How did it open, was the question? Well, it looked to be pushed in slightly already, so he might as well push it a bit more.
Placing his hands on the bottom of one of the shelves, he pushed. He kept going as the door moved further backwards, until it wouldn’t budge past what appeared to be the back of the surrounding shelves. After pushing it in various directions, he found that the only way it wanted to go, in that position, was left.
Despite the glow that had been present before, as soon as he started to slide the door, the light disappeared, and what greeted him as he fully slid it open was, of course, pure darkness—yippee...
“What is the point of the glow if it’s going to turn off the second I need it?” Ollie complained.
“Just go inside!” Red snapped.
“I am!”
Taking a deep breath, Ollie stepped into the unknown, blinking rapidly as light suddenly lit up the room the second he did. He gasped as his vision cleared, and he stepped further inside.
Standing in the center of the room, he spun around in wonder, giggling gleefully as he clapped. “Books!”
But not just any books—old books. Ollie had walked into a secret library, which was bigger than the one on the other side of the door. Each bookcase was eight shelves high and filled with books that had to be more than a hundred years old. The bookcases had intricately carved wooden edges depicting things like fire, trees, and more. And their tops had arched latticework with an oddly empty, flat space in the center.
The bookshelves lined the rectangular room, which had wooden floors and a domed painted ceiling featuring the night sky with the constellations shining bright. He wasn’t sure where the light in the room was coming from, yet he couldn’t help but think that some of it had to be coming from the painted stars above.
To the right of the door, in the center, was a medium-sized table with spiraled legs, surrounded by four matching wooden chairs. To the far left sat a plush, tufted-back dark-blue velvet chair and footstool, both embroidered with silver stars in a repeating pattern, with a pale yellow star-shaped rug underneath.
Feeling giddy as can be, Ollie approached the shelf that was to the left as you entered, the bookshelf door itself having disappeared behind the very thick wall. He gasped again as he neared the bookcase with edges carved with what might have been fireflies, when, in English, the words ‘History of Witchery’ lit up in cursive in the blank space of the arch atop.
Briefly glancing around once more, he side-stepped to the next bookcase, and as another word lit up, he kept going untilhe’d made it all the way around the room. In all, there were thirty-four marked sections. Each of the major arcana taking up a separate bookcase, with the minor sharing one. As for the remaining ones, there were various other supernatural and witch-related topics represented, from ghosts to witch hunters and more.
As he took in all he’d just seen, he couldn’t stop himself from spinning around, with his hands on his hips, and snapping at Red. “And you couldn’t tell me this was here again, why?!”
Red sighed and shrugged, as what else could he do? He wasn’t exactly in full control of what he could and couldn’t tell Ollie. “I would have, and I wanted to, but couldn’t, as I explained yesterday.”
“How does me not knowing help me? Also, what exactly is the point of a familiar? Like, you are supposed to help me, right? In what way? Because so far…” The anger on his witch’s face bled away as he trailed off and paled, audibly swallowing before he rasped, “I mean…you did save me.”
Ollie’s bottom lip wobbled as tears filled his eyes, before he suddenly crouched down and reached for him.
Red ran into those seeking arms, letting himself be picked up and purring as Ollie rubbed his face into his fur. “It’s okay, I’m fine, Ollie. Promise.”
“I’m sorry,” Ollie whimpered. “I’m sorry. I sh-shouldn’t have yelled at you. I know you would have told me if you could. I’m just…f-frustrated.”
Honestly, Red was frustrated too. He wished he could tell Ollie everything he needed to help him understand and move forward. Not to mention, what would prepare him for any possible attack in the future, by other witches and witch hunters alike. But he couldn’t. Anytime he tried, pain would twist through him until finally his vocal cords would just stop working.
Worse still, Red knew if he really pushed, and defied it as far as he could, he’d risk losing the ability to speak forever. It forced him to weigh the risks and decide when it was worth it. But there was more going on than he initially thought. The things the binding seemed to make him ignore weren’t…normal.
But then, that pretty much described the things it was forcing him to look past. Things that showed how Ollie’s magic was different… It worried him that Rowden had worked that into the binding, because he couldn’t think of a single good reason for it that didn’t make him panic, and want to hide Ollie away from the world.
“I get it, Ollie. This hasn’t been easy for you. And it’s hard not knowing things.”
The witch sniffled before letting out a hesitant laugh. “I don’t know a lot. And like I said, I really don’t know what a familiar is supposed to do…”
“I can answer that.”
Ollie jumped as Annabel’s voice came out of nowhere, him flinching slightly when she appeared right beside him straight after her words.
“You couldn’t show yourself firstbeforetalking?” he asked.
One of her brows rose. “Would it make you jump any less?”
Ollie opened his mouth to say yes, but hesitated on realizing that it likely wouldn’t, as her white-gray semi-see-through appearance still startled him sometimes. Nose wrinkling, he sheepishly said, “Possibly?”
Annabel chuckled. “Anyway, to answer your question, let me first tell you a bit about familiars as a whole?—"
