7 May 2025, 02:29
The Witch & The Wand
Alina didn't really know what to expect. A letter shows up telling her that she's a witch. And... the stereotype is that witches fly brooms and brew portions and wave wands. And here she is... standing outside a wand shop.
"Go ahead." Her mother urges. Alina can sense the pitch of fear in her mother's voice. Of course this is all new for her too.
Alina takes a deep breath, and pushes through the door. This is it right, the thing that's supposed to allow me to do magic... of course that feels logical. There is a distinct layer of dust coating the room, and furthermore every surface of the small shop seems to be piled high with boxes and boxes of wands.
An old man steps around the main counter smiling warmly at her. Well... she thinks it's supposed to be a warm smile anyways.
"Here to pick a wand?" He asks, his voice smooth and gentle.
"Yes." Alina replies.
"Of course, why else would you be here?" He mumbles the end to himself before turning towards the stacks of boxes.
"What's your name dear?" He asks to fill the silence.
"Alina, Alina Carnell."
"Short quippy, one easy to remember." He casts a quick grin at her mother.
"Now are you right handed or left handed?" He asks.
"Left." She says, her voice soft.
He plucks one out of the pile, snatching it fast enough that the other boxes don't tumble out. Or maybe they're magically held in place. Alina couldn't be sure.
WC: 255
"Go ahead." Her mother urges. Alina can sense the pitch of fear in her mother's voice. Of course this is all new for her too.
Alina takes a deep breath, and pushes through the door. This is it right, the thing that's supposed to allow me to do magic... of course that feels logical. There is a distinct layer of dust coating the room, and furthermore every surface of the small shop seems to be piled high with boxes and boxes of wands.
An old man steps around the main counter smiling warmly at her. Well... she thinks it's supposed to be a warm smile anyways.
"Here to pick a wand?" He asks, his voice smooth and gentle.
"Yes." Alina replies.
"Of course, why else would you be here?" He mumbles the end to himself before turning towards the stacks of boxes.
"What's your name dear?" He asks to fill the silence.
"Alina, Alina Carnell."
"Short quippy, one easy to remember." He casts a quick grin at her mother.
"Now are you right handed or left handed?" He asks.
"Left." She says, her voice soft.
He plucks one out of the pile, snatching it fast enough that the other boxes don't tumble out. Or maybe they're magically held in place. Alina couldn't be sure.
WC: 255
Last edited by Alina Carnell on 7 May 2025, 02:36, edited 1 time in total.
7 May 2025, 02:34
The Witch & The Wand
"Here try this one: Ebony wood, dragon heartstring core – 12¾ inches." He says, handing her a beautiful dark wand. Delicate patterns engraved into the wood grain. He holds it to her by the tip allowing her to grip the handle. Though... she's not quite sure what to do with it. "Go on give it a wave." He encourages. She waves it hesitantly, and the wand makes a sharp whipping sound and knocks over a stack of books. Her mother lets out a sound somewhere between a squeak and a shout. Alina scrambles to put it back on the counter. “Mm, no—this one fights you. Too proud for a half-hearted bond.” Wouldn't she want to be proud? Is this an opportunity that’s giving up on her?
“Here, this one: Willow wood, unicorn hair core – 14 inches.” He says, handing her the wand in the exact same motion. He must have done this a million times---at least. He just hands the pieces of artwork over with practice. The wand is a pale wood. Vine-like-swirls twist around the wand, subtly forming a shape similar to a horn. Suppose wands already take that shape. He gestures again. “Give it a wave.” This time, the wand heats up before seemingly drooping in her hand. “Ah, loyal but picky. This wand wants a healer, not a warrior.” That doesn’t feel promising either. The wand of a proud warrior and a healer have passed her on. What does that say about her character?
WC: 250
“Here, this one: Willow wood, unicorn hair core – 14 inches.” He says, handing her the wand in the exact same motion. He must have done this a million times---at least. He just hands the pieces of artwork over with practice. The wand is a pale wood. Vine-like-swirls twist around the wand, subtly forming a shape similar to a horn. Suppose wands already take that shape. He gestures again. “Give it a wave.” This time, the wand heats up before seemingly drooping in her hand. “Ah, loyal but picky. This wand wants a healer, not a warrior.” That doesn’t feel promising either. The wand of a proud warrior and a healer have passed her on. What does that say about her character?
WC: 250
7 May 2025, 02:52
The Witch & The Wand
“Not the one. After all, Ms. Carnell, you do know that the wand chooses the witch.” He says. She doesn’t actually know that, of course not. She’s a muggleborn, all of this is new.
“Here: Cherry wood, phoenix feather core – 11".” He hands her a deep auburn wand. “This one almost matches your hair.” He says. It feels almost right—like a song half-remembered—but there's a hesitation, a faint tremble, as if the wand is waiting for something… hesitant. “Curious... it likes you, but not enough to follow you. It’s waiting for something you haven’t become yet.” I felt so close though. What are we waiting for? Alina reluctantly lets the piece roll from her ringers back onto the counter.
“Don’t fret Ms. Carnell, I’m sure we have the right wand for you. I suppose this just means your potential is…underestimated.” I don’t know how to take that.
The shopkeeper turns, running a finger thoughtfully along the edge of a high shelf, then stops at a thin, unassuming box tucked behind others. She notices that he doesn't say anything when he hands her the wand. It's a beautiful marbled wood pattern.
Her fingers close around the handle, a soft chime hums through the air—as if the wand has exhaled after holding its breath for years. Warmth spreads instantly through her palm boiling up her arm and into the rest of her body. Shelves shiver. A few motes of light rise lazily from the tip, swirling into patterns that hang in the air like memory. The wand fits like a long-lost glove.
"Ahh... yes. This one’s particular. Doesn’t often stir. Mayhaw wood, 10 ¼ inches... Snallygaster heartstring. Flexible. Balanced. Curious thing—Likes cleverness. Courage. Intelligence. Loyalty. And a touch of the unexpected."
WC: 291
“Here: Cherry wood, phoenix feather core – 11".” He hands her a deep auburn wand. “This one almost matches your hair.” He says. It feels almost right—like a song half-remembered—but there's a hesitation, a faint tremble, as if the wand is waiting for something… hesitant. “Curious... it likes you, but not enough to follow you. It’s waiting for something you haven’t become yet.” I felt so close though. What are we waiting for? Alina reluctantly lets the piece roll from her ringers back onto the counter.
“Don’t fret Ms. Carnell, I’m sure we have the right wand for you. I suppose this just means your potential is…underestimated.” I don’t know how to take that.
The shopkeeper turns, running a finger thoughtfully along the edge of a high shelf, then stops at a thin, unassuming box tucked behind others. She notices that he doesn't say anything when he hands her the wand. It's a beautiful marbled wood pattern.
Her fingers close around the handle, a soft chime hums through the air—as if the wand has exhaled after holding its breath for years. Warmth spreads instantly through her palm boiling up her arm and into the rest of her body. Shelves shiver. A few motes of light rise lazily from the tip, swirling into patterns that hang in the air like memory. The wand fits like a long-lost glove.
"Ahh... yes. This one’s particular. Doesn’t often stir. Mayhaw wood, 10 ¼ inches... Snallygaster heartstring. Flexible. Balanced. Curious thing—Likes cleverness. Courage. Intelligence. Loyalty. And a touch of the unexpected."
WC: 291