Welcome to Valerian Night, where the story comes to you in snippets and snatches, snapshots and slivers of 300 words every week. Your input is valued and needed, for what you say may drive the story into a totally different direction. Follow the meandering coils of story that take Alyxa Fairchild onto a direct collision course with Nightmares, Dreams, Old Deities and New Heroes as her world collides with that of Réveille, the land of Waking Dreams and Dead Gods. Trail after Morpheus as he discovers the foibles and confusions of the human world and finds himself strangely enamoured thereof all the while trying to keep his Dreamer safe and ensure the continued peace of the Real World. Let the young Jazzy open your eyes and show you that the world you see is not necessarily the world you know...

Tuesday, April 2, 2013

3.8. Dust and Cobwebs


“Can I help you? Or are you happy to browse?” the elderly woman behind the counter queried politely when Alyxa and Bast came in.

“Um...just looking, thanks,” Alyxa replied. The old woman nodded and smiled. The shop was incredibly narrow, as though it had been squished between two buildings as an afterthought by some enterprising young architect bent on efficiency.

Floor to ceiling, the place was packed full of dusty books, jars full of herbs and spices, and all manner of ingredients for ritual, spell, charm or brew. Alyxa had never seen so much witchery in one place, not even in Maye’s spellroom. Morpheus was running his fingers along the spines of a few books.

“Morph-” Alyxa started, halting herself when she realised ‘Morpheus’ wasn’t the most common name in the world, “what are you doing?”

“Searching,” he replied stoically.

“For what?” Alyxa demanded impatiently, but he had wandered down the aisle of shelves already.

“Where’s that accent from, dear?” the old lady asked. Usually such a question, prying into her personal affairs, would have rankled Alyxa, but it was posed so politely that she felt quite happy to reply.

“Oh, I’m English but I lived in France for a few years when I was little.”

“How wonderful,” the old lady declared, “I visited Paris as a girl. A long time ago.”

“Oh, neat,” Alyxa replied, trying to be polite.

“My family is from India, originally, most of us lived in England, but some came down here. What brings you to Australia?”

-This old bat likes to talk,- Bast commented, jumping onto the countertop.

“Only about interesting things, Cat Queen,” the old lady replied without missing a beat.

Bast’s fur fluffed itself into a fury and she hissed.

“You...you can see her?” Alyxa asked softly.

“Of course, dear, can’t you?”

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