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Lucinda of the Hidden World - Chapter TwoI roamed casually around the market place, totally at ease and it a rather good mood; having already stored my new book and cane away, I was pretty sure both of them would fetch a rather handsome price, not that I have any intention of selling them. I grin slyly and quickly snatch an apple from the fruit stall, without anyone seeming to notice, I take a big bite and keep walking.
My heart jumps in my throat and I spin towards to voice; relief washing over me when I see a young tattooed man being grabbed by the merchant. I place my hand gently over my heart and wait for it to slow.
“You still owe me ten pence”
“This flour is degraded and is damp; mold has already started to grow. It’s not worth any more than what I’ve paid you”
“I don’t care how crappy you think it is! That’s high quality stuff, now either pay for it or move on!” I chuckle, going to walk passed them.
“Excuse me, miss” The ma
Lucinda of the Hidden World - Chapter OneRoman Marvarak, a powerful and formally dark warlock, sat silently at a workbench; copying out assorted pages and book, a deliberately tedious the Ancient One had set for him as a miniscule part of his sentence.
With a frown he looked up from his work. The various spells and wards he had secretly placed on the Vampire had just been completely obliterated.
He waves his hand and found himself in a grungy alleyway and in front of him was the unconscious Vampire; long hair splayed on the ground, a nasty gash on his forehead and possible a few broken ribs.
He bends down on his knees and grabs the Vampire by the arm and teleports him to the infirmary back at the Tutores Latet base.
He spins of his heels, his senses flaring up; the strange smell of roses permeating the air, it was masked by the same magic that knocked out the Ancient One, that much he could tell…
“Show yourself!” he yells to the sky, amplifying his voice with magic.
He looks around cautiously, searching for
Lucinda of the Hidden World - IntroductionI sat quietly on one of the old dirty crates at the corner of two intersecting alleyways. In my hands I held a large book; the cover was blue with a Kintsuji inspired pattern, The Adventures of Mr Obadiah Oldbuck was printed in the dead centre and inside a gilded frame.
I run my hand down the spine with a smile before opening to the first page. Unlike most books I’d encountered this one didn’t have many words, instead each page was filled with illustrations with captions.
The faint sound of running footsteps reaches my ears. I peer cautiously around the corner to see a man quickly approaching; I close the book with a snap and place it between two of the crates before sneaking along the alley wall and hiding in the very nook as he came to a stop a few feet away.
At first glance he appeared to be a normal man; he had abnormally long brown hair and his eyes were a stunning shade of blue, dark as night. He was dressed in fine clothing which was topped with a top hat and he spor
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