it was hers. Her accomplishment.
Her passion, something she loves to do. And she missed her little potion shop – she could feel a part of her mother's soul left there.
Of course, Violette wanted to see new places, but she knew for sure she'll be always returning to her shop.
It was her home, especially since her dad got ill and she wasn't at her house that much lately.
All her time she spent between vials and magic liquids, and it was the most magical place in the whole world and nothing would change this.
Nothing would compare to this, because no matter where she would go, these places always will lack one important thing – her memories with her mother.
The room Lord Adrogans led her to was indeed packed with interesting exhibits, some of which Violette had never even heard of and didn't know what capabilities they were endowed with, but since she was supposed to look unimpressed and slightly bored, she wouldn't let him know it.
Her legs stopped as her eyes glided over a little wooden box with an intricate pattern, not much having a shape.
“Bottomless box,” the young man proclaimed, studying Violette's face from afar. “You can't imagine how hard it was to get.”
It wasn't such a rare thing in the place where she lives but she suspected something that is much used in her home land was not that common here. She imperviously passed, seeking something more enlivening.
“Do you travel a lot to find all these things?” she asked, her eyes roving over the relics.
“Some I found while on expedition, some were found in very unexpectable ways on trips and some I bought from other collectors or travelers,” his voice full of joy as he stood at the table, slightly leaning back.
“You have an incredibly engaging life." Her eyes got back to his face.
She hoped he didn't catch a note of jealousy in her tone.
She wanted to travel and wished her companion wouldn't be a vampire and everything was just different .
However, she couldn't deny that she doesn't feel much annoyance and aversion to Dante as it was.
She started developing a slightly warm feeling towards him, not big enough to call him a friend, no, but she felt pretty comfortable in his presence and could have a decent conversation with him.
Until he starts to be himself again and keeping any kind of information private, of course.
“Your collection is lovely ,” she commented, not taking her gaze off the oddities.
Another thing that brought her attention was a cup with the endless drink, even now it had something – liquid with an enchanting golden tint. How long was it there and how safe was it to drink? She didn't want to know for sure.
“Oh I heard about this,” the enthusiasm woke up in her tone. Her eyes shot to the two silver ribbons on the wall. “Are those Steel ribbons?”
The man proudly nodded.
Of course, it wasn't ribbons made of steel, but people tended to call them this way for its incredible durability – impossible to tear or cut. A long time ago they were pretty common in basic usage but there was a dangerous side to it so they mostly disappeared.
She turned her head to a little red pad with a glowy silver needle under a glass cloche.
“A needle which can sew anything you can only imagine, a very useful thing,” the Lord commented.
It was interesting, Violette didn't hear about such a thing and she'd really love to have something like this back at home. She almost let out a gasp of excitement but remembered she shouldn't be much impressed, especially because of some needle.
There were also a few impressive things like a sword that could change its size to a thin stick, a necklace that could give the most beautiful voice to whomever wears it, a few spells written on parchments and little live figures of unicorns who were happily chasing each other on a plate .
“Vanishing hood?” she asked, stroking a silky fabric of beautiful navy blue cloak on an old-fashioned rack.
“Yes.” The young man’s smile grew bigger, however it almost faded as Violette said the next words.
“Nice but it's not rare in Chantoret.”
“Maybe, you can tell me what you'd like to see and who knows, maybe, it's here, in this room.”
Great. The words she exactly wanted to hear.
“Tempting offer but I doubt you have something like this,” she vaguely waved.
Her fingers crossed, hoping these words would deeply affect him and then she turned to him with her face.
“Maybe, you'll be quite impressed,” he said confidently. His posture shifted, he was on an urge to prove her wrong.
“I doubt it,” she retorted with a friendly smile but continued as she met his eyes filled with unbreakable assurance. “I heard about one extremely rare thing and had never seen it before. I might start believing it's just a legend.”
He was all ears. “Yes? And what is it?”
“A magic map that was enchanted by an old witch. I was told there was a little legend,” her fingers brushed upon the table surface as she was coming closer to him, “not really famous but quite intriguing. One witch had a hideaway for magical treasures. She cast a spell on that place and only those who have a map she enchanted can find it.” She stopped near Lord Adrogans, staring at him, her big eyes alluring, twinkling under the weak light.
“Uh…” he drawled with a satisfied smirk. “Today is a great day for me as I can impress such a beautiful lady.” His words were a song for her ears.
He waved his hand to the shelf at the wall.
She gave him a look full of mistrust, pretending like it's nearly impossible.
“Take a look, please.” His head swung in the direction of the glass cover. Under it the magic parchment inked with rivers, towns and forests – the map to the Grotto of Spells and Relics.
“No, you are trying to trick me. It can't be real,” she blew as she made her way to the shelf.
“It is indeed.” How proud he looked right now, she could recognize this expression from her own reflection in the mirror, every time she succeeded in brewing a new challenging potion.
“I can't believe it…” Her eyes scrutinized the map before they got back to Lord Adrogans.
“I'll show you closer,” with that said, he turned to the glass, taking out a small key.