By Andrew Agney
Ciel runs out of her apartment, slipping on her witch’s cloak over her pink dress as she bursts through the front door of the complex. Squinting her yellow eyes as the sun hurts them and burns her bright red scales, the small dragon child pulling up the hood of her cloak to protect herself.
“I’ll be right back guys! There’s a magic emergency!” Ciel calls into the apartment complex, getting a chorus of farewells from a large group of other dragon children, before she closes the door and sprints off down the sidewalk. Running full speed down the road, the small red dragon dodging the denizens of the city, dodging under a sheet of glass carried by two elves, leaping over a sleeping dwarf, and making a quick stop to buy an emerald necklace from a gnome jeweler, before she finally reaches her destination: The Library.
Walking in, Ciel approaches the elven librarian. “I got your emergency message Ms. Firblossom! What’s the problem?” she asks, struggling to look over the front desk.
“Oh! Ciel, thank you for coming. The lights are out in the romance section,” the librarian explains simply, filing her nails.
Ciel frowns, her demeanor deflating. “That’s it? That’s your magic emergency?” she asks with disappointment and a slight whine in her voice.
“Of course it’s an emergency! How are people going to buy all the juicy new stories and books if they can’t see? Also, why are you wearing that silly cloak over your dress? It clashes horribly,” the librarian complains as she over exaggerates the distress in her voice.
“It’s my witch cloak…also it helps with the sun,” Ciel groans and makes her way over to the romance section, her tail dragging along the ground behind her and the elven librarian following. Once they reach their destination, in the darkened romance section, Ciel reaches into the pocket of her cloak and pulls out a folded slip of paper, kneeling down to place it on the ground and unfold it.
“What are you doing you silly little dragon? Just cast a light spell,” Firblossom demands, giving a soft, annoyed huff.
Ciel rolls her eyes and taps her clawed finger against the paper, a bright source of light coming from the paper and illuminating the room. “I can’t produce magic naturally…I do it by writing the magic sigils on paper as a proxy,” the red dragon-like creature explains
The librarian bursts out laughing at this explanation “Honey, you want to be a witch…yet you can’t even make your own magic? You’ll never make it in witch school!”
Ciel puffs her cheeks out and pouts in anger. “I’ll have you know,” but stops herself from finishing that thought as a look of realization comes across her face “Wait…witch school…I’m late for class!” she yells out before rushing out of the library.
TO BE CONTINUED