Sealing Charm

"Just two drops of fresh blood, Young Lady. Truly an inexpensive purchase, don't you think?" The shopkeeper's voice carried a hint of amusement, his smile widening as if relishing my curiosity.

His words struck me like a bolt of lightning. "Blood?" I repeated, unable to conceal the disbelief in my voice. My heart raced, adrenaline coursing through my veins at the unexpected request.

"What about the Phoenix Feather Quill?" I hurriedly inquired, attempting to divert my attention from the unsettling proposal.

"For you, Young Lady, for a special price, it shall be just about a drop of blood," he replied, his smile taking on a mischievous edge, revealing crooked, darkened teeth that added an eerie quality to his appearance.

The shopkeeper seemed to notice my shock at the trade he was proposing, so he gestured toward a sign at the back of the door with a flick of his hand. The sign read "Hidden Hollow Blood Exchange" in elegant, engraved gold cursive letters. However, the signage appeared neglected, covered with a layer of dust that dulled its once sparkling appearance.

I couldn't help but wonder why such a sign was placed inside the shop instead of prominently displayed at the front entrance. The words "Blood Exchange" stood out to me, raising questions about whether this was a normal practice in this world.

With my lips quivering slightly, I gathered my courage to speak. "Do you accept gold? Money? I mean, Galleons?" I showed him the currency I had. "How about diamonds?"

The shopkeeper regarded me with a puzzled expression before pointing once more at the sign. I did not remember Lily mentioning something about blood being the payment for the plant she had purchased from this very shop.

"What is that little bag?" I asked, pointing to a brown sack on the counter. The shopkeeper obliged and unclamped the rope, revealing a dazzling brightness that made me squint. He quickly closed the bag and smiled at my astonished expression.

"What's in there?" I asked, still in disbelief.

"The stars," he replied casually. "For the witches seeking the stars of their beloveds. It's always sold out before you know it." His words left me gaping. Real stars?

I shifted my gaze to a small bottle on a rack behind him. "How about that?" I inquired, curious about its contents.

He glanced over his shoulder. "That's for the books. Witches value their books greatly because they hold the key to their powers. Just a drop of this oil ensures that their books are protected from any magic-induced damage. It's exclusively meant for books, with no effect on anything else."

The shopkeeper continued to show me a variety of unique items, but my attention was captured by a simple hairpin among them.

According to the elders of the magical community, a witch's hair was more than just a physical aspect. It was a reflection of their magical essence. No matter what attempts were made—be it mundane methods like hair dyes or magical spells—witches' hair retained its natural color throughout their lifetime. This unwavering trait was akin to a badge of honor, showcasing their connection to magic and the supernatural.

Conversely, Warlocks, the male counterparts to witches, often displayed their magical prowess through intricate tattoos. These tattoos were imbued with magical significance, often representing spells, protections, or personal achievements. Warlocks could conceal or reveal these tattoos at will, offering them a degree of control over how much of their magical identity they revealed to the world.

The hairpin that caught my attention in the shop was no ordinary accessory. Crafted by a renowned witch of great power, its enchantments were sophisticated and unique. When used, it had the remarkable ability to alter the color of a witch's hair temporarily. This transformative magic allowed witches to adopt different appearances, effectively hiding their true nature and evading detection by those who might recognize them as practitioners of magic. It was a prized possession among those who valued discretion and secrecy in their magical endeavors.

The old man's voice carried a note of caution as he spoke further. "One's true identity cannot be concealed from a witch wielding black magic. They possess the ability to see through illusions and masks, peering into the depths of a person's essence. Only a Sealing Charm, crafted with intricate and ancient magic, could veil your true self from such powerful scrutiny."

I leaned in, intrigued by the mention of this enigmatic charm. "What exactly is a Sealing Charm?" I asked, my curiosity growing.

"The Sealing Charm," the old man continued, his voice dropping to a whisper, "is a formidable curse that carries immense power. It can lock away aspects of one's being, such as souls, magical abilities, or even their very presence. However, such a potent enchantment can only be invoked by a Geass, a rare and gifted Elven individual known for their mastery over ancient and powerful magic."

As he spoke, the old man moved about the shop, tidying up the various magical items on display. I followed him closely, my curiosity piqued by his words.

"It's been centuries since a Geass of such caliber has been seen," the old man continued, his tone tinged with a hint of awe and reverence. "Their abilities were unmatched, capable of wielding magic that could shape the very fabric of reality. But with their disappearance, the knowledge of such enchantments has become lost to time, known only through ancient texts and legends."

I listened intently, absorbing every word as he spoke of these mysterious and powerful beings. The idea of a Sealing Charm intrigued me, yet at the same time, it carried an aura of danger and forbidden magic.

The old man's words sent a chill down my spine as I processed the implications of the Sealing Charm. Could it be that my inability to be recognized by others, even those with heightened senses like Werebeasts, was due to such a curse? The idea lingered in my mind like a haunting shadow, filling me with a mix of fear and determination.