The sound of her alarm blaring across the room was causing the Aspect to groan in return as she muttered under her breath in Russian before evidently closing the alarm. “God…” she hissed and massaged her temples as her blue hues stared at the ceiling above her. Malva had a pounding headache from last night and thankfully it was because of the bottles inside her room.

It was the first time Mal actually drunk her sorrows away since 120 years ago. Ever since she met Sebastian again at the citadel in Greece, she has been more anxious than ever. She got her magic back, so that’s good news but the bad news is that now she still couldn’t control them. Getting your magic back without having the control is dangerous.

After she took her shower and got dressed, the Aspect of Magic came downstairs and went straight to the Archives located in the underground, after getting her coffee. She walked in with ease after the doors opened itself to her, even when she was struggling with her magic previously, she still had her signature and that was more than enough to trigger it. She put her coffee on the table and started scanning the books in the aisles, bringing a few to the table as she tried to find any answer to recovering what she had.

She didn’t even notice the hours passing by. By the time she noticed someone else coming in, it was already half past 5, meaning she has been there for the past 4 hours and with dozens of books, bringing not one solution or hint to her persisting problem. “There must be something I missed…” she mumbled softly and buried her face into the book. She was tired.

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✧ witching quest✧
Penelope woke up to the cheerful music the Archives played every morning. Sliding out of her overly large bed, she yawned and stretched, ready to start her day ."Good morning, Arcy," she murmured, as if greeting an old friend. Thirty minutes of invigorating yoga later, she hopped into the shower. Emerging refreshed, her clothes floated over to her, and her hair dried and styled itself effortlessly, as if she had spent hours on it. The Archives took care of her because she took care of them. “Thank you, Arcy,” she called out to the ever-shifting halls, smiling.

As she made her way to retrieve the spell book she had been translating, she paused. The door linking the Archives to the local library and the Ailward manor creaked open. Only the Aspects used that door; guards typically used portals. Curiosity piqued, she considered investigating but decided against it. The Aspects, who had created the Archives with their magic and balance, had free reign and would seek her out if needed.

Returning to her book, she resumed her translation work. Penelope was grateful for Bexley's skill in translating ancient texts and her patient teaching, which allowed Penelope to continue the work while Bexley was away fighting as a guard. The Archives greeted the Aspect of Magic with warmth, even ensuring her coffee stayed at the perfect temperature. The last Aspect to grace its never-ending, always-shifting halls was Ery. With the Aspect of Magic present, the Archives seemed to hum with life. An ottoman that once belonged to Penelope's father moved itself near her for added comfort.

After a few hours, Penelope's curiosity about the visitor grew insistent. Unable to ignore it any longer, she stood and followed the familiar voice. “Malva?” she called out, a smile spreading across her face as she approached. “It's been so long since you’ve been here; I thought you lost your key,” she joked, glancing at the books on the table.

Reading a few words, she arched an eyebrow at the Aspect of Magic. “Has someone lost their powers?” she asked, wondering if it involved a guard or someone Malva cared about. “Or are you trying to remove someone’s powers?” she added, recalling her past fascination with such matters.

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